Dominated by a Billionaire

Suddenly his voice was commanding and steely again. "Get off that desk," he said. "Get on your knees."

I complied as best I could. My limbs were still shaking but I knelt before him. Up close, his cock looked even bigger. It was shiny with my juices, still rock-hard.

"Suck," he said. "Be a good little slut and make me come."

And, even though I was still in the aftershocks of that incredible orgasm, I opened my mouth and took him in. I'd never been with a man this large, so there was a bit of a learning curve, but I so wanted to make him feel good—I so wanted to give him the kind of pleasure that he had given me—that I went to work, taking the length of him in my mouth and stroking his shaft with my hand until his breathing began to quicken.

"That's good," he said. "That's a good girl."

His cock bulged in my mouth and I kept sucking, desperate for his come. I'd never been this submissive, this dirty, before, but something about Oliver made me crave his come. I wanted to swallow it all, like a porn star. Oliver began to let out a low, quiet moan, and I knew he was close. His cock began to pulse in my mouth, and then, thick spurts of come started to unload into my mouth. Greedily, I swallowed, without even tasting. With my hand, I stroked his shaft, dragging the orgasm out as long as I could, swallowing every drop. He let out a long sigh, then reached down and cupped my cheek.

"That's a good little slut," he said and pulled me up to him, kissing me soft and deep and slow.

*

I was still shaking when I stepped out into the spring sunshine on 5th street. Oliver had zipped up and left almost immediately, leaving me with only a sly smile. I'd dressed and stepped out meekly into the mahogany-lined corridor. Nobody seemed to notice me; the only person I made eye contact with was Gretchen, whose cheeks flushed as I waited for the elevator.

Everything looked new. Yeah, right across the street was the same public library there was before, and the L.A. sunshine was as perfect as it was before. But this was a world in which something like what had just happened could happen.

I'd been so distracted by the earth-shattering orgasm that I'd had that I almost forgot about the check. With a start, I reached into my back pocket. It was still there!

I pulled out the check and stared at it in disbelief. $10,000.

What the fuck just happened to me?

The check seemed legitimate. It had a watermark and everything. My head was swimming, so I sat down at a bench at a bus stop. I made the simple step of Googling Oliver Clarke.

Consultant. Investor. Net worth: $6 billion.

Oh my God. I just got fucked silly by a billionaire.

I pulled the check out of my pocket. $10,000 was still a godsend, but it didn't seem like that much anymore. What was this, a tiny fraction of a percent of his net worth? It was nothing. No wonder he could tell a Senator to go to hell. No wonder he knew he could have me if he wanted me. And I knew that if he asked, he could have me again.

But he wouldn't ask, would he? I sighed. Well, it was a nice vacation, but now I had to head back to real life.

I examined the check again. I needed a moment to process what had just happened.

Then, I noticed something: on the "Memo" section of the check was written a phone number.

I leaned back against the bench, smiled. Laughed, clutching the check. Giddy, until tears streamed down my face.