The Billion Dollar Sitter (7 page)

But beyond that? Boring. There was music, but it was white noise - classical music, live band of course. Tyson was always there to explain the weird eccentricities of the rich to me. "It's culture, Marci. Pure culture. If I say I enjoy Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin, I'm pedestrian. But if I have them play Beethoven's Seventy Fourth symphony or whatever, I appear to be a classy individual."

Talking. Chit-chat, how are your kids, how's business, how are you avoiding paying your yacht cleaning people, nothing remotely interesting. Just a lot of I'm doing better than you, so I'm a better person.

Chatter chatter, I would have fallen asleep if Tyson wasn't there to wrap his hand around my arm and shake me.

"It gets better, Marci. Still hollow, shallow, but the meat of the nonsense is yet to come. I assure you, you will love it."

He took me by the hand, and guided me up the stairs. I saw things that started to catch my eye during my ascent. It wasn't just arms wrapping around one another, there were now many people making out. All over, people were ravishing one another. Big, wet, open mouth kisses. Heavy petting, hands going down bodies, over dresses, pulling down their tops. I started to see breasts appear, and be groped.

The clock that hung over the door
, the hands told me midnight drew near.
I had dozed my way through the night, Tyson's conversations all a blur. Time occasionally flies when you're bored out of your mind.

Alejandro, too, had began to indulge in the sexual madness. He pulled the brunette closer, and shoved his tongue far down her throat. It caught my eye, brief flashes of fantasy booming through my head, putting me in her place. There was a definite sinful, carnal nature about the kisses. But the blonde? She was doing far more than kissing.

She had dropped to her knees and unzipped his dress pants, her skilled hand reaching in. My eyes went wide at the sight. She pulled out his cock, in all of its quickly growing might, running her tongue across the underside of his shaft, the service done with a smile.

I glanced at the blowjob below, then up at Tyson. Then the blowjob. Then Tyson. "Um - uh, Tyson, uh- um - " I stammered over the words, instead choosing to gesture wildly at the act.

"Perfectly aware, my young beauty. As I said, this is all posturing. A show to put on. A game where you assert your power, your dominance, over your lover as symbolism. It is primitive and shallow as gorillas beating their chests at one another and flinging," he looked for a proper word that fit the classiness of the situation, " - things, at one another in the jungle. In all honesty, I find it quite idiotic."

We reached the top of the stairs. Front and center, eyes followed our movements. They waited for Tyson to speak, or possibly act. I glanced at him. "Then why are you going along with this? And, and - " I gulped down. Wait, it dawned on me. They were doing this in a very public place - eyes all over them. Women became naked down there, my first time seeing other women's privates. I blushed.

I blushed more when I realized what may happen to me. If they were putting on public shows in front of everyone, what did Tyson have in mind?

"Because, my dear Marci, I am a player in this game, as much as I loathe it, so I must participate." In almost a flash, he took me by my hair. Firm, steady pressure as he pulled out the bun, letting the hair fall free, his strong, tender fingers running over my scalp. His other hand roamed down my body, caressing me and awakening my flesh.

I gasped, taken aback. I, too, was going to be an object used to demonstrate dominance. He was - no, not in public. He laid a kiss on my mouth, my mind flaring with the sparks of his tongue down my throat. As rough as it sounded, I found myself enjoying it.

As his hand curved around my ass, my thigh, it turned around and circled right back up to the top of my gown, where it began to pull. The mere fabric was nothing versus his strength, and my breast bounced out for the entire room to see.

The air of the room tickled me, his hand covered me, the warmth so good and so desired by me. As my breast was massaged tenderly, I looked up at him with concern. He seemed unconcerned with my concern, simply smiling as he played with my breast, his other hand pulling down the dress, revealing my other tit.

His touch was electric, as it always was. I panicked from the thought of having my body exposed to these billionaires.
It was
hardly how I expected to enjoy Tyson's touch tonight. What's more, I didn't expect this to be the end of it. My dress, my breasts to help it defy gravity, was now being urged down my body by him.

"I cannot stand idly by and let them believe I have gone soft." He spoke low enough for only me to hear, His hot breath tickling the flesh of my ear. "So I play. While I feel the game is childish, the pleasure to be gained from it is anything but."

More and more, the dress slithered down my body, past my abdomen, around my hips. I reached for it, to stop it falling off me, but Tyson was there, taking both of my hands in his, his fingers running up my forearm, holding me back, presenting my naked body for leering eyes.

"They're - they're looking at me." I said, overwhelmed with anxiety. "This isn't, like, proper, Tyson."

"Nothing about this room is proper. Deviants, sure to shuck the rules of society because they can hardly do anything to them. So they relish their nigh-invulnerability, enjoying the flesh and the carnal pleasures in the most obscene way possible. In public, as everyone looks on." My back was tickled by the buttons of his tux, as he explored his prize. "Besides, Marci, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your beauty has captivated the room."

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I met the gaze of each of the onlookers, one by one. All of them were focused on my breasts, nipples erect from Tyson's touch and perhaps the thrill of being exposed. I'd never considered myself much of an exhibitionist. Even in gym class, I was either in really early or really late to changing in and out my uniform.

But there was a thrill here. Excitement. I could understand why they did this - so honest, so craven, and so naked. They enjoyed something that was typically only for behind closed doors. Passionate kisses, sucking of breasts, fingers in pussies, tongues in pussies, cocks in mouths, and outright fucking for the entire room to view. Besides me, they gazed at one another, enjoying the zoo of flesh surrounding them.

It was really quite amazing. Every sight echoed through my mind with the question - was Tyson about to do that to me? As everyone looked on?

Isn't this what I wanted? To have been more than his dirty little secret? Someone he wanted to use to carry his child? Be his mistress - or, the childish fantasy calling out to me - his wife?

Deep thoughts of that sort were beyond me, as he pushed the dress down until it crumpled uselessly at my feet. I was only in my panties, and they weren't even particularly modest ones. Silken and black, low cut at the top, high cut at the legs, they were an inch or two away from being an outright thong. My near nudity was quick to fill me with an embarrassed blush.

But then I noticed the way Tyson held me, presenting me to the crowd, behind me, his arms cradling me. Voicelessly but loudly, he proclaimed me his. Every curve of my body was caressed, from my shoulders to my hips, until not even those silk panties were safe from his ravishing touch.

"They can see you tremble. Panic, your youth and inexperience ringing out," he said, doing little to put me at ease. "But I care not. We're going to demonstrate that our lust, our - " Love? I expected him to keep going, but something dwelt in his mind there too. "You are mine, Marci, and that's all we need to show them. You will love it."

His thick hands started to push down my panties, keeping my body straight and narrow because he demanded it. My eyes closed in shame, as they saw what I didn't want them to see. But I couldn't hide forever, and closing my eyes didn't really hide me anyway. I took a big gulp of air and opened them. The onlookers were all staring, all enjoying my body for everything that it was.

I spent hours in the spa today. Even with every beauty treatment done to me, I still couldn't get past the fact that I was a commoner, not one of them, but instead someone dressed up and pretending to be so. But they were captivated. Perhaps it was Tyson's presence rubbing off on me, or -

"They're taken by your beauty, Marci. Envy. All of them. The women wish they were still as young and pretty as you. All the men wish they could have you. We are far from done inspiring such emotions."

Lost to the obscenity of the scene, I responded the only way I knew how. "Uh huh."

Tyson stood in front of me, his eyes staring down onto mine, his body offering me temporary cover from the the crowd. He kissed me again, his tongue plunging in, urging mine to follow. Not for long as he departed, kissing down my form to my neck, my chest, my breasts which he took in an incredible suck that forced my head to fall back, a moan escaping my lips. I struggled to remain standing under his assault, another tongue lashing on the opposite breast before the rain of kisses resumed.

Hands massaged down my back, towards my ass, his fingers caressing both cheeks fully. As his fingers explored my backside, his lips enjoyed the front of me. Kisses down my abdomen, into my valley, Tyson dropping to one knee before me. Even as his tongue started to slither where I wanted it most, my pussy dripping with wetness, I felt like I was being used.

Usually when a man plunges his tongue into a woman's folds as delicately as Tyson was, it was a rare form of submission. That he was dedicating himself entirely to another's pleasure. The way he was doing it, though, he wasn't serving me. No, the opposite. His licks tickled every bit of my tender folds, poking into my sex, wetting my clit. He was focused, and so driven at the act, and I trembling, the pleasures making their way through my body.

This was because he demanded it. He wasn't doing this because I wanted him to. It was because I was his - his to taste, his to enjoy, his to make come and melt into his will. I was his plaything, and nothing brought him greater pleasure then the moans of the toy he was showing off to his friends.

The eyes of the billionaires were locked on me, even as arm candy and servants were stripped bare and served the ones who had purchased them this evening. The  most powerful men and women in world gazed at me, and took in the sight of my raw sexuality being displayed.

All while Tyson did his damnedest to make sure I didn't care, that I would tremble with the threat of a fantastic orgasm. A swift and delicate tongue slithered into my sensitive sex. His hands ran up the back of my thighs. I stood petrified, blankly waiting for the train of bliss to hit me, yearning for it, begging for it. "Oh - Oh - My - " I stammered out.

It hit and I crumbled, my legs unable to hold any longer. But he was there to catch me, as he swiftly stood, a finger sliding into my pussy, tickling my clit. He sought to drag out those pleasures, make me moan his name, and sing his praises. With my blurred vision, I could only see his grin. The sounds of my pleasure were a symphony to him.

Over his shoulder, I watched the crowd. They had watched me come - something so intimate, something so private. If I hadn't enjoyed it so much I'd have died of embarrassment. Tyson stroked my hair, his pleasure with my pleasure clear. "Excellent, Marci. Now are you ready to do your part?"

"Uh huh." He guided me to my knees. The wonderful ache still inside me, I knew what he was asking. I had to do it better, more fiercely than every other woman.

I unzipped his dress pants, my fingers reaching in. My fingers trembled, through the remnants of orgasm or general nervousness. I found Tyson, his cock hot and hard as I pulled him out, the daunting organ intimidating me as much as the situation. He stood tall and gazed down at me expectantly.

Timidly, my tongue ran up the underside of his shaft, it trembling ever so slightly from the sensations I was delivering to him. Up the underside and down the top, I embraced the taste of his sweat, of him, and everything else. Even though I knew the entire room was watching me, I cared only about him at that moment. The man who had delivered me to such a wonderful new life, the man who had brought me such joy, had taken my virginity, and who would soon realize what a mistake I was.

Bad thoughts aside, I focused on the now. My lips opened slightly, and began to devour him. His thick cock pushed my lips apart, as I wanted to keep my mouth so tight for him. I kept him slick for my licks and sucks, did so much to please him as he stood assertively over me, his only gesture a hand on my hair, which was just as much voiceless command as comfort.

Slowly, I began to bob my head up and down on him. I wasn't an expert on the task at hand. Tyson was the only man I had enjoyed in any way carnally. But he loved it. Every way I gave him my eager and enthusiastic nature, bobbing my head up and down on him, using spirit as a replacement for experience. His eyes, his low grunts told me that he was enjoying my efforts, ambrosia to my ego.

I took him fully, holding my breath in dedication to his pleasure as I slid my mouth over his cock. Every little bit of friction from my lips, my hands massaged him where my mouth was not. But unlike me, he wasn't showing it, he wasn't going to melt into a gooey mess from coming. He stood stoically, again part of the show he was putting on, to say that he had those so willing to please him. But even at his most vulnerable he was unphased.

A trickle of his juices touched on my tongue, and I savored it. Even before his grip on my hair became tighter, I knew he wasn't going to waste his seed down my throat. My heart beat with panic, as I was far from done this evening. My tongue and lips gave him one last caress as he pulled away from me.