Lindsay Anastacio drifted out of a twenty-minute nap somewhere along Utah State Route 142 on the way home to Salt Lake City. The nineteen-year-old struggled to open her eyes and subsequently nestled deeper against the masculine arm she had been holding on to while dozing. “Hmm, where are we?” She scrunched her face, yawned, and blindly kissed the silhouette of a naked woman shackled in chains tattooed upon that bicep.
“About to enter Falls Church and merge onto Interstate 15. Still, have an hour to go, so sit back and relax.” At the helm of his 2019 Lamborghini Huracán EVO Spyder convertible and concentrating on the road in front of him, Sammy still took time to lean over and plant a quick-hitting kiss on Lindsay’s cheek. He trailed a soothing fingertip across the sweep of her neck and gave it a tickle. “Did you have a good snooze, babygirl?”
“Yes, I did.” Sammy had varying, complex layers to his personality, but when he was soft-spoken and considerate, it never failed to warm Lindsay to her bones. At times, he’s like a big, cuddly grandpa, and I want to sit in his lap and snuggle and love on him forever! “Oh, I’m so tired. These two days were so much fun, and I thank you for it, but it’s been a crazy last week or so. Everything, I think, has caught up to me.” A tendon in her throat twitched. “And it’s about to get crazier come tomorrow morning.”
At Sammy’s urging, Lindsay toured the campuses of Westminster College and The University of Utah this past Thursday. He had been stressing how a proper education would benefit her later in life since they became an item almost a year ago.
He wanted her to find an institute where she felt comfortable and begin taking classes there in the fall. Therefore, Lindsay was looking at campuses in the greater Salt Lake area and had an eye on majoring in Sociology. Granted, her grades weren’t the best in high school, but Sammy would see to it that she applied herself from this point forward and, in short order, emerge as a top-notch student. He expects a perfect GPA and says I’ll get caned for anything less.
“I’m not a spring chicken anymore,” the fifty-nine-year-old often reminded her. “I won’t be around to provide for you forever.”
Down the road, Lindsay envisioned herself as either a counselor, sales representative or financial manager. Sociology was a solid foundation for all three. Maybe someday I’ll become one of the head honchos at Gradiph Pharmaceuticals, just like Daddy!
The duo was returning from a two-day hiking trip at Mount Naomi, the highest peak in the Bear River Mountains of northern Utah and southern Idaho. This morning, Lindsay and Sammy took High Creek Ridge Trail to High Creek Lake, a strenuous, exhausting six-hour hike that tested Sammy’s endurance. Famous for its melting glaciers, carved valleys, alpine meadows, and spectacular lakes, Mount Naomi was a postcard of life: wild horses, wolves, bears, mountain lions, moose, and elk, among many other creatures, patrolled the countryside.
Located northwest of Logan, Utah, in Wasatch-Cache National Forest, Mount Naomi ascended to 9,983 feet and was yet another outdoor adventure Lindsay checked off her to-do list.
“Don’t think I’ve ever told you this before, but I went to high school right here in Falls Church.” Sammy cocked his head and grinned. “This is where I grew up.”
Lindsay gazed his way with a sudden focus and waited for the story to continue.
“Graduated from Bear River Valley High in 1977. Our football team lost the state semi-finals when I was a junior in fourteen inches of snow. That was crazy. Never forget that night. I was the quarterback. One of my teammates went on to the NFL and had a long and successful career. He was an outstanding guy. Should be in the Hall of Fame, too, if you ask me.” Sammy’s left hand tightened its grip on the steering wheel. “Wow, high school. Those were the days.” His lips tremored. “Where did all those years go?”
Lindsay poked his ribs and made him squirm. “I bet you had all the girls beating down your door as the star quarterback. I could so see you as a jock.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped both arms around them, and offered a slow smile that continued building. “You had your pick of any girl in the school, didn’t you?”
Sammy rolled a shoulder. “I wouldn’t go that far, but yes, I had quite a few girlfriends when I was younger. And surprise, gasp, shock … I didn’t have to pay for any of them.” He asked Barbara to the senior prom and married her twelve months later. Of course, fast-forward four decades, and Barbara ranked as Sammy’s biggest regret, but he was trying to pick up the pieces and enjoy the latter stages of life with this remarkable blend of sugar and spice beside him. Still, the divorce was brutal and splintered his family. Of his four children, Carolyn remained the only one he was on speaking terms with.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Concern marring her features, Lindsay ran a finger through his weathered, thinning hair.
“Nothing.” Sammy grid his teeth into a smile. “Nothing at all.”
“Okay.” Lindsay didn’t believe him but knew it was pointless to try to coax out any further answers. Sammy could be stubborn, and she was still learning how to deal with all his idiosyncrasies. “If you and I went to high school together, you wouldn’t have dated any other girls but me.” She leaned back and relaxed with a friskiness in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have permitted it. You would’ve belonged to me and no one else. You would be my dick.”
A muscle in Sammy’s jaw bunched. “I wouldn’t be permitted to date other broads, but I’m sure you’d still be able to, right? Especially if Mariko or Becky were around?”
“You know it! I’d be one of those gals who cucks her boyfriend or husband – you – and goes out on hot, steamy dates with my girlfriends, spends the night fucking them, and doesn’t return until the next morning.” Lindsay snickered behind closed lips. “And you would be one of those beta males who stays home, does all the cooking and cleaning, all the housework, and you’d be required to lick my pussy on a moment’s notice.” A wild laugh burst from her mouth. “I’d make you wear a collar too!”
Sammy’s finger tapped the wheel as he glared over, the chords in his neck tense. “I’d be your lap dog, huh? Go down on you whenever you want. A… beta male? Me?” He shook his head but gave in to the teasing. For now. “Maybe I could live with that.” His hand trailed along Lindsay’s inner thigh. “I’ve always liked things that come in small packages.”
Lindsay’s eyes flashed toward his crotch, and her voice was full of snark. “That’s funny because I prefer big packages. Gargantuan packages.” She tipped her head back, her face to the sky, “Oh, I guess you’d be allowed to fuck my girlfriends too. I’m not the greedy type.”
“Gee, thanks.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. “You’re turning into a little comedian, aren’t you? How cute. Would you like some advice, babygirl?”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t quit your day job.”
Lindsay’s tongue ran a slow trail between her lips. “And what exactly is my day job, Mr. Steele?”
“You know what it is.” He cut his eyes to hers. “Personal. Executive. Trainee. You’re my assistant.”
“Pet, P-E-T. Yeah, got it.” Another smile traversed her lips. “Haha, you’re a riot too.” Lindsay’s head inclined to the right, and she offered a side-eye out the passenger window. “I’d fuck other guys, too, you know, while you stayed home and did all the chores. Not just girls.”
“Let’s be blunt, shall we, little one? No need to beat around the bush or for you to speak out of line anymore, or tease me, disrespect me. No more of this bullshit.” Sammy’s tone darkened. “You’re a cocksucker, Lindsay. You’re my cocksucker; you belong to me. We may be engaged now and getting married in December, but you’re still a twenty thousand-dollar-a-week cocksucker, and you live in the lap of luxury because of it.” How many women would trade places with Lindsay in a heartbeat? A generous weekly stipend and unlimited use of Sammy’s credit cards? A brand-new BMW convertible? An all-expenses-paid trip through college? “And don’t you dare fucking forget it.” In the brothel industry alone, Sammy figured, ninety percent of the prostitutes would offer life and limb if they could be in Lindsay’s shoes.
“Hmm. Such a sweet-talker, Daddy. So smooth. But I cannot argue or disagree with you.” Lindsay closed her eyes and sank deeper into the passenger seat. “I’m a cocksucker. And a damn good one too.”
“You’re a mouthy cunt as well.”
Though enjoying the start of a week-long vacation from work, Sammy still filed electronic paperwork from the mountain resort this morning, fielded telephone calls, and had a video conference. Unfortunately, his duties as CEO never went on hiatus too.
At the same time, Lindsay found herself perched on her knees underneath the desk, keeping up with her own workplace responsibilities.
“Just keep suckin’, darlin’. Don’t stop until I tell you to. Oh, fuck yeah. Feels so nice and good. Take your time and make it last. Do it like I taught you. That mouth of yours is like a pussy, and without question, it’s the best investment I’ve ever made. Now keep the noise down – don’t say anything – as I talk with Johnathan, my marketing guru. Just. Keep. Sucking. Remember to tongue and nuzzle my balls too. You know I like that.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Lindsay had settled into the role of submissive sugar baby, a bed girl stuffed with dick, made to please her owner (and his friends) so shamefully. She put her right hand down, then her left, and was on her hands and knees underneath the desk, her golden locks bobbing with the motion of her head, her mouth cherishing Sammy’s dick as if it were the greatest gift she’d ever received.
“Did I tell you to stop sucking?” At one point, Sammy glared down with evil intentions when she borrowed a few seconds to catch her breath. “Put that dick in your mouth where it belongs, and get back to work.” He leaned over and smacked the side of her bare hip with an open palm. “If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you to stop.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy.” Lindsay unhinged her jaw, and a feeble whimper came from within. “Please, please, don’t be angry with me.”
“Just shut up and suck it.”
Sammy held her head still and loitered between her lips and enjoyed the view that he loved the most – that of his concubine with a dick in her mouth. The delightful feeling made it difficult to talk shop with his colleague, so Sammy cut the video a few times and indulged himself, bulldozing into Lindsay just so he could hear her gag.
In the vehicle, silence reigned amongst them for several seconds.
*
Sammy turned and snuck a peak at Lindsay’s slender calves and her stonewashed denim shorts once she reached into her purse and fished out her smartphone. It was a brand-new Samsung Galaxy S10 Plus – perhaps the hottest, most preeminent mobile device on the market at the time – and like so many of Lindsay’s current worldly possessions, Sammy was the one who purchased it.
His eyes drifted upward and focused on her breasts for a beat, obscured by a Los Angeles Dodgers blue hoodie. Another worthwhile investment. This past March, Sammy convinced Lindsay to undergo breast augmentation surgery, with 540cc of silicone injected into each breast, upgrading her from a 32B bust size to 34D. She’s such a pure fuckdoll now – not even one hundred pounds soaking wet, yet a full D cup. Straight out of the Goddamn smut factory.
Though the procedure cost $8,000, it was a small price to pay. I think I’m gonna put my dick between those massive jugs when we get home and go to town again. She had gotten a second tattoo, too – a flower wrapped around her left ankle to compliment the butterfly on her abdomen. The ink gives her an edge. It’s sexy as all hell, and she’s getting more soon. I’m gonna see to it.
Sammy returned his gaze to the road as Lindsay swiped her phone and began tapping away. Still, he kept stealing glances. It’s so satisfying to have a chick this young ready to serve my lusts. Like a mad scientist, Sammy was molding Lindsay into his ideal woman. She’s coming along but still needs some wholesale changes. For anyone who claimed money couldn’t buy happiness, Sammy had a simple three-word response: you’re fucking nuts.
I think I want her pregnant by the time our wedding rolls around in December too. However, it wouldn’t be a typical ceremony. Or perhaps I should gather up all eight of the guys from Nightshade Sanctuary, and we can take turns fucking her in the bridal suite. Could Lindsay, who thrived on cock like no one Sammy had ever known, ask for a more memorable wedding night? Or, better yet, just gangbang the holy hell out of her – all at once.
Tomorrow, she takes another step in her ongoing training.
“You texting again?”
“I am. Becky is DMing me.” Lindsay purred as Sammy squeezed her thigh, and a slow, lazy grin overtook her lips. She flashed her phone his way, offering visual proof that it was Becky, not anyone else. “Always good to hear from her.”
A former client, Becky Watson, visited Happy Ending Ranch in July 2018 and partied with Lindsay for several hours over two different nights. Lindsay and Becky shared a genuine connection when together – similar to the attraction Lindsay and Sammy experienced the night they had their initial party as well – and had struck up a relationship outside the house.
Unfortunately, Becky lived all the way across the country in Rhode Island. Her marriage to Nick had fallen on hard times since their ill-fated trip to Nevada, and they were now separated.
Are you and Sammy still on the road?” Lindsay read the text from Becky out loud. “If so, when you get home and have a moment, send me another pic of your beautiful new titties.”
Sammy’s eyes widened. “No reason you can’t do that now. We’re on an open highway in Falls Church on a Monday evening. It’s not like there’s a ton of traffic.” His lips curved upward. “What did you text her in return?”
Lindsay tilted her head back and forth and again recited verbatim, “Your tongue has been on my mind all day. And whenever I think of it and remember how you went down on me and made me squirt and splash and come like a leaky sieve, I can’t stop touching myself. I get wet every single time and had to change my panties earlier because of you.”
Lindsay paused, giggled, and took a deep breath.
“True story too. I wasn’t embellishing anything. I sent her another text too. What would you do to me if I showed up at your house tonight in nothing but a G-string, heels, and a fur coat?” She smirked. “Waiting for a response.”
Sammy swallowed over the lump in his throat. “That’s… quite a pair of texts.” And now, his dick was hard.
With her marriage to Nick in shambles, Lindsay convinced Becky to come to Utah a month ago so they could be together again. But unlike last year, Becky didn’t have to pay a cent as Lindsay promised not to charge her. In fact, it was the other way around. Sammy gifted Becky $20,000 in cash, a huge help in paying her bills, and when she and Lindsay weren’t fucking like lesbian hellcats, well, Sammy was fucking both of them.
At the same time.
Becky is an eight, maybe a nine, no doubt, but she’s too old for me. Still, Sammy floated around the idea of the thirty-six-year-old leaving Rhode Island altogether, moving to Utah, and settling down with him and Lindsay. I know how important Becky is to Lindsay, and I want to keep her happy. Sammy told Becky she wouldn’t have to get a job unless she wanted to either. I’d take care of her, too, and make her my plaything. She’s old, but whatever. Yet the arrangement, the transaction, had to be a two-way street.
While the thought of being with Lindsay full-time was tempting, not to mention bailing on her dead-end job, Becky balked at the idea of moving in with a man pushing sixty. Plus, she had a pair of teenage children back home and didn’t want to leave them behind.
But when they got older and ventured out on their own, she may change her tune.
“So, is this Becky chick your perfect woman? The one, out of all the girls you wish you could be with?” Sammy merged over to the left lane and passed a Sunday driver. “I know she’s old enough to be your mom, and that thought alone turns you on.” If I’m not mistaken, I believe her daughter turned seventeen a week ago. “She’s fit, she’s blonde, she’s an all-out MILF.”
Lindsay twirled her head about and let loose with an easy smile. “Becky is right up there with Mariko and Pamela in my book, for sure. I could make a case for all three of them and for different reasons. It’s close. You remember how much I cried when Becky went home to Rhode Island, right? I didn’t want her to leave.” If Lindsay had her way, she would rescue Becky from an unfulfilling life, and the two ladies, along with Sammy, would travel the world and have copious amounts of sex.
“And you don’t want anything to do with Amy, right?”
“Amy? Scarlett, you mean? Scarlett from Flagstone? The brothel?” Lindsay’s nose quivered. “No. No way. She’s so fake. Everything about her disgusts me.”
“Fair enough. I know Amy isn’t your type. She never has been. I still like her, though. That’s why I keep bringing her back.” I need help; it’s getting difficult to keep up with this cunt. Sammy wanted to devote himself to Lindsay and this forbidden relationship but also understood they would never have the typical marriage with three kids, a house in the suburbs, and a white picket fence.
It's impossible to turn a hoe into a housewife.
Sammy realized that Lindsay was a nymphomaniac – her sex drive is twice as powerful as mine, and that’s saying something – and for her to settle into a marriage (and stay committed to it for any length of time), she would require plenty of action on the side too.
While sharing Lindsay with his male friends and colleagues from time to time helped, for sure, Sammy was looking for something much more permanent. I need a hot chick to live with us full-time. Someone who wants to fuck as much as Lindsay does so they can keep each other occupied. Was inviting Becky to stay with them for an entire week, illegal 'house calls' from Scarlett, Mariko, Sahara, and Riley, amongst many others, and giving Lindsay as much of his dick as he could enough? No. It’ll never be enough. I’m only one man, not an army.
Sammy knew there would come a day – perhaps soon – when Lindsay says that she wishes to go back to the brothel for another tour or two. She took twenty-eight dicks over those three weeks and wears that fact like a badge of honor now. Indeed, Lindsay loved sex. Craves it. Sammy believed that returning to a whorehouse, though he preferred it not be Happy Ending Ranch, would make Lindsay happier than anything.
Even happier than being with him.
She’s a slut; she needs that fix again, and I’m okay with that. I’m a big boy, I’m secure. I know what I signed up for in asking a teenage whore to marry me. There was no way Sammy could expect Lindsay to be faithful and monogamous, right? She’d begged and pleaded with me to take her to the club the past three Tuesdays. Submissive or not, he feared she would be fucking others behind his back in due time unless he continued to allow her to spread her wings, so to speak, and fly free. Like that butterfly on her tummy.
Lindsay is happy with me, I know, and there’s no way she walks away from the money. Still, Sammy understood that for a girl like this, there would always be more out there. Even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
I gotta give Lindsay the space she wants, the space she needs, and be willing to step away when necessary. Thus, he had made all the arrangements himself and insisted she board a flight from Salt Lake City to Phoenix, Arizona, in the morning. Tomorrow, she becomes independent – a prostitute for hire outside the legality of a Nevada brothel and the comfort zone I’ve created for her here in Utah.
I never thought I’d pimp a girl out, outside my inner circle, at least, but here I am. …
Sammy retrieved a joint from his pocket and popped it out of the tube. He placed it between his lips and produced a lighter. It sparked, but no flame came out. “Goddammit.”
“Here.” Lindsay covered the lighter with her left hand, and it worked. “Don’t forget to share.”
“Thanks.” Sammy took a hit and passed it over.
She inhaled and coughed several times. “Whoa, this weed is strong. It’s different. What type is it?”
“It’s called Skywalker. It’s good shit, isn’t it?”
Lindsay took a second hit, and her head vibrated. “Yeah, real good shit.”
Among the countless transformations she had undergone in the past year, Lindsay was a regular blazer now, having resorted to smoking marijuana on Christmas Day. The euphoric high, the head rush, followed by a slow, steady, and relaxing calm, proved to be the perfect elixir to deal with the aftermath of Evie’s suicide. Without cannabis and her newfound addiction to alcohol (Modelo beer being her drink of choice), Lindsay didn’t know if she would’ve survived that horrific saga.
I like it when she gets high and is drunk. Everything about Lindsay and her personality amplified tenfold when under the influence, and she became even more of a maniac in the bedroom. It’s so fucking adorable when she starts slurring and waddles around like a duck. On Friday night, Lindsay didn’t put up a protest when Sammy jammed his dick into her mouth and emptied his bladder. Ahh, what a charmed life I lead.
*
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Lindsay leaned over and kissed Sammy’s cheek. “I love you, Daddy! I love my Daddy so much.” She settled back into her seat and curled a leg beneath her, her head propped against the headrest, and turned to the left so she could focus on him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive? You said your back was bothering you earlier. It might be best that you be the one to sit back and relax. Don’t worry, okay? I know my way home since we’re on the freeway now. Plus, there’s always GPS.”
“Thanks, little one, but I’m fine. Back is fine too. I can nap later tonight once we’re back in Salt Lake and settled in. That is after I fuck you again.”
Lindsay squirmed and giggled like an excited schoolgirl. An animated (and exaggerated) reaction, but she was at ease and having fun. Or perhaps a little high? Her timid, submissive alter ego would only come out when called upon. Sammy enjoyed her happy-go-lucky attitude way too much to suppress it one hundred percent of the time.
“Do we have anything to do before going home?”
“Umm,” Sammy said, “Well, the convertible is filthy after the trip to the mountains, so we’re gonna hit the car wash. I have to stop at the post office, too, and drop a couple of things off in the mailbox.” He gazed over. “Why? Any errands you need taken care of?”
“Can we stop at Twisted Toppings for dinner?”
“Twisted Toppings?” He made a face. “The pizza place? No.” The glimmer in his eyes extinguished. “Hell, no. You just ate there last week, and that shit is unhealthy as fuck for you. Pizza will make you gain weight. I don’t want no fuckin’ fat girl as my cunt piece.”
Lindsay’s expression bled into a snarl, but she was quick to hide it. Why are you such a pig? Not wanting to cause any drama, which would lead to nothing but bad things for her in the end, she turned sultry, trailing a forearm across her overinflated breasts. Calm down, girlfriend. You don’t want to say something that sets Daddy off and jeopardizes the lifestyle you lead. “I mean, I am kind of hungry, but it doesn’t have to be pizza.” Or for him to bust out the cane once we arrive home. Similar non-reactions had kept Lindsay out of heaps of trouble over the past year. If anything, she’d learned it was best to deflect Sammy’s crassest, most hateful remarks, even ignore them.
“I really do appreciate you taking me to Mount Naomi.” She slipped the Dodgers hoodie over her head and stuffed it underneath the passenger seat for safekeeping.
Sammy couldn’t fight temptation, glancing over again and drinking in his submissive’s incredible beauty. The camisole top did a terrible job of concealing her breasts, though he wasn’t complaining. Her bra busters weren’t on display, but the snug fit left little to the imagination. Lindsay’s hair was pulled up in a ponytail, too, and Sammy grinned at the wild, frazzled tendrils that curled around her face as the wind whipped by in the open convertible.
“I want to show my appreciation to you for our little trip.” Lindsay worked her tongue over hungry lips. This should calm him down and make him happy. Who knows? I may get pizza after all. “I’d love to thank you in my own patented way.”
“Uhh, how?” Sammy merged over to the slow lane, allowing another motorist to pass, and reset the cruise control.
“You know …” She glided a finger along the zipper of his jeans and nibbled on her inner cheek.
The landscape of his face suddenly changed. “Oh, boy, here we go again.”
“…I want to do something special for you.”
“You’re so bad.” Laughter drifted from Sammy’s chest. “Why are you so bad? You’re such a naughty cunt.”
Adrenaline raged as she popped open the button on his jeans and eased the zipper down. “I can’t help myself. Please, Daddy? I wanna give you road head as a thank you. Can I suck it? Pretty, pretty please?”
“What’s wrong with you?” A cramp seized Sammy’s jaw. “Can’t you wait until we make it back to Salt Lake?”
“I want to have you right now.” Sammy gave in, as most red-blooded American men would, lifting his hips so Lindsay could wrangle his jeans down and ultimately free his cock. “You’ve taken such good care of me this past year, and, you know, I just want to take care of you back.” Yet again, Lindsay’s tongue flashed between her lips for a split second. “Please.”
When no further words were spoken, Lindsay took the initiative, grinning and spitting into her left hand. Turning toward him and rocking back on one knee, she leaned over, and her palm returned to Sammy’s dick, smearing her saliva with frantic up-and-down strokes.
“Daddy?” She set her mouth on his neck and kissed a path to his ear.
“Yes, babygirl?” Sammy clung to the wheel with both hands, knowing ecstasy awaited. Wanting to be careful, he double-checked that the speed control was set to seventy.
He was trembling when Lindsay’s warm breath tickled his ear, and she asked, “Are you gonna get big and hard for me?” She lifted her other knee onto the seat as well. Wrestling with the seatbelt, which was annoying, Lindsay flung her ponytail across her right shoulder before sprawling her frontside atop the center console. Sammy leaned back and raised his near arm to offer extra space until she found a comfortable position. He brought his hand to her denim-clad backside and its sweet, elastic contours.
Meanwhile, Lindsay released the seatbelt and slid her fist to the base of Sammy’s erection, and licked its tip. “Hmm… I love feeling and watching it grow.” She favored him with an innocent stare and a tic plucked at her nostrils. “People passing by are going to see, aren’t they?”
“Yes, I’d say so. I suggest you stay crouched low unless you want to draw unwanted attention to yourself.”
“Fuck that.” Lindsay wiggled her ass. “Others noticing will make it all the more exciting!” She dabbed her tongue on the slit at the head of his shaft, extracting white fluid and tasting it. “Feel free to come in my mouth, too, Daddy. You know I don’t mind.” She scooted closer, which pulled her legs even further apart on the passenger side. “Ooooh, there we go. It’s getting so hard.”
Sammy gripped Lindsay’s shoulder and inhaled slow and steady as she secured her lips around his length and drew him halfway in. She emitted an excited laugh as a growl started low in Sammy’s chest, climbing up his throat to spill out as a howl from his lips.
“I love you, Daddy.” Her hand still encompassed the base, almost squeezing too hard, but Sammy wasn’t about to voice any objections.
“Holy shit,” he muttered instead.
Lindsay did it again, this time increasing the pressure and luring him deeper. She took her hand off his cock once, contacting her fingers. She placed that hand on his thigh and anchored it, her elbow flat, not wanting to interfere with the steering wheel. “There we go. Oh, Daddy.” Lindsay gave another hearty groan and didn’t stop descending until her nose was pressed against his pubic hair.
Jesus, how much of this could Sammy withstand? They were on Interstate 15 now, not a sleepy state highway, and all it would take was one second of misjudgment (or, in this case, distraction) for there to be a horrible accident. A multiple-car pileup, even.
“Babygirl, pull off. This isn’t safe. It’s not smart.”
Instead of obeying his order, Lindsay doubled her efforts and sucked like a fanatic, hollowing out her mouth each time as she withdrew his dick and then slamming back down.
A vehicle passed on the left. Sammy glanced over and saw a lone man, but fortunately, he kept his eyes tuned straight ahead.
Shaking his head, Sammy grunted and fisted his hand in Lindsay’s ponytail, not pulling, just needing something else of her to hold on to. He did his best to concentrate on driving and staying safe. At the same time, she continued to bob up and down on his length. Her lips were coming up halfway now, and his dick would barely escape the feverish clutches of her throat before she descended again. Lindsay never stopped moving her tongue, twirling it in every direction with no rhyme or reason.
“Goddamn. Fuck!” Coiled around the steering wheel, the fingers on Sammy’s left hand bleached white, and his toes curled in his shoes.
His eyes almost slid shut as Lindsay tormented him, knowing that, even as Sammy’s concubine, she held power over him too. To feel his hand tighten in her hair, to know she was pushing him to the precipice of release with her mouth and tongue, it was exhilarating. Sammy’s hips and thigh muscles were hardened, almost turned to stone, against her hands where she was holding on to him. His pleasure was her pleasure.
“You’ve got to stop,” she heard him say as if from a long distance. “I can’t last much longer.”
Feminine instincts took over as Lindsay moved a palm from his thigh and squeezed both testicles at once. Her tongue lashed circles on the sensitive skin. She fucked Sammy with her whole body through only her mouth. He had grown bigger, thicker, under her guidance, and she yearned to taste his essence. Lindsay needed more. She needed all of him, moaning over his burgeoning flesh, the unexpected vibration sending shockwaves spiraling from his core. Her throat convulsed around his dick.
Another car passed by, but Sammy was too preoccupied to look over. Besides, what the hell did he care if some righteous Karen stared at their lewd public display and bitched at her husband about it? The swirling storm in Sammy’s gut intensified, building until it was an incessant, violent, dangerous tornado.
“I’m gonna come!”
She gripped the base of his cock with her right hand and milked away, flattening her other palm on his ass. Lindsay took Sammy deep, urging him on, preparing herself for his ejaculation to coat the back of her throat. It came in pulses, of course, and she allowed the spunk to pool within as he voiced his satisfaction above.
In the aftermath, Lindsay brought her mouth off of Sammy’s dick carefully, keeping her lips sealed around his flesh. Those lips stayed that way, too, even as she pulled up and away and lifted from his lap. In the process, Sammy’s hand fell from her hair.
A smile swung free as Lindsay slid her legs from the leather beneath her and moved upright with a mouthful of her Master’s cum. She plopped down, facing him in the passenger seat, as her taste buds were being serenaded.
Lindsay reduced Sammy’s breath to a wheeze as their eyes linked, and she swished the gooey goodness around in her mouth. Sammy inclined his head sideways. “Fuck, I’ve never had a girl who loves cum as much as you do.”
She swallowed the load in a single gulp, and her eyes closed for a lengthy blink. “Are you complaining?”
“Fuck no.” Sammy shook away the cobwebs littering his brain and refocused on the road ahead. On staying safe. On being a responsible driver, not wanting to ruin his or someone else’s life. “I love how you crave my sperm. You’re such an incredible girl.” He lifted his hips to pull his jeans and boxers back up, and Lindsay held the wheel for him as he fastened his zipper.
He took the wheel back and snatched her left hand with his right. She inspected their entwined fingers and then grazed his thick beard with the back of her hand.
“Good, because I do love it, Daddy. So very much.”
Again, there was a long beat of silence.
*
“Are you looking forward to your trip tomorrow?”
Lindsay grimaced and knitted her eyebrows. “I still don’t know if I should go through with that or not.”
“What? What are you worried about?” Sammy rubbed a hand on his leg. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t see why you’re so Goddamn uptight about doing something people do thousands of times a day across the country, across the whole world, even. Gotta go out and live a little, babygirl. This is what girls like you do.”
Girls … like me?
He reached across the Lamborghini’s interior and put a hand on her knee. “I won’t be around forever.”
What if I get caught? Arrested? Lindsay took a long, hard hit from a fresh joint, and her face sagged.
Several months ago, Sammy struck up an e-mail and chat correspondence with Tony Dinallo, a business owner from southern Utah and one of the twenty-eight men who paid to have sex with Lindsay at Happy Ending Ranch. Sammy and Tony became friends, and with Tony harping on about Lindsay and how 'awesome' their encounter was, Sammy divulged that Lindsay was his 'live-in girlfriend' now and looking to turn a trick or two “for the right price.”
Tony was interested, of course, and after further discussions, had no issue with Sammy’s insistence that he pay Lindsay $10,000 in cash for a seventy-two-hour “date.” While a lot of money, Tony saw it as a bargain – he forked over $800 for one measly hour at the brothel last year. $10,000 would get him three overnights with Lindsay, unquestionably the sweetest piece of ass he had ever experienced, and, best of all, they wouldn’t be confined to the brothel. Tony could take Lindsay out to eat, go sightseeing, buy her presents, whatever she wanted.
And fuck her without any government regulations getting in his way.
He had been married for twenty-seven years, though, and harbored concerns his wife would find out if the date took place in Utah. So, his business trip to Phoenix this week provided the perfect cover for the transaction, illegal and punishable by jail time as it was. Tony was supposed to be in Arizona today, and today only, but had since arranged for three additional days, telling his bride the convention got extended and he had to be there for it.
In the morning, he would meet Lindsay at the baggage carousel at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, and their date would commence. He’s going to want to take me to the hotel and start fucking right away – I’m sure of it! Seventy-two hours later, Tony would bring Lindsay back to the airport, where they’d part ways, with her returning home (and to Sammy).
I didn’t ask for this, but Daddy is demanding I go there and whore out for Tony. I have to do what Daddy says, else he’ll punish me. Lindsay had no issue with Tony. The party we had was one of my favorites. Top five, if not top three. Tony smashing her against the wall and eating her ass out from behind was one of the sexiest things anyone had ever done to her. I have nothing but positive memories of that party. Rather, Lindsay was convinced that something would go horribly wrong. I’d kill myself like Evie did if I was ever sentenced to jail.
Why can’t I go back to the brothel and fuck Tony there? We’d have so much fun, and I wouldn’t be stressing out over everything like I am now.
Sure, if she got away with this, $10,000 would be a welcome addition to her savings. I’m nearing a million, I think, but ten thousand is ten thousand. If nothing else, a sizable addition to the pot. I won’t have the house to split my earnings with, and Daddy says I won’t be reporting the ten thousand on my taxes, either, so it’ll all be mine.
“Babygirl, you’ve seen Mariko, Scarlett, Sahara, Riley; they’ve all come to us several times, I’ve paid them, and there’s never been a problem. Olivia, as well, from The Sinner’s Paradise in Chimayo. So many times. Hell, I pay you, too, and you don’t have a problem with it. The guys at work, like Marvin, my friend Tony, Ben, and all the others, are quick to give you compensation as well.”
“That’s because I trust you, Daddy, and I trust them.” I’d really like to have an overnight with Mr. Phalen, a one-on-one.
“And you don’t trust this other Tony? You said he was such a wonderful guy. I have a copy of that man’s driver’s license; I know his phone number, where he lives, works, his wife’s name, his kids’ names, everything about him.” Just like a good pimp, right? “He’s not going to harm you in any way, I promise.”
“I do trust Tony.” Do I, really? It’s been almost a year since I last saw him. And we only partied together for sixty minutes, right? “I just don’t like going to an unfamiliar place and putting myself at risk. I’ll be scared shitless if a cop approaches us.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Just act natural and ignore them. Hell, a fucking cop won’t approach you anyway. They’d have no reason to.”
Lindsay chuffed out her trepidation through an open mouth and began tapping away on her smartphone again. Sammy figured that Becky must have responded, and Lindsay was sending her another text or perhaps being chatty with Alexa, another of her digital regulars. Whatever the case, Sammy chose not to inquire.
“We’re not stopping anywhere for dinner, either, because I’m tired and want to go home,” Sammy later said. “It’s been a long ass day. You can fix me some of those cauliflower chickpea patties. They’re vegan, and they’re super healthy, so you can eat them too. I want you off that fucking junk food once and for all.”
Lindsay gave him a glare designed to peel his hide before looking away without uttering a word.
*
Truth be told, Sammy had his reasons for wanting Lindsay out of the picture for a few days. It was about time that she started taking independent bookings – like a true whore should – but something else was at play too. While Lindsay was in Phoenix, Sammy would be in Flagstone, reacquainting himself with girls such as Pamela, Kenzie, and Gwen, among others. This is gonna be the best vacation I’ve had since last summer.
If Lindsay knew, Sammy figured she’d insist she come, too – or perhaps go back to work temporarily – because she had been talking a lot about Pamela in recent months and how much she missed her. Sammy considered Lindsay a motor mouth and certainly not the brightest crayon in the box. He feared even if she went back to Flagstone for a mere week, Lindsay would slip and say something to incriminate herself (or, more importantly, him). Thus, he had made the decision that she wouldn’t be permitted to step foot in Happy Ending Ranch ever again. I could give two shits about how much she missed Pamela.
The risk was far too great.
I’m not trusting my continued freedom and well-being in the hands of a cocksucker who’s a few meals away from turning into a slop cow. …
(End of Chapter Twenty - to be continued)
