Chapter 10
Peter
I see her the moment she walks into the bar. Gemma’s absolutely gorgeous dressed in that ridiculous pink feathery top, but it can’t hide her assets. She’s luscious and creamy, exactly the way I like them.
The Billionaires Club is ultra-selective when it comes to women, and it’s easy to see why. After all, we get our choice when it comes to hiring, and the women often ask to come back after they get a taste of the money. Plus, my brothers aren’t bad looking, if I say so myself. What’s so terrible about getting paid to hang out and sleep with hot guys, especially if it’s an all-expenses paid ride? More than one serving girl has supported her family this way, or put herself through school with the much-needed income.
Plus, Gemma fits what my brothers like. She’s ripe, young, curvy, and sassy to boot. We don’t like women who have personalities of cardboard. We like them feisty and even a little temperamental. After all, we’re surrounded by yes men, day in and day out. A little fire when it comes to tending the hearth can really add some spark to a man’s day.
And just in case you’re wondering, yeah, some of us do live here. We all have houses and apartments in the outside world, but sometimes, it’s just easier to stay at the clubhouse. There are private suites, and we’re surrounded by luxury. There’s a gym, a pool, a sauna, a spa, a library, and a private chef. You name it, we’ve got it. Plus, the club offers us privacy. There aren’t many paparazzi five miles below ground, so there aren’t any annoying questions or blinding flashes going off at unexpected times.
But Gemma was a sight to see. Gorgeous and curvy, she waltzed in and then her mouth dropped open. Because of course, the bar is a debauched place. The lush décor and dim light can’t hide what’s going on, which is a lot of kissing, fondling, and even full-on sex in some cases. Some of my brothers like a little exhibitionism, and with girls this hot, it always looks good.
So when she took her notepad and began to walk forwards with a determined look, my cock immediately got stiff. Oh shit, she’s so beautiful. Even more endearing is the way her delicate jaw is set, like she’s determined to make a success of herself. I get it. I come from a rough background myself, and sometimes there was nothing standing between me and despair but my bootstraps and an iron will. I respect her for that, and before I realize what I’m doing, my hand is raised and I’m calling her over.
“Hey,” is my low rumble. “How are you?”
She sees me and immediately inhales, those luscious breasts rising beautifully. Oh shit. I want to suckle and taste them so badly, but it seems rude to descend on her like some predator with no warning, even if that’s exactly what I am.
“Um, hello,” she says, mincing over to where I sit in a comfortable, low-slung club chair. I almost laugh. The high heels are killing her, although they make her legs look a mile long. “Oh wait,” she says with confusion. “I’m sorry. How can I help you, sir?”
Again, I almost burst out with laughter. This girl is so real that it’s refreshing. But I smile and decide to take it easy. “How about bourbon on the rocks? Ask for the Woodford Reserve, otherwise they’ll give you Maker’s Mark.”
To her credit, she nods immediately, sashaying away. Good. Gemma knows her top shelf liquor. I watch hungrily as that ass sways right and left, disappearing into the narrow curve of her back. In a few minutes, she’s back with a tumbler on her tray, filled with the good stuff.
“Here you go, Sir,” she says in a low voice, placing the glass on the small table at my side. “Enjoy. I’ll mark it to your bill.” Gemma turns to go, but I place one big hand on her thigh. Not so fast. I haven’t had my fun yet.
“You know,” I say casually, “I like to drink my bourbon a special way,” I remark. “Maybe you could help me with that.”
She turns back to me. “Can I get you a straw?” she asks innocently. “I mean, most people don’t drink whiskey with straws, but it’s fine if you do. To each their own.”
I actually laugh at that one.
“No, no straw necessary,” is my dry reply. “But I do like tasting my bourbon with a side, if you get what I mean.”
She turns and looks at me curiously.
“I’m sorry? With fries? Or maybe some mixed nuts?” Then Gemma catches herself. “Of course, Sir. Just tell me what I can do to make your experience better.”
Good, this woman is smart. She’s catching onto the program quick, and I smile at her, flashing even white teeth.
“Well, I like my bourbon with curves, so to say.”
She stares at me again, uncomprehending. Chuckling again, I decide to tell her the specifics.
“I like my bourbon coating a woman’s tits, if you get what I mean. I like sucking the liquid off a beautiful woman’s curves because it combines two of the things I enjoy most in the world: top-shelf liquor, and making a gorgeous girl feel good. Plus, it’s a nice end to a trying day. So what do you think, sweetheart? Are you up to the challenge?”
For a moment, I think she’s going to say no. Gemma’s brown eyes flash, and she looks like she’s about to spin on her heel and hightail it out of here. But then, her eyes go soft and her posture relaxes. Good. She’s intelligent, this one. Plus, judging from the way her tits are heaving, more than a little turned on.
“Of course I’m up for it, Sir,” she purrs, those big boobs jiggling ever so slightly. “Just tell me what to do.” My cock goes stiff, and my mouth waters, desperate to get inside her. I smile, trying to conceal my arousal.
“It’s easy, sweetheart. Dip your tits in my glass, and then I’ll suck the alcohol off you, sweetheart. It’s the best way to enjoy a drink, bar none,” is my wicked command.
Gemma stares at me with big brown eyes. Her mouth opens as if she’s going to protest, but then it snaps shut once more. Atta girl.
“Of course,” she says in a soft voice while putting down her tray. “I’m happy to do your bidding, Sir.”
I’m proud of this woman. She sees straight to the finish line, and knows what it takes. Good. Slowly, she picks up the glass.
“Let’s make things easy,” I rumble. “I’ll hold it while you dip.”
Her eyes grow wide again, but she nods. “Here,” I say, holding the tumbler in mid-air with a steady hand. “Push your breast into the amber liquid, sweetheart, and then pull it out so I can taste.”
Her cheeks flush and eyes flare, but she nods and takes her right breast in one hand. Slowly, she leans forward, squeezing her creamy flesh and angling it towards the glass. Then she dips it ever so slightly into the bourbon, gasping a bit at the cold liquid, before pulling back with the honey running off her breast.
I don’t hesitate. In the next second, I lean forward and seize her nipple with my mouth, the fiery taste of the alcohol bursting against my tongue alongside the heavenly taste of her breast. She’s hard and ready, moaning slightly as she pushes further into my mouth.
“That’s good,” I growl. “I like a girl who likes it.”
Gemma throws her head back and sighs, running her fingers through my hair.
“Mr. Carmichael,” she breathes. “Oh my god. This is so bad. Oh my god, what waitress does this?”
I ignore her words, merely suckling harder. My hands creep up her thigh, stroking that soft flesh. Shit, she’s curvy everywhere and I can’t wait to see these legs parted as I own her tender, steaming pussy.
Suddenly, her voice overhead interrupts my filthy thoughts.
“I thought I was supposed to stop by your office earlier. Why did you cancel it?” she murmurs.
What? Why is she talking about this now? But I lean back for a moment, popping her tit out of my mouth. I hold the tumbler up again, and obligingly, she dips her left breast into the whiskey this time.
“Because I wanted to do this at the bar,” I rasp while licking up and down her pink nipple. The alcohol is excellent, but it’s made even better by the sweet taste of her flesh. “You know, to evaluate how good you are on the job,” I rasp.
She giggles slightly even as her breath catches again.
“I hope I’m up to the task,” she murmurs. “After all, the Club is paying a pretty penny.”
I nod, even while gently tracing her areola with my tongue. She sighs again, her legs going weak, and I chuckle deep in my throat.
“We are, and we expect you to earn every cent,” I say in a deep rasp. “Turn around, baby girl. I also like getting my whiskey from a different spot.”
Her eyes fly open then, and her big boobs bounce as she inhales sharply. There’s no doubt what I’m saying. I want to taste the alcohol from her snatch, and Gemma knows it.
But just like before, the beautiful girl is aware of her position, and the role she needs to play. Judging from her secret smile and the hardness of her tips, I’m guessing that she likes it too. Sure enough, she spins around on her heels, and slowly angles her legs so that they’re shoulder-width apart.
“Bend over, sweetheart,” I growl, but my direction isn’t necessary. She already knows what needs to be done. Slowly, that narrow back drops forwards, and her skirt begins riding up her thighs. Inch after inch of creamy flesh is revealed, and my mouth waters at this delectable sight. Sure enough, the slight mound of her pussy comes into view, and then higher and higher until that steaming slit is presented before me.
Oh god, she’s so beautiful. Immediately my dick hardens and the need to pound into her is overwhelming. But that’s no way to treat a new girl on the job, so instead, I merely inhale deeply, enjoying the scent of aroused pussy.
“You’re gorgeous, Gemma,” is my low rumble. “Absolutely enticing.”
To my satisfaction, her pussy visibly plumps a bit, swelling before my eyes. A small bead of liquid gathers at her hole before rolling downwards towards her clit.
“Do you think so?” she breathes, looking at me from over her shoulder. “What do you like about it?”
Well, a million things for one. But I want to get dirty, and induct my new playmate into the debauched activities of the Billionaires Club. So taking my tumbler in hand, I dip my finger into the whiskey and then slowly smear it over her plush lips.
“Oh!” she cries out, eyes closing in ecstasy. “That feels good!”
“It only gets better, sweetheart,” I growl before leaning forwards and gently licking up her left pussy lip, crossing over and then licking down her right pussy lip. Oh fuck, it’s so tasty. Her cream’s coming fast now and the sweet, tangy mixture of female nectar with alcohol drives me insane.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” is my growl into her aching twat. “Let me have some more.”
With that, I push my tongue fully into her hole, and she squeals slightly, bucking a bit.
“That’s right, baby girl,” I rasp. “Fuck yourself back onto my tongue. I know you want it.”
She mewls, breathing heavily, as those big breasts sway.
“Oh my god, I didn’t know it could be like this,” she pants, even as I begin tongue-fucking her hole from behind. “Oh god, Mr. Carmichael,” is her musical mewl. “This feels soooo good.”
I grunt with approval before pulling my tongue out and gently tracing it over the bottom of her clit while stroking the hood back to reveal the hard pink nub.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart? How do you like your clit massaged?”
She pants then, back arching reflexively.
“Like that!” she cries out. But then Gemma turns to meet my eyes over one shoulder again. “Bite it,” she invites breathily. “Make it sting a little. I’m ready.”
Holy shit, this girl is so fucking dirty, but I’m a man that never says no to a beautiful woman. So with gentle teeth, I nip her clit and Gemma’s reaction is automatic. She grunts, bracing her hands on her knees, and then it happens. Her pussy dissolves into a series of tremors on my mouth, the girl gasping and crying as orgasm takes over.
“Yes,” she heaves, her personal ambrosia running like a river into my mouth now. “Oh god, yes.”
I push my tongue into her hole again, and the strong clenches and clamps of her cunt practically squeezes it right off. But that’s what I love. A woman coming hard on my hand, mouth, or dick. It makes life worth living, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
“Keep going, pretty baby,” I rasp into her spasming folds. “Give me everything. Let yourself let go.”
She mewls again, eyes closed as jets of liquid erupt into my throat.
“Oh god, Mr. Carmichael,” is her throaty moan. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
But this is no dream. This is reality, and I plan to own every inch of that delectable body. After she’s done, I gently lap her cunt again, savoring the final trails of sweet nectar. “You’re real wet,” I compliment her. “Just the way I like it.”
Her cheeks blush, even as she holds still under my ministrations.
“I know, I tend to get really wet when I’m aroused, and oh god,” she gasps, suddenly remembering she’s in the club. “We’re in public. I forgot.
My smirk is immediate, even as I back off and deliver a solid smack to her rump. She’s curvy and full, so the butt cheek reverberates with my slap.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” I say with satisfaction. “Because wasn’t this fun?” I ask rhetorically. “You just enjoyed yourself big time,” I say, licking my lips and tasting the remnants of her cream again.
She smiles at me, slowly straightening while pulling down her skirt so that her pussy’s out of sight once more. But not for long. I intend on using her body over and over again, and tasting her sweet cream on my tongue all night. I intend to have that female nectar glistening on my fuckrod, and to have this woman trembling and shaking with desire as I own her. After all, Gemma’s mine …. she just doesn’t know it yet.