Read Online Sleeping With the Help (Toyboy Lover) by Ava Rush - Free Book Online

Sleeping With the Help  
     
    T his was the second time that Rod Bentley's generously sized manhood had startled me with its presence. The first had been in my office; and now, in the living room of my home. As he stood completely naked in the middle of the room, hard-on throbbing, pointed in my direction, and a broad smile beneath his bushy, graying mustache, I didn't know whether to hand him the glass of champagne I'd poured or put it down and go to him immediately.
    “You've earned this,” he said. He peered down at his cock, then back up at me, his smile widening. “All of it.”
    “I'd be content with you paying what you owe me for getting you out of yet another bind,” I teased. I decided that putting the champagne down was the best option, seeing as he had other things on his mind to devour.
    He took a confident stroll towards me, pulling me close to him with one strong arm. I felt the wooden imprint of his manhood against my abdomen. My body brushed against the gray-brown patch of hair on his bare chest, which blanketed his chiseled abs. It still surprised me how a man of fifty could be in such great shape; he could give guys half his age a run for their money. Literally. As one of the richest men in Virginia he beat out competition from all directions, and was good-looking to boot. Six foot one and bald (by choice), he was the only bald guy I'd ever found attractive enough to invite into my bed; into my panties. He was the only guy who could really pull off the look.
    “You know I always pay up, doll. I'd be a fool not to pay my attorney now, wouldn't I? Especially when she makes me this hard.”
    “This is highly unprofessional, and unethical,” I said, though more to myself than to him. My words lacked real feeling. I wasn't going to deny myself a bit of fun after months of hard work. He was right; I had earned this.
    “You smell good enough to eat.” He buried his head in my neck, pushing my long, chestnut hair off my shoulder, and I felt his tongue dance across my flesh, forcing my eyes to flicker shut. “What's the scent?”
    “Elegance,” I murmured, growing wet as he held me tighter, closer, his cock digging further into me.
    He looked at me with a wicked grin, and slowly, without looking, undid the buttons on my blouse. “You'll be anything but elegant when I'm screwing you.”
    I knew it was a promise, and it sent a shiver of excitement down my body, causing goosebumps to spread all over my skin.
    He pulled away my shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and reached round to undo the hook of my bra. That too fell to my feet. He took one of my breasts in his mouth, gently sucking on my nipple, and lightly grazing his teeth against the sensitive area. As I threw back my head his hand disappeared beneath my skirt, and before I knew it he was sliding my panties down. I helped him out as best I could, just about able to find the strength, still overcome with ecstasy from his assault on my nipple.
    With my panties now around my ankles, he led me inelegantly towards the back of my couch, before bending me over it. I gripped onto the top, my nails digging into the leather as he lifted my pencil skirt up to my waist. He reached his hand around to my chest and massaged my breasts, his fingers working my nipples, his touch getting more aggressive as the seconds rolled on.
    So distracted with the assault on my breasts and the pleasure shooting through me, I was off my guard when he finally entered me from behind, driving his throbbing member into me. I let out a startled cry, as I had done the first time we'd done this, only truly able to appreciate his girth once he was inside me.
    His thrusts came quick and rough, every now and then forcing a grunt from his lips, whilst consistently making me moan and shoot off the requisite “oh God, yes!”. My hold on the couch was so strong now I thought I'd tear the fabric.
    “How elegant are you now?” he groaned, slamming his member against the wall of my hole.