The Love of Money I - Cover

The Love of Money I

Copyright© 2024 by MindSketch

Chapter 5c: Grounded

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5c: Grounded - Marcus Upton is a young man living in New York City. He has a good job in finance, great friends, a good job, and the love of a good woman. And then a single day changed all that for him. Enjoy the journey of a regular man who has just come into unbelievable wealth and witness the doors and opportunities it opens for him.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Blackmail   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   Workplace   Cheating   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Light Bond   Rough   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Black Female   White Female   Oriental Female   Big Breasts   Small Breasts   Revenge   Slow  

As she walked into the hotel suite, I could tell by her gait that Bobbi was uneasy at being here as she moved down the hall in front of me. Her steps were slow and deliberate, making the journey into the main bedroom take much longer than it needed. Not that I was terribly worried about how fast or slow she was walking; I was still trying to process the fact that Bobbi Nanford was in my room.

Despite my wariness, I couldn’t help but feel a certain level of arousal as I took in her form. Like I’ve said before, Bobbi was a relatively small girl. I guessed that she was about 5’2” tall when she wasn’t wearing heels, which wasn’t often. She wasn’t overly curvy, but she had an impressively tiny waist, and her smaller frame made the assets she did have seem more pronounced. Her hips flared outward from her small waist, giving me the impression that there was plenty to hold onto. Her completely natural B-cup breasts appeared slightly larger on her petite figure. She looked as if grabbing her by the hair and dragging her around was actually possible, and I felt the stirring of my cock under my robe thanks to that image.

After what felt like an eternity, Bobbi made it through the entry hall and entered the main bedroom, where she took some time to study her surroundings. I watched as she became aware of my clothes piled on the floor near the entrance to the bathroom. Eventually, she dropped her purse on the bed and turned to look at me.

Bobbi Nanford was in my hotel room. No matter how many times I repeated that in my head, I couldn’t quite make it compute. She was standing beside my bed in a little black dress, wearing fuck-me heels with black straps wrapped most of the way up her calves, and half her light brown hair was pulled back and held in place with a silver clip while the rest fell around her lovely face.

She looked like a wet dream version of a disney princess.

At least, she would have if not for the tears running down her face, stained dark from her mascara.

“What are you doing here, Bobbi?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level and free of emotion.

Moments ticked by as she simply stared at me with big, grey doe eyes full of sadness and ... was that fear?

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Her tone was faint and scared.

“What do you mean?” I asked. It wasn’t like I’d taken away her car or changed the locks on the door of her house. I hadn’t decided to go that far, yet.

“You turned off my phone. I ... I can’t get a rideshare,” Bobbi clarified. “I don’t remember my roommate’s number. I tried...”

Bobbi bit her lip and looked around the room as if looking for some sort of lifeline ... something to hold onto as she tried to grapple with the fact that she had nothing. At that moment, with tears streaming down her face and no one to turn to, I felt sorry for her.

And then I remembered that a few short hours ago she tried to smash me in the head with her phone. All the insults she’d hurled at me over the past year and the people she hurt flooded my mind. She wasn’t a helpless girl. She was more like a wounded predator trying to use every last trick she had to survive, and I had to remember that.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, Bobbi. I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

“I don’t want to go to jail,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “I don’t care.”

“What do I need to do?”

We stared at each other in complete silence for several awkward moments before I finally said, “I don’t know.”

Bobbi regarded me through red-rimmed eyes lined with ruined mascara, and I simply stared back at her, not willing to do anything to break the uncomfortable silence that permeated each passing moment.

Then Bobbi made the first move. Her hips swayed as she stepped toward me, her footsteps silent on the plush carpet beneath her. The look on her face transformed as she came closer. The quivering of her chin stilled as she adopted a sweet smile on her beautiful lips. The dimples in her cheeks made her look more like a girl-next-door rather than the Macheavellian siren she actually was. Her eyes smoldered behind that mask of puffy eyes and runny makeup.

“I know what you want,” she said. The fact that she looked like she’d just been crying surprisingly didn’t detract from the sexiness of what she was trying to do. “I know why you brought me here.”

Curious to see where she would take this, I didn’t respond.

Reaching me, she placed her hands lightly on my robed chest, her perfectly manicured fingers grazed the plush terry cloth as she looked directly up into my eyes, “You brought me here because you want me.”

sShe lowered her gaze to the V where the flaps of my robe crossed over my chest; a bit of hair peeked past the cloth. The crimson-painted nail of Bobbi’s right index finger raked through it, scratching delicately over my skin. Her eyes flitted back to mine.

“You weren’t sure how to ask me. That’s why you left me down there. I get it.” Her hand drifted lower until it found the knot of my belt. She began toying with it as she said, “So how about I ask you, Marcus?”

She leaned in closer, her lips came just below my chin as she looked up at me. Her breath smelled sweet, and her hair carried a soft scent of strawberries. “Would you like to feel my fingers wrapped around your cock, Marcus?”

Wow ... Bobbi wasted no time. Still, I refrained from responding. For the moment, I settled for enjoying the beauty of my seductress as I let her continue. However, the truth of the matter was that as much as I thought Bobbi was a human plague, I very much wanted exactly what she suggested.

“My hand is so soft, Marcus. Do you know how good it would feel for you to cum in it?” She whispered as she nuzzled her nose on my chin. “Would you forgive me if I did that for you?”

Wait ... what? Was I understanding her correctly?

Her eyes were half lidded as she looked up at me and began working the knot on my belt loose. It fell away, and the fabric of my robe opened to reveal my nudity underneath. My cock was standing at full hardness and jutted out from the opening of the robe, clearly wanting to come out and play. Bobbi’s hand immediately found it, and her cool fingers wrapped around the girth of my warm dick. She slid the robe off the right side of my shoulder with her free hand, and did the same with the other. The terry cloth pooled on the floor just behind me, leaving me naked for her gaze.

“I’m sorry about before ... in the restaurant. I know I can be a bit of a brat and a lot to handle sometimes.” Her grey eyes wandered my frame as she continued, “But I want you to know that despite my actions, I’ve always known you’ve had a soft spot for me. I guess I’ve had a bit of a thing for you too.” She placed a hand on my chest once again, allowing her fingernails to graze over my skin while her other hand was busy with my cock. I felt her fingers give it a light squeeze before loosening their grasp so they could lightly run up and down the length. “Letting me get you off ... you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Enough to maybe forget about some of the naughty things I’ve done?”

It was difficult not to be in total shock. Her change in demeanor alone was enough to throw me off, but was she suggesting that I forgive all her crimes for a fucking handjob? Setting aside the stress and frustration she caused me and others at Marduke, she was on the hook for $100,000, and that didn’t even begin to address the debt I’d bought. Did she seriously believe that a handjob from her was worth all that?

“You want to lay back?” Bobbi asked, giving me a sickly sweet smile. “Just let me do all the work while you enjoy yourself.”

I did as she suggested and walked over to the bed to sit down on the edge. Bobbi came with me, kneeling between my legs and looking up at me through makeup-smudged eyes. “There we go,” she said as she carefully wrapped her fingers around my hard cock.

She began stroking it slowly, and on the third stroke, she slid her fingers over the head of my cock where precum had started to accumulate. She used it to coat the entire tip before continuing to stroke, her grip tightening around the tip of my dick where I was most sensitive before running her hand back down my shaft. My traitorous cock throbbed with need. There was no doubt about it - judging by her talent, Bobbi Nanford had done this before. She knew how to make male genitals feel good, and while I was used to getting blowjobs and actual sex from people like Jessica and Helen, it still felt amazing. The fact that she hated my guts only made the experience hotter.

I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Bobbi. Where was the complete bitch who had made every day at work a living nightmare? Where was the spoiled brat had made a scene downstairs? Who was this ravishing creature who spoke with a silky voice and honeyed words? I searched her eyes and couldn’t find a hint of deception or hatred. Was she just that good of an actor? Shouldn’t this be a red flag that she was completely insane?

“Bobbi, why are you doing this?”

I saw a momentary flash of something in her eyes to remind me of who she was, but it was gone in a moment, replaced again by the seductress. She grazed a perfectly manicured nail lightly along the underside of my fully-hard cock as she looked up at me and tilted her head to the side, “Obviously, because this is what you want, Marcus. I do this for you, and all is forgiven, right?”

Old Marcus might have let her get away with it, but I was no longer that guy who would have been grateful to get a handjob from someone as beautiful as Bobbi. Now, I was fucking women like Helen. This was nothing.

I narrowed my eyes. “Bobbi, you don’t think giving me one sad handjob is going to make up for everything, do you?”

Her stroking slowed and she looked at me with apparent confusion, “Why not?”

I grabbed her wrist in one hand and pried her fingers off my cock, not sure I wanted them there after what I was about to say. “Because there’s no handjob in the world worth that!”

She glanced at my cock, then back up at me. “Okay then,” she said as she slowly stood up straight. “What will it take?” Her tone had shifted from sweet to flat and transactional; that seductive demeanor evaporated in an instant.

I let go of her wrist and stood up along with her, not giving her the chance to look down on me. “I don’t know. A hell of a lot more than you have to give.”

She stared up at me in utter silence, jaw set and eyes aflame. Then she literally snarled at me.

“Fine! Then fuck you, Marcus! Go to fucking hell! I hope you get cancer and die!” She punched me in the chest as hard as she could, and then reared back to do it again. “I hope you give your mom aids, you piece of fucking shit!”

And there it was. The tone I was used to hearing in her voice ... the cutting words ... the insults. As I suspected, she wasn’t learning a lesson. She wasn’t changing. She was still the same Bobbi Nanford that I’d known for nearly a year.

Only this time, I didn’t have to put up with it.

I caught her wrist in my hand to keep her from hitting me again, grabbed her by her hair, and yanked her toward me. She toppled forward, thrown off balance by the swing of her fist, and I used the momentum to twist and drive her face-first into the bed, shoving her face into the mattress as I kept a firm grip on the back of her head. I let go of her wrist, grabbed the hem of her dress, and dragged it over her thighs and ass to expose them to my view.

I already knew Bobbi’s ass was small and tight. It wasn’t hard to guess judging by how she looked in those skirts she always wore around the office, but seeing the bare flesh of her small, rounded cheeks was a completely different matter. They were twin globes of milky white flesh parted by a lacy, black thong running between them. Her pale thighs were currently spread as she flailed her legs, trying to break free of the hold I had on her, but it had the benefit of allowing me to clearly see the thin scrap of lacy, black fabric covering the puffy mound of her pussy. I was tempted to grab her thong and yank it upward to see how far that fabric would dig into her cunt before it actually snapped, but there was something else I wanted to do first. It was something I’d imagined countless times over the past year.

I unceremoniously raised my hand and brought it down. A loud crack accompanied the blow of my palm on her right ass cheek, and an angry red welt began to materialize, marring the lovely skin of her perky, white butt. I raised my hand and brought it down on her ass again, leaving another patch of angry, red skin where I struck.

Bobbi screamed into the mattress and twisted violently under my grasp. She managed to roll her head to the side, freeing her mouth. “Ow! What the fuck!?”

Another blow on her ass followed; she squealed and reached back to try to block my hand with her own. I grabbed one arm, pulled it to the side, and used a knee to pin it to the bed. That freed me to grab her other arm and pin it to the bed, keeping her ass unobstructed so I could continue assaulting it. I proceeded with several more blows, and each one was rewarded by a bellow of outrage from Bobbi.

“You’re never-” SLAP. “Going-” SLAP. “To mistreat-” SLAP. “Anyone-” SLAP. “Again!” SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

My hand was starting to sting from the repeated blows on Bobbi’s ass, but I barely registered it as I continued to deliver spankings. I was too invested in what I was doing to care about her attempts to kick my shin. She was positioned so badly that the blows were largely ineffective anyway

She screamed again, her face as red as her ass as I continued to rain blows on it. I was starting to worry that she would attract someone’s attention, but it was unlikely. This was the most expensive suite in the entire hotel, with rooms I hadn’t even bothered to explore yet. I hadn’t seen any other doors to any other rooms, and was pretty confident that no one beneath us could hear a damn thing. Even if someone did come, what was stopping me from just paying them to go away? It had worked earlier with Andrew.

“FUCK YOU!” She screamed back at me, trying to wrench herself free from my grasp.

I stopped spanking her and released my hold on both her arms as I rolled her on her back, and leaned in close. “Fuck me? Fuck you, bitch!”

She started pummeling my chest with her fists and I kept trying to bat them out of the way, finally grasping both and pinning them both to the bed so that I now hovered over her. She still struggled, and when that proved fruitless, she screamed again and tried to snap at my face, her teeth clicking as they brushed my nose.

“What are you going to do now, huh? Are you going to fuck me?” She said through a clenched jaw. “I’m going to tell everyone you raped me! I’ll show them the bruises! I’ll get your ass thrown in jail. I’ll fucking sue you for all-”

I slapped her across the face, which cut the rest of her tirade short. She looked up at me with big, beautiful eyes wide with shock. That was quickly replaced by even more rage.

My own shock lasted longer than hers. Before today, I’d never hit a woman in my life.

“You feel like a big man, hitting a woman?” she hissed at me through gritted teeth. Even her loud, shallow breathing sounded enraged.

I already felt bad for slapping her across the face. Hearing her say things like that only made it worse, so I did the only thing I could think to do ... the only thing I really wanted to do, at that moment. I grabbed her by the throat, and positioned my hand just under her jawline. Her eyes went wide again and her angry breathing became raspy; she raised her chin, and even through her shock, she still managed to stare at me in utter defiance. She opened her mouth to say something else and I crushed my lips on hers just to shut her the fuck up.

I kept my tongue in my mouth, sure that if I attempted to invade hers, she would snap it right off. As soon as I sealed my lips on hers, I could hear her breathing become louder as she inhaled and exhaled through her nose, and her single free hand began beating on my back.

But at the same time, her mouth began moving against mine as she began kissing me back. I didn’t feel a tongue, but her lips moved harshly against mine, attempting to bruise them with their ferocity. The kiss began to morph into something else ... more of a mutual dance of defiance and hatred. I felt her teeth graze against my bottom lip, trying to capture it between hers, and despite how turned on I was at the moment, I pulled back to prevent her from actually sinking her incisors into my flesh. When it was obvious she’d she’d failed, Bobbi spit at me, and I felt warm saliva coat my cheek.

“Fuck you,” she said again.

“Fuck you,” I snarled back.

Then she raised her head to meet mine in another bruising kiss, only this time her tongue speared into my mouth in search of mine, and attempted to treat it with the same intensity her lips had treated mine. Sahe wrapped her legs around mine and began thrusting her crotch into mine. Her fist had stopped trying to strike me and instead slid up to the back of my head, where she held a fistful of my hair in one hand and kept a tight, painful grasp on it. As her grip tightened, so did the hold I had on her throat.

When I heard her squeal into my mouth, I loosened my grip on her throat, afraid that I might actually suffocate her. She pulled her mouth off mine and coughed into my face between mouthfuls of oxygen. Then she let go of my hair and struck me in the face with an open palm.

“See how you like it!”

“Fuck you, Bobbi!” I yelled at her and slapped her back.

She grunted with the force of the blow and said, “What are you waiting for, cocksucker?”

I shoved her so that she slid up the bed, allowing me room to get my full body on the mattress with her. The movement pulled her legs free from around my waist, and now that there was space between our bodies, I used the opportunity to grab the lacy black dental floss barely covering her groin. With a single yank, I ripped them off her. With her dress bunched around her waist, she was now nude from the waist down. Her entire crotch glistened with arousal; her mons and vulva were a bit more prominent than Jessica’s or Helen’s, making her entire pussy look more pronounced and puffy. Her outer lips were swollen, and the inner lips of her pussy were already parted, the inside glistening and an angry shade of red that was on brand with everything else about Bobbi.

Bobbi started to scoot away from me, and I clamped a hand on her thigh and quickly moved up her body so that I was face to face with her again. I gripped her jaw in one hand and forced her to look directly at me, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

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