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There is a gag in the submissive's mouth, and the firm ropes and tight leathered straps; holds her body in an certain position, on top of the bed. This is their third time doing this, and every session seems to be better than the last. So far, the butt-plug, whips, paddles are the only toys Normani has used on her. It's light, and heavy at the same time; the mood of the sessions.
The shredded-strap whip slap across her ass one last time before Normani's hand grope her redden flesh.
"Look at daddy's whore," she teasingly mock with a crooked smile; letting her pointing finger roam over her fresh wound. "Waiting for me to take you on."
Becoming bored with the teasing, she climbed behind the trembling cuban from the edge of the bed, placing her gentle hands on her backside; lightly stroking it.
Peeling her clothes away, she scooted close to her, then slid into her with ease; releasing a low groan, "...fuck," she lisps with a soft cry, while Lauren's back dips down a little more as an reaction; sighing out against the black-balled gag. Her fingers seizes tightly on her hips as she steadily rocks her own hips into her. The cuban's juices lather all around her shaft, as she plunges in and out.
The ball vibrates against her mouth from producing her own sliced whimpers; fisting her digits as hard as she can. Straining on her crooked high-ponytail, she used that to pull some of her weight back. With that, Lauren sputters out a groan, clenching her eyes close, while using a little strength to tighten her hold on the business woman's shaft. "You're a filthy little girl," she pester, the pace of her stroking decreasing; nice, slow, and brutally hard. "You would look so gorgeous with my cum on your face..."
Lauren sighs in a whine, feeling the other woman pull away from her. Four fingers slid into her drench and beaten cunt, immediately getting to work, as her free hand stroke her thumping shaft. Internally, she grunts at the feeling of her slut's walls closing in on her lanky digits. "Shit-I'm close," she greatly pants, adjusting her body in front of the tied-up cuban's face; still pumping herself. It wasn't long until Lauren squirted all over her hand, and Normani's cum shooting in her face; landing on her damped hair, and pretty long lashes. Mighty dark chocolate eyes, which is hidden under natural eyelashes, latch onto lustful and worn-out green eyes.
Withdrawing every item that was fastened on her body, she carried them over towards her cleaning hamper by the door. "I'll let you sleep," she tells a drowsy Lauren, "Then I'll take you home." The cuban swallows in the disappointment, hearing Harry's faded voice in the back of her head. Once the room turned into a darker shade of black, she gives permission to the slumber that was overtaking her.
_
Lauren nearly fallen on her behind after accidentally hearing her boss say: I love you, into the phone in her conference room. Lauren watches her lips move some more until she had enough, and burst into the room; domestically downplaying the gathering attention she absolutely sought and worshipped. "Good afternoon, you have a schedule meeting with Def Jam at one, and another one at two-forty five with Vogue; they really want and need you on the cover. The last one of the day is with your mother actually," Lauren caught a breather, but once seeking into those cinnamon eyes; the air in her lungs evaporated, "She wants to have an discussion about the new designs for the restaurant."
"Well done, my lady," her pockets sucked in her hands. In Lauren defense, it appears that her boss has some imaginary input vacuum in her pockets. "Now, we are off to lunch." Almost immediately, she grips her phone and calls Jeremiah; which the man answers in an heart beat. "Meet me out front, neow!"
Jeez...
Within Lauren's view, she calmly watch as her boss put away her phone, attempting to intake a breath silently; only for her to detect and know. Soon, Normani caught on quickly, "If you don't mind I have a question..."
"I do," she simply drags out with an direct boredom in her voice. Then she looks at Lauren to continue.
"How come we eat lunch together?" Brown eyes shot at her way, and Lauren could feel this hold slowly rising around her neck. Withdrawing her brown eyes just as brief as they landed on her, her left hand ran over her lips and chin. Her whole posture appears to be...tight.
It takes a while before her chest deflates, and she asks, "Do you not like eating lunch...with me?" The look in her eyes is enough to make Lauren sweat.
"No, that's...not, I-"
"-I eat lunch with you because I..." she tilted her head; looking her square in the eyes. The words are stuck in the back of Normani's throat as she tries her best to explain to Lauren that...that she enjoys her company.
The only time she had to "express" herself, was to get into the females pants. And as you can see, the only emotions she ever use was lust. In this case, she already got the draws, the pants-whatever she needs. She just can't understand why she's putting her best effort in trying to explain that...that she likes her company.
"The company you give me...I adore it," the grave tone in her voice is strong compared to how she really feel.
Lauren wasn't expecting this. No, she wasn't expecting this at all. This difficult woman who decided to share her feelings, or rather; just gave her an honest answer. Either way, she didn't have to. She could have gave her hell, and given her a spiteful response.
But she didn't.
"Jeremiah is waiting," she straighten up, and marched towards Lauren; and as she does, she says, "And if you don't want to eat lunch with me-"
"I-I do, I just wanted to know." Lauren rapidly blinks, as she thickly swallows, "I was just curious."
Halting right in front of the door, the brown-skinned woman fluently replies, "Curiosity does kill the cat."
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ᴸᴬᵁᴿᴱᴺ
"So what made you come to New Orleans?" the brown woman questioned; spiking up conversation from the dead. I glance at her side-profile. Right when I felt like she would even twist her head at the slightest, I nearly broke my neck whipping it back forward. I'm sure she took notice of my movements and habit fidgeting. I clear my already bare throat.
"Oh, Miss Hamilton...I thought you knew everything about me," I smile teasingly, my eyes displayed on my fingers in my lap. "Isn't that what you said?" I queried, leaning my voice into an sensual tone; hoping it would somehow shift the mood, or change the conversation.
Normani snorts, then chuckle; taking that she's amuse at the sassy girl, but it's clear, she's hiding something.
"I did, didn't I..." she said more than asked. "But I feel that if you tell me...I'll feel less more of a creep." I sigh to myself, my brain already making a ruckus. I seek not to avoid her eyes too much, but I don't want to stare at them either. Not at the moment. When I sigh again, it shakes while under my eyes begin to swell.
A warm hand touch my thigh, and the calm and almost sympathetic voice said, "Take your time." Just the feel of her touch makes me want to cuddle against her like a cat.
Looking out the side of my peripheral vision, I see her head is straightforward. It is like she doesn't want any emotional connection.
Or just any connection, at all.
Swallowing my tears, I started with, "I was talking to her on phone...when she was shot." I inhaled deeply.
"Who?" I felt her eyes present on me now. I'm feeding off the concern tone in her voice, and tries to stay put, strong, or even brave. The imagination of how it went flashes in my head while I stare down the window.
"My abuela," I pause to think, "She was shot down in a robbery. All because she was..." I bite my lip as hard as I can to distract my tears, and focus on the pain in my lip-but its feels numb, "-taking a little too long to get to her fucking purse. It slipped out of her hands from being shocked-afraid." The car bumps whilst there is nothing but an lost for words silence. Blinking, pictures of her smiling install in my head.
"I miss her so fucking much." The next thing I knew, I was being pulled by my arm with quickness. My head's laying across her wide and full chest and her arms are wrapped around me torso tightly-nice and so secure. I feel like nothing horrible can happen to me now.
"...at least she is in a better place," she spoke so soft, I almost couldn't hear her. Or recognize her voice.
"That's...th-that's why I fled here," I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I tried it again, "I couldn't bare being there alone. At home...without her. I wanted to be somewhere, where I knew no one."
I feel her shift underneath me, "That isn't safe at all."
"Are you scolding me while I'm grieving?"
She swiftly chuckles, "Call it whatever you want, but it was a stupid...and bold move. Where are your parents? Do you have any siblings?"
"-you're being very nosy, Ms. Hamilton." I hear a scoff, and giggle through my tears. Her hand came into view blocking my eyes; only to wipe the stuck tears on the right side of my face.
Grasping her wrist before it disappears, I examined her hand; the curvy lines, the swirly prints engrave on each of her fingers. I checked her nails, fell in love with the pinky ring blinging out my eyes. I close my eyes. Then I press her hand back on my cheek. I guide them over my lips, nose, eyebrows-everything that is attached on my face. I wanted her to feel how beautiful I was.
Instead of base off of her eyes.
For fuck's sake, I want her to feel what I feel.
"I lied," she abruptly admitted. I frown just a little, "I said I knew everything about you, I didn't. I just didn't know that." I laid there on her chest, perplex.
"But how can you know me from a research-"
"What high school you went to, where you came from. Your abandoned social media's accounts," she spoke all in one, long breath; her voice tranquil taking first place in being a know-at-all. "Yeah...I did it, but not without some help. The rest of the unknown was right on your pretty little resume." Should I call the cops?
Not only did she mock as an know-it-all, her tone of voice appears to be uptight. It makes me wonder...
What could make her...slightly uncomfortable.
"My old social media's account," I try to come off as normal; attempting to proceed this conversation. "I forgot all about those accounts. I haven't used it over the past year use before my abuela died-"
"Who was that guy on there?" she asked quick, but I could detect that she didn't want it to be that direct.
As if she cared, or something.
I choke back my laughs, and strained my forming lips, "I'm guessing he is a blonde, right?" I get no response.
I can't even hear her the slight crisp of her breathing and I'm laying on her; still holding onto her fingers. "I'm sure he is since he is the only guy I went out with, posted on my account. His name is Nicholas, but I called him Nic. He was sweet, charming, caring...he was actually my first." The muscle in her chest press up on my back; signaling a lot of intake of breath, and the wind from her releasing and troubling sigh, brush over my hair.
I heard her gulp; similar to mines-the feeling that I am feeling tastes, amazing yet risky. Then I felt her twitch. "Well done, Lauren...well done." Jealously is a bitch...
"You me uncomfortable, now what?"
"I know one of your weaknesses. I wouldn't be so sharp with me, Ms. Hamilton." I told her, meaning business.
"Weaknesses?!" she laughs out, shrieking just a little with her eyes wide to a degree, as if that is the most absurd thing she heard all day. "With an S added on...I never took you to be the comedic type, little one."
"One is enough darling, I can assure you," she added in her usual voice, using the hand I had grip on to give me short and light, harsh caresses on my head. Seeming to be some kind of animal, enjoying her pets. "We could talk about yours."
I pop up, "What about mines?"
"-In the sex room," she pointed out, "You're still up for training." Right. I gaze back at her fresh, coffee eyes, as I slowly blink and nod. "Tonight, we could prepare-"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Ms. Hamilton. But it's my turn to clean the house-and in my roommates words: I haven't been doing a good job at all."
"I am not too fond of your living position. Am I not paying you enough?"
"You are paying me wonders, it's just..." I trail off, then later sigh; slumping my shoulder. "I am saving most of it. For when this contract ends. I can have something to lean back on. My abuela didn't leave much, but she left me enough."
The intercom beeps right after my confession, and as she has her moment of truth; she looks disappointed. Her neatly, thick eyebrows are weighing down heavy, and her brown eyes are staring back at my soul, it feels like. It's betrayal I am reading off of her face. The top of her lips curls as the light and joyful voice interrupts the silence. I can hear the smile, living in his voice. He says, "We have reach your destination, Ms. Hamilton."
"Thank you, Jeremiah," she says after pressing the tiny red button on the side of the limousine, "Come open my door, please." She ordered.
"Yes, sir!" he playfully countered, then hopped out the driver's seat, as I hold my giggles in; my hand covered over my mouth at the face she pulled.
_
I couldn't really get through lunch in peace and quiet with my phone going off every five seconds. Harry, it kept flashing and buzzing. I hate to be rude but, "Yes Harry...is there something you need?" I ask as calm as possible with Ms. Hamilton's eyes already hammering me down. Dark cinnamon eyes stares at me. There it goes. Those tingles of warmth scatters my body-
"Are you hearing me?! I said the men in black are here and is taking all of your things-including mines!" I can see him standing by the door, shrieking into the speaker with his strong hand; with a tight grasp around the phone.
I froze, unable to fumble a single word. A frown slowly start to appear on my face, "I-I...I don't know why. Is there anything you can do to stop them?"
Harry chuckle humorlessly, then says, "I tried but one of them fucking flip me over like a worthless coin. And she is a female, Lauren. A female."
Ms. Hamilton caught on to my frustration, setting her spoon down next to the butter knife; slightly fixing it to be pointing straight ahead. She quietly inhaled as I wait for her to give me a solution, "Do you need a ride home?" A ride home? Well, fucking, duh!
"Well, I can't walk home, Ms. Hamilton."
I was very embarrassed as she toss a hundred-dollar bill on the small, round table, then stood up all mighty and tall. Harry was still panicking on the phone; saying my name over and over again. "Don't be so embarrass. Shit happens, little one."
"I'm on the way, Harry." I then hung up the phone. All the way home, I kept thinking on why my things were being removed. Doesn't the people give you a letter or, a fucking foreclosure or something? I wouldn't know a damn thing, I've never experienced anything like this.
And shit! Lunch is almost over, and I have a bunch of work to finish.
The limousine came to a final stop, and my ears got use to hearing the beep, "We're here, Ms. Hamilton."
"I'll-"
"You can stay in the car," I ordered her, not caring how bossy I came off, "Its not like you're going to help..." I murmured to myself, my legs already having a mind of their own; climbing out of the car. Jeremiah eyes went wide then attempt to pick up his pace. By the time he arrived at my door, it was being shut; as my body turn the curve of the car, stepping on the sidewalk.
I saw three guys carrying my sofa.
I rush towards the elevator, immediately pressing on the button number three with trembling fingers.
Being so trapped in my mind-which, I haven't done in a while, I hear her voice, "Is there room for two?"
"Yeah," I replied just as she take a step forward, letting the metal doors slowly close behind her. She goes over to the other side of this raggedy, metal box, and sent a smile over her shoulder. I leant my head to the side to avoid eye-contact, and felt my cheeks flex. I can't ever stay upset for a long period of time.
Pathetic.
"What a weirdo," she commented under her breath. Of course, I fell into her trap. I step back, astonish.
"Are you calling me a weirdo?"
She nods, entertained with our banter, "Yes. I smiled at you ten seconds ago, and you are still smiling. Are you planning to kill me?"
No, but I think you're trying to kill me.
The elevator came to a stop, then the door opened up; later displaying Harry standing by our door, tapping his worn-out boots, while one of the many workers carries my vintage dresser. I speed over there as soon as I can, already fixing on asking questions. "Hello, Ms. H," the man greeted causally, but I didn't stop my speeding. I stood by Harry and let my heart fall into my ass.
"What the fuck?!" I shriek; those are the only words that came into my mind, "What the fuck?!"
"Hey, Ms. Hamilton," the tanned girl with stone-cold blue eyes greeted, "Would you like for us to keep this stuff, or-"
"You can throw all of this out," she orders, "However their clothes should be at the condo," she told her.
The british-citizen and I shared an confuse look, "Oh, Rondo got that covered for you ma'am." She nods, and then glance at Harry. Harry posture became anxious.
"Great, great," she mutters, "Hey, you're that guy that audition for me two years ago?" Okay, what? Harry can sing?...
"You two know each other?" I queried, but it went in one ear and out the other, as Harry flash some sort of smile; lightly scratching his left forearm. The workers continue their jobs, removing our things. That phone call she did before she joined me for lunch. It was such a quick call, I didn't think nothing of it.
"Harry," she smiles, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"...Ms. Hamilton," he says back as a soft chuckle; his vibrant green eyes fumbling elsewhere. I tilt my head.
"It's great to see you again. You're a friend of Lauren?"
"Yes, I would like to think so."
I scoff in disbelief, then blink, "Harry! Of course you are. Why would you think otherwise?"
Ms. Hamilton chimes back in, removing her hand from his shoulder; still noticing the discomfort, "Well, how about we schedule an audition-"
"I kind of fled that scene the day I got denied."
"Harry, one more shot wouldn't hurt."
"...okay."
_
This apartment is magnificent; I mean, I wouldn't even dream to have a place like this because I knew I would never get to this in life. Being this successful. She was right, our clothes are already in our new, more modern dressers. Not a fucking dust in place. "And this...is the remote to the fireplace."
My mind wasn't so soaked about the fireplace, the way the door looked is still refreshed in my mind. "We will be living here-"
"Yes-"
"-Until my contract is up?" Harry made his way to his job twenty minutes ago. I would have to display and explain everything to him later since I didn't want him to be late. He smiles his charming smile then left. Now we've come to this...and I need to think about this.
The remote touched the table and she turned towards me, "The woman's I have had affairs with...were stable enough to own their own home. Of course they were woman's twenty-five and up."
I continue to look at her, "I was stable."
"No you weren't," she chuckles with the shake of her head; so quick to disagree.
"Maybe not to you, but I count myself as stable. I have a job, I had an-" I pause since my situation was kind of complicated to explain, "-well, have an apartment until I moved here. I did good."
"You can stay here even when the contract is up. But it'll be hard to keep it up with the jobs both of you's have. This condo half of a million dollars."
I grind my teeth together; feeling set up, and yes, even disappointed, "Well keep it to yourself. What was the point in moving us here, if we're going to be put out a couple of fucking months-"
"I care about your well being," she answers smoothly; her lit brown eyes focus on the fireplace. "That place is disgusting, Lauren. Here is better. You could've robbed, someone could've broken in while you were there-"
I sigh and turn around, "I have nothing worthy of being stolen, Ms. Hamilton."
She frowns deeply, twisting her body as well, "Maybe, but you also could've been killed-"
"And you're right," I agree, nodding my head, "Thank you. I really appreciate you helping me. Why are you being so nice...and caring all of the sudden?"
"In the contract, I am to provide things such as this, for my submissive. With you staying with Harry, and actually like staying there, I didn't know when to step in. So I made a little phone call earlier before lunch."
I then asked, "Was Harry so-called apart of the contract?"
"What do you mean?"
"Giving him another chance to audition," I say, "Was he apart of the contract? Or was that to impress me cause of last significant other; being caring and stuff? Do you even remember Harry?..."
"To impress you?...Lauren-"
"If you want me to follow the rules then you should follow them, too." I gradually stood up, watching the machines churn in her head, "I get all happy when we go to lunch together. It's just us, no one else. My heart flutters at attention like that, Ms. Hamilton."
"Lauren-"
"Wanting to get to know me, always popping up in my office to make sure I'm okay. Every ten minutes. Then Harry; be nice to him, smile, and here comes my fault, I fall for everything. That smile, the kindness. You are one-hundred percent right Ms. Hamilton. We're only here for pleasure, and pleasure only. So just don't act like you care..." I continue my stare on with the big, glass window, watching the sun set into place.
"Laur-"
"Goodnight, Ms. Hamilton." Before she could get my name out her mouth again, I repeated: "...Goodnight, Ms. Hamilton. And thank you, again? for all that you' have done this evening. I really appreciate it."
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