A glimpse of a figure outside her window was all she needed, a guest rushing by, embarrassed at what he saw making him move quicker. She came, came like only Bill could make her do, her pussy flooded with her juices, running down between her cheeks of her ass to soak the bed beneath her, Bill vibrating inside her as she clenched on and off the thundering cock that extracted such pleasure from her body.
She pulled the vibrator from her pussy, exhausted from her orgasm that had shaken her body, her body glistening with a coat of sweat, her breasts rising and falling on her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Bill lay at her side, his batteries dead, his lust drained from its insides. "Why do you take me so hard?" How come your brutality makes me cum so hard?" She quickly dozed off, naked and exposed on the bed.
Lyn stood in her luxurious motel room overlooking the coastline. . She had been the President of Lewis Companies for over a year after an intense struggle for five years of moving up the ranks of the company., She had been Vice President of Finance for two years before finally achieving the goal she had so long desired, the President of a major corporation. She had to fight the prejudices, the glass ceiling, the stares of men that thought she slept her way to the top, but she had finally succeeded where few women had before.
The job had been everything she had thought it would be and more, challenging, stimulating and exceedingly overpowering her life. This is what she was contemplating now, her personal life, or a better choice of words would be the lack of personal life. The job had become ever consuming that there was little left for a personal life.
At thirty-five, Lyn still kept her looks and shape. Her blonde hair framed her tanned face, San Diego the city of perpetual sun, her green eyes that seemed to reflect that she knew something you didn't, her flawless complexion that needed little make-up and the countless hours of exercise along with a healthy diet kept her in top physical shape for her demanding job. She had little time for men other than work, not even sure what she was looking for any longer. The powerful men that would attract her were usually too old and the younger men lacked the power to handle a woman like herself, they seemed too weak, more willing to try to please her then control her. There she said it, control her. While a powerful figure at work, she was always overpowering, able to make men do whatever she wanted. That was what made her successful, but that is also what made most men undesirable to her. They wanted to please her. She wanted a man who wanted her to please him. Could that really be what she wanted? This is the first time that she actually said it aloud.
The trip was lackluster so far, business meetings with the contractors and the local partner, a trip to the site to check their progress, a business dinner and finally it was Friday night, work finished, her plane not leaving until Sunday afternoon. She got up from the bed to take a shower, putting a fresh set of batteries in Bill before she put him away, not wanting to reach for him and finding him unable to perform. She had arranged a local escort for her tonight, knowing better then to go out alone. Haiti was a male dominant society, women second-class citizens relegated to serving the men. Even her business position would have no effect on the men once the workday was over. She had got on the internet before she left, searching for everything she could learn about Haiti before she left, especially the seedier side of the country. In Haiti, she was relatively unknown and wouldn't be under the public eye. She was hoping to see some of the more perverse side of this culture.
She dressed carefully, a short black skirt that clung to her ass. A white blouse, buttons down the front, low cut leaving a generous expanse of cleavage showing, a white lace bra pushing her breasts up. She wore four inch heels, leather straps keeping them snug around her ankles, aptly named "fuck me heels". Underneath she was dressed to impress. A pair of low cut black panties clung to her hips, barely covering her patch, the material drawn tightly over her cheeks, her crack highlighted to perfection. The bra was a white, almost transparent material, her brown areolas visible underneath it, cut generously to show the maximum amount of cleavage, thrusting her breasts up high. But the best part was the stockings she wore. Black silk stockings, the black crease running up the back, the tops snuggled tightly into the black garter belt that clung to her thighs. She looked at herself in the mirror before she put on the skirt and blouse and whistled at her own reflection. "Bill loves that sexy body," she said as she turned to show off her nice buns. "I'll have to be careful or Bill will want to fuck me in the ass again." She laughed as she talked to herself.
She glanced at the clock, almost eight. She had already had dinner, room service bringing it up before she got dressed. She didn't want to waste the whole night on food, having other ideas of what she wanted to see. Her escort was to meet her in the bar downstairs at 8:15, Lyn finishing dressing, dabbing on some lovely perfume, making sure that a dab was behind her knees, hoping that the night would be a truly wonderful experience.
The bar was mostly empty, but all the male eyes were on her as her heels clicked across the floor, the whoosh of her thighs rubbing together as the stockings rubbed back and forth. She could already feel her panties getting moist as they stared at her, none of them ever getting to her face, most trained on her ass and legs, the short skirt providing the maximum exposure. She instinctively knew it was him, the dark stranger sitting at the end of the bar.
"Miguel?" She looked into his eyes, jet black knowing eyes that ran up and down her body as she stood before him.
"Yes, good evening Lyn. You are much more beautiful then I could even imagine. Would you like a quick drink while we discuss what you want to do tonight?
He looked to be about five-ten, dark black hair, about mid-forties. He was a mulatto, a mixture of French and Haitian. His skin was brown in contrast to the black skinned pure Haitians, with many European facial features. He was in great shape, his body fitting snuggling in the expensive slacks and pullover top he was wearing. His face was covered with a perpetual five o'clock shadow highlighting the somewhat rugged features of his face. His eyes seemed to burn through her as if he could see through her clothes, making her turn red in embarrassment as she imagined she was standing naked in front of him while he gazed up and down her body as he examined her.
"Thank you, I would love a drink. You pick it, something Haitian. And thank you for the compliment." She didn't comment back to him on his appearance, not sure if you were suppose to compliment escorts, this being something new to her. She sat down on the stool, her skirt riding up high on her legs, Miguel's eyes glued to them as she sat down. She didn't even try to pull her skirt down, a pointless task,task; the skirt was short for a reason, to show off her lovely legs to their advantage.
Miguel nodded to the bartender, a chilled glass in front of Lyn in a matter of minutes. She picked it up, the strong taste of rum permeating it, a blend of fruits mixed with it. It went down smoothly, almost too smooth, the cold liquid feeling as if her throat was frozen. "Very good," not bothering to ask what it was.
"What is your pleasure tonight Lyn?" Miguel knew very little of Lyn, only that she paid dearly for his company with no limit as to time. He could tell she was not married, no ring or the apparent no tan line on her ring finger reflecting her marital status. She could get almost anyone with a body like hers, so she must be important or famous and wanting something more than the normal tour of Haiti's night life. He had seen many like this, visiting a strange new country, wanting to see things that they could only imagine back in the cozy life in America. Well, she had come to the right place, Miguel well-versed in the alternative lifestyles of Haitians. He had only to ascertain her desires.
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