The Orphan in Blac

I am a young stockbroker and I been working for few months in a new brokerage firm. The work is very much routine, and in the last year, I have noticed the market almost in a continuous downward spiral, this alone makes the job very stressful, protecting clients from losing too much money. Even so, I am well-paid, being I a beginner. Not having many friends in the great city, and much less, in the financial district, I go only from my apartment to my work, early in the mornings, and return home at dusk. Since the time in which the markets make transactions is very limited, there is not much overtime work, except when I take orders for transactions in foreign markets, and sometimes, the procedure is even stranger: I return home at the usual time, but I have to wake up in the middle of the night in order to go to the office and work in front of the computers long before dawn.

While walking on the streets of the city, I see all kinds of people, and I don't pay much attention to them, but little by little, I get accustomed to some faces and garbs, but not finding anything in common with them, I let them get lost in the sea of people.

One Tuesday morning, a few blocks from my office, I see a very pretty young woman pass by me, blond and of fair-skinned, dressed as an executive with a high-fashion style, in which black dominates, as if she were in mourning. She looked like a top model, although she is not so tall. She smiled when passing near me, and I don't assume that she meant that smile for me. But the next day, we crossed paths again and she smiles at me again. This is already too much coincidence, but nothing else. On Thursday, not only I see her passing as usual, but during the afternoon, when most of the markets have closed and we only have to follow up on the clients before the day is done, I have seen her coming into my firm, and she even entered the office of a middle-aged high executive. She was there for barely twenty minutes, and she left. I avoid her gaze and she passes without noticing me; it is better this way. Other employees whisper incoherently, but they soon put their attention back to work.

On Friday, not only she finds me while coming to work, but I even see her on my way out, as if making the trip back. She even greets me:

"Hello."

This lady must be crazy! I turn around, to see if she called somebody else standing behind me, but she stops exactly in front of me and she speaks to me again:

"My name is Angie, pleased to meet you."

I should feel I flattered, but what I feel is exactly the opposite: annoyance, distrust, fear. In the big cities of the world, one suspects a deadly trap lurking when somebody comes near you within arm's length. She asked with tactful insistence:

"How are you? I see you passing by a lot."

"Who are you? What do you want...?"

"I have already told you: my name is Angie. What's yours?"

I wanted to walk away, but she directed me an incredible look: she smiled timidly, and at the same time, she frowned, her brows, exquisitely shaped and with a slightly darker color than her hair, which had highlights of that color. Her look was between cheerful and pleading, it even inspired me sincerity. I decided to answer, as a courtesy:

"I Am Andrew."

Breaking the tension between us, she extended a delicate hand for a soft handshake and she answered:

"My pleasure! Come with me, let me buy you some coffee."

We went to a delicatessen, and after having a cup, she began to make small talk:

"Have you been working for a long time?"

"Less than a year. And you?"

"No, I don't work. My father is a millionaire and I don't have to. But I already have the things for which I wish, so I no longer go shopping much, and I prefer to walk in the city. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Impressive, I would say. I believe that the museums and theaters are in another district, there should the beauty of this city be."

I didn't intend a double-entendre, but it happened.

"To those places, I already go from time to time. I do go to the theater; especially, I like the ballet. Look, I am hungry, so let's order. I'm buying."

"You shouldn't, we b..."

"I insist."

I accepted a turkey sandwich with salad and a soda. She ordered the same, but with bottled water, as giving me a lesson on healthy eating. She mentioned that she was twenty years old and I told her I was twenty-five. After finishing, she asked:

"Where do you live?"

This already seemed too much, but to walk the streets with such a beauty as her by my side convinced me and I let her come along. While we walked, I remembered and it seemed to me that I might have also seen her on Monday, perhaps before, but it was not until Tuesday that I noticed a pattern in her reappearance on these streets. I didn't dare to take her hand, but I didn't allow her to stray from my side at any moment, jealous of my "conquest." I made the silly question:

"Why do you wear black so much, are you mourning for somebody?"

"Yes. My mother, she died barely a year ago."

I felt very embarrassed, so I slowed my pace and I lowered my face. She noticed me falling behind and she turned back toward me, and she told me:

"It's all right. You didn't offend me with your question."

"But I was a fool."

It was not enough over which to cry, but I felt very bad. But she gave me that so expressive look and encouraged me to move on. But before, she went to find her car, one moderately luxurious sports car, and I gave her directions to my building. I have a parking space assigned to me, but I don't have a car, so I invited her to use it.

Upon arriving to my apartment, she left her jacket and purse on the sofa and went to the bathroom. When she came out, I told her:

"I need to take a shower."

"It's all right. I will wait for you here."

I went to the room to fetch clean clothes and I took my shower quickly. She waited in the sofa, and when I came out, she got up and she followed me to the bedroom door. She asked:

"May I come in?"

I hesitated, but not wanting to be rude, I let her in. I stood at the foot of my bed and she asked me:

"Did you have plans for tonight?"

"No."

"Good."

She came near me, and this time, I took in more of the perfume that she wore. She placed her hands on my shoulders and I felt a seductive caress. She kissed my chin and pulled my jaw a little to make me lower my face so she could reach my cheeks, and passing from side to side, stopped on my lips. She didn't wear some sleazy red lipstick, but a rosy lip gloss, that harmonized with her skin tone. She puckered up a little and she kissed my lower lip and I was hypnotized. Leaning against her like this, at least, she could not feel that my penis became erect, and even with my loose clothes, it was uncomfortable for me. She asked:

"Would you like to kiss me?"

Then I shivered and I blushed intensely. She pulled my shoulders insistently, but not with much force, she only exerted a tension that I could not ignore. I had no choice but to open my lips and let her kiss me. My lips burned with a mixture of emotions new to me, and she pushed me gently so that I sat on the bed, and so, she mounted on my thighs and she devoured my lips and tongue, taking both our breaths away. She you surrounded my neck with her delicate hands and her thumbs stroked my cheeks. Her lips settled on my forehead and she told me to embrace her, so I placed my hands around her ribs, the contact burning me. She turned her cheek against my forehead to murmur:

"Do it."

I passed my hands on her chest and I pressed my lips against her throat. I heard her gasp loudly and can imagine that she must have opened her eyes wide upon feeling such a sudden pleasure, and she exclaimed, barely in a whisper:

"Take me now."

I unbuttoned her gray blouse, which matched the rest of her black attire, and I discovered that she didn't wear a bra, for her teats were hardly A-cup. I caressed them, looking for a little flesh, and I then passed my fingertips on her areolae and nipples. She shivered and her arousal was even greater when I took a nipple, quite long, between my lips. I sucked it and she groaned, and I could even feel how her crotch irradiated heat. I pressed it ever so gently between my teeth and she trembled, fearing that I might bite it hard, but realizing that I was not going to hurt her, he encouraged me to torture her that way. I left that nipple and she gave me a disappointed look that soon changed when she received the same attention on her other side, then the groan was more like a sob, with her mouth wide open. I undid the last buttons and she rose off me so I could remove her skirt and thong, both black, after dropping her shoes on the floor. She also undressed me and she kissed my nipples almost as I did to her, and when she saw my erect penis, she wrapped it quickly with her condom and she offered her belly to me so that I would lavish more kisses upon her. I brushed my finger over her labia and she went a little rigid, but she didn't pull my hand away, getting used to such a bold caress. The heat that came from her called for more fingers inside her, and eventually, my lips on her clitoris, and her knees collapsed. I turned her so that she lay face up for me to suck her, and when my lips made contact, she raised her pelvis, demanding more. I grabbed her shapely thighs, wrapped in long black stockings without a garter belt or pantyhose, and when I licked her entire vulva, she shook with barely contained violence. Panting, she invited me to penetrate her and I don't know which one of us enjoyed that intense sensation more. I got myself inside her quickly and I tried to thrust very deep, while she held me close. She let go of me a little and she looked at me with sweetness and desire, and I stopped my sway a little in order to kiss her lips and her cheeks. She sought my tongue and intertwining them made us feel like paradise. I began moving my penis inside her and she screamed through her teeth while I felt her orgasm as mine. My ejaculation burned through me and I also screamed. When I was spent, I began to kiss her again and she kissed back desperately. Tears flowed from her eyes and the feeling got to me, and for the first time in my life, I understood what true love is. When she could no longer reach my lips, due to her exhaustion, she held on to me, and she begged:

"Don't go! Don't leave me!"

I joined my forehead with hers and I looked at her directly to her eyes and I assured her:

"I am here with you."

Her eyes, between blue and green, drove me to tears and she held my head, because she was about done weeping. After several minutes, I felt sleepy, but I didn't want her to leave, so I suggested to her that to go wash and she took off her thigh-high stockings and she went into the shower, and when she finished showering, she curled up, still naked, against my back, and while exchanging caresses, we fell asleep.

The following day, I felt her next to me in the same position, but she got up quickly, and in her expression, I saw happiness, and at the same time, anxiety; I attributed this to embarrassment of having spent the night with a stranger. She washed a little and she got dressed again, and remembering that she had come braless, she realized that there was no turning back from what she experienced with me. She nervously announced to me:

"I must go."

I didn't respond with words, but I could not hide a disappointed look which didn't escape her, because she said:

"If you want, you could come with me. Why, yes! I want you to see my house, I will even cook something special for you."

My heart sped up a little, with high hopes of sharing more time with my new friend, but I was a little embarrassed, because after all, somebody with whom I have had such passionate sex could not be only a friend. And that led me to another conflictive feeling: what would it take to truly love her? I answered myself: I don't know her enough. Then, why did I take advantage of her? Because I must be some kind of pervert...

Her beautiful crystalline voice pulled me out of my mental debate.

"What do you say, are you game? Come, we will have a good time."

Upon hearing these last words, my phallic head, not the encephalic one, made the decision for me and I consented. I got dressed, because I had not bothered doing so when I woke up, after all, we have already seen each other naked, but if saw her like that again, I would not let her get past my door...

I washed quickly and I got dressed "casual," for comfort, but with good taste, in case somebody from her family or her rich friends saw me. We went down to pick up her car, and while she drove, I asked her:

"How is it that you know my boss? Maybe you have investments in our firm?"

"My father has them in many, and also, we are acquainted with everybody."

This means the stock market and the wealthy class in general.

"What kind of a family do you have, I mean, if I may ask? It's that I don't want to make a fool of myself when I meet them."

"It's all right. I live alone with my father; I am an only daughter. He is a 'workaholic,' because in order to have so many millions, it is necessary to work a lot."

There was that uncomfortable pause, and she had to go on.

"He has made his fortune honestly and with much effort. But he has 'diversified,' and he doesn't do the same thing for too long. But he is good at what he does, and for that reason, he has had much success."

"And your mother, from what did she die? Excuse me for asking."

"I know, so you don't blurt an unwise remark. It doesn't bother me. It's just that my father neglected us a little, as always: he strove to give everything material to us, perhaps in excess, but in the affective, he might have not provided as much. Let's say that she died from sadness, because it was a sudden heart attack. It hurt us a lot, and each one of the two believes that her death affects him or me more."

Angie spoke with much ease and I explained it for three reasons: she is a woman, she must have needed to have somebody with whom to talk candidly and the one that worried me more: she was endearing herself to me, inviting me to be a part of her life. Once again the doubt, if I will be able to handle her emotional payload or the responsibility of supporting a spoiled girl, accustomed to luxuries and a high-society life in which I will never fit.

We traveled at a moderate speed because it would seem that she wanted to take her time to housebreak me or simply in order to speak her mind. But finally, we arrived to an impressive mansion, and in my business, I have seen some. There was enough automation, beyond the security in the entrances, and I noticed something out of the ordinary: she did not have maids, butlers or anyone to meet us. Anticipating my question, she explained:

"The help either quit or was dismissed, due to problems, but I assure you that it was not for a tight budget. I should recognize that both employers have been very hard to please in recent times."

Even so, her house was tidy. She gave me a brief tour and we then passed to the kitchen, almost as big as a restaurant. There she fixed a brunch, since it was past ten in the morning, with much fruit and other vegetarian dishes, but she fried me some eggs, just in case. While we ate, I finally told her a little about my life: that I was raised in the suburbs, that my better grades were in mathematics, computers and history, and that's how I became interested in the finance field, so I could satisfy my scientific curiosity while I practiced a lucrative profession, this I have not yet achieved. She looked at me in silence, only with head movements, smiles, or simply, a special look showed me that she listened to me intently. After eating, she set aside a portion for her father, who seems to be busy with his work overnight, almost as we did.

She showed me other parts of the house that I hadn't yet seen, and in an office, I recognized the type of terminal from which I monitor stock market transactions. We went by the rooms, not all, because it would take almost a week see them all. She opened the master bedroom, and she even called out to see if her father had arrived and went to sleep, but he was not there; there I saw a real mess. Finally, she arrived to her own room and there she got undressed without caring for my presence. She went to her bedside table and she took out more condoms and a cream. Then, she kissed me again, even more intimately and lustfully. She used more of her tongue and she even kissed my neck, assuming a more aggressive role. I didn't resist the invitation and I fondled her nipples shamelessly, and that excited her more. She desperately pressed her body against mine, seeking contact with my burning penis, and she even removed my pants. She leaned back on her bed and I was drawn to suckle her nipples. Now, my technique consisted of enveloping each teat with my lips, teeth and tongue. She invited me to bite them and I felt how her skin bristled when I indulged her kinky whim. Going down to her genitals, I took the opportunity to scrape my teeth inside her thighs and her vagina spurted its juices: she had one full orgasm, but she ached for more. When I wanted to stimulate her clitoris, she shook me off and she told me:

"Not there, I now want it from behind."

And she rotated, presenting her buttocks to me, kneeling face-down to the edge of her bed. I knelt down behind her and I kissed and I bit them with frenzy, but without hurting her. She groaned and swallowed hard, like catching her own breath. She handed me the cream, and she told me to ream her, so I poured it on my own fingers and I inserted them in her anus to dilate it. Once there, she exclaimed with a voice a little hoarse:

"Give me more, more, give me more, spread it around...!"

And I granted her wish. I continued to explore her sphincters, and she breathed deep to fight back a pained scream. She soon managed to relax and she said:

"Put it in me now, Andy!"

That was maddening. I sheathed my penis and I aligned it to her anus, and at first, I felt a little resistance, so I pressed slowly. Suddenly, her sphincter opened up and I was surprised that I was able to go inside almost as easily as last night in her vagina, only that her added tightness around my member produced me a pleasant heat. I began pumping, and sometimes, she contorted so that I would french-kiss her or pinch one of her nipples. When I was nearing my orgasm, she foresaw it, and she clenched or loosened her sphincters to prolong the sensation. Not having me in front of her to kiss me fully, she developed this control so that her pleasure lasted enough. Finally, she had involuntary contractions and she screamed while grabbing her sheets, pushing me definitively over the edge, and while I ejaculated, she also wet her sheets. My semen filled that condom like never before. I started shouting while she only grunted and purred. I had barely enough strength to take my inflamed penis out of her rectum, to lie kneeling on that bed. I turned my face toward her and we shared a tender kiss in sharp contrast with the animal fury that we unleashed a few moments ago. We wobbled a little standing up and she allowed me to take a shower first while she evacuated herself; when I came out, she also took a shower. I picked up my clothes and got dressed, not wanting to be discovered in such a compromising appearance, but she only put on an indigo blue "kimono"-style bathroom robe to return to the kitchen to prepare the table for her father. Finally, he arrived. She greeted him with a hug and a kiss on his cheek, in which I noticed that he had grown a one-day "shadow," a little more than I did.

"Good morning, dad! Have been you very busy? Come now, I have your lunch ready."

He had a lost look, as if he were drinking a lot the night before. He mumbled about paper work while he ate, but when he was halfway into his lunch, he began to protest because vegetarian food is boring. She replied that his doctor recommended it to him, but he remained rebellious. She displayed a submissive demeanor, but it was obvious that she was uncomfortable and embarrassed, because this drama unfolded in presence of whom she considered a good friend. He screamed: