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Paid in Full

123

Paid In Full

Her friends always said Abigail "Abbie" Fiorelli led a charmed life. Things just seemed to come to her so easily until she met Reese Underwood on a popular erotic adult website. In a very short time, she went from being a smart, independent young woman to a submissive, compliant, sexually obedient girl. By the time Abbie realized just how sexually demanding and controlling Reese was, she was already trapped in his web of manipulation and sex and she loved it.

****************

The shutters were thrown open and I sat there in front of the large window staring out into the dark, totally mesmerized by the twinkling stars that were clearly visible on this cold, crisp night. Suddenly my attention was drawn to the bright star that streaked across the night sky. I hastily made a wish, wiped the hot tears from my eyes and took a deep breath of resignation. I felt a little better. I knew what was going to happen from the moment I picked up the phone. I heard his deep, rumbling voice and I could feel my body grow warm, my clit become swollen with the slow, pleasant throbbing between my legs. New tears of remorse and anticipation trailed down my flushed cheeks and dripped onto my now damp camisole.

We hadn't seen or spoken to each other in almost a year. I had been a very young, inexperienced girl when fate and unrecognized desire had thrown Reese and me together, but I remembered all of it and now found myself yearning for everything he had shown, taught and done to me. Even now, a year later I could recall the delicious feel of his warm, moist tongue licking purposefully between my legs. The feel of his teeth sometimes rough, but often tenderly, nipping and sucking my achingly hard clit until he expertly brought me to the brink of orgasm before allowing me to cum and find the release that seemingly only he could give me.

"I don't want to see you . . . please, don't ask me to, it would be wrong Reese," I pleaded with him. "I'm married now and I love my husband. I can't hurt him like this," I protested, knowing that despite the words, I wanted Reese, needed to feel him inside me.

Ignoring my protests, he said, "I'll be there by the end of the week." The sound of the call ending echoed in my ear. I sat back and let my mind recall and revel in the memories . . .

*****

From the time I moved to New York, things just seemed to fall into place. I was admitted to graduate studies at the University, (which had prompted my move to New York in the first place), and right off, I landed a graduate internship with one of the top publishing houses in Manhattan. Thanks to help from one of my father's old friends, I lucked into a fantastic apartment in the East Village. With a little help from my parents each month, I was able to lease the apartment and moved in within a couple of weeks. It was a lovely, spacious apartment in a beautiful building, in a wonderful, friendly neighborhood.

Wow, here I was barely twenty-two years old, a great job, nice apartment, new friends, dating, clubbing, I didn't think life could get any better.

After getting settled in my new apartment, I invited a few friends over and some of us were goofing around on the internet. My best friend Tiffany Stewart introduced me to a popular on-line erotic adult website. While Tiff was a bit worldlier, I was inexperienced and still sexually innocent but with a little encouragement from her, I started posting my thoughts and comments. It was a lark, it was fun and the responses I received made me feel sooooo sexy and desirable. After just a short period on the site, I made a few friends and one or two masturbation buddies. At night when I would get home, I'd crawl into bed, log on and check to see who else was on line. Eventually one of my special friends would log in and we would spend hours talking, messaging and self-pleasuring until I was exhausted and fell asleep, my body satisfied and the cool dampness between my legs comforting in a pleasant way. It was fun and I looked forward to these sessions with both strangers and friends. Within a few weeks, I met someone on line that I enjoyed talking with and eventually came to trust. Our casual on-line relationship slowly progressed to sexting and phone sex and from there to performing for each other over Skype.

My special fiend's name was Reese McLean; he lived in Long Island and worked in Manhattan. Though he was insistent, I was hesitant to meet him in person at first, but after almost three months of putting him off I finally relented and we met one night at a little jazz club in The Village for drinks. Needless to say, after all this time of chatting, messaging, sexting and phone sex we felt as if we already knew each other and ended up having some great sex that night. He took me to a little boutique hotel in the East Village and slowly, wonderfully accepted my virginity, that I gave willingly. Reese was fifteen years my senior, well over six feet, just beginning to bald and to develop a little paunch. I must admit that the age thing bothered me at first, but after a while, as I grew to know him, our ages mattered less and less. I enjoyed his company, the things he did to me and the things he taught me to do to him.

Not surprisingly, the sex had always been good between us. Reese would come over to my place and slide down onto the sofa next to me whispering, "I'm going to make love to you Abbie." He'd stroke my hair, brushing locks of stray hair away from my face, placing his lips on my cheek and kiss me gently, a lover's warm, possessive kiss. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of his lips when he let them trail down to the cleavage of my breasts, paying attention to the warm mounds and causing me to gasp when he hungrily began to suckle my nipples. I could feel his body pressing against mine, his breath warm and uneven. He moved his hand down between my legs, and though it was obvious that I was very wet for him, I would make a halfhearted attempt to push his hand away. "You want this Abbie, don't you? It's ok if you do, just tell me. Do you want me to make love to you, Abbie?"

"Yes, I want you to," I replied in a whispery voice as my hips hesitantly arched upwards making is possible for my clit to rub against his hand.

"I want you to lay down on the floor," Reese instructed. My head was buzzing and my heart beating so hard I thought I could hear it. I stretched out on my back on the thick, soft carpet. I looked up at Reese, my lustfulness freed and barely concealed. I wanted him. Reese lowered his body and covering me, pressed my knees up and let my legs rest on his shoulders. In that position fully exposed and accessible to him, he slipped his engorged dick inside me. There was no rush, no hurry just Reese taking his time fucking me thoroughly. I could hear him begin to groan with pleasure when I put my arms about his neck and let my hips fall into rhythm with his, aggressively fucking him back, softly murmuring his name "Reese . . . Reese." When he finally brought me to orgasm, I clung desperately to him, not wanting him to withdraw.

We lay there for a long time afterwards. "Sleep baby, go to sleep," he said in barely audible voice. Reese spooned behind me and I snuggled back against him and felt his hand reach across my chest to cup my tits, fondling and teasing my nipples to hard, beautiful, brown peaks. I drifted off to sleep, moaning softly when he gave me his cock again and began a slow, mesmerizing fuck. He eventually exhausted himself and I fell asleep with his large hand resting on my hip, his warm cum draining from me, his cock still nestled deep inside me.

Then, my life changed. Within a year of my moving to New York, not only did my Mom become very ill, but to make matters worse, the company that Daddy had worked for over twenty-five years declared bankruptcy and let most of its employees go, including Daddy. Because of the family issues and without the monetary support from my folks I was suddenly thrown into a financial whirlpool with worries over how I would pay for school, my apartment and basic expenses. I remember feeling as if I were at the end of my rope. Through it all, Reese was there and I spent more than one night cradled in his arms clinging to him for support. A young girl's infatuation, perhaps, but through this period, I thought I was falling in love with him. He would spend the night with me, and while I cried and poured out my frustrations he would fondle me intimately until I quieted, allowing him to position me on my back. With his body covering mine, I would open my legs to accommodate him and he would enter me in one hard, deep, glorious thrust. When my orgasm erupted I would lay there listening to myself whimpering and moaning with pleasure as he reassuringly whispered against my ear, "its ok, everything will be ok, Baby. Daddy will take care of everything."

*****

My financial situation continued to deteriorate and at one point, I seriously considered returning home to live with my parents. Around this time, I began to notice that sometimes I'd come home and have an overwhelming feeling that someone had been in my apartment. Things would be slightly out of place, my closet door ajar, drawers open and occasionally the faint odor of cigarette smoke. Worst of all would be the increasing sensation that I was being watched. I tried to talk about my suspicions with my best friend Tiffany and with Reese, but they both assured me it was just my imagination and being "New York" paranoid.

Time passed, and as it turned out, it wasn't my imagination. As I later found out, Reese had without my knowing, gotten duplicate keys made and had started coming into my apartment during the day. What I didn't know and would never have suspected is that he had installed cameras throughout my apartment and had been spying on me, recording everything I did in the apartment and everything that he did to me since shortly after we began sleeping together. From what Reese eventually told me things had progressed quickly, from him occasionally entering my apartment during the day and going through my things, to him stealthily letting himself in at night and sometimes if he felt the desire, masturbating while he watched me sleep.

Not knowing what to do, I said nothing to my parents or the police. I found myself becoming depressed and frightened, unable to shake the overwhelming sense of betrayal that I felt toward Reese.

One afternoon, I met Tiffany for drinks and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Oh my god Abbie, you look like hell! What is going on?"

There at the bar, at the sound of her voice, I burst into long repressed tears. We got up, moved to a secluded table, and sat down.

"Abbie . . . what's wrong? Talk to me," she said.

"Just about everything is wrong. Mom's illness, my money problems, I feel like I'm going crazy. Tiff, I'm going to tell you something and please just listen and hear me out."

"Ok, honey," she said, her concern obvious.

"You know I told you before about feeling like someone has been coming into my apartment when I'm not there? Well, that feeling is starting to get stronger and it . . . it scares me. I'm almost afraid of being alone in my own apartment." I took a deep breath and looked at her intently. "I've been having a hard time sleeping, and started taking a sleep aide at night. The problem is, when I finally fall asleep, I start dreaming. I'm in my bed, and sometimes I'm moaning and I can feel the most glorious sensation between my legs, but I don't want to open my eyes for fear the feelings will stop. I lay there, I open my legs wider to whoever, whatever is doing this to me. Just as an orgasm takes hold and begins to move through me, I open my eyes and see the man who has been pleasuring me. When he lifts his head, I think I recognized him, he looks familiar."

Tiffany sat across from me her drink in hand staring at me. "Whew, it's hot in here," she said jokingly.

When I didn't respond, but looked at her disappointedly, she said, "That was some dream."

"Tiff, I swear, I don't think it was a dream. When I get up in the morning, I'm sore. I feel as if I've had sex, hell, a couple of times there's been cum between my legs."

I took a long sip of my drink and looked intently at her.

Tiffany's head jerked up in surprise, "Well, maybe it was real . . . maybe you were masturbating in your sleep and didn't realize how hard you were doing it." She offered.

"Oh, god Tiff, be serious," I said almost angrily.

"I am being serious. I've had those occasionally, where the dream is so real you orgasm in your sleep. It's just your body releasing sexual energy; I guess it's kind of like a man's wet dream." Tiff tried to explain.

"Maybe," I said, thinking of the things I had not told Tiff, but remembering every detail of my dream.

In my dreams, the man would keep asking me if I liked what he was doing to me, and I replied that yes I liked it and begged him not to stop. He'd raised his head up from between my legs and say, "No, baby, I won't stop". Holding his cock at its base, he'd rub its sticky, swollen head up and down my slit before mounting and pushing himself deep inside me. It was as if I were standing outside of myself watching him fuck me. I could see myself writhing under him, I could hear myself moaning and I could feel my small, tight pussy stretching and contracting around his cock, grasping it, wanting to keep him inside me. When he came, he came deep, pounding into me so hard it hurt . . . that wonderful, good kind of hurt. I remember opening my eyes and looking at the man, but this time he looked like Reese. He continued pumping into my pussy and brought me to orgasm and all I wanted to do was close my eyes as my body shuddered in exquisite release.

I took a deep breath and blurted out, "Tiff, do you think Reese is coming into my apartment at night? He's had sex with me before, there's no reason for him to act like that."

Tiffany looked at me questioningly, but didn't say anything.

"In the dream I remember feeling like I was drugged, you know . . . groggy, kind of fuzzy headed. That sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"How would he be able to come into your apartment, have sex with you without your knowing? Tiffany asked.

"I don't know . . . you think I'm being ridiculous don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it, it sounds like a kinky dream, enjoy it. Anyway, if being in the apartment really freaks you out, if I were you, I'd move," she said more sympathetically.

It's funny, I'd felt secure and safe when I first met Reese. I think I really liked him, but he had shown himself to be one of those internet whackos that you hear about. The messages, the calls, the possessiveness, were definitely not worth the vague possibility of meeting someone nice on-line. I stopped seeing Reese shortly after my meeting with Tiffany. My decision was a difficulty one because I enjoyed being with him sexually. There were things about him that excited me beyond words, but there were also things that left me feeling uneasy and anxious. I chalked our eventual breakup to an unfortunate internet experience and I promised myself I would leave that internet dating stuff alone.

*****

Almost a month had gone by and one evening I was alone having an after work drink at the same little club where Reese and I had gone the first time we met in person.

"Abbie?"

I looked up to see a very attractive man standing in front of me. It was Reese.

"Abbie, hello, may I sit down?" Reese asked.

"Reese, what are you doing here?" I stuttered.

"Damn, we haven't seen or talked to each other in weeks," he said, ignoring my question and sliding into the space beside me.

Although I would have preferred not to have anything to do with him, I didn't want to cause a scene and so we talked casually for almost an hour. As we sipped our drinks, and exchanged forced pleasantries, I found him staring at me until finally he said, "How's your money situation? Has it gotten any better?" I looked at him surprised by what he had said, trying to figure out why he was asking.

Putting his drink down, he moved closer to me in the booth and slipped his arm around my shoulders. I felt his thigh pressing against mine and attempted to create some distance between us but he tightened his grip on my shoulder preventing me from moving away. In a low voice he said with what I knew was feigned concern, "I'm sure I can help you out Abbie, you'd like that wouldn't you? I want to help you Abbie, will you let me do that?"

"Thanks for your offer Reese, but I think things will work out, in fact I've submitted papers for a school loan to tied me over," I said hesitantly.

"Well, that might not be necessary," he said, letting his hand slip down and rest on my lap and then between my legs. I stiffened at the warmth and pressure of his hand, but sat there in speechless surprise.

"Reese, please . . . ," I began.

"You know Abbie, for a returned favor, we could work out an arrangement that lets you stay in your apartment, takes care of your tuition and other expenses."

"What kind of favor do you mean?" I asked, clearly puzzled.

"A simple favor . . . I mean, you're nice to me and I'll be helpful to you." I caught my breath when I felt his hand slowly inch up my thigh and brush over my clit.

"Do you understand what I'm suggesting to you Abbie?" I looked at him incredulously and with a trembling voice managed to say, "I'm sorry Reese, there must be a misunderstanding."

There was a brief silence, and then "yes, and unfortunately, I'm the one who has the misunderstanding," he said tersely when he pulled his fingers away from my clit, but left his hand resting on my inner thigh. "I enjoyed you Abbie, very much and I'm not ready for it to end. I thought you were looking for a way to help yourself and I was more than ready to offer you a way out of your troubles, but if I was wrong, I'm the one who's sorry."

"No, wait," I cut him off. "I, I can . . . tell me what you want me to do."

"Good, good girl Abbie, I knew you were a reasonable girl," he said, while slowly parting my legs under the table. He pushed the crotch of my panties aside and slipped the tip of his finger into my pussy. My eyes widened and darted about the room fearful someone would see and realize what he was doing to me under our table. I put my hand on his to make him stop, but all he did was laugh and mouth the words "no, don't do that Abbie."

With his arm around my shoulder and his hand between my legs aggressively fondling my clit, he continued to finger me deeper and harder. He explained that he would expect access to my apartment and I was to be available when he wanted me. He would visit during the week for oral sex and intercourse, and if occasionally, he had a taste for something different I would comply. Though at that point I was not involved with anyone else sexually, he made it clear that I was not to have relations with anyone except him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, the warm room, or the way he was slowly finger fucking me, I'm not sure, but I could tell my breathing had quickened and when I felt a warm flush spread through me and I knew I was experiencing a soft, but undeniable orgasm. My eyes closed and my head fell forward. As my orgasm dissipated, I could feel a moist sheen covering my face and reluctantly lifted my head when he bent and kissed my forehead. "I don't think what I'm asking is too big of a favor, do you, Abbie?"

I couldn't bring myself to look him in the face.

"Well, what's your answer Abbie?" He demanded.

The thought of getting out from under my debts, being able to stay in my apartment and go to school without constant worry was more than I had ever expected.

"You're not the person I thought you were," I said, my voice dripping with loathing.

123
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