Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Serving The Billionaire.
MERCEDES
I dressed up on Sunday...
I always dressed up for work, but Sunday I made a special effort...
I wore the black wiggle dress that Joss had strong-armed me into buying. My body was...as she says...bootylicious, so the dress hugged me so snugly in all the right places, that it showed off each and every one of my curves.
I left my hair down and curled it at the ends to give it some extra volume and make it coil lushly over my shoulders. Then I sat at my mirror with liquid eyeliner and makeup remover until my winged liner looked the same on both sides.
I even wore lipstick...
Examining my reflection in the full-length mirror, even I could admit that I looked hot.
It was my battle armor... I was going to tell Sam, in no uncertain terms, that it was over. So I needed to look flawless and untouchable on the outside, because maybe then I would feel the same way on the inside.
Three separate men asked for my number on the subway, so maybe I didn't look quite as untouchable as I'd hoped...
Anyway, I got to the club only a few minutes before four, and it was already bustling with waitresses and dancers.
A few of the girls greeted me as I put down my things, but everyone was already so busy that nobody stopped to chat.
That was fine with me. I wasn't really in the mood for chatting anyway.
The door to room 4 was slightly open, so I went over and poked my head into the room...
Sam was there, as I'd known he would be, but he wasn't looking at his phone as he usually was. Instead, he was holding a glass of amber-colored liquid and gazing blankly at the wall.
I walked noiselessly into the room, my heels muffled by the thick carpet. I didn't know what I was doing, or why, or what I was feeling...
I could've stayed behind the bar and avoided him all night. But here I was, drawn to him inexorably, like a moth beelining for the flame.
Sam turned his head as I entered his peripheral vision... For a moment, he stared at me the same way he'd been staring at the wall, devoid of all expression, but then he seemed to realize who had disturbed him, and smiled.
"Mercedes. You're here."
"I told you I would be," I said. I stood in front of him, hands clasped. "Are you having company tonight?"
My heart hammered in my chest, but I was determined not to let him see the effect he had on me. He already had too much power over me.
"Yes. They'll be arriving shortly." He leaned forward and looked at me intently. "Will you serve drinks for me tonight?"
I opened my mouth to tell him no... To tell him that I was going to keep my distance... And that we shouldn't spend more time together; but when I spoke, I heard myself saying,
"I will."
My own body had betrayed me. There was no going back...
I squeezed my hands together tightly...
It was inevitable, really. And I'd been kidding myself, pretending that I would be able to distance myself from Sam.
I hadn't dressed up tonight to protect myself; I'd done it so that he would look at me the way he was looking at me now... With his lids heavy and his mouth curled to one side.
I wanted him to approve of me.
He cocked his head to one side...
"I wish I could tell what you're thinking," he said. "You watch everything, and you say so little. What are you thinking about, behind those dark eyes?"
Did he really think I never talked?
He sounded like he didn't think I had a personality. And most of our interactions had happened at the club, where I wasn't supposed to be talkative.
Annoyed, I said,
"I'm an introvert. Is that okay with you?"
"Is that what it is? I thought you were just shy," he said. "Go close the door."
I obeyed without thinking, my heart beating faster just from thinking about why he might want privacy.
The door was heavy and made a solid, satisfying noise as I shut it and turned the bolt.
"No, don't lock it," he said.
I hesitated...
"But... Someone could come in."
"That's the idea," he said.
I exhaled and unlocked the door. And the thought of someone walking in on us was more arousing than it should've been.
Public sex had never appealed to me, but Sam was bringing out my inner exhibitionist.
More accurately, he was bringing out my inner everything.
"Good," he said, as the bolt audibly retracted into the door. "Now come here."
I walked back over to him, swaying my hips deliberately as I placed my feet one in front of the other.
And the way he was looking at me made my mouth go dry.
I stopped in front of him, between his spread legs and planted my hands on my hips.
"That's good," he said. "Stay just like that and don't move."
I nodded, feeling heat gather between my legs...
It still amazed me that this man had this effect on me... That he could reduce me to gibbering arousal with a few commands and a meaningful look.
He could overcome all of my reservations, make me break my own promises to myself and keep me waiting on his every word.
No man should have that sort of power, but Sam did... And I was beholden to him.
He leaned forward in his seat and took the hem of my dress in both hands...
Slowly, he dragged it up my thighs... Up to my hips and around my waist, his fingers skimming teasingly along my thighs as he went.
I breathed through my mouth shallowly, trying to keep my pulse even... I was glad I was wearing stockings, but even with their protection, I still felt stripped to the bone.
And Sam wasn't finished...
With my dress out of the way, he tugged at the elastic waist of my stockings, drawing it away from my body, and carefully shimmied them down around my knees, hobbling me.
Underneath, I was wearing my usual silky underpants. And Sam pressed his face against them...against my mound, and inhaled.
I moaned aloud, unable to help myself. God, he was smelling me and I was pretty sure he could, because my panties were wet, and his face was right there, his nose tucked up against my clit.
I slid my hands into his silky blonde hair, scratching at his scalp, and curled my fingers around the slope of his skull.
"You smell incredible," he said, each word a warm gust of breath. "And your little bikini briefs... Christ, it makes you seem so innocent. But of course I know that you're not."
But I had been innocent, not so long ago... Not innocent in general, of course; I'd known for years that life was solitary, poor and brutish, but until very recently, I had been completely innocent about men, and about the sorts of things that Sam had taught me...
Like the way my body responded to his and the molten desires churning deep within me, waiting to be unearthed.
I would never admit it to him, though...
Instead of replying, I tilted my hips towards Sam, a clear invitation. I wanted him to touch me, and I knew he would tease me all evening if I gave him the chance.
I was too shy around him, still, to ask him for what I wanted, so I would let my body do the asking instead...
It didn't have the desired effect...
Instead of pulling down my panties and putting his mouth on me, he drew back and smirked at me.
"We don't have time for that tonight," he said. "You'll have to settle for second best."
I couldn't imagine what second best was...
His cock?
The vibrator again?
I was about to gather my courage and ask him when he curled one hand around my thigh and teased the other along the elastic binding of my panties, arcing along my hip and thigh and then down between my legs.
Oh my God...
I shifted my feet slightly, spreading my legs further, giving him full access.
He looked up at me, his green eyes dark, his mouth curved into a private smile, and held eye contact as he pushed the crotch of my underpants out of the way and slid his fingers against my wet slit.
My fingers dug into his scalp without permission, and I hastily snatched my hands away, afraid I would hurt him.
"It's okay," he said, but I had already moved my hands to his shoulders, balancing myself with my fingertips against the crisp fabric of his shirt.
His hand moved expertly... He stroked my wet folds, setting every nerve ending alight and then slid his hand up to roll his thumb over my clit.
My knees buckled... I bent over at the waist and planted my hands firmly on his shoulders, relying on him to keep me upright.
With each subtle shift of his fingers, sparks of pleasure shot through me, agonizing delight.
"You're so responsive," he said. "It's incredible. Every man alive dreams of this. You were made for me, weren't you? To come on my fingers, my tongue and my cock..."
"Please," I said, nonsensically, and he laughed softly, a low, warm sound, and started rubbing my clit in fast circles... It was my own favorite way to touch myself.
He wasn't teasing now, though. He was actively trying to make me come...
I breathed through my mouth, pulsing my hips towards Sam in time with the movements of his fingers.
He was... God, he was so good at this... Both at touching me and the way he'd set up the scenario...with the door unlocked, my stockings around my knees and my dress shoved up around my waist.
I was completely exposed... And if anybody walked into the room, there would be no uncertainty as to what was going on...
I was getting fingered by Samuel Evans, and loving it.
He pushed two fingers into my body, gently but firmly, and I cried out as I felt myself opening around the intrusion.
Then he twisted his fingers and pressed them into me, touching at something inside me that sent unexpected heat flowing through my veins.
I didn't know what I was feeling, but I wanted more of it, and I wanted him to keep touching me forever... To keep me in that state of ecstatic delirium, where I didn't care about anything but him and his body and the way he felt against me.
And then, just as I was thinking that, he pulled away.
He drew his fingers out of me and extracted his hand from my panties. Then he tugged the fabric back into place and kissed my thigh as he said,
"I think that's enough."
"No," I protested, my voice a weak scrap of sound.
He laughed and began tugging my stockings back up my thighs.
"My guests will be here soon. You don't want them to catch you like this, do you?"
He was right... I didn't. So I forced myself to straighten up and tried to help him fix my clothing, but my hands were trembling and useless, so he gently pushed them out of the way.
I stood there like a child while he re-dressed me and smoothed the wrinkles out of my dress.
"There," he said. "Good as new."
Then he lifted his hand to his face, the one he was using on me and sniffed the fingers that were inside me, closing his eyes with exaggerated pleasure.
I stared at him, mesmerized and when he opened his eyes again, our gazes locked...
"I'm not going to wash my hands," he told me. "I'm going to smell you on my skin all night."
I never knew how to react when he said things like that. I looked down at my feet, my face flaming, and picked an imaginary piece of lint off the skirt of my dress.
"Shy or introverted?" he asked, teasing me, returning to the conversation we'd been having before he... Before...
"Aren't they basically the same thing?" I asked.
"You tell me," he said. "You're the expert." He stood and wiped his hand on a napkin, then handed it to me. I took it, mortified, my pussy still throbbing from his touch. "Scotch, please, as usual," he said. Then he looked me up and down... "I'll make you come later."
"Yes, sir," I said, and shamelessly reveled in the sudden flare of heat in his eyes.
By the time I returned from the bar with a bottle of Scotch, the first of Sam's guests had already arrived.
We'd cut it too close; another few minutes and the man would've caught us in the act.
Maybe that was the idea... Sam had, after all, told me that he liked to watch. Maybe he liked to be watched, too...
I hoped he wouldn't ask me to do that with him, though. The idea of strangers...or not even strangers...or of anyone watching us have sex gave me tremors.
I seriously needed help, because I liked the idea more than I wanted to. So it was safer to just not go there at all.
The party that night was larger than usual... On the other nights I'd served for him, Sam had only had a handful of guests, maybe five at the most; but this time, there were closer to fifteen.
I didn't have time to keep an exact count. They kept me busy, running back and forth to the bar with drink orders, so I barely had time to deliver one drink before I was sent off to fetch another.
There were three dancers in the room too, women I knew by sight but had never spoken to. And by the time the final guest arrived, maybe half an hour after the first, the dancers were all naked and perched on some man's lap, with other men fondling their breasts and bald pussies and shapely asses.
Sam's parties were usually pretty sedate, with the men focusing primarily on their discussions about business and only secondarily on the dancers, but the atmosphere this evening was different...
The guests were paying more attention to the dancers than usual, stroking them more demandingly, even urging two of them to make out with each other.
One of the men actually directed a dancer to straddle his lap, and began grinding his hips up against her with every appearance of intending to get himself off.
I set down a tray of drinks and glanced at Sam... He was in close discussion with one of his guests, and didn't seem to notice the direction his party was taking.
The dancers seemed happy enough, laughing with the clients, pressing their breasts against a man's face, letting him suck on their nipples; but I was growing increasingly uncomfortable.
Brittany had told me, back before the first time I waitressed at one of Sam's parties, that his guests were all very vanilla, and that I had nothing to be concerned about. But it looked now, like a few of them were going to try to have sex with the dancers, right there in front of everyone...
And Sam didn't seem to be paying any attention.
I went over to him, finally, under the pretense of refilling his drink. He looked up at me and smiled, and I took that as my opening...
"Some of your guests are getting a little wild," I murmured, hoping that the man he was talking to couldn't hear me over the noise in the room.
Sam sat up out of his lazy slump and looked over his shoulder at the men groping and licking and sucking. He raised one eyebrow and said,
"You think that's wild?"
"Well, more than usual," I said, frowning.
He chuckled...
"You've only been to my parties. Most of the parties here are...well, maybe someday you'll go to one."
I kept frowning... I didn't know why this was making me feel so unsettled. It wasn't a surprise, after all; I knew that I worked at a sex club, and given the context, nobody in the room was doing anything particularly shocking.
None of the dancers was protesting. Everyone appeared to be having a good time. But there was still something about the whole situation that made me twitchy, like there was an itch under my skin that I couldn't scratch.
I was aroused, I realized, and not just from Sam fingering me before the party began... I liked watching the dancers being fondled by the guests, because I was imagining myself in their places.
I wonder what it would be like to have those men desire me so blatantly... To touch me like that, out in the open, not caring what anyone thought?
Or what it would be like to walk around naked, so confident in my own desirability that I lost all self-consciousness...
Or even what would it be like to straddle Sam, right there in the middle of the room, unzip his pants and ride his dick until we both came...
A man called to me, requesting another drink... And I shivered and turned away from Sam, letting him return to his conversation.
I welcomed the interruption. It allowed me to return to the steady work of serving drinks, which kept my mind just busy enough that I didn't have to think about the things I kept learning about myself.
Being around Sam was peeling me down like an onion, layer by layer, and I was afraid of what I might find at the hidden core...
As the evening wore on, and the guests drank more, they grew increasingly uninhibited...
I tried not to look too closely, but I still caught flashes and quick glimpses from the corner of my eye as I turned or set down a tray of drinks...
Fingers sliding into a vagina... A mouth hanging open in ecstasy... Even a hard cock being drawn out of a pair of expensive wool trousers.
My face was flushed... Because it was hot in the room. That was all.
I lost track of time, too busy going back and forth to the bar to waste any precious seconds looking at the clock.
And my feet started to ache after a while, which meant it had been at least a few hours.
At some point, Sam beckoned me over, and I went to him gratefully, glad to return to him... He was my anchor, my safe harbor.
I stopped beside him and bent down, close enough that I would be able to hear whatever he had to say to me.
"Mr. Evans," I said, trying to sound sultry. "How can I be of service?"
He touched the back of my knee, and drew his hand up my thigh, beneath my dress, until it rested directly below the curve of my ass.
I stiffened, glancing at the man he had been speaking to, but he was on his phone, apparently paying no attention.
I forced myself to relax... Nobody would care. There were naked women directly behind me; nobody would care that Sam was touching my thigh.
"I want you," he started, pitching his voice just loud enough for me to hear it. "To go over to that gentleman with the purple tie, get on your knees in front of him, unzip his pants and suck his cock."
My head reeled... I must have misheard him. He wouldn't have... He wouldn't actually say something like that to me, would he?
"What did you say?"
"You heard me," he said. "I owe that man a favor. You're mine now, aren't you? Go suck his cock."
I straightened up, suddenly feeling the need to distance myself from Sam.
"I'm not... Why would you ask me to do that? I don't know him, and I'm... You don't own me. You..."
He frowned up at me.
"Why are you arguing? I gave you an order."
My face flushed with blood and sudden heat, then drained, leaving me cold. And my head felt like it was floating a foot above my body.
I was trapped in an unexpected nightmare... And Sam had suddenly transformed into someone I didn't recognize.
"I don't want to," I seethed.
He shrugged, indifferent.
"I don't care."
How could I tell this man no, when my refusal meant nothing to him?
I said nothing for a few moments, trying to stay steady on my feet, my thoughts running in tiny circles like a trapped mouse. And then I opened my mouth, my chest aching, and said,
"Sassafras."
Sam's response was immediate and absolute... His handsome face paled and he dropped his hand from my thigh and sat back in his seat.
We stared at each other, his expression blank with shock. And I imagined that mine probably looked about the same.
Then, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room...
Stay safe!