Miranda's POV
My fingers trembled, tracing his pecs, down to his abs, hard and warm. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall, then guided my hand lower, to the bulge in his pants. His dick was thick, straining against the fabric. "Go on," he urged, "touch it."
I hesitated, then cupped him, feeling the heat, the hardness. He groaned, "good girl." His hands roamed my body, squeezing my tits, thumbs circling my nipples through the lace. Then he knelt, pulling my panties down, exposing my wet pussy. His fingers parted my folds, teasing, "your turn. Taste me."
He unzipped, his cock springing free—long, thick, veined. I froze, "I've never…"
"I'll guide you," he said, gently pushing me to my knees. "Open your mouth."
I did, nervous, my lips brushing the tip. He tasted salty, musky. I took him in, my mouth stretching around his shaft, tongue tentative. He moaned, hand in my hair, "suck it, Miranda, just like that." I bobbed my head, slow at first, then faster, his cock filling my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. His groans spurred me on, my pussy clenching with need.
"Enough," he said, pulling me up, kissing me hard, "you're a natural."
That night, in the bedroom, he laid me on the silk sheets, "time for more positions," he said, stripping off his clothes. His cock bobbed, hard and ready. He positioned me on my back, legs spread, "just foreplay, no penetration yet." His fingers teased my clit, then slid along my slit, making me moan. He climbed over me, guiding my hands to his dick, "stroke it, like this."
I gripped him, pumping slowly, his precum slicking my fingers. He kissed my neck, sucking hard, then moved to my breasts, tongue swirling over my nipples, biting gently. "Try this," he said, shifting us to a sixty-nine, his face between my thighs, my mouth near his cock. His tongue plunged into my pussy, lapping deep, circling my entrance. I moaned around his dick, sucking harder, my hips grinding against his face. The pleasure built, intense, my body shaking as I came, his tongue relentless.
He pulled back, grinning, "you're getting good at this."
I panted, confidence growing, "I… I think I like it."
He chuckled, rolling me onto my side, spooning me, his cock pressed against my ass, "good. You're mine to teach."
We moved through more positions—me on top, straddling his thighs, grinding without taking him in; then doggy, his hands on my hips, teasing my pussy with his fingers. My virginity stayed intact, but every touch made me bolder, hungrier.
Mid-session, sweat-slicked and breathless, I whispered, "Albert, I'm scared… what if I'm falling for you?"
He froze, his cock still hard against my thigh. His eyes softened, a rare vulnerability flickering, "Miranda, that's…" He leaned in, kissing me gently, "we'll figure it out."
Before I could respond, a sharp knock broke the moment. Albert cursed, pulling away, "who the hell is it?"
A muffled voice came through, "sir, it's me, Reynolds, it's your sister. She's in trouble—hospitalized. You need to come now."
Albert's face hardened, "fuck! Now?"
I sat up, heart pounding, "your sister? What happened?"
He yanked on his pants, "estranged, long story. Stay here, Miranda. I'll handle this."
He rushed out, leaving me naked, my body still buzzing, my mind reeling. Falling for him? And now his sister? The door slammed, and I heard his footsteps fade, replaced by a new fear—what if this life was pulling me in too deep?
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Albert's POV
I slammed the bedroom door behind me, heart racing as Reynolds' words echoed—my sister, Lila, in the hospital, in trouble. Miranda's confession about falling for me still hung in the air, her naked body sprawled on the sheets, but I couldn't focus on that now. I stormed to my office, the mansion's silence pressing in. My cock was still hard from our session, her moans replaying in my mind, but family drama had a way of killing the mood.
By morning, I was on the phone, pacing, as Lila's weak voice crackled through, "Albert, I fucked up," she said, coughing, "hospital bills, bad investments, I'm drowning, can you help?"
I sighed, rubbing my temple, "how much this time, Lila?"
"Fifty grand, maybe more," she mumbled, "I know we haven't talked in years, but I'm desperate."
Her words hit hard, dragging up memories of my own broke days—hustling in porn, fucking for cash to escape the same kind of mess she was in now. I'd clawed my way to billions for control, for power, so no one could pull me down again, "I'll wire it," I said, "but you owe me answers later."
She sniffled, "thanks, Albert, I mean it."
I hung up, frustration boiling, Lila's chaos was a distraction I didn't need, not with Miranda waiting, her virgin pussy begging to be claimed and I needed to get back to her, channel this anger into something hotter.
By afternoon, I found Miranda in the lounge, wearing a sheer robe that barely hid her curves. Her breasts pressed against the fabric, nipples teasing through. She looked up, wary but curious, "you're back, everything okay?"
"Family bullshit," I said, pulling her to her feet, "let's forget it, lesson time, you ready to ride?"
Her eyes widened, "ride? Like… what?"
I smirked, guiding her to a plush chair, "not full sex, not yet, simulation, I'll show you how to move." I stripped off my shirt, then my pants, my cock springing free, thick and ready. I sat, pulling her onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine, "grind on me, feel the rhythm."
She hesitated, then pressed her pussy against my shaft, the lace panties already damp. I groaned, "fuck, just like that, move your hips." Her tits bounced as she rocked, slow at first, then faster, her moans filling the air. My dick slid along her slit, not entering, just teasing, her wetness coating me, "you're so wet," I growled, hands gripping her ass, guiding her, "imagine me inside you, filling that tight pussy."
She gasped, "Albert, it feels… so good," her voice broke, hips bucking as she came, her juices soaking my cock.
I kissed her neck, "perfect, you're learning fast."
That evening, over dinner in the dining hall, I poured her wine, trying to shake off Lila's call. Miranda picked at her pasta, quieter than usual, "you mentioned family, what's the deal?"
I leaned back, sipping my drink, "estranged sister, Lila, always in trouble, reminds me of why I started… well, everything, what about you? Your aunt's a piece of work, but what's your story?"
She sighed, pushing her plate away, "my parents died six months ago, car crash, Aunt Carla took me in, but she's been cold, distant, always gambling, I thought she cared, until she sold me."
Her voice cracked, and I reached for her hand, "that's rough, I get it, my porn days started because I was broke, needed control, I fucked my way to money, then built this empire to never be powerless again."
She looked up, eyes soft, "that's… kind of sad, but it makes sense, you're not what I expected."
I smirked, "good, keep surprising me too."
The air shifted, charged with something deeper than lust. I stood, pulling her toward the bedroom, "come on, let's take this further."
In the bedroom, I laid her on the silk sheets, "more foreplay, advanced stuff," I said, stripping her robe off. Her breasts spilled free, full and perfect, nipples hard. I kissed her, deep, my tongue claiming her mouth, then moved to her tits, sucking one nipple while pinching the other. She moaned, arching into me. I slid her panties down, her pussy glistening, "spread your legs," I said, positioning her in missionary, my cock rubbing against her clit, not entering.
"Teach me," she whispered, hands gripping my shoulders.
I showed her rhythms—slow grinds, then faster thrusts, my dick sliding along her wet folds, teasing her entrance, "feel that?" I murmured, "imagine me pushing in, stretching you." She moaned louder, hips moving with mine, her confidence growing. I flipped her to doggy, my hands on her hips, cock grinding against her ass, "like this, you control the pace."
She pushed back, "God, Albert, I want… more."
I was about to guide her further when my phone buzzed on the nightstand, loud and jarring. I cursed, grabbing it—a text from an old porn colleague, Vince, someone I hadn't spoken to in years, Need 100k or I spill your old tapes to the press, Mondragon, 24 hours.
My blood ran cold. A threat, now? With Miranda here, Lila's mess, and my company on the line?
"Who is it?" Miranda asked, sitting up, her tits still flushed from our play.
I stood, pulling on my pants, "old business, stay here, I need to make a call."
Her eyes widened, "Albert, what's wrong?"
"Just wait," I said, stepping into the hall, dialing Vince, "you think you can blackmail me? Name your real price."
His voice was smug, "oh, I'm serious, pay up, or your past is front-page news."
I gripped the phone, rage flaring, leaving Miranda waiting, her body still warm and ready, as this ghost from my past threatened to unravel everything to the world.