The Offer Pt. 01

Kylie knew in the pit of her stomach this was a bad idea. What was she thinking? Sitting in this limo, on her way to who knows where, on a Friday evening. But the money, she remembered, and the thought reassured her, told her it wasn't such a bad decision to have agreed to this. Whatever "this" was. She would find out soon enough, not that she knew how close she was to her destination, having been given no information other than she would be transported there. Purposely, she was sure. And she'd told nobody she was doing this, that was part of the deal, the secrecy. And again, helpfully, she remembered about the money. Closed her eyes, breathed slowly, and tried to calm her mind. She was in this now, no turning back.

A month earlier, she'd been approached on campus as she walked from the gym to her dorm by a man in a suit and sunglasses. He said he represented a client who had what he hoped was an interesting opportunity for her, and that he would be in touch again soon, offering no more information before turning and leaving her, standing there bemused and looking around to see if anyone had witnessed the strange and short interaction. That part of campus was deserted, so she wondered if he had chosen that time and place on purpose to approach her.

She replayed it a few times later that day, the way he had referred to her as "Ms. D'Alessio", so he knew who she was. Likely from her Instagram account, she thought. A college gymnast, she and her teammates frequently posted pics and videos of themselves, and she had nearly 100 thousand followers. And no wonder - she was staggeringly pretty, with brown eyes and long jet black hair, and a gymnast's body of course. Pert ass, strong thighs. Her posts had received a ton of comments, as well as private messages, some of them less than "wholesome".

"You make me shoot ropes", one of them wrote. "I want to be inside you so bad", another. And so on, so many lurid, perverted thoughts spilled. She deleted them, blocked the sender... most of the time. Sometimes, they got to send her one or two more messages like that until she'd come to her senses. They probably created a new account and sent similar messages before being blocked again, she figured. She would never admit to herself and always pushed the thought aside when it popped into her head, but deep down part of her enjoyed it, eliciting that kind of attention.

That evening she saw she had one new private message in her Insta, and there it was:

"It was so nice meeting you today, Ms. D'Alessio. I would very much like to meet with you to share details of my client's proposal. 440 3rd Ave, 20th Floor. Friday, 10am. Please come alone. Thank you."

Kylie re-read a couple of times, and put her phone down, wondering if she would take up the offer, having no details of what it was about. Friday was two days away, and she realized she had no classes or gym practice that morning - had they known somehow, and that's why they suggested that time?

She felt silly for even considering it, but she was so intrigued, and asked herself, "what's the harm in going?". She thought about telling friends about it but decided not to, and kept it to herself, going over her decision in her mind until Friday morning. She showered, and put on a pink sundress. She was going to do it.

* * * * * *

Taking a car downtown, she got off at the address in the message and looked up at the towering building. Entering, she saw a portly older man at the security desk, and began to announce herself, when she was cut off.

"20th floor," was all he said, with a brief smile.

"Thank you," Kylie said, thinking this was just getting stranger, and entered the elevator and hit the button for the 20th floor. Stepping out of the elevator, she was met by the same man who had approached her two days previously, again wearing a suit.

"Ms. D'Alessio, I'm delighted you came. Please follow me." He still hadn't told her his name, but led her to an office a couple of doors down, and Kylie noticed the rest of the office space appeared empty and silent. He gestured to a chair on one side of the desk, and he sat across from her.

"I'm sure you're curious about what this mysterious offer is," he began, flashing a smile.

"Yes, very," Kylie replied, also smiling.

"I represent a very wealthy man, I cannot tell you his name, and he and five of his friends would like you to spend a weekend with them," he said, and Kylie let that sink in for a few seconds and tried to interpret it.

"Okay...," she replied. "And do what?"

"This might explain. This is what prompted my client to reach out to you," he replied, clicking a device on the desk and turning on a giant TV screen on the office wall.

It was her Instagram posts, and he cycled through a few, some of her in her leotard posing, some close-up selfies. She felt herself blush, being in this office with a much older man and risque photos of her on the massive screen.

"Um, OK, but I still don't know what they want me to do," Kylie said, puzzled. "Do they... want me to pose like that?"

"Well yes, but that's not all. The offer is $2 million," he replied.

Kylie's eyes went wide and her jaw fell open.

"$2 million? To do what?" she asked incredulously.

The man across the desk sat in silence and waited for Kylie to fill in the gaps. After a few seconds she did.

"Oh my God. Oh my GOD! Really? What?" she blurted out.

The man nodded, and then said, "To be clear, you would need to be open to everything. Absolutely everything. This is a lot of money they are offering you."

"I know but... I mean holy shit," Kylie replied. Her head was swimming. A group of men was offering her millions of dollars to sleep with them, because of her Instagram posts.

"I understand it's a big decision, so please ask me any questions you have now. I cannot promise to answer all of them, but now is your only chance to find out more information," the man said.

Kylie sat there, still stunned by what was being proposed, and had a hard time thinking of any useful questions in such a crazy and unexpected situation. Finally, she thought of something to ask.

"How old are they?" Kylie asked, barely able to believe the words had left her mouth.

"They are all," he started, then pausing to gather his thoughts. "They are all between 55 and 65"

"OK. Wow," Kylie replied, staring at the desk. These much much older men, all three times her age, had been enjoying her pics so much they were offering her millions to... do "everything" with them, she remembered, and her stomach turned a little. As if sensing her unease, the man spoke again.

"$2 million is an incredible amount of money. You're what, 19? Think of what you can with that. And not just for yourself."

Kylie's eyes briefly met his at that comment, and then she looked away to continue taking it all in. He was right, it was so much money, but was it worth it, to go through with whatever they would have her do? And a whole weekend?

"When would this happen?" Kylie asked, again surprised to hear herself ask the question.

"In a couple of weeks, starting on the evening of Friday the 17th," the man replied. "Half of your fee would be deposited into an account of your choosing upon acceptance of the offer, with the second half paid once you have completed your duties."

"How long do I have to decide?"

"Until 9pm Sunday."

Kylie exhaled audibly, her gaze moving around the room as she considered the offer.

"And one more thing," the man said, his hands clasped together and both elbows on the desk. "This must remain between you, me, and my client and his friends. If we learn that you have told anyone, the offer will be rescinded. And just remember, $2 million will change your life."

Kylie looked at him and nodded. "OK," she said.

"That's all for today. To accept the offer, respond "OK" to my message to you. I assume you still have it?"

"Yes," Kylie replied.

"Very well. I look forward to hearing from you," he said and stood up, ushering Kylie out of the office and towards the elevator.

"Goodbye, Ms. D'Alessio," he said as the doors started to close, and Kylie didn't respond, lost in her thoughts.

* * * * * *

Over the next few days, Kylie replayed the conversation in the office over and over again. It barely seemed real. How could it? She was vacillating between the temptation and lure of the massive amount of money she was being offered, and disgust at what was expected of her, being the plaything of six men in their 50s and 60s. And occasionally, though she tried to deny it to herself, she felt a slight thrill at being the center of attention in that way. The fact that they would offer so much money, for just one weekend. She figured other girls who had "sugar daddies" didn't, couldn't make (or save) that much in a whole year. Granted it was with just one guy, but she imagined they also had to do stuff they didn't want to, but it made other parts of their lives so much easier. This was just one weekend.

Come Sunday evening, Kylie had finally come to a decision. "OK" she typed, holding her breath before sending.

"Excellent. Details forthcoming" came the reply within seconds. Kylie's heart raced.

She met with the man again the next day, same location, signing a contract which of course she didn't have an attorney review - how could she, if she couldn't tell anyone about it? The same day, she saw the staggering amount of $1 million land in her bank account. This was real, and she suddenly felt there was no going back now. A wave of nausea hit her, but she told herself to concentrate on the money. She was going to double it in less than two weeks.

Between then and Friday the 17th, she received further instructions, some mundane, and some that made her eyes go wide on reading them - leotards to pack, bikinis, to do her hair a certain way, to shave herself... they had clearly put a lot of thought into this. The night before, she packed a small suitcase with the items requested, and while in the shower she shaved off her dark pubic hair for the first time in her life. Her pussy was now completely hairless, and when she checked in the mirror first thing the next morning, there was not even a trace of stubble. Running her finger above and down both sides of her pussy, she was relieved to find the skin smooth.

She went to a couple of classes that morning, and then returned to her dorm around noon to do her, the final thing on the list of requests to take care of. She braided it per the request, matching the style in a few Instagram pics. By this time she finished and had put on a yellow summer dress, it was nearly time to be at the new address the man had provided, where she would be picked up and driven to her destination for the weekend. The dress, of course, was one she had worn in one of her Instagram posts.

Picking up her bag for the weekend and checking herself one last time in the mirror, she headed out the door. She had told friends she was going away to visit a friend at another college for the weekend, and was confident her secret would be safe. It had crossed her mind to tell at least one close friend what she had agreed to, but ultimately decided against it.

The pickup spot was walking distance from college, and Kylie was there in 15 minutes' time, a little ahead of schedule. 5 minutes later, a black Lincoln town car with tinted windows pulled up at the curb and the driver's door opened. A fairly tall, heavy-set man with a bald head, expressionless face and sunglasses got out and walked over to Kylie.

"Ms. D'Alessio?" he asked.

"Yes," Kylie replied, and the man nodded and opened the rear door on the passenger side and approached Kylie and picked up her bag. Kylie got in the car, while the driver put her bag in the trunk.

So here Kylie found herself in the limo with the doubts swirling around her head, and the butterflies in her stomach.

After about 30 minutes of silence, Kylie's regrets over her decisions prompted her to prepare to ask the driver to stop, but no sooner had that idea popped into her head, than he announced they had reached their destination. Kylie sat in silence, taking deep breaths, until a few seconds later when the driver opened her door. Stepping out of the car, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun after having been in the car with its tinted windows for half an hour, and put her sunglasses on. Then she saw where she was, outside a staggering large and ornate mansion. The sight of it took her mind off the stomach-churning thoughts she had been having on the drive there.

As Kylie stood taking in the view, the driver retrieved her Kylie's bag from the trunk and walked towards the house. Turning, he gestured for her to follow him, so she walked behind him up the steps to the front door. He rang the doorbell, left Kylie's suitcase next to her, nodded silently to her, and walked back to his car.

Three seconds later the enormous front door opened.

"You're here!" exclaimed the man who stood before Kylie, a wide smile on his face. She placed him at likely late 50s, with his short grey hair, and was relieved he was handsome at least.

"Hi," Kylie replied shyly.

"Please come in. And let me get that for you," he said, stepping outside to pick up her suitcase and bring it into the house, Kylie following him.

"Someone will be here to pick this up and take it your room in a moment," he continued before he gazed at her from head to toe. "I'm so happy you're here. And can I just say, you look even more beautiful in-person."

"Thank you," Kylie replied, hoping her face wasn't turning as red as she felt it was.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah, a little."

"That's understandable," he said, touching Kylie's arm to reassure her, and making her shiver. "This is a big deal. But just think about how much you're getting paid, focus on that, and I think you might be surprised how much you enjoy yourself this weekend."

"I'll try, thanks," Kylie replied nervously, averting her eyes.

"OK, let me show you around," he said, putting his hand on the small of Kylie's back. Kylie felt her knees go weak at his touch, and a slight wave of nausea passed through her.

"Oh, one thing, sorry - I will need your phone, please," he said, stopping after a few steps.

"Oh right," Kylie replied, remembering the clause in the contract she had signed. It felt weird to be handing it over, her only means of communication with the outside world, but she reluctantly did so.

"Thank you," the man replied, putting it in his left pants pocket.

"I didn't get your name," Kylie said, surprising herself a little with her boldness.

"Right," he replied with a chuckle. "You can call me Mr. Foster."

He led Kylie out of the enormous entry way, into an equally impressive living room, the kind of which Kylie had only ever seen in photos online and in magazines. Passing through the living room, his hand remaining on Kylie's back, they entered a beautiful dining room, and then the biggest kitchen she had ever seen. She was almost too stunned to say anything but felt the polite thing to do was compliment him on his home.

"This is an amazing place you have," she said shakily, still struggling to master her nerves.

"Thanks Kylie," he replied with a smile. "Wait 'til you see this."

Through a door in the kitchen he led them to another living area, smaller than the first but cozier, and then Kylie's breath was taken by the view through the massive French doors - a swimming pool and patio area, with hills in the background and sun starting to go down.

"Oh wow," she muttered, her mouth slightly agape, and felt silly for having spoken.

"Not bad, huh," he replied, now slowly caressing her back. "We'll have dinner in about an hour, just the two of us. The others will arrive tomorrow morning."

"Oh, OK," Kylie replied. She'd momentarily forgotten that there would be five others involved. Just being here with Mr. Foster felt overwhelming.

"In the meantime, how about we get to know each other better?" he said, finally removing his hand from Kylie's back but sitting on one of the sofas and patting the space next to him.

Kylie swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and sat beside him. Immediately he put his left hand on her knee, and slowly pushed her skirt up so that he was caressing her thigh. Kylie felt unable to move, frozen by the realization that it was really beginning.

"I was just enjoying looking at some of your photos on Instagram today," he said, and retrieved his phone from the right pocket of his pants. He pulled Instagram up and showed Kylie her own profile. It was so strange to have this man she had met five minutes earlier scrolling through her posts in front of her while he gently stroked her bare thigh.

"Like this one," he said, tapping on a pic of Kylie posing and smiling in a blue bikini. It was the post which had garnered more lewd comments than any other of hers. "You look so incredibly beautiful there... your body, your pretty face. Photos like this are the reason you're here, making $2 million this weekend. Bet you had no idea when you took this pic did you?"

Kylie just shook her head. She felt like this was a dream in which she couldn't speak.

"Do you remember what was on your mind when you took it?" he asked.

Kylie again shook her head. She really didn't remember what she was thinking at the time.

"I have a feeling you were thinking about how people would react to it. Especially men, seeing you like that, all that bare skin. You must have known at the time."

"I don't know," Kylie managed to whisper.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," he replied. "That's just the way the world works."

"I guess," Kylie replied.

Mr. Foster set his phone on the sofa and put his right hand on Kylie's face, gently stroking her cheek, his left hand still on her right thigh. A coldness enveloped Kylie's body at his touch.

"You are so cute, you know that?" he said, looking at Kylie while she averted her eyes. Then his right hand moved to her left shoulder, his thumb on the strap of her dress.

"You're trembling," he whispered, to which Kylie had no response.

"Your skin is perfect," he said, caressing Kylie's shoulder and the top of her arm, before his hand made its way down, inevitably, to her left breast. For the first time, Kylie reminded herself about how much she was getting paid for this weekend as he began squeezing and groping both her tits, his left hand moving to her right breast.

"Stand up," he said, and Kylie wordlessly complied, feeling his hands now on the outside of her thighs, pushing her yellow dress up to reveal her white panties. Kylie could feel his breath on her legs and crotch, and then his mouth and tongue on her stomach and in her belly button. It made her shiver and she felt the unmistakable beginnings of wetness in her pussy.

As he lifted her dress further, Kylie raised her arms, allowing him to lift it up over her head, leaving her in just her underwear. Before she knew it, his hands were working at the clasp of her strapless bra, in seconds undoing it and letting it fall down her body. Then his mouth and hands made their way up her torso until they reached her chest, and he cupped them and took her erect right nipple into his mouth first. Kylie couldn't help but exhale audibly, and Mr. Foster moaned as he enjoyed the succulent treat of Kylie's pert 19-year old breasts.

By now his cock was raging inside his pants, his zipper pushed to breaking point by his thick, rock-hard erection caused by finally having this beautiful girl after whom he had lusted so much finally right in front of him. The temptation to take his cock out immediately and slide it into any of Kylie's tight orifices was huge, but he was determined to enjoy her tight young body as much as possible, to explore it with his hands and mouth, to taste and savor her flesh. As he made his way from her right nipple to her left with his tongue, his hands moved down her body until they reached her panties. Sliding his fingers beneath the waistband, he slowly slid them down Kylie's legs, and then he placed his hands on Kylie's bare behind.

"I fucking love this ass," he said, squeezing her pert ass cheeks hard, so hard it made Kylie gasp.

"Now let's see what we have here," he said, as his eyes made their way down her body towards her crotch.

"Oh, perfect," he said once he saw Kylie's shaved pussy. "I love a girl who can follow instructions."

Next his right hand was on her pussy lips, and he slid first his middle finger and then his forefinger up inside her. Kylie involuntarily let out a groan as she was digitally penetrated by this much older man she'd met minutes earlier.

"Mmm, you're getting wet already," he said, his face touching Kylie's. "Do you like that?"

Kylie said nothing, with her eyes closed as Mr. Foster now rubbed her clit with his thumb, his fingers still deep inside her. For about twenty seconds he fingered her while groping her tits with his left hand, and Kylie could feel herself getting wetter, his fingers sliding back and forth up her cunt. Then he withdrew his fingers from her and brought them up to her face.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and Kylie did as she was told. Immediately her mouth was filled with the fingers that had just been inside her, coated in her pussy juices, as he made her taste herself. He pushed them so far that Kylie gagged, drool spilling out of her mouth and down her chin.

With those fingers still in Kylie's mouth, practically making her choke, he slid two fingers on his left hand up her pussy again. Kylie's eyes watered as he roughly fingerbanged her teen cunt and pushed his fingers to the back of her throat.

"Taste your wet cunt," he urged, as if she had a choice, his fingers shoved in her mouth. She was relieved when he withdrew his fingers from both her mouth and pussy, and let him lower her onto the couch, her head resting on a pillow at one end. His mouth went back to her breasts, taking her left nipple, then her right, and back to the left one again, Kylie's body tingling as he sucked on her tits. Slowly tonguing his way down her body, he finally reached her vagina, and Kylie heard him inhaling through his nose. Her aroma was intoxicating, unique, slightly sweet, and he wondered how many men had had the privilege of being in this position, inches from her dripping wet cunt and about to taste it. Not many, he imagined, she was only 19 and seemed a sweet girl, for all her posing in revealing outfits on Instagram.

Before he tasted her there, he held her legs and kissed and licked the insides of her thighs, leaving a trail of saliva to her knees and back again. Kylie was surprised and a little disgusted with herself for wanting him to put his mouth on her pussy, her loins aching. She didn't have to wait long. Suddenly his mouth enveloped her hole, and Kylie moaned and arched her back, pushing her hips up towards him. Mr. Foster devoured her cunt, sucking on her shaven pussy lips and pushing his tongue inside her, flicking at her engorged clit. He couldn't get enough of the salty and umami flavor of her pussy, lapping at it like he hadn't eaten or drank in days, and Kylie couldn't help but love the sensation. She put her right hand on his head, lightly gripping his hair, barely able to believe she was actually enjoying this. But how could she not? Yes he had paid to use her body, but here he was munching on her sopping wet pussy, pushing her closer and closer to the point of ecstasy with every suck, every lick of her cunt.

He moved his hands up her body until he was groping her pert tits, Kylie's thighs pressed against his ears, but he could still hear the whimpers emanating from her mouth as he pushed her ever closer to climaxing with his mouth. And for Kylie, feeling his hands on her breasts, squeezing them, only intensified the growing feeling and warmth in her nineteen year-old pussy. He was devouring her.

"Right there," Kylie whispered, unable to hold it back. She felt like she was truly submitting to him by enjoying him eating her out. His licking intensified, his tongue brushing her clit over and over, and Kylie knew she was perhaps only seconds away from orgasm.

And then it happened. Just a few more licks of her clit and Kylie felt the wave begin, the tingling in her ears, and the warm sensation quickly spreading from her shoulders down to her now dripping wet snatch. Her back arched, pushing her pelvis up towards his mouth, and what felt like an explosion started in her clit, the intense pleasure spreading down her thighs and up to her stomach and the rest of her body, Kylie crying out as her climax enveloped her in ecstasy. It lasted for about ten seconds, Mr. Foster's mouth still affixed to her pussy, and then finally it subsided, Kylie lying back on the couch as he kissed the insides of her thighs again. She didn't know what to think; she certainly hadn't expected the weekend to start with her experiencing such a mind-blowing orgasm.

"You taste so good," he said, his face still inches from Kylie's wet, juicy cunt. "And now you get to see how I taste."

The butterflies suddenly returned to Kylie's stomach, along with the thoughts that she was crazy to have agreed to this. But she knew it was far too late to turn back now.