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They left the groceries in the parking lot, the cart alone and full between the yellow lines of an empty space. They drove quickly back to his building rushing to get back to the penthouse suite, to enjoy the sudden contrast from the filth and the dirt to the airbrushed, lofty heights only money could bring.
Once out of the elevator, he stopped her in the hallway, shoving her against the wall. She giggled, draping her arms around his neck, sliding against the wall so she was lower than him, looking up. Their foreheads pressed together, his fingers hooking in the elastic of her leggings.
“That really got you going, huh?” she teased.
“Shut up.”
“When you pulled your wallet out, did you think it was your dick you were pulling out? Were you going to slap it down on the checkout counter and tell me to suck it, right there in the store?” Her hand snaked into his pants, her fingers encircling the tip of his cock and squeezing.
He seized her wrists and pinned them above her head, slamming his waist against hers. Liza’s eyes widened with interest, but the playful smile didn’t leave her lips.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “It won’t work this time.”
She licked his chin. “No? What if I said I was just a poor single mom and you really, really helped me out? And that I will do anything to repay you?”
He growled, seizing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, her long legs kicking frantically as she continued laughing at him. A heel flew off, landing with a clatter on the gleaming floors. Barrett swung his hand up and smacked her ass.
“Ow!”
“You’re lucky to even be in here. A poor slut like you really should be fucked in the car and sent home.” He carried her down the long hallway to the bedroom. One of her bare feet slid against his stomach, downward until the back of her arched toes dragged over the bulge in his pants.
“Please,” she whispered. “You can tear my cheap panties off with your teeth. Just fuck me in your fancy bed, mister. Make me cum on sheets that cost more than my car.”
He spanked her again. “You don’t own a car.”
Liza laughed. “Oh you want me dirt poor, huh? Should I be barefoot and pregnant, too?”
They were at his bedroom now. He slipped the other heel from her foot and laid her on the bed. Looking at her, he licked the inside of her shoe. “We’ll start with the barefoot part.”
He grabbed her ankle and stuck her toes into his mouth, tasting the salt and tang of sweat. Her big toe had a callus on it that he nibbled with his teeth like it was a bit of cartilage on a chicken wing and he wanted every morsel of meat.
She kept massaging him with the other foot, propping herself up with her elbows, watching him with narrowed eyes. "I have bad credit," she whispered.
"Fuck."
"My rent is late."
"Yeah? How late?
"Months."
"Just a poor, little slut, huh?"
She withdrew her delicious feet and sat up, leaning forward on the edge of the bed. Her hair was still too nice; too shiny, too clean. He wondered if he could get her to work in a factory for a few shifts, get really greasy to make it authentic. That's how it had been his first time; when he was nineteen and a worker at one of his father's factories had taken his virginity. She'd smell like sweat and chemicals and wore non-slip shoes, and no one in his social class had been able to match the way she grabbed him and fucked his brains out.
Liza tugged his trousers down and flicked her magazine cover eyes up at him. His cock sprang out like a jack-in-the-box. She'd never sucked it before; he never lasted that long. "I qualify for food stamps," she murmured against it, each syllable hitting the tip gently.
A squirt of milky, over-eager pre-cum flicked out of his penis, spattering against her chin.
"You can't—" he panted, "you can't qualify for a loan can you?"
Liza slid a hand down to her pussy, rubbing her fingers against herself, pouting. "I need a cosigner. Can you do that for me, daddy? Can you help a poor girl like me?"
A visceral horniness clutched him like a hunger craving. He jumped on her, tearing at her too-expensive outfit, his hand diving into his jacket to rip out another wad of cash. She helped him out of his clothes, until they were tumbling around the ocean of a bed. She wound up on top, her hands around his throat as she sank down onto his cock. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked.
He took the opportunity to shove the money past her lips. She gagged on it before spitting the sticky wad onto his chest. She scooped it up and slapped it against his face. She began to ride him, angrily, and there, there it was! That feeling! The rawness of his first time, even though this super model smelled of perfume and luxury. It was enough; her face was streaked with spit and a thin glean of sweat, giving her a feral look. Her hands were too soft, too delicate but they still gripped his throat as her pussy devoured his cock.
"This is the last time," she said breathlessly. "I'm done with your shit." She said it through a groan, because he grabbed her hips and helped slam her down to the hilt of his dick. He kept her there. He was about to cum already, but didn't care. He felt himself release in a gushing torrent, and smiled.
"But who will cosign for your loan?"
