Sarah's shopping trip: Part 2 (Sarah's POV)

I wake up alone. I know it's just the reality of what Liam needs to do to provide for us, and I know it's harder on him than it is on me, but I still hate it. I move over to his side of the bed in order to feel the warmth left on his pillow and breathe in the smell of him for a while. Eventually, I have to get up. I go over to the kitchen, passing the sleeping Mr. Robinson on the way. I'm not surprised he is asleep given how late I kept him up last night. As usual, I put on a pot of coffee and start making breakfast for him. He has drilled into me the importance of starting the day making sure my man is cared for. I go outside and grab the newspaper he has delivered here. By the time I set his spot at the table with his breakfast, coffee, and newspaper, he is awake and yawning.

"Good morning," I greet him with a cheerful smile. He answers with a grunt as he sits down and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Too weak," he grunts, and my heart falls a bit. I try so hard but he always finds something wrong. I try not to let it get to me.

"I'll do better next time," I promise him, keeping my chipper tone as I take my pajama shirt off and neatly fold it and place it on the table. I shiver a bit since it's still a little cold in here. He never takes his eyes off his newspaper. I get under the table, which is routine at this point for my mornings, and fish his cock out of his pants. He says that this is a perfect way to practice since I can focus on improving my technique while he eats. Today, I'm going to try to focus on my pace. I take his cock into my mouth and start to suck.

"World's going to shit," he remarks, reading his paper while my head bobs under the table. "Things aren't like they used to be," he says wistfully. I don't respond, just keep sucking. I learned that he likes to think out loud, and he doesn't want to discuss stuff with me the way he does with Liam. "I'm close. Tits." I know what he means, and I pull my mouth off him so I can work him with my hands, pointing his dick at my chest. Sure enough, within a minute, he blasts my boobs with his cum, shooting his sticky white mess all over my pale, white chest. I get out from under the table, but I stand there instead of going to shower like usual. He glances over at my standing there. "Better get cleaned up. We have a long day of shopping ahead of us."

"Yeah, I know, I just figured we could, you know, practice here a few more times before leaving since we won't have a chance to do anything while we are out."

"What makes you think we won't have a chance to do anything?"

My eyes widen a bit. He can't mean... "But we will be out in public!" I protest.

"Yes, but when a man does something like this for you, it's only proper for you to 'thank' him using your mouth. You take him out of view, and show him how much you appreciate him." I stare at him is disbelief. I'm okay with doing this stuff at home, but I never thought it would leave the apartment. "Are you going to shower and change? I like how your Ginger Tits look glazed, but I'm not sure if you want to be seen in public like that."

"Yeah..." I head off to the shower, unsure about this idea of his. I mean, it makes sense that a woman should show her appreciation to a man buying stuff for her. The method is a little different from what I would want to do, but still makes sense. I'm just not sold on the idea of doing it in public. I feel a little bad about him using his money to buy stuff for me, though. I suppose if it really makes him happy...

Once I'm dressed, we head out to the mall to do some shopping. We hit up all of my favorite stores, where he joins me in the dressing room to critique my choices. Before, it would have been unthinkable to even let Liam watch me change outfits like that, but now it's kind of nice having a captive audience. He also encourages me to where the kinds of clothes I never had the confidence to try on before. Tighter, more revealing outfits. I'm trying on a dress that he convinced me to grab that I absolutely love: a dark green cocktail dress that is wayyy lower cut than I usually get with a slit down the side that J think goes up too high, but Mr. Robinson assures me is normal. I admire myself in the mirror. For the first time in my life, I look at myself and feel hot. I feel sexy.

"Damn, you look like a movie star in that dress." Mr. Robinson apparently feels the same way. "You are definitely getting that one."

I look at the price tag. "Maybe not. I love it, but it's so expensive..."

"No, you're getting it," he says sternly. "Now would be a good time to 'thank' me." I forgot about that. I look around nervously. I have been stripping down to try on outfits in here, so I know it's private... As long as I keep the noise down, nobody is going to know, and now it does make a lot more sense why I would do something immediately to earn the large price tag. Before I can change my mind, I get on my knees and start sucking him off. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I'm struck by the contrast: I look so beautiful and sexy in this dress and he is old and fat, wearing old stained clothes, and I'm the one on my knees servicing him. I quickly put that thought out of my mind. It's not like we are in a relationship, I'm only doing this to get better for Liam.

I can take about four inches of his dick comfortably without gagging, so to keep the noise low, I don't push it any further than that. I work the rest of his length with my hands, the way he taught me. Up, down, up, down, keep my hands moving, breathe through my nose: I repeat his lessons as I work. I wish it came easy to me, like my schoolwork, but I know I'm getting better. Even without gagging myself by going deep, which he assures me feels a lot better, I am able to get him close without taking up too much time. As his cock twitches, an awful realization comes over me. There is no way for me to clean up before leaving the dressing room. I look at up Mr. Robinson with fear in my eyes. He looks back at me with a grin.

"You're going to have to swallow." Fuck. I hate swallowing. I hate the taste of it. The feel of it. The way I can swear it sloshes around in my stomach. If there was any other way, I would take it. There isn't. I nod slightly. He comes immediately, filling my mouth with the hot, sticky, salty product. I keep my mouth on him until he unleashes every drop and swallow, feeling the semi-liquid mass go down my throat.

"Yuck. Why does it have to taste so bad?" I quietly wonder out loud. I check my hair and makeup in the mirror and fix it the best I can before changing back into my clothes. My mood dampened, he pays for the clothes that we picked and we make our way to the next store. It doesn't take long for my mood to improve. I love shopping so much, and I haven't gone shopping for so long since Liam and I can't afford it. I 'thank' him two more times in dressing rooms and one more time in the car.

As I wipe off my mouth after that last one, Mr. Robinson pulls into a fast food parking lot. "Oooh, I love this place! They have the best fries!" I say as the car comes to a stop.

He gives me a look. "You eat fries from here? You sure about that? Not worried about ballooning up and going back to the chubby girl you used to be?"

Years of torment flash through my mind. I have to stop the tears forming in my eyes from falling. "Are you serious? I can eat fries every now and then if I want." I'm so angry and upset I can barely see straight.

"Maybe. But you look good now. Not like the fat slob you were in high school. You need to everything to avoid getting like that again." He says it so matter-of-factly, so non chalant, like he is commenting on the weather. My eyes blur with more tears.

"No. No! I'm not going to let you do this to me! Not again. When I was losing the weight, every time I thought about breaking my diet, I thought about you. Your face. Your taunts. All the ways you used to bully me. I'm not letting you do that to me again!" I finish my outburst, my chest heaving as I pant, years of built up anger and resentment and rage all coming out at once. I imagined this so many times, telling him how I really feel. I mean, not having just sucked his dick, with three of his loads in my belly, but still... Of all the reactions I imagined him having: fear, sadness, apologizing, the one I never thought possible was him smiling, which is what he is doing now

"You're welcome," he says. "I was always helping you, even back then."

"You think you were... helping... me?" I ask dumbfounded.

"I know I was. And it worked, didn't it? If it wasn't for me, wasn't for my comments, you would not have been able to stick with it and you never would have become who you are now." I stare at him for a long time, the thoughts in my head jumbled. I can't think straight. He can't be serious. Or is he? All that anger I held inside for so long os now swirling around, without a clear target. He finally gets out of the car, and I dumbly follow him, my brain a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. After he orders, he and the cashier look to me. I look at the ground.

"I'll have a salad, please."