by Aven Jayce
He pulls me out of the room and I’m pushed down the hall to his office where he slams and locks the door.
“What the fuck, Mark? Is it that hard to keep your lips off women when you fuck them? I’m starting to second-guess bringing you into this company. Maybe you need to go home to your pretty little wife and die an old man with your face puckered like a fish. Smooch, smooch. I hate that shit. You look like a dumbass. Stop wasting my money and get the scene right the first time.”
“She’s nervous.”
“Too fucking bad, she’s not here against her will. She signed up for it, now fuck her, don’t turn this into a love scene. This is about making money, nothing else. If this is too complicated for you or your mouth to handle, pack your bags and go home early. I don’t need you around for an entire week if all I’m gonna do is babysit your ass.”
My hands cover my limp dick, hiding it from the bastard. According to him, kissing and losing wood are two signs of weakness in a man.
“You’re trying to buy a new house, right? That’s why you came this time. Your wife’s been nagging you? One week, Mark. A week and I’ll help you out, but you gotta play the game. Fuck, are you soft?” He stares at my groin and shakes his head.
“How can you expect me to stay erect when I’m carted to your office and bitched at.”
Shit, I know that look. He’s furious... about to do something that makes me feel helpless, to show he’s in control, the man owns me. I’m not his son... I’m his property.
He hands me a shot then fixes one for himself.
“Show me,” he says.
“What, my dick?”
“That you can get it up.”
“Get real. I’m not yanking my cock in front of you.”
He places a call then points to a chair. “Sit,” he says. “Someone’s replacing you for the day.”
I’m fucked.
“You like being here?” he asks.
“Most of the time. I like the money I’m bringing in. It’s triple what I made at my old job.”
“And you understand this is a business?”
I nod.
“So if I ask you to show me you can get it up, stroke it and show me, don’t mouth off. The cunt in that room is my money and so is your cock. It’s a business.”
“I’m not feeling well.”
“You’re fine.”
“Did you put something in that shot?”
“You’ll only be out for about an hour. When you wake, don’t try to force your lips open, you’ll tear the stitches. I’m shutting your mouth for you since you don’t know how to do it yourself. It’s the only way you’re going to learn to keep your lips off women. I’ll take the stitches out tomorrow.”
“I promise I won’t...” My vision blurs and I slide out of the chair. “Dad.”
“Kissing makes you susceptible to a woman’s control. You’re the man in those rooms, Mark, it’s time to act like one.”
“Hot...” Julia’s flush, “you can’t tell me that kiss wasn’t enjoyable.”
“Give me a moment to use the bathroom,” I say, locking her out without mentioning or even remembering the kiss.
Duct tape was covering my mouth when I woke up in my Dad’s office on the day I was drugged. He could’ve stitched it shut, but he didn’t. He wanted to scare the shit out of me instead. The more I was afraid of him, the more control he had over me. That’s what he did to everyone in his company and eventually I was so brainwashed I could barely function in the real world. I stopped fucking my wife, but stayed in the house because of my son, which probably did him more harm than good. And it’s no wonder I’m an abusive fucker like my dad.
I touch the stubble on my face and raise my chin, feeling the area of my jugular vein while admiring the rest of my body in the mirror. I need to stay fit until the day I die. If my abs or dick ever goes slack, I’ll cut this vein and end my life.
“Mark? Every time I’m here and you lock yourself in the bathroom, something ends up broken or you hurt yourself.”
“Get dressed, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I am dressed. What are you doing in there?”
“Just read the paper or something and give me a moment alone.”
She sighs as I clasp my watch and fix my hair.
“Guess what, Dad?” I say softly. “I’m about to spend inheritance money on this woman. Yes, a woman. Some of that money’s probably from my dick anyway, so I have every right to spend it however I see fit. I worked my ass off for it - literally. And since you’re dead, there isn’t anything you can do about it besides haunt my mind. I can handle that, but I bet you can’t. I hope you turn in your grave when I buy her new clothes and jewelry.” I lean closer to the mirror and grin. “And if I want to put my lips on hers, I’m gonna fucking do it. I don’t give a shit if it makes me weak, or if I lose control and cum instantly because it feels so good, or if it’s an act of love and unacceptable to you. Your heart’s no longer beating and shit no longer flows from your mouth.”
“I’m worried about you,” she says. “What are you whispering?”
“I bet you didn’t even have a heart inside that cold body of yours when you were alive, and sometimes I wonder if I’m the same way, or if there’s a small chance mine may be able to beat again.”
I open the door and walk past her, getting dressed and then dragging her by the arm down the stairs.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“I want to clear out your storage unit so you can get settled in your room. Then we’re going shopping for the things you need and have done without, and then we’ll continue shopping for things you don’t need, but that I want you to have, and then we’re going to talk, and then we need to fuck some more.”
“You’ve always gotten your way, haven’t you?” she asks as I put my arm through my shoulder holster and cover my gun with my sport jacket.
“Actually...” Turning back I see the photo of my son over the fireplace. “No, I haven’t.”
DISCHARGE
My son knows what a shitty father I am. He tells me on the phone once a month that I suck moose balls and he hopes I rot in hell. When he was born, I told myself the age-old lie that I was going to be a better parent than my father was, but I’m just as horrible.
My son’s a teenager now, and even if my wife agreed to fly him out for a visit, he wouldn’t want to come. I deserve that and I’m proud of him for telling me off. Treating me like shit after all the years I ignored him and his mother is just fine. I send my monthly child support and sometimes even tell him he’s a little prick for mouthing off, knowing our relationship is in a fast decline. He doesn’t listen to me anyway. My words are meaningless.
Sometimes I’m bothered that I lost him, mainly because I hate to lose. I’ve offered to give him a couple hundred bucks to come for a visit, but “It’s not enough,” he says. I’d hate to have to bribe him with a grand. Dumbass kid.
Although my money can’t seem to buy my son’s love, it can buy other things.
“I have a king-size bed and a kitchenette! I feel like royalty.” Jules grins in delight.
“So the room’s big enough?”
“Are you kidding? It’s like a castle compared to my car.” She steps away from the window and admires the curtains I bought to make the room feel more like a home. “And I even have the Jameson Hotel signature flowers on the dresser.” She sniffs the Mariposa lilies. “It’s perfect!”
I lean back in the desk chair and study her movements. With quick steps, a budding smile, and her eagerness to unpack her new clothes, I’d say she’s on cloud nine.
“Now that I’ve talked your ear off about my family and childhood, it’s your turn to open up like you did this morning. I need to shut my mouth for the rest of the day,” she says. “It’s your turn.”
I take off my coat and place my gun next to the television, then slip out of my shoes and unbutton my shirt. “I can tell by your expression how happy I’ve made you and it�
�s obvious you’re even happier now that you know I’m staying here for a while.”
She blushes. “I am happy, but I’m wondering if you find me bland because I own so little? I have clothes, accessories, and books, but my apartments have always been furnished, so I don’t have anything of substance. I could tell you were surprised by the size and contents of my storage unit... you know what? Forget it. I just answered my own question. I know I’m mediocre. That’s okay. I have years ahead of me to change that.”
“I love how your mind works,” I laugh. “You process your own questions before I even have a chance to respond. And you seem satisfied with your answer, even though it may be different from what I was going to say.” My fingers run over a box as she places a sweater into a drawer. “Our day was a heck of a lot easier than I imagined it was going to be. I thought we’d be making four or five trips with my truck and was worried I’d have to put you in a larger room, further away from my suite. If anything, what you own makes me feel at ease. And if it doesn’t work between you and me, I can dispose of you and your things quite easily.”
“Smartass,” she says under her breath. “Are you gonna tell me more about yourself like I asked or do I have to listen to you being a dick until I finish unpacking?”
“Why don’t you ask me what you want to know? That way I won’t make the mistake of telling you something you don’t want to hear.”
“Alright, tell me more about your family.”
“Very well.” I put my shirt on the bed and pull off my belt. “My mother tried to commit suicide recently and she’s in a psych ward. It’s the fifth time. My sister has a house in St. Louis with her alcoholic husband; they own a wine bar. My father got a well-deserved bullet in his head and he’s six-feet under. I took over his porn company for a while, but sold it after my divorce. My ex moved back to Philly with my son. It’s our hometown... but, our relationship and the entire marriage was nothing. I was fucking her on and off for years, but the two of us were just friends. Then she got pregnant and decided against an abortion. I was young and ignorant, and she wanted to get married. I should’ve walked away. There was never a romantic moment between us, just loud sex that was cold and heartless.”
She stops unpacking and closes her eyes. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding that the porn was the simplest thing to discuss. I don’t even know what to ask you after that.”
“Keep it simple.”
“Okay, where’d your sister meet her husband?”
“That’s complicated.”
“Why? Was she a porn star too?”
“Not by choice.”
“What? That was supposed to be a joke. Your family’s fucked up! Didn’t you ever have a Sunday dinner together or go to the park, or on vacation, or anything with one another?”
“No.”
She stands and places her hands on her hips. “Don’t you crave normalcy?”
That one throws me off guard. “I’ve never really thought about it before.”
“Think about it now.” She takes off her clothes and points to the bed. “Sit.”
“Yes, my sexy domineering one.” I drop my pants and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Mark, look at me. I’m pretty damn normal.”
“You’re the furthest thing from normal,” I say, straight-faced with her hand in mine. “But if you insist that you’re normal and you want to know if that’s what I crave, then the answer is yes.”
“You’re agreeing to everything I say just to get laid.”
I nod. “Is it working or do I need to take another approach? It hasn’t been easy being a gentleman today, especially after last night. And Jesus,” I shake my head, “when you were trying on clothes, all I could think about was how quickly I could rip the damn things off and fuck you again. My cock was a mammoth most of the day.”
Her head tilts and she flashes a sarcastic smile. “Thanks. Glad to know my first time with a guy in the backseat of a car was as meaningful to him as it was for me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whisper and run my hand down her back.
I take a moment to inhale deeply, smelling the cherry scent still on her wrists from the body lotion she sampled earlier.
“I need my flesh inside of yours so I can be one with you,” I finally say.
“Better... but you still sound like a typical guy in the books that I read.”
“Are you comparing me to a fictional character?”
“You could be the poster child for those men.”
“What the fuck does that even mean? Is that where your desire to be whacked in the ass comes from?”
“Maybe,” she laughs.
I pull her playfully to the bed and lie next to her, placing my hand on her taut stomach while my legs lock around hers.
The fuck in her car was selfish on my part, not to mention how restrained I felt in the space. Fast too, embarrassingly quicker than my usual twenty-minute run.
“I want to try something, if that’s alright,” I mumble, unsure if those words were meant for her, or me.
“As long as it’s not painful.” She faces me and rests her hands under her head with an expression of trust. “Make it fun for both of us.”
Where do I even begin? I don’t want to come across as a pansy ass to someone who’s only experienced my commanding and abrasive side in bed. And I’m assuming she likes it that way or she wouldn’t be here, so why fuck with what we’ve got?
Her lips tighten, unable to mask her enthusiasm while her face flushes in arousal. “It’s nice being here in this soft bed next to you. Your blue eyes are full of life for once and your voice sounds frisky. It’s exciting. You’re exciting. Tell me what you want to try. You know I’m up for almost anything.”
“Give me a second.”
“Don’t you dare disappear into the bathroom again.”
“I need the condoms we bought today.”
“You mean the boxes of condoms we bought.”
“I plan on using every last one of them too.” I roll one on and rigidly inch over top of her. “If you don’t like this, stop me. I can always go back to something you enjoy, like the belt.”
“Enter slower this time, please. It hurt a little last night,” she requests.
“I will,” I whisper. “I’m doing everything differently tonight.”
“Why?” she speaks quietly and wraps her legs around my hips.
“Because... do you think I’m cruel, Jules? Punishing? Selfish?” My arms rest next to her head as I stare into her eyes, waiting for an answer. Nothing. She’s dead silent. “What about heartless?”
Still nothing.
“Can you feel this?” I rub my tip around her clit. “I never have a problem getting it up for you. Look at me... look... watch my face. Feel me sliding inside... gently... feel it... fuck, you’re slippery wet for me,” I say softly, while keeping my eyes focused on hers. “I’m almost in. Take me... accept me.”
“Mmm.” A faint sound leaves her mouth.
I drift slowly over her, once, twice, then clench my ass and push deeper inside. Her mouth drops open and her hands grab at my hair.
“Your lips are provocative. Teasing me,” I whisper in her ear. “Would they like some company?”
“Yes, please,” she whispers back.
An explosion of moans fills the room as our lips touch. I take it gingerly at first, like I’m savoring rich chocolate, letting her melt in my mouth. She bites my tongue and my chest expands in a pant while her hips rise eagerly for my cock. Thank fuck this is doing something for her.
My waist lowers to hers, putting pressure on her clit with each drive.
“You feel incredible... what are you doing?”
I cradle her head in my hands, advancing forward, kissing her mouth, neck, and tits.
“I feel like I’m on fire,” she says in a high voice.
I’m quiet now, gifting her short, gentle, and precise thrusts until our stomachs glide with sweat. Ten minutes later and both our hands are grip
ping the sheets while our mouths begin a greedy attack on one another.
“Mark,” she pants. “I’ve never cum with a man inside of me.” Her head falls back, chin up, eyes closed. “I’m so turned on. I think it’s going to happen.”
That’s for damn sure, it will happen. And I can’t believe I’m allowing myself to caress a woman’s sweet lips. Fuck, it’s good, a renewed pleasure. One that heats my body, twists my head, and has my dick ready to spit. I’m not going to last much longer.
“You’re being so... I’m not used to... oh fuck, I’m so close.”
I nudge and kiss.
“Uh,” she whispers.
Then lunge harder, getting lost in the erotic sounds in the room.
“Ohhh.”
Quick jerks and warm tongues dancing, a whisper of how gorgeous she is, and a hand under her ass pushing her body into mine. That does it.
“Oh, oh.” Her mouth is open. “I’m cumming, harder, yesss,” she says faintly. “I’m cumming.”
Her pussy tightens then runs wild with quick pulsations beating at my cock. I groan, bite her lip, hold my breath, and wait.
This is amazing.
I always pleasure myself first, shoot my load, then finger or eat a woman out to get her off. I haven’t felt fluttering muscles in ages. And fuck, Jules’ muscles are ferocious. Like a hand stoking my dick.
She trembles in my arms and all I want is to devote this moment to her, but I can’t stop my release.
A lusty sound escapes my mouth then, “Damn it... it’s coming... Christ, I can’t stop it.”
She’s over her crest but still in a frenzy as my first strong shot escapes, then the second.
“Uh, fuck.” My forehead rests on hers. I tighten my feet and close my eyes.
“Cum, cum for me,” she says.
I collapse and our mouths join, kissing while a soft light glows over our heaving bodies.
“Holy hell,” she says.
She owns me with an embrace, holding the gearshift in this relationship.
I roll onto my back with my dick drowning in a condom packed with cum. It’s pulled quickly off and tossed on the floor. I pant, staring at the ceiling, disoriented, confused, and somewhat embarrassed by my tenderness. I actually noticed her. I felt her emotions. I allowed myself to get lost in a kiss and thought it was crucial to please her. What the fuck?