by B. B. Hamel
Goddamn, I want to go back in there. I want to go in and watch her do exactly what I told her to do. I can hear her voice getting louder, her breathing getting deeper, and I know she’s making herself come. I stroke myself faster, desire and pleasure exploding through my body.
I don’t know how I kept my hands off her back there. I started out intending just to tease her a bit, but it was just too fucking hot. I had to stop and get out of there before I lost control and did something more than just tease.
Everything about Aria makes my blood run hot. She sends fire through my veins. She’s fascinating, sexy, smart, and clever all at once, and it pushes me to my limits. I thought this might be a fun game, seducing some attractive escort, but the game is getting far more intense than I ever could have guessed.
I want her down on all fours, legs stretched wide as my cock slides into her tight little cunt. I want to feel that tight, hot, wet pussy of hers wrapped around my dick as I pump myself deep inside of her. I want to tear her apart as I fuck her like an animal, listening to her moans, feeling her skin.
I want to sweat with her. I want to make her come. I want to taste it.
As her moans get loud and reach their peak, I keep pumping my cock until I come right there in the hallway. I groan, pushing my head back against the door and listening for a moment.
She goes quiet on her end, and I know she’s finished, too. Although we didn’t actually touch each other, that was one of the most erotic and intense sexual experiences of my life. I didn’t think it would go this far, and yet here I am, unable to fucking stop myself from getting off while listening to her moans.
I stand there in the hallway, breathing deep as the orgasm slowly wears off. I let out a sigh and slide myself back into my pants before lingering there for a moment longer, trying to picture what she looks like on the other side of that door.
I can see her, flush with exertion, fingers slick from her own juices. Maybe she licks them clean, maybe she simply wipes them off on her already dripping wet and useless panties.
Her nipples are hard under her thin t-shirt and she’s panting, breathing heavily, and thinking about me. She probably wants to know what it feels like for me to fuck her, maybe wants to know as much as I do.
Slowly, the fantasy passes. I get myself together and head down the hall into my own bedroom. I undress quickly and get into the shower, cleaning myself off and trying to clear my head.
It’s too soon to be feeling this way. The idea of being unable to control myself around her is a little frightening. It makes me feel uneasy, to be completely honest with myself. I want to be able to have strict control at all times, but out there in the hallway, I lost the ability to hold back.
All because of her. Aria pushes me just as much as I push her, though she doesn’t realize it. I told myself I wasn’t going to fuck her until she genuinely wants it, and I still feel that way. It’s why I’m only teasing her so far. But I didn’t expect to want to take her body more than I wanted to hold back and play my game.
As the water runs down my body, I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same thing, but the other way around. I know she’s starting to want it, really and truly want it, and I can’t help but wonder if she is surprised by that. Maybe she didn’t expect to actually want me to take her. She could still be trying to see this as just another game to play.
I don’t know what to think. And it’s not a good feeling. For most of my life, I’ve been in strict control of my situations as best I possibly can. Now, suddenly, with Aria, I feel like I’m losing a bit of that measured control and I don’t like it.
I wash myself under the warm water, thinking of her body in the other room, and wondering how I even got here to begin with.
12
Aria
I barely see him for nearly a week.
After that night with the vibrator, he doesn’t come for two days. I’m bored out of my mind, but I do my best to pass the time. I get permission on the second day from him through Jenkins to go on a short walk every day, but only so long as I’m chaperoned. Jenkins makes one of the housecleaners, a girl named Camilla that barely speaks any English, go with me. That suits me just fine, though, since I don’t want to talk anyway.
On my walk, I go around the block. I have twenty minutes to spend, and I use every minute looking around at the city and stretching my legs. Camilla walks next to me and smiles when we look at each other, but otherwise we’re silent with each other.
It’s actually pretty nice, but I wish it were Ethan with me instead of Camilla. I don’t know why he doesn’t come to see me. After the third day, he comes for dinner, but he doesn’t stay long, and we don’t play any games. We talk about his work and I tell him about my walks, and he agrees to let me have a half hour instead of twenty minutes. Two days after that, he comes for dinner again, and again the next night.
But we don’t play any games, and our conversation is simple, almost boring. He seems more reserved and I don’t understand why. He also seems even more tired, if that’s possible. He’s apologetic, and tries to make it up to me by sending gifts, but I don’t need gifts.
Although I can’t really complain about getting things. He sends beautiful dresses, jewelry, a new laptop, a new cellphone, scarves, gloves, a new coat, and a hundred other little things. It’s all perfect and expensive, and frankly more than I’ve ever gotten on my own, but I’d give it all up if he’d just come to see me more often.
Which is a strange thought. After seven days of this, with only seeing him three times in that week, I find myself getting antsy. I keep having negative thoughts, angry thoughts, and I don’t understand it.
Why do I care if he doesn’t come? That just means my life should be easier. I don’t have to worry about pleasing him if he never comes. But I am worried that I’m not good enough, that I’m not living up to his expectations in some way. He doesn’t say that, of course, but I don’t think he would. He’s a good man.
But I crave his attention. I feel silly about it, but it’s the truth. I crave his attention like a lovesick teenager or something, which only makes me feel much crazier. Maybe I’m sick. I’m not supposed to want the man that bought me at an escort auction. I’m supposed to just make him happy and collect my check when it’s all over.
Instead, I’m angry that he’s not giving me the attention I deserve. I feel like a spoiled brat, but I don’t care about all these gifts. I don’t need any of them.
I felt something during that night with the vibrator. I could see it in his eyes as he turned it up and down, teasing me, pushing me. I know he wants me, more than just sex, more than just as a pet to be used however he wants. I saw something more than that, much deeper, like he couldn’t control it.
When I got myself off, I could have sworn I heard him grunting on the other side of the bedroom door. That’s probably crazy, but I can still picture the sounds, and part of me believes he was getting himself off at the same time I was.
There’s something lingering between us and I need to know what it is.
I stand up and look at all the things he bought me. I know he’s going to come home from work soon, or at least when he does come home, he comes home about this time. So I go over to the balcony and open up the door.
Next, I grab one of the dresses he bought me, and I walk outside. I take it out of the box, take one last look, and then I throw it into the street.
I laugh as it hits the ground and I cover my mouth.
“I can’t believe I did that,” I say out loud to myself.
And it’s true, I can’t believe it. This is so freaking crazy. I could get his attention some other way, something that’s not so public, but I find myself walking back into the bedroom, getting another dress, and throwing it out into the street. This one lands in a nearby tree, which only makes me laugh.
I grab another dress and I throw it, along with a box of chocolates, some flowers, and a scarf. It lands in the street and on the sidewalk, and someone looks up a
t me. Someone else yells, but I don’t care.
I throw down more clothes, pillows, blankets, and I can’t stop myself from laughing the whole time. By the time I’m finished, the street looks like someone dumped their girlfriend by throwing her clothes out the window. People are already starting to push the stuff off to the side, and one or two things get grabbed by people that recognize their worth.
There’s probably a few thousand dollars’ worth of stuff down there on the ground, and all I can do is laugh about it. I feel so totally crazy, but I also feel free. I don’t feel any inhibitions at all.
This is what he needs, a little wildness in his life. He needs a little levity and excitement. Maybe he doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m going to give it to him. And this is the first step. This will get his attention.
If he doesn’t come see me soon, I don’t know what will work.
13
Ethan
It’s around midnight when I get a call on my cellphone from Jenkins.
“Sir, it’s the girl.”
I pause. “She has a name.”
“Aria.” He says it like he’s drinking poison. “She threw her clothes out the window.”
“What?” I say, taken aback.
“Sir, she took some of the gifts you’ve given her and she threw them out her window. I’ve sent Camilla to clean them up, but I fear she’s made a scene.”
I can’t help but grin. “Made a scene?”
“Yes, sir. The neighbors are talking.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors.”
“I thought you should know.”
“Thank you, Jenkins. I’ll take care of it.”
“Of course.”
I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, smiling but perplexed.
Why the hell would she throw her things out the window? I’m sure it drove Jenkins absolutely insane to see that, but he couldn’t do anything about it but tattle on her to me. He’s under orders to indulge her every whim, and apparently her whims involve throwing her clothes out a window.
Aria doesn’t seem like a crazy and irrational person. I know she’s bored being all pent-up in that room, and I haven’t been very attentive lately.
I sit, crossing my legs. I’m done for the night, and I know I should go see her.
But I’ve been avoiding her. Ever since that night that I got myself off in the hallway, unable to stop myself, I’ve been afraid to see her. I don’t know if I can keep myself under control around her. When I have gone to her, I’ve kept it distant, although I really just want to throw the table over and fuck her against the railing over the balcony.
I can’t put it off anymore. And I can’t let this little tantrum go unpunished. I call the car and stand, smiling to myself.
This is what she wants. There’s no doubt in my mind that she did this just to get me to react. She can tell that I’m being distant and she probably doesn’t know what else to do. I’m betting she figures if she does something like this then I’ll have to punish her.
And her punishments are so much fun for both of us.
My heart is beating fast on the ride home. I know I’m going to punish her, and it only makes me more excited to realize that she probably wants it. She wants me to spank her, tie her up, fuck her however I want. Which means I’ll have to think of a punishment that she won’t see coming.
I spend the car ride envisioning what I’ll do, and finally come up with a fantastic idea. It’s simple, but she won’t expect it at all. It’s not at all what I’ve done in the past, and that’s what makes it so attractive.
I can barely wait to see her as the car drops me off out front. I haven’t felt like this in a while, and it feels good to let loose a little bit. I know I should be trying to moderate my emotions, but I just keep thinking about what I’m going to do to her that I can’t help it.
Jenkins meets me in the kitchen. “Sir,” he says. “The girl is sleeping, I believe.”
“That’s okay.” I grab a bottle of whisky from the cabinet and pour myself a drink. “You can go to bed, Jenkins.”
“Of course, sir.” He pauses, frowning. “May I speak frankly?”
I pour myself a drink and nod. “Go ahead.”
“I think the girl is a liability. It’s obvious what she, ah, is, and your work duties are particularly sensitive now. I’d hate to see you lose something because of this... girl.”
I smile at him and sip my drink. “Thanks, Jenkins. That’ll be all.”
“Of course. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
He disappears into the back rooms. He’ll sleep here tonight, like he does most nights. He practically lives here, to be honest, and that’s okay with me. For the most part, Jenkins is discreet and honest and does an incredible job. If he speaks out of turn sometimes, well, I’ll have to accept it as one of his quirks.
I finish my drink, pour another, and then head upstairs, heart beating hard. Aria might be asleep right now, but she won’t be for long.
I stop out front of her door and softly open it, trying not to make much noise.
The room is pitch dark as I slowly creep across the floor by memory. I can hear her breathing softly in bed, deep and steady, which means she’s definitely asleep. I smile to myself as I slowly pull the curtains open, letting the moonlight drift into the room, illuminating it in soft silvery gray.
I step back toward the bed and look down at her for a moment. She’s twisted in the covers, half in and half out, one leg tossed casually over the bedding. She’s wearing a little black tank top without a bra and gray panties, cute boy shorts. I stand there, admiring her body for a second, wondering how the hell I got here.
This girl is a total stranger to me, and yet she lives in this room. I keep her like a pet and I absolutely love it, though I never thought I would in a million years. There she is though, sleeping soundly in this room, and I know I can have her if I want to. I can do anything to her right now, and chances are she’d let me.
That’s not what I’m here for, not exactly anyway. I’m here to punish her. And I know exactly how I’m going to do it.
Carefully, I take off my jacket and toss it over the back of a chair. I roll up my sleeves then slowly climb into bed.
She stirs softly as I roll her onto her back, spreading her legs. She mumbles something as I kiss her stomach.
“Ethan?” she says.
I don’t respond. I kiss lower until I find her pussy, taking a deep breath, relishing her scent. I begin to kiss her over her panties. I kiss her pussy, her inner thigh, her stomach, and I know she’s wide awake now.
I slowly slide the panties down her legs, not saying a word. She doesn’t move, but I catch her watching me, her eyes slightly wide. Not from fear, but from pure excitement. I toss her panties onto the floor before moving back down between her legs.
She’s wet already and getting wetter. I begin to lap her up, sucking her clit, enjoying her taste. I love the soft noises she starts making, almost as if she can’t help herself, like she’s trying to hold them back. Maybe she wants to try and pretend to still be asleep, as if that were my fetish or something.
I want her to wake the fuck up. I slide two fingers deep into her pussy and she gasps and lets out a deep moan. I grin at her then go back to work, fingers deep inside of her, mouth and lips on her swollen clit.
I keep licking her, nibbling her, sliding my fingers in and out of her. I listen as her moans get louder and she suddenly wraps her fingers through my hair as I press my tongue against her clit just the right way.
“Oh shit,” she groans. I begin to fuck her faster with my fingers, pushing them deep and sliding them back out. She squirms against me, writhing her hips, and I keep licking and sucking her clit as I fuck her with my fingers.
I get up on my knees, getting more leverage as I keep fucking her with my fingers. Her groans turn into full-on moans, loud and full. She says my name, again and again, and my cock is hard as fuck as I keep sucking her
perfect clit.
I can’t stop. I intended to get her to the edge then pull back, but I can’t stop myself. She’s getting louder, writhing faster, pressing my face faster as she moves her hips, and I know she’s close. I can practically taste her dangling on the edge of finally getting off, and I want it. I want to taste her come in my mouth as my fingers fuck her tight little pussy.
I’m losing my mind as I keep going, keep working her. I’m hard as fuck and barely holding myself back from taking her tight little cunt as my own. I keep fucking her, sliding my fingers in, sucking her clit.
“Ethan, fuck, I’m so close,” she moans.
I look up at her, fingers sliding in harder, fucking her deeper. “Come for me,” I command her. “Right now. I want to taste it.”
“Ethan!” she gasps.
“Go ahead. Come in my mouth, you filthy fucking girl. I want it.”
“Oh god,” she moans and I go back to work, sucking her, sliding my fingers in faster, until her back starts to arch and I know she’s coming.
Her voice gets louder, lower, and her fingers grab my hair tightly. Her whole body reacts and I don’t let up. I keep fucking her pussy though I pull back and watch her face as she comes. She’s fucking gorgeous, in absolute ecstasy, and I can barely fucking handle it myself. She comes hard and says my name, over and over, like she’s begging for more.
When she’s finally done, I slide my fingers out from her then gently lick her up again. I tease her clit and lick her pussy, sliding my tongue inside, tasting her every drop.
“Ethan,” she moans. “Please.”
“Please what?” I ask.
She sits forward and pulls my face up. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing deep. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Please.”
I look at her for a second then gently pull away from her, smiling and shaking my head. “No,” I say, and I get off the bed.