Deviant Fixation
Page 39
He couldn't be bothered skimming through the headache of meeting new women. Hooking up with randoms was beneath him so far.
Albeit, Ilona always confessed her love to him, he never could return the favour of such an admittance.
In order to prevent her from nagging him to confess the lie back, he spoiled her with materialistic shįt. So this way she could fill up that hedonistic heart of hers to her delight.
It had been a symbiotic relationship, or so he thought. Until she fucked up majorly.
"Yiggy, shut up!" Grigori bellows, as he pauses playing a match at the billiards table along Huxley and Serge. "You wanna slurp at her ass, then be my guest..but leave others out of it! Get a fucking room upstairs, man."
Yigor growls under his breath."Bitch, most of us here ain't hitched like you."
"Atleast he's a happily hitched bitch." Serge chuckles as he hits his cue stick at the game balls. "Not leaping from bed to bed like you..fuckin gross..get yourself tested for std's, you walking Petri dish."
"This is a fucking nightclub.." Yigor grunts at him. "Preach your shitty holier than thou attitude elsewhere."
The stripper prances back towards Yigor's direction. Her glittery thong barely covering her waxed crotch. Tits jiggling haphazardly, with a couple of nip slips. He tosses a wad of cash at her, she twerks her derrière in his face again.
"Oh yeahh baby.. " Yigor whistles and gestures to her with his hand. "Come sit on daddy's lap and twerk that fine juicy ass!"
With a quick motion, Vladimir has fisted Yigor's collar, nearly choking his cousin. In a voice as scathing as molten steel, he hisses. "Don't ever fucking say that word in my presence again."
Yigor blinks at his oldest cousin in a mixture of fright and confusion. "Wh-what word ?!"
Vladimir's eyes narrow further, lips pressed into a grim line before he reminds. "You could have simply told her to sit on your fucking lap.."
Yigor continues to blink at him with puzzlement. Vladimir dejectedly exhales and retracts his grip on his cousins collar. He settles back down on his own barstool.
"Damn!" Yigor relaxes, shaking his head confoundedly. "Didn't know a fuckin word like that can trigger you..what in the actual fuck!?"
Vladimir evades Yigors rambling. Instead, he casually sips his brandy. The liquid burning his throat in it's pleasant poisonous way. Intensifying the natural venom within his veins.
It was beyond his comprehension, how his cousin didn't mind allowing unknown women to refer to him as their daddy.
He thought it was fucking repulsive and low. Ofcourse it wasn't his business to tell Yigor what to do, but he definitely made it his business just now when he mentioned the word in his presence.
He perceived such term should ought to be utilized in a much more intimate relation. Not with random classless wenches picked up at bars for a quick fuck.
Come to think of it, he never made Ilona in all the three years of a relationship, refer to him as her daddy.
The reason might have been her personality. It was as cold and ruthless as his. yet with an addition of rich female bįtchyness and a belligerent thirst of scandals.
But she definitely was a good fūck while it lasted. Too bad she turned out to be a traitor. He couldn't wait to kįll her when he found her.
Come to think of it, he never made any girl refer to him as their daddy...never gave it much thought either..till that fūcked up kiss with a creature he found so loathsome.
The term had been plaguing his mind since the day of that destructive kiss.
He felt the ire resurfacing within his body. His fingers clench into fists around the glass of alcohol.
He despised her beyond comprehension. He loathed her in a rage no one would be capable of understanding.
He had never perceived the kiss he had started off as an intent to punish her pristine muslim image, would end up punishing himself.
She was blaspheming his parents by mentioning them with her filthy tongue. He was beyond blinded by bloodlust to rip her little tongue out of her mouth.
But instead he did the most irresponsible fucking thing he never perceived he would. He slammed his lips against hers.
Punish her..punish her..punish her..
The words that had been consistently running through his head as he brutally attacked her over and over again. Each bite causing tremors of euphoria. Sizzling his insides out with sudden need.
Then she had done the unthinkable for him.
She had opened that filthy mouth. He tasted the heavenly drink within her.
The drink in her mouth is dirty, pure, filthy, innocent...fuck ! fuck !fuck!..her fucking mouth is full of poison..
But you want more..no you fucking NEED more...yet she pushed you away...you need it...
She had kissed back.
It drove him to sickening delirium.
Until she started shoving him away.
How can I free you, when you can't free me, kashani ?
He was incapable of such emancipation.
No..don't fucking push me away!...keep kissing back...just keep kissing back ...let me drink ..
It was jarring his mind ever since. One fūcking liplock from her, weakened his body systems.
Drove him to an edge of insanity he never desired to return from.
It only caused him to be forceful with her tainted mouth.
So fucking delicious..so fucking foul....Kashani..let me drink some more...
...you're so filthy, Kashani..so pure..let me...drink more..
Oh..and Kashani..I know your little secret...Those daddy issues...
...let me be your da-
No! His thoughts betraying him once yet again. Had this mind been an individual form, he would claw it all in a bloody pulp.
Perhaps he should bash his fucking brains out with a bat by his own hand. If only he didn't have a family to constantly defend.
Suddenly the glass of brandy shatters in his leather gloved grip. Served to obstruct him from his ever darkening thoughts.
Yigor shoved the stripper off from his lap and vaulted towards Vladimir's side.
"What the fuck?" He took ahold of his cousin's unharmed hand. His worried eyes rove over him. "What's wrong with you tonight ?"
"It's alright, I'll get Mister Nielsen another." The bartender piped in as he begin preparing behind the bar.
"It's fine." Vladimir's voice lets out roughened, husky. He clears his throat and looks around himself in the half filled club. Eyes landing on a scantily dressed pretty redhead, swaying on the dance floor.
She winks at him and lewdly licks at her bottom lip. He diverts his eyes away.
Yigor had followed his gaze and gives him a hard pat of approval on the back before howling. "Ohh yeahhh look at that fine piece of ass! Man! I got a soft spot for redheads, and if this one wasn't givin you the look, I'd be takin her home tonight and startin off a good happy New Years!"
Vladimir shrugs Yigor's hands away from his shoulders.
"She's giving you the fucking look, man!" Yigor encourages. "She wants the D! That look says she wants to get boned really fucking hard !"
"Don't share your fantasies out loud, gross fucker!" Serge chimes in as he and Grigori take seats next to them at the bar.
"Five shots of vodka in honor of each of you, for a job well done tonight and I'm out." Grigori mutters grimly. "Bev keeps calling..texting, she suspects I'm with some other woman."
"You see that!" Yigor barks, pointing a finger accusingly in Grigori's direction. "That's why I never want to get fuckin hitched! No more freedomzzz to do manly stuffzzz coz of da wifey keepin a leash on...hmm."
Grigori rolls his eyes. "Man, shut the fuck up ..you're drunk as shit..you should head home as well now."
"Home would be exceptionally nice to a beautiful loving wife and celebrate the countdown to New Years..." Serge wonders out loud, an elated dreamy look to his eyes.
"Excuse me gentlemen..I need to freshen up.." Vladimir interrupts. He heads towards the restrooms.
r /> Some three minutes later, after regurgitating into the toilet; he emerges out of the stall and towards the sink. He had been vomiting often since the thoughts of her became sordid.
Imaginings of the most shameful and humiliating kinds. Of her and her fucked up little mouth.
Disgusting..delicious.
Tonight was no different, it was a raging inner battle within.
After rinsing his mouth, he peered into the mirror. Intense eyes stared back at him under tousled locks. With moist fingers he ran a hand through his hair, brushing it away from his pale forehead.
As a young teen he used to exult over his appearance, the reason that girls would swoon by his eyes alone.
Now he fucking hated them. These eyes have witnessed far too much soul shattering desolation to remain beautiful any longer.
They were satanic looking. Some days he swore he thought he saw a very demonic being, laughing maniacally at him through his gaze in the mirror. And he had abandoned dwelling too long infront of mirrors, nor to study his eyes too closely since.
The drink in her mouth is like ambrosia...muddy and pure..what are you waiting for? Get intoxicated you bloody fool...
His reflection spoke to him slyly, reminding him what he was missing out on.
She is all alone...have another taste...no one to defend her...
He sneers at his reflection in venomous heat. "Fuck off..'
Deep down, he knew..he was growing helpless at the sensations swamping his body. Right in these very seconds, he sported a raging arousal. His pants felt like shackles over him.
Imagine her under you..writhing...moaning...screaming for more...as you slide into her ..
"No!" He growls painfully, and grips the sink basin.
Breathing ragged and rough. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to gain some level of composure. Before that dreadful kiss, he had never perceived he would behave in such a disorderly manner over a woman, let alone a Muslim girl for that matter.
She's the enemy.
This was getting ridiculous, he thought. With each day lapsing, increasingly greedy he was for just another taste. Another feel of her again.
He was in a desperate need of distraction.
◆◆◆
"Oh My Goodnesssss!!" The redhaired woman squeals as she unzipped his pants and slid his boxers down over his hard on. She's grinning extremely wide.
It disturbed him no less to witness how long her smile stretched, almost touching her ears.
They were upstairs in a private VIP room of the club. He couldn't even remember her name while Grigori had introduced them both some five minutes ago.
He didn't care for names, he just need a quick release. He wasn't looking for a shag, just a thorough blowjob to calm his nerves. Yet he suspected beforehand, no amount of his cock being sucked by any of the wenches here would completely dissipate this miserable feeling.
Kashani..It's all your fucking fault...you need to be punished for tormenting me...you've been such a bad little girl...
"OH EM JEEE!!" The redhead squeals excitedly again, knocking him out of his heated reverie.
He felt like smacking the shįt out of her for being so dimwittedly slow.
Why isn't your mouth on my cock already, you shallow good for nothing bitch !
He sensed she was literally foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. That was always an expectable reaction. Ilona had been no different.
The redhead continues admiring his naked manhood. she whispers in a sly seductive tone. "You're so big!"
He smirks cruelly, as he thinks.
Darling with a mouth that huge, you could literally swallow an entire watermelon...now get on with it wench..suck this cock dry..
And she finally takes him into her mouth, he relaxes back against the leather armchair, closing his eyes and thinking of her.
But it doesn't last for more than a few seconds till he starts hearing loud pornographic actress moans. He grabs a handful of redhair and plucks her head away from his arousal, aiming her a pissed off glare.
"Without creating that unnecessary noise!" He hisses. She obliges and swallows him back into her cavernous mouth.
Imagine it's her cute little innocent mouth..ready for corruption..humiliation.
He squeezed his eyes shut...fuck Kashani ..what have you done to me ?
He remembered clear as fucking crystal, her moans of pleasure were unlike any he had ever heard.
Her gasps were quick, sharp and breathy..lips ripe and ready for me..
Christ!!! I need to hear you again, Kashani...hear those beautiful fucking sounds you made...
The next second he made the mistake of opening his eyes, in his sight a redhead, lipsticked mouth bobbing up and down over his shaft. He could only but glower in disappointment.
There was something missing. He thought she needed to wear a headscarf and cover that hair, wipe off that horrid red lipstick and scrub away overpowering perfume.
Is this what makes you so intangible, Kashani?
So prim and proper..ever accusing..ever watchful...
He needed to imagine it's her...and she smelled like... talcum powder?...why the fuck did Kashani smell like powder?...
But there was another intoxicating scent.
Natural musk..heady..scent full of innocence..awaiting corruption ..oh fuck!
He closed his eyes again, missing in contemplation over her. Just the thought of her eyes alone gave him a raging hard on.
Dark lush, inexperienced eyes coated over by heavy ebony lashes. Accusing, saddening.
He wanted to drown in their misery.
He wanted to fúck every little fragment that pieced together into her creation.
..i know you got daddy issues...you sweet girl...
Abruptly loud female screams shatter his fantasies. He glances down and discovers his hands tangled into red tresses. Forcefully slamming the woman's mouth over his arousal in repetition.
She was screaming, struggling to release herself from the abuse.
He slackens his grip instantly. She falls back on her elbows. Gagging and crying, she flips over and hurls vomit over the carpet.
Then she angrily stumbles to her feet, staring terrified at him. "You ásshole! You nearly choked me to death!!"
She dashes out of there, nearly tripping on her high heels.
Chapter 22
Back To Sanam's P.O.V.
"Yasssss!!" Bev claps her hands in an ecstatic approval when I've almost shot nearer to the target, missing just a few inches away.