A Brush With Obsession

by Theresa Papa

  The sight of this sexy man mixed with the stimulation of the leather thong, along with the expectations of my role here, spur a reaction so unexpected it is like a tidal wave comes over me. My breaths come faster, and my skin flushes. My body has a mind of its own, and I move more quickly toward him. At once, I’m directly behind him close enough to feel the luxurious heat radiating from his spectacular body. His scent engulfs my concentration—ocean, clean linen, and masculine. It reminds me once again of Mr. Sexy Plumber and Nico. I have to find out what this popular new scent is. This is the third time the same cologne has turned me on. I shamelessly breathe him in as his answering groan vibrates through me. Capable of maintaining no control over myself whatsoever, I touch him almost reverently, using only my fingertips at first. I smile at the goose bumps racing across his body and the hitch in his breathing. I admire the golden skin tautly stretched over steel. I begin to rub up against him brazenly with my hands and body. My hands glide their way over his ribs around to his firm pectoral region, my breasts squeeze against his divine back, and my nipples harden. I pause here for a second to rest my cheek against his warm silky skin, savor the feeling of this magnetic specimen beneath my hands, and say my first words to him.

  “I don’t know if I should tell you this, but I have to confess this is my first time here. Please be patient with me. I don’t know what you expect, but I’ll try to make your experience satisfactory. Okay?”

  He just nods once and makes no sound at all. I take two deep breaths and finally lift my head without dizziness. When I continue my pleasurable investigation of all the yummy places I could touch, my hands travel south to explore his firmly cut stomach. I decide not to dally and go directly for payday because I’m so turned on. My fingers tease the waistband of his shorts. They are loose enough for easy entry, but someone is already eager and peeking out at the top. I steadily take hold of his magnificence with both hands, so silky, large, and firm. Then his masked head drops back, looks up at the ceiling, and he lets out a deep masculine groan. Around him, I circle to my right. I let my left hand glide along his smooth back until it once again joins my right still caressing his manhood. I edge myself between the X and his chest to face him. He towers over me with his arms suspended above us as I’m engulfed in the desire radiating off him. My nose and my mouth breathe him in, tasting him, my brain floating on the euphoria of having complete control.

  A gasp fills my throat followed by a yelp from my lips as his hands are free and he grasps my wrists inside his boxers. My first instinct is to step back, but the wood cross holds me still. He abruptly spins me and plants my arms on the wooden X above as he loosely encircles my wrists with the padded shackles. My breath catches in my chest, and my heart lurches into an excited rhythm, my entire being responding to the shock that he in fact was not restrained all this time. And now he’s cleverly turned the tables on me.

  Now my breasts press against the wood by his body thrust up against my back, his arms rise above me and create a cage around my trembling form. The heat from him sears me alive. His long, muscular body fits perfectly against my soft curves. He inserts one leg between mine, and I can feel his impressive erection against my ass. He buries his face in my hair, and he breathes me in as I did to him. I can do nothing but wait to see what this stranger will do to me in this room filled with torture devices. How in the world did I get myself into this? Maybe Olga will come back and save me. Yeah, right! How did I just go from so sexually turned on to scared shitless? Well, maybe still a lot turned on.

  My voice is hoarse with longing only one word allowed to escape.

  “Please.”

  His warm hand pulls my hair gently over one shoulder, and then he runs his tongue down the column of my throat, tasting me, taking my pulse with his lips.

  He whispers into my ear. “You are so desirable. I want to make you feel good.”

  He leaves me to retrieve an implement from the wall. When he returns, I realize that I miss the heat from his skin pressed against mine. I want his scent to engulf me and his breath on my neck again. Then he surprises me by reverently brushing my hair slowly, softly from root to tip. Somehow, I don’t think that’s how the hairbrush is normally used in this club. But it feels so decadent, and he puts me in a trance. He wants to gain my trust. It’s working!

  Once he continues in an agonizingly slow pace to kiss and lick my neck and bare shoulders, his hands unlace my leather dress. My breasts are set free when he lets the top part of the dress fall, exposing me until just below my waist. Murmurs of ecstasy fill the room as his hands roam up and down my torso. When I realize they’re from me, my fingers tighten their grasp on the cuffs. I arch my back, and our breathing increases simultaneously. The murmurs change to moaning at his contact with my nipples; he rolls them between his fingers firmly but gently. His hands knead and weigh my voluptuous globes. My core begins to ache as the pressure builds in every sensitive place within me. Sweet kisses on my neck, the wet silky swipe of his tongue on my earlobe drives me wild with chills up and down my body. My legs feel weak, and for a moment, I pull on my arms and let my knees buckle.

  He quickly supports me and whispers, “Are you all right, beautiful? Would you like me to stop?”

  I shake my head for him to continue and stand strong again. There is no way I want this to stop ever.

  At this point, this man is a force, which is so powerful I would relinquish my very soul to him. I have no recourse, no wish for a defense, only a desire to surrender to his will.

  His warm hand caresses the back of my neck, then smoothly glides down my spine, lingering for a moment over my generous rear. I inhale sharply when he pulls my hips back so I’m bent over slightly. The air cools my fevered skin when he peels the hem of the dress above my thighs, baring me. Then his knee spreads my legs farther apart. Finally, he runs a single finger down under the leather thong and carefully pulls it aside, exposing me to the room and adding to the stimulation. That same finger gently leads his hand as he palms through my layers from behind to my front. Circles rub around my nub as I am led to the brink of spectacular awakening. Then two long fingers thrust deep inside and that which felt so empty now is gloriously full.

  When he drops down to his knees behind me, he growls deep within his chest. Oh my, I’m so exposed and open to his gaze as observes my most secret places from behind. I know he can see my swollen layers and the juices that soak my thighs. Thick, pulsing desire consumes me as my whole body convulses pleasurably. No rational thought remains in my brain; there is only the delightful oblivion of my climax.

  Soft kisses alternating on my spread thighs as he moves his mouth up to the center of my universe. He presses his face into me, urging me to open wider for him, so I move my feet apart. Sensing my willingness to yield to his ministrations, he uses his thumbs to open my folds wider, giving him full rein. The hot pulse of his tongue alternating with his long fingers deep inside me drives me toward another ultimate summit. The fireworks explode behind my eyes, and the waves crash through my body with uncontrollable tremors. A loud moan of ecstasy escapes my lips in a voice that is unrecognizable even to me.

  The wicked erotic orgasm rips through my body ferociously, causing another bout of vertigo. Once again, I fade to black.

  ~~~

  Sights and sounds creep into my awareness once again, but the room spins ominously. Worried eyes peer down on me from behind the mask. I know those eyes!

  My vision is blurred again, and I squeeze my lids to try to clear it. My limbs feel like overcooked spaghetti noodles at Sunday dinner. My head throbs, and the only thing taking over my thoughts is another pain pill. I recline on the chaise lounge, still in the chamber. Before I can assimilate what’s happening, a warm blanket is wrapped around me. Then I’m gently lifted, cradled in his arms, and quickly carried outdoors. I should protest wildly. What if this is how Jennifer was taken too? But he didn’t hurt me in there; he took care of me. I feel an overwhelming connection to this man, one that
I’m not willing to break. And something seems so familiar about him, but my head is too foggy to reason properly.

  So now, when his strong arms support my body and with my face tucked against his collarbone, I decide to let him take care of me. All the pain medication must be having an effect on me. I slip into an exhaustive sleep, and I couldn’t fight him if I wanted to.

  Chapter 21

  Samantha Marconi

  “Wake up, beautiful.”

  Who the h—?

  Gentle fingertips brush my hair from my face while warm, supple lips kiss my forehead softly. I bury my face in his neck, my eyelids unwilling to open and brave the morning light. The tickle of his touch roams from my hair down to my shoulder and arm. My whole body shivers as his palms move down to caress my hip, then squeeze my thigh. They continue to stroke my inner thigh, spreading my legs and parting my delicate folds. My breath catches as two fingers thrust into me through my wetness. The meticulous flexing and swivel motions inside me make me writhe in pleasure. He moans approvingly in my ear, a low sexy growl. Strong hands reposition me onto my back and play with my naked breasts. I sigh in satisfaction and arch my back in appreciation with my eyes still closed. His lips follow his hands from one breast to another. Fiery waves of heat cascade downward as he draws them into his mouth. Wait, NO! There’s a set of lips on each of my breasts. What!

  I feel my eyes pop out like Jim Carey in The Mask. Able to lift just my head, I’m shocked to observe Mr. Sexy Plumber on my left and Nico on my right. Both men smile up at me from around my nipples with mischief in their eyes. God used the best colors in the crayon box when he created these two men. They are gloriously naked in bed with me at the same time. Wow. Their bodies are both sprawled over mine so I can’t move even if I wanted to. There’s no time to even ruminate a coherent thought as both men change positions. First, Nico cups my face and devours my mouth in an all-consuming kiss while Sexy spreads my legs wide and does the same below. The intensity of both men stimulating me is incredible, and they bring me to climax repeatedly. I pant wildly and the guys have to hold me down to keep me from squirming. I have no choice but to submit to their sensual onslaught of lips, tongues, and hands.

  “Open your eyes, beautiful. I want to see you.”

  When I comply, the most breathtaking azure eyes grin down at me. The emotion there pushes me over the edge, and I explode into a billion stars that flutter out over the dark blanket of sky. Then it turns into fireworks of all different colors of blue green and red. When that ends, I float on a cloud and slowly drift back to solid ground.

  A bright light shines through my eyelids, so bright it can only be the sun. It was just nighttime with stars and fireworks, so why is the sun up? Why are my eyes closed? Nico just told me to open them.

  I sit up, my fingers touching my parted lips. Twisting my body wildly, I search the empty foreign room, and find I’m alone, feeling sweaty, dizzy, and disoriented. This is NOT my bed! Where am I? Have I been taken like Jennifer? I have to calm down. I can’t help Jen or myself if I freak now. Deep breathing to calm myself first. Just breathe.

  I pull back the covers and discover that I am dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. My head falls back, my eyes close, and a sharp breath escapes my puckered lips. That’s a good sign.

  Instinctively, I have to go to the bathroom, and after I take care of business, I wash up quickly and fight to control my wayward jumbled thoughts. I need to find out where I am and what happened to Jen. But I have so many questions, like since when did I become a sex addict? Between the dream and what I allowed that masked man to do to me last night is beyond all reason. I’ve only even had sex with three men in my entire life. And in that hot dream, I was with two thirds of my total at one time!

  I look at myself in the mirror and groan at my disheveled mess. After a search through the drawers, I find a new toothbrush in a wrapper and toothpaste. My mind wanders again as I brush … Jason was my only long-term sexual relationship, and I would describe it as vanilla at best. He never considered my needs or took the time to find out if I was satisfied. But to realize how turned on I was last night after a stranger restrained me is kind of enlightening. But then again, he was kind and caring; he asked me if I wanted him to stop, and I somehow knew he would have, though nothing short of a natural disaster would have made me tell him to stop.

  I rinse my mouth and spit, then wash my face. As I use the fluffy towel to dry, I can’t help but remember. The pleasure I encountered was unequaled in my experience of sensory perception. I could only ponder if actually fucking him would cause an all-out aneurysm. He exuded self-confidence, but minus the oversized ego, I would call it power, a silent all-consuming power. Some of the night is fuzzy from the concussion and the pain medication, but I remember how he took care of me when I fainted. He held me so close like I was his to protect from the world. That was when I sensed no fear; I’ve never felt safer than I had in his arms. A vision pops in my head; it’s his eyes as they look at me from behind the mask. I know who those eyes belong to. He is not a stranger.

  While I shake my head, now clearer from my revelation, I find myself staring in the mirror. I smooth my long dark hair and take a deep breath, then slowly turn the door handle. I poke my head out and look around the deserted bedroom. With newfound courage, I move to the other door across the room and find it unlocked. As soon as I’m out in the hall and face the rest of the house, I know exactly where I am.

  “Thank God,” I whisper.

  There are voices in the kitchen, so I quietly creep closer to hear, but I don’t want to be seen just yet.

  “We need to figure out what our next steps will be.”

  “So far our plan has gotten us nowhere except a considerable amount of questions to be answered.”

  I peek around the corner, and the sight almost flattens me out cold. Seated at the dining table is Mr. Sexy Plumber in gym shorts and tank, looking gorgeous as he reads on an iPad. Then at the island is shirtless Italian god, Nico, eating a banana. This must all be a practical joke! Where are the cameras? Here I am with both of the men who have kissed me in the last forty-eight hours with what I thought was the intention of dating me. Why are they here together? Oh, wow! My dream is closer to reality than I thought! Is he bisexual? Was that a dream, or was it reality?

  I sit down on the step out of the sheer inability to stand anymore. My head is in my hands.

  Chapter 22

  Nico Pope

  After the phone call from Jennifer to inform me of Samantha’s accident, I call and send flowers to her at her condominium. The rest of the day is kind of awkward as Giselle fills in at the desk for Sam. Her demeanor is all business, which is fine with me. My usual day is back-to-back clients with little time for anything else anyway.

  My last client of the day is Lisa, regular Friday seven o’clock appointment. Ever since Ariana and I called it quits, Lisa has been happy to step in and fill a void.

  Giselle rises from the desk and pushes in the chair. She grabs her designer bag, locks the front street entrance, and yells back at me, “I’m leaving, Nico. Goodbye.”

  “Bye, have a nice night,” I say back to her as I walk up to the side door just in time to witness her and Lisa scowl at each other across the parking garage. But the consummate actress that she is, Lisa’s face turns all sweet and innocent as soon as she spots me inside the salon.

  I laugh to myself and reflect on how shallow some people can be. I hold the door open for her while she shimmies past me. As usual, Lisa wears a low-cut dress to show off her extremely long legs. She is stick thin with small breasts and more of a runway model's body. As I stare at her, a sigh escapes my lungs. I realize I prefer a woman with curves, one who is genuine and sweet with a voice of an angel. After she puts her bag down, her head spins around, making sure we’re alone. Then she wraps her lanky limbs around me coming at me for a kiss. With both hands, I pull her wrists from behind my neck and step away from her.

  “Ple
ase Lisa, we need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong? Are there still clients in the salon?”

  Many times, I’ve had to lecture Lisa on the etiquette of public displays of affection in my place of business. But that was not the problem tonight. I know in my heart and soul that the arrangement I have with her is done. It is best to be open and honest in any relationship. I never led Lisa to believe we were anything serious; I was honest with her from the beginning. She always said she was fine with just a sexual relationship, and we had just that. We never went out together, she would come have her hair done, and we would fuck. That’s it. Now, my interests have evolved, and my attentions are elsewhere.

  “No, Lisa, there is nobody left in the salon. Please sit in my chair and let me apply your color while we talk.”

  “What’s going on? You seem so serious,” she asks.

  I twirl the chair so I can look her in the eye.

  “The time has come for us to end our sexual relationship.”

  “What? Oh, do you mean you want more now? Because I would want that too. We can finally be a couple and do all the—”

  I put my hands up palms facing her and interrupt her sentence.

  “No Lisa, that’s not what I am trying to say to you. I want to end any romantic relationship with you,” I explain, my voice curt.

  Lisa’s eyebrows scrunch together and her head tilts down.

  “What have I done to displease you?” she asks.

  I squat down resting on the balls of my feet to bring us face to face. She looks at me with tear-filled eyes, so I soften my expression.