EROTICA:SHORT STORIES TABOO SEX ROMANCE BUNDLE DIRTY GROUP BOOKS (Menage MM Rough Gay BDSM Lesbian Foursome Stepdaddy Threesome Stepbrother Milf Daddy

by CELENE CAREY

  I came home and tried aimlessly to pleasure myself, but I had failed. I was on edge and had no way of release; Jonathan was still on the business trip to Westmoreland. I would jump him the minute he got through the doors. I had never been this horny or this sexually frustrated, not even after Jonny left on a one month trip. I had gone without, but now, after what happened, I can’t think straight. I’m almost miserable.

  Jonathan finally came home, three days after the incident. He didn’t want to make love on the couch; he’d pulled me by both hands slowly to the bedroom. He killed the buzz I had developed while anticipating my plan to rape him like he was a Catholic school-boy losing his virginity to a tainted nun. Jonathan wasn’t exciting enough for me. Sigh.

  This wasn’t Mr. Hilton’s fault... A part of me knew all along that something was missing from my sex life. I’d tried almost everything with Jonny: we’d re-enacted porn we’d seen, countless scenes, I even tried anal and that wasn’t going to work for me at all. As much as he was hesitant in the beginning, he’d always done what I wanted and he couldn’t win either. He was too soft for me.

  Now that I’ve met this Mr. Hilton, there’s so much I want to know about my sexuality. At first, I was appalled at his boldness. A conceited bastard with gold stuffed up his ass, I had thought. Then, weeks passed and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I dug up the Alice Walker poetry book I’d been reading to retrieve his number. After staring at his scribbled handwriting for half an hour, I pulled my balls out and finally dialled it. I hung up when he answered- stupidest thing I’ve ever done. He had caller ID, fuck.

  I let it ring and go to voicemail and when the answering machine played his message, I froze. His voice sounded so large, filling my tiny apartment. It was almost as if I could imagine his French-vanilla coloured skin against the pale green walls of my living room. All of the sudden everything felt small. My cream coloured love seat looked like a child’s chair when I imagined him sitting there. I felt like such a little girl.

  Holding my breath, I listened to his voice as it captivated me and I felt like I was wrapped in his strong arms.

  “It’s been over a week, I’d hoped you’d called sooner. I know it’s you, long-legged Veronica.”

  I thought I must have been dreaming, how did he know it was me? Then again, who else would have been so childish as to call his personal phone and hang up as soon as he answered? How did he know my name? A million questions bombarded me at once. Who was this man?

  “I’ll be seeing you very soon, though, I’m sure of it. You must be dying to fuck me by now.”

  What... the... fuck... I must have looked insane as I stared at the machine, jaw in hand. How dare this cocky son-of-a-bitch call my home and leave such a message? What if Jonny had been the one to listen to it? I was furious. I fought an internal battle to restrain myself from picking the mouth piece up and giving him a huge chunk of my mind and letting him know that I had a man who I was quite capable of fucking. But…he wasn’t capable of fucking me…and I knew Mr. Hilton would be. Sighing, I listened and ignored the moisture seeping into my underwear as he finished.

  “... Tomorrow afternoon you will go to Raymar’s at 5:30 pm sharp. Wear a short skirt. Preferably one pleated like the one you were wearing when we met and no underwear. Be discreet in choosing your seat. Do not sit at your usual spot. Wear your hair in a ponytail; you have lovely hair, but we don’t want it getting in the way. I’d prefer you sit in the corner closest to the restroom at the back... and Veronica, don’t be late.”

  He hung up.

  Was that a warning? Why was he instructing me? What man asked for a date like that?

  His voice was calm, expressionless. He’d sounded so sexy. This feeling was new to me. What was happening to me? Shouldn’t I be furious at his audacity? The truth is, I wasn’t. I was excited beyond belief. I’d called Becky the moment I deleted his message and told her I had finally called him.

  Becky was my lesbian best friend; we’d met working in the main library at UWC. She was paying her way through school to help with her scholarship and I was working to rebel against my mother’s wishes. I was there to prove to her that I could switch to literature and pay my way through college even if she didn’t fund me because I left accounting. She’d won by default; I hadn’t left accounting but I minored in literature and it would forever be my first love. Becky had been studying psychology and boarding. We’d remained friends after graduation. Though we lived opposite lives, we were still the best of friends and it was even easier to remain close friends when she moved in next door to me.

  I hadn’t told her all about my dark secret, just that I met a man who had excited me in a way Jonathan couldn’t. I’d told her about our sex life (or lack thereof). She’d tried to convince me to take a ride on the gay train, but I’d turned her down easily by pretending I thought she was joking.

  “Just make sure to carry your pepper spray and some condoms your purse and have fun, girl. We’re young; we don’t need to tie ourselves down to this monogamy bullshit! Live a little!” she’d said in her high-pitched voice. Becky was never the faithful type. I laughed to myself.

  I took a long shower and hurried to bed. I needed tomorrow to come much faster. When I crawled into bed beneath the covers, it was only just 9 o’clock.

  Business shoved along swiftly by mid-day in the firm. Sophia was a charm to work with and I probably shouldn’t have been so edgy towards her through my frustration. I checked my watch maybe twelve-hundred times. It seemed time had learned how to manipulate the human mind. It dragged along like a limping dog on the highway. By the time work had ended, I was flustered and nervous. I rushed home, took the quickest shower I had ever taken, and got dressed. I was wearing the exact same skirt.

  Rushing through the streets of the town square it dawned on me: why the hell was I rushing? I was never early for anything, much less a date. I kept men waiting. I’d know if they were worth it or not by whether they waited.

  I got to Ray’s at 5:45; I decided to take a very long shortcut just to ensure I wasn’t early. We’ll see how bad he wants me, I thought to myself. But does he want you as much as you want him? The little voice in the back of my head asked. I ignored it and shoved the door open as my stomach did a somersault to the door chimes. When I looked up, my eyes met his. I knew he was excited to see me; he had to be, he returned my call. Yet his face was pensive, wearing a flat line on his lips. As our eyes locked, though, I knew he was glad I was there.

  With my confidence and ego in the right place, I inwardly counted the twelve steps it took me to get to the table he was sitting at, closest to the restroom and utility closet. Strutting slowly, but purposefully, towards him, my ponytail in full swing, I approached with my most innocent, but-you-know-you-want-me smile.

  Before I could sit he spoke, “You’re late. Now I have to skip the pleasantries and get straight to what you came for.” He held up his palm, motioning me to stop.

  “I’m sorry but...,” I had begun to contrive an excuse, but he cut me off mid-way.

  “I don’t care about your excuse, Veronica. Step closer to me and kiss me on the cheek.”

  Was he serious? I did it anyway to get my first whiff of his Dun Hill Desire. Yes, he definitely smelt every bit as sexy as he looked. As my lips slowly grazed his cheek, I felt his hand swiftly slid up my skirt and he pinched my clit.

  “What the fuck!”

  I rarely swore aloud, mostly in my head and during sex. My voice was barely a whisper. Clutching my purse, armed with my pepper spray, I stepped back.

  “Listen to me, Mr. Hilton. I don’t know who you think you are or what kind of girl you think I am, but I’m not that type of chick,” I said in my defence, folding my arms over my chest to hide my erect nipples. He chuckled and licked his finger slowly between his side swept grin.

  “I didn’t ask you a question because I knew you would lie. You don’t have the first clue about what kind of ‘chick’ you are yet, but I’m going to show you. Like I sa
id, I’m skipping the pleasantries; you’re late, you lost that privilege. Anything you wanted to talk about, you lost that as well. What you are going to do, though, is go to the restroom and wash your hands and then go into the utility closet and kneel in the darkness. And, Veronica, before you ask me if I’m insane or ask yourself why in the world you would follow my instructions, the answer is simple...,” he paused and I felt myself holding on to his every word because I had no clue myself, “It’s the very same reason you aren’t wearing any underwear.”

  I don’t know when exactly I had become a Venus Fly Trap but having my mouth hanging open seemed to have become a new habit. His eyes glistened at my O-shaped lips and the shock in my eyes. What was I embarrassed about? That he was right and I was ignoring the obvious? Or that I was walking towards the restroom as he instructed? I looked at myself in the mirror and I didn’t recognize the face looking back at me; I looked flustered, hot and bothered. But I still looked good; I had to hand it to myself. Looking possibly as guilty as a cat burglar caught on the wire of his first break in; I looked around to see if anyone was watching me enter the utility closet. No one looked; they were either busy ordering, or tucked into a chair nursing their cocoa or coffee reading the newspaper or a book, or on their cell phone. Closing the door behind me, I resisted the urge to search for the light switch... I knelt as the tang of multiple detergents, bleaches, soaps, and polishes flooded my nose.

  Veronica, are you losing it? That fucking voice was back again, damn it. I was trying to be adventurous! Why was my mind refusing to acknowledge that I wanted to be here? Well, maybe not kneeling in the utility closet at Ray's, but I wanted this adventure, this fling. I wanted to live a little. It was the same mind that wasn't pleased with Jonny, the same mind he bored... I put a mental block up against my subconscious and better judgment and waited.

  No sooner had I won the battle with myself then the door slowly opened and he stepped inside. I felt like a child who only reached the knee of their father. This man was huge, with long legs clad in denim and black boots that would almost have made him look edgy had it not been for his black blazer. Had it been replaced by a leather jacket, he could have been riding with the hardest bikers of the century. He said nothing. He rubbed my hair, smoothed out the end, and wrapped his fist in it. Pulling my face up gently, he kissed me long and hard, longingly. When he was done, my bottom lip throbbed and so did my pussy. Putting his lips to my ear he whispered, “Do you see the bulge these little hot lips gave me? Don’t speak, nod.”

  I nodded.

  “Good girl, this bulge is yours right now. You made this bulge and it’s your responsibility. I hope you can fix it.”

  Another nod.

  “Good girl.” He stooped… played with my wet pussy, rubbing between my folds with long slow strokes. I felt myself getting wetter and more aroused. I wanted dick, and badly. He got up and slowly rubbed my juices onto my lips. He slowly used his tongue to trace the trail his fingers had left. Then, he sucked them. By now, I wanted to get up and bend over and have him fuck me. I don’t even know this man, but I wanted his cock shoved so far up my pussy that I’d feel it in my skull. Maybe it was too soon. Too soon?! Fuck that! Getting up, I hiked my skirt up. He never let go off my hair, only smiled at my braveness. I turned my back to him, bracing the wall; I said nothing, neither did he.

  He only smiled, then held my hair a little tighter and spun me around and forced me back to my knees.

  “Listen, Veronica, as hot as your pussy is, it’s not time. You can’t have this dick inside, not yet. However, I won’t starve you; you can pleasure me if you want me that badly. Unzip my pants and take my dick out. Go ahead, you’re a brave one and you want this.”

  If I wasn’t so horny I would’ve been stark-raving mad at his cockiness, but… I want his cock-iness, I thought. Sighing, I unzipped his zipper with my teeth, looking up at him the whole time. I took my time rubbing my face against the bulge, kissing it through his pants, grazing it with my teeth. Then, ever so slowly, I pulled it out. His dick was unending. It wasn’t too long, normally long, I thought, but it was thick, bulbous. The veins stood at attention, running to an almost pink head. He looked deli-ci-ooo-so.

  “I’m disappointed,” he said, as he used his free hand to ease the rest of his dick out. My mouth dropped open yet again. The only thought that ran through my mind was, holy fucking shit. He was huge. Thick, long, and beautiful, he could enter a dick of the universe competition and win gold. Seizing the inviting opportunity of my open mouth, he dropped the head onto my tongue. It was warm. Closing my lips around his shaft, I knew my mouth would be tired quickly.

  Slowly, I pushed my mouth down his shaft to mid-way. That was all that I could manage, half of the dick. Letting it out, I licked it from base to tip, getting it as wet as possible. Then, firmly grabbing it by the base, I began to work my skills on him, licking, sucking, and pumping his dick.

  “You can do better than that” he said, pinching my nose shut with his free hand, holding me by my hair, and forcing his dick into my mouth and into my throat. Trying to breath, I opened my mouth wider. Ignoring the choking noises, he angled my head to accommodate him, then right before I thought, I’m about to die, he let me go. Gasping, I dove back onto him, holding him with both hands, pumping it in a circular motion, and sucking on the head. One more deep- throat and my throat felt like it could handle his size. Bobbing my head up and down his shaft, I listened to the stifled grunt in the back of his throat. I held on to the leg of his jeans and sucked him like he was life itself. With courage, I slowly eased his dick into my throat by myself, closing my eyes tightly, and feeling him hold onto my head with both hands. I was sure he was about to start fucking my throat, when he eased it out.

  Producing a hand towel he instructed me, “wipe your face up, I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson today.” Awkwardly, he pushed his still-steel shaft back into his pants. “You’re gonna use the rest of your hand towel to wipe up that pussy, and then you’re going to walk out of the shop.”

  “But,” I interjected.

  “Veronica, I did not say you can speak. Leave.”

  Sighing, horny, confused, and frustrated I left, closing the door behind me.

  Chapter Three

  One Mississippi, Two

  Bill

  Deep breaths Bill. In, out. One Mississippi… two Mississippi. I had to give myself seven minutes in the closet to calm down. I could not afford for her to feel as if she had any control over me by making me come. I believe a man is at his weakest and most vulnerable state after an orgasm and Veronica wasn’t going to get the opportunity to see me limp-dicked and panting. Not yet, at least. Not until she fully understands that I control all things, including myself. This was going to be hard, but interesting; I wanted Veronica like I’ve wanted no one else, almost more than I had wanted Zoey before she became mine.

  I knew something had brought her to me; either she was my gold or I was hers. Maybe I should consider the fact that she might be the ultimate key to my desires. Would she be capable of handling it? Handling me? Could pretty, long-legged Veronica be the key to my four year exile? There was much to learn and much to ponder. I hope she’s not of the impression that she knows all there is to know about pleasing a man. I have a lot to teach her. Would she be willing to learn? By the way she sucked my dick, I’m sure she learnt that somewhere. She had to be trainable. She had to understand that I don’t only want her to please me; I want everything.

  She’d come across so innocent, so fragile… But, she tests my fate and drives me crazy. “How?” is the continuous question I asked myself. How was she doing this? What was so different about her… her pheromones? Claire had never come this close to me, and upon meeting Veronica, I’ve already crossed two boundaries. She was too different. I felt like a hunter discovering new wildlife.

  Chapter Four

  Live a little

  Veronica

  Is it okay to want to be someone when you know within yourself you’re
not that person? It’s a little contradicting, self-conflicting. I can’t seem to understand myself these days. Watching Ms. Fine stroll around ignoring her obvious love for her employer sent me off on an internal rampage. I want Jonathan; he is my everything, or maybe I’ve just gotten so used to having him that I can’t imagine living without him. Everyday Ms. Fine would walk around, taking care of children she loved like her own and everyone around her seemed to notice just how good she is for the family, except the man she was in love with.

  I felt like was hiding something like this. Not quite unrequited love, but something huge inside my chest. Truth is, a guilty conscience is like pulling around a trailer strapped to your ankle. Nanny Fine had been giving some joke, and Jonny had been laughing and snorting the way I had always found adorable, and all of the sudden I was sure of what I was doing. Was I living, or killing a dream I’d once held dear to me?

  I looked at him, comfy in his lazy boy, his feet up with my feet across his legs, brows knitted as he smirked at her making a fool of herself and I loved him all over again.

  “You okay?” His voice didn’t match his face. He looked so soft, like that baritone didn’t belong to him. “You didn’t laugh at that one? You love this show!”

  I did love The Nanny, but my head space had gone to my subconscious and the voice laughing at me was singing I told you so.

  I forced a smile. “Mind not here I guess”

  “What’s wrong? Everything okay at work?”

  Jonny… He always did that, showed me he cared.

  “Yeah, it’s all fine, just a little tired I guess.”

  “Come here.”

  Like a small child, I cuddled my slender frame beside his. And he held me, both of us in two complete different places: Me, in my dark secrets and him, in his relaxed home with his girlfriend in his arms. A snore escaped my lips and I realized I’d been drifting off. Looking up at him with his focus on his show, I felt guilt pin me down and numb me. I tried to say something, anything, and my mind wouldn’t allow it. Looking back at me, he missed the altercation I had with myself. He smiled, kissing my head, “Sleepy head.” His hand went up my shirt, cupping my breast, as he snuggled closer. Comfort was his weakness. I liked that most. I was always open arms for him.