by CELENE CAREY
I hung up.
BOOK 55
Controlling Her 5
Older Man Younger Girl Short Reads Series
Dominated Unprotected Bare & Fertile Taking
Kilie Sams
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Kindle Edition
Copyright 2015 Hardcore Erotica Stories
Published by Hardcore Erotica Stories
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First HARDCORE EROTICA STORIES Printing April 2015
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure inventions of fiction.
Guilty Conscience
Veronica
I’d been ignoring Bill for two weeks now, ignoring my body and the frequent dreams as well. Ignoring the fact that Jonathan had been getting suspicious of everything. I could see the trust dying in his eyes when he looked at me. He was leaving for Ochi in a few days- three days to be exact. It was Wednesday, and Saturday morning he’d be leaving early to cover the wedding of some minister, beach side. It sounded great, he should have fun, he was excited by the scenery he was expecting; I bet he’d take some great shots, after all he was going all that way. I left for work the usual way, making his breakfast and leaving it in the microwave. We had gotten so routine over the years, I knew by mood what he would feel for. I knew if we had sex twice the night before he’d want oats the next morning, a big pot mixed with half a tin of condensed milk. And a sandwich to go with it and a mug of fever grass tea, the only tea I could get him to drink.
I was having an internal warfare, like COD, like Battle LA, like Dante from DMC “Slaughtering my Demons.” Inside my chest was altercation after altercation. I showered, touched myself where Bill had touched me, and regretted remembering how good it felt, regretted giving in, ashamed of myself and how weak I was, how stupid I was. A very big part of me wanted to confess, told myself that if I did, Jonny and I would work it out like we always did all of our other problems. But this was my problem. Not his. Maybe I was his problem, since I was supposed to belong to him. But the logical part of me kept me quiet. I couldn’t risk losing him; Maybe I wasn’t completely happy, but I was comfortable and that’s all that mattered. Marriage was hard work. We weren’t married, but I know it wouldn’t be hard with Jonathan because he’d try and help me all the way. It was going to be a long weekend when he went away.
Surprisingly, Bill called, and he called, and he called some more, kept calling, and texted… I didn’t even bother to check them. I knew if I heard his voice I would be running back into the arms of danger with my tail tucked between my legs. I was still unsure. With Jonathan’s suspicions came less affection. I’d begun to get lonely and I had been fighting my urges. I had less urges now. More dreams, but less urges. Some night’s he’d cuddled me, but if he woke up he’d roll over as if he smelled a different man on me, as if he could smell the guilt pouring from my pores, as if he’d seen another man’s fingerprints on my frame.
“You’ve been acting strangely, why?”
“What? What you talking about?” I hadn’t expected such a direct question from him. He was never that direct, unless he had something to prove. What did he know? What did he hear? Worse, what did he see? Did Max see Bill and me and tell him? Or was it one of his other friends? My head was spinning. He just looked at me.
“I’m fine baby, must be the end-of-the-year stress that I’m going through.”
That was a poor excuse; Jonathan knew me well, and he knew I did great under pressure. I wanted to eat the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. He knew I was lying… or was it my conscience? He walked out of the room.
Lunch time finally rolled around and I looked at my phone- two missed calls, one from Bill, one from mom. Middle of the day? Mother’s must have an extra sense, two text messages. I didn’t bother reading, I knew they were from him. I hit “clear inbox” and took my tray to a corner table, sitting on the chair closest to the wall. I looked over my plate: vegetables, no dressing, chicken tenders, and a slice of boiled pumpkin. It wasn’t the best mixture, but I was a picky eater, especially with our staff canteen food. I made it up with an apple. Biting into my apple, I sighed. Looking up, I saw Sophia waving to me; I waved her over, a little company couldn’t be so bad. Though I called her a young woman and I was barely 23, she was 19 years old, fresh in the working world, and looked up to me.
“Hey boss lady.”
I wasn’t her boss. I always told her that, but I wasn’t in the mood. I gave her a short “hi” back, the most pleasant welcome I could manage.
“About our target, I was thinking, maybe you could teach me to write the report.”
I looked at her and she shyly smiled at me, my dead face expression that told her all she needed to know in that short space of time. I was not in the mood.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked sweetly, “The pressure getting to your head?”
I shook my head, I’ve been handling this pressure for over a year. I was immune to it.
“Then what is it?” she inquired.
No answer.
“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure a strong respectable woman like you can overcome it.”
She was as genuine as they came, young. I was the fake one- older, wiser, wise and very fake. The last thing I was a respectable woman; her kind words made me ashamed to even look at her innocent face. It was a facial expression I had perfected, a fake one. I wanted to be real, bare; I wanted someone to talk to who wouldn’t cast a judging eye. I knew who I had to go to, the closest thing I had to a sister: Becky.
Sophia and I sat and talked about lots of different things, music videos, and the guy in Systems that she liked, I even alluded to my boyfriend issues. Even if I talk to Becky, I can’t tell anyone at all the kind of girl I had become… sucking dick in public because the man said so. Yes, I wanted to, but only wanted to be because he told me to. Or maybe I really did want to. Maybe I was all the slut I was and I shouldn’t blame Bill. He didn’t force me; I had the power to stop. And I had been the one who was eager to fuck him at Ray’s. Maybe Bill brought out a part of me that I always knew existed. Maybe he was, in fact, only a vessel. I hadn’t wanted him, I wanted the control, the control I didn’t even have on myself. Routine wasn’t control, it was choiceless. I needed to give myself, unwillingly, but was it all willing? Had I given myself to him unwillingly, willing to my desires, but unwillingly to my needs? It sounds stupid, but it makes perfect sense to me. How could I have been so stupid? When I think about it, I realise that Jonathan deserves better than me.
I left for Black Ivy, it wasn’t open mike night, but I needed to get away; maybe the bad Karaoke would cheer me up. I left my phone sitting on the dresser, I didn’t want Bill calling. I needed to wean myself off him as this ache grew and grew, before it grew out of control.
What Happens in the Dark
Jonathan Matthews
Veronica was my life. I loved her with every fibre of my being. We had our challenges in the beginning of our relationship, like every young couple I presumed. She wanted things I couldn’t give to her. I was way more reserved, she was outgoing; I gave her all the love and affection I could, all the attention when I could. Moving in with her had been terrifying for me, but, Veronica was a darling, she was a joy. She was beyond perfect, an angel who I sometimes felt I did not de
serve. Whenever I prayed I was thankful, she was my reason for smiling at the sun. I met her and never saw this coming, any woman expecting to know they’ve met the right guy right when they’ve met them will probably meet the right guy and walk by him. I knew she was the right girl. Sigh… Despite how things were going.
Week after week things were changing. Not for the worst, but I was unsure if it was for the best. I’d left for two days and come back and she’d felt like a different person. She’d laugh at things I didn’t understand…or was that always there, but I just began to notice? That happens, when you notice one thing that’s wrong or one thing that annoys you and, suddenly, you begin to notice all the things that are wrong and all the things that annoy you. In a relationship or not, I wasn’t one to dwell on the bad things. But some things I just couldn’t miss. The fact that her phone has been ringing more than usual, the fact that someone calls and she doesn’t answer. At first I thought it was her mom; she never told me why she reacted the way she did to her mother. But I realized the day her mom called and I’d been the one to pick up- Veronica wasn’t home, I actually didn’t know where she was.
The thing that struck me the most was the way she began to speak to me. She was developing a “you’re not the boss of me, so don’t try to tell me anything” attitude. Where did that come from? I had no idea who she was becoming, maybe I just didn’t know her from the start. I stopped the thought. Veronica was the love of my life, I was having my doubts but I will not doubt who she was to me. Veronica was my Veronica, and I was not going to lose her to whatever this was.
It was getting stressful; she acted like two different people and I’m sure she didn’t realise it. She was apologising too frequently; she was wrong too frequently. We’d argue over stupid things. She acted more insecure, way more insecure, though I never saw why; Veronica was incomparable to any woman in my life, any woman I have ever met. There was no competition. Not now, never was, never will be. I’m not soft; just know that when a man is in love, he’s just in love and his love is unmoveable, she will forever stay loved.
The other thing was, the way she started to act during sex… she was always a talker, I preferred to have eye contact, and listen to her breathing, but she’d broken me into talking to her. Things were changing. She’d gone from “Give it to me, do you like giving it to me?” to “Call me a bitch, am I your dirty little bitch?” At first I was shocked, then I remembered she watched a lot of porn, and under her influence during sex, she could get me to say almost anything. She’d let me put my thumb in her ass. Which I always wanted to try, but she’d always turned down. Was this something good? The moment it happened, I didn’t think about it. She wanted me to be more aggressive with her. I knew she liked that type of thing from the beginning; I knew ever since I tore her panties off her one day as we tried a quickie in the early morning and it turned into us calling in sick for the day.
***
I like my job. I was pumped about this weekend, today was Friday and I’d be leaving for Ochi tomorrow; my bag was packed and by the foot of the bed waiting for me to leave. I wanted to take Veronica with me; a trip out of town might be just what she needed and she had a few casual days she could take. I’d be working, but just for one night. I sighed, what was really going on? She’d been so tense, agitated, she’d look so guilty of something, what had she done? My mind kept running circles around what she’d done, did she lose her job and left, pretending to go to work every day? Had she cheated? Did she finally have sex with Becky? What happened? I saw the way Becky looked at her, I knew Veronica was straight but Americans were different. She considers herself Australian since she’d been here so long, but the way she spoke, the way she dressed, the way she walked, her curly hair she’d always have to iron straight, said different. The way people saw her and assumed she was privileged said different. Our car and apartment said different. Which was what she wanted. We could afford somewhere uptown and if we couldn’t, her parents could help, my mom maybe couldn’t, but I know Mark and Lucinda would. Well, maybe I should only count Lucinda. Her mom was a very sweet lady, like my own. We’ve spoken once or twice and each time she’d warned I’d better take care of her baby or she’d fly here and castrate me; each time I laughed, I couldn’t possibly imagine hurting Veronica. She was so sweet, so beautiful; I’d never break her, she was my future wife. I knew she was wife material from the very day we met at UWC.
I laid in bed, thought too much, shook the thoughts of Veronica and another man from my brain, and got my laptop. I relaxed, went online, watched some anime, and felt myself dosing off until the sounds of “You make me feel like” and “Oh yea yeas” woke me. Veronica hadn’t taken her phone with her. She’d been going to Black Ivy more and more, not staying home; I vaguely wondered if I was her problem. She never hinted to such, just kept things to herself. Now I realised, there were things. We needed to have a serious talk and soon. I wasn’t going to lose her to whatever this was. I answered, remembering the caller ID from a few weeks ago as being a Mr. Hilton.
“Hello?”
“Who’s this? May I speak to Veronica, please?”
“Excuse me? Veronica’s not here. And you called this phone, I get to ask the questions. Why are you calling her so late about work?”
“I don’t follow, sir. Who told you what I was calling about?”
“I won’t disrespect you, but it’s not polite to ask ‘who is this’ just like that, like it’s your woman’s phone. This is Jonathan.”
“Okay, Jonathan, tell Ms. Blair we had a lovely chat and that she needs to call me and soon.”
I didn’t reply. Who the fuck was that? I didn’t like the tone in his voice. He was damn disrespectful. Who the fuck asks “who’s this?” I’m sure everybody knows Veronica has a man. She wears her promise ring, never takes it off; it was a birthday gift a few years ago. It looks like an engagement ring, actually was an engagement ring, she just didn’t know it was real. The phone vibrated in my hand. I swiped to the right, One Unread Text Message…You have three unheard voice messages. Out of anger I dialled and listened. The first one was from her mother. I skipped. The next, the sound of his voice again made me see red. I felt like I was going to burst. “You need to call me.” It ended. Holding my breath I deleted it. Skipped, waited for the number to play out, and listened for the other. My heart stopped; I’d never been so unsure, so frightened, so angry in my life.
“Veronica, I do not expect this of you. Don’t play with fire. You know better than this. You belong to me, your body and mind know this. Whatever trick you’re playing on yourself will not work. You can’t change what happened between us, there’s no turning back. You can’t hide how you reacted. It’s a short time before you can’t hold out anymore. You cannot play me, nor play with me. There will be firm consequences for your actions. I will punish you, but you know what comes after your punishment. I will please you. You ignoring my calls can be classified as disrespect, however if you ignore this message you know exactly what will happen to you.”
“What the fuck did that mean? What was he talking about? What did he know about Veronica’s body? This couldn’t be real. I replayed it a thousand times, listened to every word. He was serious; he said all the things I heard the first time. I replayed it, expecting it to change, my ears had heard wrong. This was a game or a trick. No, this was real life, and Veronica cheated on me. With what sounds like an asshole that she was now avoiding. Bitch! My anger boiled over and I hit the vase standing on the dresser into the wall. It shattered. I grabbed my bag and I was out the door, steam probably coming out of my ears and my face blood red. By I got to the car I felt tears going down my face. Tough men don’t cry. But I knew I wasn’t that kind of a man. I was a man in love with an unfaithful woman.
I sat in the car and didn’t leave the drive way. I calmed down with time. Maybe he was a psycho, maybe I was being dramatic. I breathed, felt like I was suffocating. I got out of the car, slammed the door so hard I heard the glass rattle. I walked back an
d forth up the side walk, talking to myself like a mad man. I was a young man who made it uptown- from nothing to something. Well, not really nothing. Not really something, not really uptown. I had it together, though… there wasn’t a thing I couldn’t give Veronica that she wanted!
How the fuck hadn’t you seen this, J?
How could Veronica really do this to you?
Where the fuck did she meet this asshole?
How long now has this been going on?!
All these questions were running through my mind; I was tempted to call the man and ask him all my questions. But a man like me could never let another dude know I was crying, worse still, the very same dude that stole my girl. I felt myself getting even more upset. More angry. Then I calmed down as my subconscious buried my desire to see the fucker dead and buried somewhere only the devil could find him. I was on the sidewalk for what felt like an hour, but which worked out to be just half that. I went upstairs, swept the shattered glass to the corner of the room, put Veronica’s phone exactly where it had been, put my laptop in my bag, got a few more things, and left her a note that said, “You really should check your voicemails, clearing your inbox isn’t the only thing you should’ve done. While you’re at it clean up my heart. It’s in the corner by the bed.”
I left one night early; it would be a long drive. I didn’t want to hear music. It would only fuel my anger and all the other songs would remind me of Veronica. Half cursing, half crying, I drove out of the driveway headed for the highway. 10:37 pm the clock said. Soon enough the highway was as empty as my heart. I never knew something that, from hindsight, could seem so minuscule would hurt so much. Who knew a man could be so heartbroken or feel like his world was shaken so much because of the betrayal of a woman? A woman. I guess I knew I was never a gangster. If I was some other guy Veronica would’ve gotten home to a good beating, but I just wasn’t that guy. Couldn’t be that guy. Not after..., no. This was just too much for me. One soul didn’t need to harbour this much pain or be this scared. Fuck that.