by S. R. Watson
In a matter of seconds, Diesel is looking right at me. I cross my legs and lean closer to James until he takes a seat next to me to wait for our drinks. Let the flirting begin.
I control the urge to flinch at the feel of James’s hand pressed against my lower back. He is all smiles as he tells me about his fraternity. He thinks that I’m impressed and I don’t tell him any different. I giggle at the appropriate times and rest a hand on his knee. I don’t know if Diesel can see this spectacle I’m putting on from the stage, but I hope it’s not in vain. Brooke winks at me, but I hope she knows this act is for show. I’m not interested in James.
“So what do you like to do?” James asks.
“Read.” I take a sip of my drink and bat my eyelashes. This is really hard work. How can women do this all the time? It’s exhausting.
“That’s it?” he quizzes.
“Mhmm.”
“You’re such the talker,” he muses. “What do you like to read?”
“Romance novels. Erotica to be exact,” I lie. I mainly read paranormal to escape reality, but whatever gets him going. I might as well have fun.
“Oh, the dirty books. It’s always the quiet ones. I bet you get some fantastic ideas from them.” He wags his eyebrows. “Any fantasies you want to fulfill?” What a creep…such a gentleman this one.
“No. I’m good.” I’m not going to even lead him on. Whatever conclusion he draws on how tonight is going, he will derive on his own. “So do you play any sports?” I recognize his football class ring and take the chance that he still plays.
This changes the subject, and he is all too happy to talk more about himself and football. After a couple more drinks, I can feel the buzz of the alcohol. Okay, maybe a little more than just a little buzz. I’m not fall-on-my-ass drunk, but I’m definitely heading in that direction. It’s been a while since I’ve allowed myself to drink this much. I blame James and his incessant talking. The music from the band has long faded and music from the overhead speakers has taken its place. I know their set is over, but I’m not sure what time it is. I don’t even want to think about the after show ass Diesel is probably getting right now.
“You ladies want to get out of here?” Mike asks over Brooke shoulder.
“And go where?” Yeah I’m living on the edge right now. I don’t plan on doing anything with James, but I wouldn’t mind making Diesel wonder why we aren’t riding home with them. It’s not like these guys are axe murders. They go to our school.
“I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat and then find an after hours pool hall,” Mike suggests.
“Good idea,” James says in agreement.
“I’m down,” I say getting off my barstool. The fucking floor sways underneath my feet.
“Are you sure, Lourdes?” Brooke asks hesitantly. “You look kind of hammered.”
“Absolutely. And I’m fine. Yes, I have a buzz, but I’m completely with it.”
“Okay if you’re sure then—” She doesn’t get a chance to finish that statement. Her eyes go wide and I feel him before I see him. Diesel’s hands snake around my waist and pull me to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers. His breath against my ear ignites my traitorous body.
“With these guys,” I say, pointing at James and Mike.
“Wrong answer, sweetheart.” Diesel pulls me back into him even further, and this time the thin barrier of my dress between us doesn’t miss the impressive bulge in his jeans. “Sorry to break up your plans, fellas, but these ladies came and will be leaving with us.”
“It’s the ladies’ choice,” James replies, puffing up his chest. Diesel steps around me and squares off with him. You can look and tell it wouldn’t even be an effort. Diesel would pummel his ass. This guy has to be crazy. The size of Diesel’s biceps alone should be a clue.
“I don’t think so. Her brother is out back and asked me to let them know we’re leaving. There doesn’t have to be a problem, unless you make it one.” James is about to smart off, but Brooke steps in between them.
“Uh, it’s okay. Another time, guys. It’s late and he’s right. We came with them,” Brooke says to diffuse the situation.
“Lourdes, a word please!” Diesel pulls me toward the opposite of where the guys are waiting. “Brooke, we’ll catch up with you in a sec,” he says looking over his shoulder. I double my steps, trying to match his stride. I only agree to go with him to get him away from the dumbass that was foolish enough to think he could challenge him.
“Where are we going?” I’m too buzzed for this shit. It’s becoming blatantly obvious that these heels and alcohol don’t mix, as I work to remain upright.
Diesel doesn’t say a word. His jaw clenches, and for the first time I recognize that he is upset with me. We turn into a hallway to the left. He opens the door to a dark room and pushes me in. What the fuck? Some light from the street shines through from the above windows to clue me in that we’re in a storage room.
“What the fuck are you wearing, Lourdes?” Diesel is on me again in seconds.
“I…I…” I stutter. I don’t know what to say. His voice is different—strangled. His demeanor is different too, more aggressive.
“Did you wear this for me?” His hand inches my dress up until my thong-clad ass is on display. He turns me, facing away from him, and pushes me against the shelf. “Answer me, Lourdes. You’ve gotten my attention. You’ve had it all night. I had to give the performance of my life with my dick hard.” He rubs his dick against me and even through the jeans; it’s a turn on. This is not supposed to be happening; yet I’m powerless to stop it.
He slips a hand in the front of my panties and begins to rub on my clit. My hips follow his ministrations.
“Yes.” I admit that the dress was for him. Only he has managed to awaken a woman in me that I don’t recognize—pull me out of the shell I though I was destined to reside in.
“Yes, Sir.” He corrects. What. The. Fuck?
“Sir?” I question.
“Hmmm. Now you’re catching on.”
“What are you talking about, Diesel?” He rubs harder against my clit and I moan.
“You wanted him and so you shall get him,” he says cryptically. He continues to work my clit until my juices are flowing. I know I should be putting a stop to this after his easy dismissal last weekend, but shit, my pussy doesn’t want me too. I hear him unzip his pants and it gets me even more heated. Within seconds, I feel his dick rub against my ass, and I’m dripping for it.
“Pleaseeee,” I beg. The wait is unbearable.
“That just happens to be the magic word, sweetheart.” He leans me forward and rubs my pussy from behind. His hand is soaked in my juices. He coats my ass with these juices and I immediately tighten. I suspect where this is leading. When I feel the head of his cock at my entrance back there, I know that I’m correct. I’ve never been taken there. It’s the one place that has remained mine. “Relax and let me inside, Lourdes. Let me be the first. Let me claim this ass.”
How did he know it is uncharted territory? In this moment, I want to be sexually liberated. It’s not like it’s some sacred act I need to save for marriage. I’m tainted goods anyway. I may regret this in the morning, when he goes back to ignoring me, but tonight I’m owning my sexuality. I say when and how. It’s up to me and I want to be fucked by this sexy as hell rock god.
I watch as indecision wages within her thoughts. I want her to be sure about what she is about to give me. I don’t think she realizes this is the first real test of her submission to me. This is a pivotal point. If she agrees, she is giving me something that she has never shared with anyone else. Her reaction, to my dick being in such close proximity with her ass, clued me in to its virginal status. She had the same reaction last time we fucked. I could have had the pussy by now and we could have already been out of here to meet the guys, but I don’t want that. I want her submission, and I want her to give it to me. This act will prove that she’s surrendered her mind an
d her body to my will.
I thought I could stay away from her. I wanted to. Then she came in here tonight in a dress so out of character for her, I couldn’t resist. Not because she looks sexy as fuck, because that is undebatable, but because that in itself was a hint at her ability to submit—her readiness. She wanted to get my attention—needed to show me she can be desirable. There is no question that she wasn’t into those dickfaces. The show was for me. The fact that she stepped so far out of her comfort zone for my benefit, shows that she was willing to put what she thought I deemed appealing over her own comfort.
I’m selfish, in that I can’t ignore the signs, yet I’m not a complete asshole to take advantage of her vulnerability. I don’t think she even recognizes this trait in herself. It fucking made my dick so hard on stage, I wanted jump off stage and fuck this shit out her that instant. Even now, a bead of cum forms at the tip of my dick. I mix it with her wetness already pooling around her asshole. I think I’ll burst from the anticipation when she gives me a timid nod, giving me the green light. There is no putting the fucking demons away now.
“Hell, yes,” I say in approval. “No clenching, sweetheart. Just push out as I push in.” I slip a condom from my pocket and roll it over my dick. I wet it with some of my saliva before repositioning myself at her entrance. I don’t have any KY jelly handy, so our body’s natural lubricant will have to suffice. Upon insertion, there is a slight flinch, but I tighten my grip on her hip. “Relax,” I encourage soothingly.
I use one hand to reach around and massage her clit. As she begins to wiggle in my arms, I know it is the distraction she needs. She pushes back toward me, and I use the opportunity to slide in further. When I’m more than half way in, I pause to tease her further. I place little kisses along the back of her neck.
“Uhhhhhhh,” she moans incoherently.
I push further until I’m in to the hilt. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she says breathily. I’m sure the alcohol is working in my favor.
“I’m going to move now, babe.” She nods her head and I pull out slightly before pushing my way back in. Fuck, her tightness feels so damn good. I give her a few more slow strokes to make sure that she is acclimated to the size of my dick. When I can tell she is getting into it, I increase the rhythm. I grab both hips now as I slam into her. “Your ass feels amazing, Lourdes. Fuccccccck,” I groan. I can feel a tightness in my balls already. I’m not going to last much longer. I need her to get there. I finger her pussy as I drive into her ass.
“Diesel,” she moans and I know that she is close. I find her g-spot and her floodgates open. Holy hell, she comes all over my hand and it is such a turn on. I fuck her faster until I reach my own orgasm. My dick throbs in her, and I know that this can’t be the last time. My three-time fuck rule has vanished with her. She has appealed to my demons. Now, I have to have her. Although, I’m not changing my mind about not wanting a relationship, I’m willing to loosen some of my rules to give into her temptation. She has submitted to me, and I want expose and share my kink with her.
She has no idea the door she just opened. We savor the moment for a few seconds before I slide out of her. I lead her to a restroom, here inside the storage room. I turn the water on and grab a few paper towels to moisten before handing her a few. These will have to do. We can’t both go back to the truck smelling like sex. I’m sure Xander is wondering where we are by now, but I couldn’t wait another second without answering the submission she had unknowingly given. Once we got back to the house, it would have been too late.
Lourdes shyly turns her back to me, to shield my view of her cleaning herself up. I have my work cut out for me, breaking down the rest of those walls, but I’m definitely up for it. I let her be for now, though. I wash up the best I can with water alone and tuck my dick back into my jeans. When she’s done, I lead her back out into the club. No words are spoken as we make our way to the truck.
“There you two are. Where have you been? I thought I was going to have to come in after you,” Xander says.
“Lourdes got a little sick and needed to pray to the porcelain god for a bit,” I lie. She shoots me a look of disbelief. Her eyebrows knit before she schools her face to play along.
“Yeah. I’m feeling a lot better now,” she adds.
“You’re going to have to slow down on the drinking, sis. Don’t drink so much that you make yourself sick,” Xander chastises.
“I’m fine, Xander,” she assures. She narrows her eyes at me and I smirk. Better that little lie than me tell him what his baby sister was really getting into.
“So how did it go?” Brooke asks as she joins us outside. I would have thought she would have beaten us out here.
“Don’t know yet,” Gable speaks up. “Desiree told us that she enjoyed our performance and that she would be in touch by Sunday.”
“Yeah, but she stayed for the entire show, so that’s something,” Keyser offers.
“I think you guys have this in the bag. You gave so much variety and really showed your range of style as artists,” Brooke says. Lourdes nods her head in agreement. I sure hope so. This is what we have been working toward. I can’t thank Sevyn enough for the connection.
“I didn’t think you guys were paying much attention, you were so wrapped up in those college shits.”
“Are you kidding me?” Lourdes speaks up. “We have ears and eyes. You were doing a pretty good job yourself of being wrapped up in skankville row.” Jealousy and disdain drips from her sarcasm, and I have to work hard to contain my laughter. It is almost too cute.
“Skankville row?” I seek to clarify, although I’m sure I know the women she is referring to. They’re my most loyal fans.
“You know. The thirsty women who are always front and center,” she confirms. “Skankville row.” I can’t help it. I laugh my ass off and the guys join in on the laughter.
“That’s awesome,” Keyser amuses. “Haven’t you fucked like all of them?” I swear Keyser doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up sometimes.
“No, I haven’t, dipshit. And you fuckers have tapped some of that, so shut it. Why are we even discussing groupie fucks in the midst of these women, anyway? I’m sure they don’t want to hear that shit.” I look over at Lourdes and her face is tight. She is probably already regretting her decision to let me fuck again. Gah, this motherfucker is ruining my shit. I’m going to have to work that much harder to get her to give into her submissive nature.
“Yeah, really classy,” Lourdes says rolling her eyes. She gets in the truck and Keyser falls silent as he realizes his mistake.
The ride home is full of discussion about tonight’s gig and speculation on our chances of landing a record deal with Platinum Records. I can see the girls talking quietly among themselves. I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to get Lourdes alone again before I have to leave in the morning. I have something to take care of again, and I’m sure Xander will be taking them back before I return. Even so, I’m glad we had tonight. She’s been on my mind since last weekend. The way things ended that morning was unsettling.
My thoughts have cycled through various instances of leaving her the hell alone and introducing her to my brand of kink. I know that I’m not good for her, yet the selfish part of me can’t find a reason to let that stop me. I thought I had time on my side to maybe fuck her out of my system, but that one taste was addicting. When Xander announced that she was coming to the show tonight, I knew the task of staying away from her would be challenging. Seeing her tonight in that dress and owning the room made the decision for me. I’ve never felt so out of control. My reaction to her needed to be addressed. This was submission in its rawest form. It called to my repressed nature in a way that left me powerless to fight it any longer.
I can’t give her a relationship or promise of more. There will be no illusions of happily ever after, but I can introduce her to what she doesn’t even know she’s craving, my dominance. Question is, can she handle what I’m prepared to offer? My dic
k twitches in my jeans at just the thought. This should be interesting. Now to determine the best way to tell her she is a submissive and what that means. We finally arrive back at the house, and I use the last opportunity to get a word in to her. As she climbs out of the truck, I quickly whisper in her ear.
“We need to talk,” I say.
I could barely sleep last night. My last encounter with Diesel, along with his ominous statement that we need to talk, was on constant replay. I’m back in the room where I spent this past summer, and all the memories flood my mind, including my first run in with Diesel in the shower. I look over at Brooke, who is still knocked out next to me, even though it is well after nine a.m. I guess my body just has an aversion to sleeping in. I decide to get up and grab a couple cups of coffee. The soreness of my ass as I walk down the stairs reminds me that last night did very much happen.
“Morning, Lourdes,” Diesel says from the kitchen. He is leaning against the counter, waiting for the Keurig to finish brewing his cup of coffee.
“Morning,” I say waiting for the ball to drop. What is he going to tell me? “Where is everyone?” I ask looking around. The house is too quiet.
“Either sleeping in or already left.” The Keurig stops, so he grabs his mug and empties the chamber of the used k-cup. “All yours,” he offers while gesturing toward the coffeemaker. Why is he drawing this out? Apparently he needs to tell me something, so why hasn’t he brought it up yet?
“What did you want to tell me, Diesel?”
“What do you mean?” He genuinely looks confused. His eyebrows knit together in question.
“Last night when we got back, you said we needed to talk.” He thinks it over for a second and scratches his head.