A Dominant Anthology

by Ethan Radcliff

  It was Sunday morning, and she needed to get dressed and ready for twelve o’clock mass. She’d done everything right where her son was concerned; bringing a man like Joe Murphy into his life would be a huge mistake. He certainly wasn’t the kind of man any child could look up to. Yet deep inside, she had a gut feeling about him.

  She took her cup of coffee into the living room, sat on her couch, reached for the remote, and turned on her television set.

  “Mommy, please put on my cartoons,” Devon asked.

  “Of course, baby, but we need to eat breakfast.”

  “Mommy, I love toast. Can I have some toast?”

  Darlene could only smile at her son. “Of course,” she said, searching through the channels on her set, when she stopped on the local news channel and listened.

  Last night, one of the most promising young boxers to come along lost another fight. He took a beating and walked away a loser. Photographers and reporters converged on the handsome boxer, and he struck out at everyone in anger. He has refused interviews, and it’s been rumored he has an addiction problem. We haven’t been able to reach Mr. Murphy or his manager for a statement.

  Darlene sat there sipping her coffee. She remembered the hype around Joe Murphy when he first started fighting. He was good, but the media went after him like vultures. There was no taking anything away from him. He was handsome, educated, and talented. He had it all, and he couldn’t have been twenty-five years old at the time. He had let it all go to his head. Darlene looked at Devon. How she prayed for her son to be successful and smart. How did a man like Joe Murphy let such a great future crash around him?

  She sighed. He really wasn’t any of her concern. She meant nothing to a man like that. In fact, she was sure he’d forgotten her by now. She rose from her seat and tucked her robe around her even more tightly. Time for breakfast she thought, trying to push aside the boxer. Yet the deep hazel eyes that showed such passion last night seemed to have burnt an image in her memory. The feel of him inside her and over her felt so right. Maybe she was delusional; it had been some time since she’d had a man. She sighed. Last night was crazy. The entire experience was insane. Then she shivered. What if? She stopped her thoughts midstream and looked up.

  “Dear God, please don’t let me be pregnant. Since Devon, I’ve given up everything in my life for him.” She stared at her coffee cup. She loved kids, wished she’d met someone she could love, and would have had more. However, that wasn’t in the cards for her, especially with a man like Joe Murphy.

  “Right,” she muttered to herself. “Like Joe Murphy would really pick me out of a crowd.” She laughed and shook her head. “Come on Devon, let’s have some breakfast,” she said, taking he son’s little hand.

  Some inner instinct told her the boxer was more than what people thought of him and what he’d shown the public. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he wasn’t a bad guy. From what she experienced with him, there was goodness there. There had to be. She had to shake Joe Murphy from her mind and body. Still, she wondered what it would be like to mean something to a man like him.

  Chapter Six

  He scanned his apartment. “What a fuckin’ holy mess,” he said, looking for a clean cup. “I really need to clean up my act,” he said, turning around to the sultry redhead who was wearing one of his t-shirts.

  She let out a small giggle. “No problem. It reminds of me of a college dorm.” Then she sauntered up to him and said in a low sexy voice, “I love a dirty place. At least I know the man living in it is dirty-minded.”

  “Do you?” he inquired, looking down at her young beautiful face. He wore nothing, and standing this close to her knowing what was on her mind, his cock began to come alive. He had fucked her about two hours ago, and now he felt himself becoming aroused again.

  “Oh, my, God, you’re getting hard again. You’re a bull,” she whispered.

  He was, and he wanted to fuck. He grabbed hold of her and kissed her. She gently pushed him away.

  “My pussy is sore. We’ve been at this for hours. Into the bedroom, I’m sucking you off. I give the best head.”

  She wasn’t kidding either; that’s how he met her. The night before, he'd attended a party one of his friends had thrown for an actor friend. He saw her, and she was everything any man could want or imagine. They hit it off right away and wound up in one of the guest bathrooms with her on her knees, sucking the shit out of his cock. They had left together and had been fucking and sucking for over twenty-four hours. And he was hard again. He followed her into the bedroom.

  “You know, we can do sixty-nine. My clit is so swollen, and my pussy aches. Your tongue would be welcome,” she said, taking off the t-shit she wore, exposing her enhanced tits. Even though he could tell they weren’t God-given, they looked amazing. It was all about what a man got used to seeing, and what he saw now, made him even harder.

  She sat him down on the bed and spread his thighs, getting to her knees and nestling between his legs. She began by kissing his taught belly as she spit on her hand and began to pump him. He leaned back on both arms. Fuck, he thought, this was the best. She ran her tongue along the skin just above his erection, teasing him, nipping softly in and around him. He grabbed at her red hair, entwining his fingers in its thickness.

  “You do have a way with that tongue, baby,” he moaned.

  “Mmm,” she said as she ran her tongue around the head of his shaft.

  Without warning, she took his whole cock in her mouth until it hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. He became even firmer. She began fucking him hard with her hands and mouth. Her saliva ran down the sides of his cock, making it easier for her to fuck him. She massaged his balls and fingered his ass. He found it hard to hold on as the gnawing in his belly took hold. He was close, so mother fucking close, when she stopped and pushed down at the base of his dick. She did that few times, smiling at him.

  “Baby, when you cum, I’m going to suck that gorgeous cock of yours dry,” she said, her voice oozing sex.

  “Fuck,” was all he could mutter.

  As she looked up at him, she continued to massage his balls, showing him she had complete control of the situation. Her tiny evil smile nearly undid him, but she held him back.

  “Let me see,” she purred. “I want to see you squirt like a fountain so I can drink from you.”

  That was it he’d had enough. He exploded, squirting his cream in spurts as she did exactly what she said. Watching her only made his orgasm more intense and longer lasting. His cock jerked countless time until he collapsed on the bed, exhausted. She crawled up his body, pressing hers against his as she did. She took his mouth and let him taste what she’d consumed. He was done. She’d succeeded in draining him dry.

  “Holy fuck,” he said breathlessly. “Where did you learn that, little girl?” His voice had a slight humorous edge to it.

  She rolled off him and stretched out. “Oh, here and there. I love sucking cock, so I made it my business to become quite good at it.”

  “Good?” he said. “You’re fantastic, and to think I thought this was a one-time deal.”

  She got up quickly from the bed. “Almost, but not quite. I need to shower and get dressed. I have a job, you know,” she said.

  “I’ll shower with you,” he added, starting to get up.

  “Oh no, you don’t. My pussy is worn out.” She picked up her clothing and ran from the room.

  Joe laughed. Yeah he could fuck, but that little girl’s mouth and hands were worth her weight in gold.

  He rested and dozed off. When he awoke, his apartment was empty. He got up and scratched his head then his balls, and then reached for his phone. His eyes wandered to his dresser and his wallet. Curious, he grabbed it and opened it. Two hundred bucks was gone. Well, she was worth it. He checked under a small wooden box that use to house aftershave. He had two one hundred dollar bills folded neatly there. What she didn’t know was that he’d been ripped off before and had learned a few tricks of his own.


  It had been quite an interesting twenty-four hours. He’d had fuck fests before, but this one, he’d remember for a while. He’d fucked her in every hole she had, including the crease between her enhanced tits. When she offered him her ass, he sunk his cock deep; she was more than experienced there too. Her red hair flashed through his mind, and then was replaced by rich, dark brunette waves.

  He sat up quickly.

  What the fuck, he mused?

  The night with Darlene haunted him. That damn brunette left a lasting impression on him. He shook himself. It was time for a shower, and maybe he’d let the water run through his ears. Could that possibly wash Darlene from his friggin’ mind?

  “Christ,” he muttered, “as if my life isn’t fucked up enough! I’m not going to pursue that woman. I’m not!” he yelled as he grabbed a towel and headed for the shower.

  He adjusted the water, made sure it was as hot as he could stand, and then walked into the steaming stream. He’d just had over twenty-four hours of endless fucking, and his thoughts came back to her. To a damn cleaning lady. She wasn’t just a housekeeper. He’d never insult her like that. She was working a job, which she obviously needed so she could live. Nothing wrong with what she did for a living. Had he suddenly become a snob? Christ, no. What he had become was a man who wasn’t good enough for a woman like her. A woman like her could turn a man’s life around. That’s if he wanted it to, better yet, if she’d love him. Somehow, he knew that if Darlene loved a man, she loved him as if he was the only man on the planet.

  He scrubbed himself clean, trying hard to push the thought of the brunette from his mind. When he got out of the shower, he stood in front of his mirror taking a good hard look at himself. And he didn’t like what stared back at him. Not in the least. He was still in good shape but not in fighting good shape. His workouts were far and few between. He needed to train.

  His eyes drifted down to the black marble top of the vanity. He could see the remnants of that tantalizing white dust. Fuck. That shit had to stop too. All of this, all of it, was ruining his life and destroying what he’d dreamed of since he was a kid to become the heavyweight-boxing champion of the world. Was he going to let it all go up in white dust?

  Chapter Seven

  His manager, Mack, was conveniently out of the office each time he called.

  “Sheila, I know he’s there, and the bastard’s avoiding me. Sorry for the cursing, just make the asshole aware that I know his game. I need a fight. Any fight will do. Tell him I’ll train like a lunatic. Tell him I promise.”

  “Joe, I have strict instructions. He’s not in, okay. Please, he’ll wind up firing me, and I need this job,” she pleaded.

  Joe felt shitty enough. He didn’t need anyone else suffering because of him. “No problem, Sheila, tell him thanks a lot.”

  He hit the end call on his phone. He was really going down the shitter, wasn’t he? He grabbed his two hundred dollars and shoved it in his wallet. Whether Mack liked it or not, he was going down to his office. He needed the money, and he needed a fight. He picked up his phone and dialed his mother’s house. She answered.

  “Joe?”

  “Yeah, Mom, it’s me. How are you feeling today?”

  “Eh comme ce comme ca, I guess okay. I heard from your sister today. Do you know she had the nerve to ask for money? She has no idea what’s going here, and I hate to tell her. It will stress her out, and I’m afraid of that. I think she’s straight, Joe, and has been for a while.”

  He wanted to shake his mother back into reality. His sister would never be right. She had major psychological problems. There really wasn’t much hope. She could get help any number of ways, but she chose the easy way out; dead beat boyfriends, drugs, and drinking. “Do you have food? I mean, did someone go shopping for you?”

  “Yes, Joe. Why? Do you want to come over for dinner?”

  “No, Mom, just checking to make sure you’re all right. I have plans,” he said, lying, not wanting to upset her.

  “When’s your next fight? The last one, you took such a beating. Maybe you should retire, baby?”

  “I’m twenty-eight. What I need, Ma is the right fight. Look, I gotta go see Mack about my next fight.” He let his thumb brush across the end call on his phone. Retire? He could only stare down at the floor. Christ, what had he let happen? But this was the good life, right? The life he was entitled to … he was a contender for the heavyweight championship. He’d blown it. He balled up his fist and rammed it into the wall alongside of him. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Fuck, fuck!” he yelled then sank down to the floor holding his hand, hoping he hadn’t broken any bones.

  He tried hard to hold back his grief. Men weren’t supposed to cry … the tears came. He had no one, nobody except a sick and failing mother, who was incapable of helping because he’d run out of money. He’d run out of far more. He’d lost his dignity, his credibility, and the crowd that adored him. And what was on his mind? A drink or snort of coke. The very shit that was destroying him. The sobs wracked his body. What good would that do? He hurt inside. Then his mind wandered to a soft, sweet brunette, a woman he’s taken advantage of selfishly. Why the fuck had she made such an impression on him.

  He had to find a way back. He wanted his dream back. If he could attain that level of greatness again, he’d never allow himself to sink, to crumble, to tarnish. He’d shine. He’d be grateful for the gift he’d been given. He crawled across the floor to his couch and got himself to his feet. He hurried to the kitchen sink, turned on the cold water, and shoved his bleeding hand beneath the spray. It hurt, but by the grace of God, he didn’t think he’d broken any bones. His gift was his strength and perseverance, the ability to take a punch and dish out a deadlier one.

  Joe began to laugh. “Lady, whoever you are, somehow you opened my eyes. I need to change things. I need to be the man and the fighter I was meant to be. Then, pretty lady, I’ll be looking for you,” he said aloud. Then he mumbled, “What the fuck. Was she an angel or something?”

  Joe inspected his hand. He was damn lucky. He turned to look at the wall. Fuck, he really did some damage. With his hand wrapped in a clean towel, he decided to head down to the Coliseum to track down a Darlene. Joe laughed again. “I am really a crazy mother fucker, but, I need to see her again.”

  He had no idea what drove him. However, the minute he arrived at the Coliseum, he went directly to the basement where he knew he’d find the people employed by the place. He then found the night supervisor who recognized him right away.

  “Mr. Murphy, can I help you with anything.”

  “Yes. Could you please direct me to the employee lockers? You have a lunchroom and a lounge?” he asked.

  “Why yes we do,” the supervisor said.

  “Could you please direct me to them?”

  “Better, yet I’ll take you there …”

  Joe stopped him, “No, just direct me, please. I want to surprise a friend.”

  “A friend, well, if you tell me …”

  “Not necessary, really. Just direct me, please.” Joe was getting annoyed, and the supervisor let up.

  “Of course, Mr. Murphy, take this hallway to the end and make a left turn. You can’t miss the large double doors to the lunchroom. The lockers are on the other side, but you need to walk through the lunchroom first. It should be empty. Our night shift is just starting.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he took off down the hallway, hoping to catch Darlene at her locker. He made the left turn, found the large doors, and walked through the lunchroom to the doors in the back. When he opened them, he was disappointed. The place was empty, but then he saw her down at the end by her locker. He was sure she had no idea he was there, so he approached her as quietly as he could. When he got to her locker, her back was to him. He leaned over her, putting his hand on her locker door above her head.

  ****

  Darlene dried herself off. The shower was welcome and refreshing. Since the other night, she was in a quandary. Joe Murp
hy had fucked her soundly. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. How old was he? She’d read he was twenty-eight. That made her a few years older than him. However, men at that age were still quite juvenile, and Joe Murphy was no exception. But he could fuck. She giggled. She really should be upset with the events of the other night, but she had enjoyed herself way too much.

  She rubbed the towel up and down her body then turned to the mirror on the back of the door. Yeah, she could stand to lose about twenty pounds, but she liked the padding. She never nursed Devon, and her breasts were in good shape. She’d had him natural, all eight pounds, and seven ounces of him. She had a few stretch marks, but they’d faded. She had good firm legs, and when she was dressed up, she looked good. Her D cup was impressive too, but she hadn’t shown cleavage in years. She was, after all, a mom.

  She walked from the bathroom, naked, to her bedroom. She’d already taken Devon to the babysitter, and now she had the right amount of time to get ready for work. She pulled out her new white lacy bra. It had been such an indulgence thirty-five dollars, plus the matching panties, but she had to have them. For the first time in a long time she felt good, she felt pretty. If that hunk of a man did anything for her, he made her feel alive again and desirable. Perhaps she should thank him.

  She slipped on her uniform pants and shirt. Tonight, she’d forego the dress uniform; it was cold and blustery outside. She headed for the bathroom again to brush her teeth and put on some makeup. Funny how some men noticed little things about a woman. Charlie Adams passed a remark last night, telling her that he liked the change.