So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

by Jamie Knight

  I have the waiter leave my sightless beauty on her own just in front of my doorstep. I wait until the waiter is down on the ground floor again before inviting her in. I do so with my own voice this time, not through any headset. Karen obeys, easily finding her way to the doorknob to turn it. As the door comes open, I get another view of her body. The sweaty, pink glow to her form underneath her black, sheer nylon fabric.

  “Come in and shut the door behind you,” I say, watching as she does so quickly and efficiently. “Take the earphones off, but not the blindfold.” I give her this other order, reminding her how she has to keep me happy, or else get kicked out.

  She nods again, and carefully removes the headset. I let her set it on the floor anywhere, stroking my cock more now that she’s here. I’d stopped doing so while I waited for her, but now that she’s here, I want her to appreciate the work I’m putting in. I rub hard and strong, adding spit to my hand, so she can hear it and linger on it.

  “Get undressed.”

  Wordlessly, she complies with my demand. She goes from top to bottom, carefully and quickly removing each clothing item. The first thing I get to enjoy are her perky firm breasts. Her nipples, already standing at attention, even after only a few seconds of being in the open air. The next thing I savor are her thighs, her curvy hips and legs. Then her clean-shaven pussy, as she strips off her skirt and frilly panties. Her shoes and thigh-high nylons come off last, and by this time, I’m rubbing my dick hard and fast. Again, to make sure she hears.

  Just thinking about the question I’m going to ask her next, that makes my shaft swell. My balls clench. “Good girl. Now. Tell me” — more stroking and gripping, just so she hears the slide and swish of flesh against flesh — “what do you hear?”

  I watch her listening. I see her lean side to side and strain from underneath the blindfold. I feel myself go harder, watching her mouth open in a slight gasp. “Skin against skin,” she says breathlessly.

  I shuffle up toward her, giving her my next order. “Hold your hand out.” She does, and I thrust my cock between her fingers. “Now. Tell me what you feel.”

  Chapter Five - Karen

  Tell me what you feel — that new command from my mysterious master rings in my ears as he thrusts something warm and heavy in my hand. With the blindfold on, I can’t see what it is. I quickly move my fingers up and down it, realizing it’s his cock. It’s huge and thick. Silky and slightly damp with precum. I can tell by the slick feeling of his skin. I’ve never touched a hard dick before and the mix of the softness of his skin and the firmness of the shaft excites me more. My pussy begins to ache with longing. The dick in my hand shudders and presses against my fingers. It urges them to curl around it and I run my fingers down its length.

  I gasp finally feeling the base of his long, hard cock. It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, even in porn, and I know this without ever truly seeing it! Even having no sight, I can just picture its perfection and its sexiness. As I move my fingers and hands around the base to feel and cup his thick, heavy balls, I have to resist every urge I have to undo the blindfold.

  Especially with Ambrose praising me. He is sighing and groaning with pleasure under every touch I give him, every exploratory stroke. “You touch just about as well as you dance,” he tells me, and I’m spurned on by the deep, bewitching resonance in his voice. If I thought it was sexy over the headset, it’s beyond that in real life. “I’m definitely going to have to reward you properly after all this.”

  I continue my exploration and pleasuring of Ambrose, returning my hand to his shaft and dickhead, giving rhythmic, gentle attention. I really, really want to take the stupid blindfold off! I really want to see how sexy this man is. He sounds and feels like a beast of a man! Like someone I could just melt all over, but I don’t want to disappoint him. I don’t want to lose out on more time with him. Under these thoughts, I continue to stroke and brush him, feeling sweet stickiness on my fingers.

  I’m beginning to smell him — a rich, intoxicating musk mixed with expensive cologne. Something animal and refined at the same time, though I don’t say anything. I just keep up my work on him, hoping for his praise. I want my eventual reward, which I’m hoping is a glimpse at his face. Maybe if I keep him happy, if I do exactly what he asks, I’ll get to see him. I really hope I do. That face of his, it must be a work of art. And even if it isn’t, I will turn it into one. If I take nothing else from tonight, it must be that. A glimpse at his face, a painting in the making.

  “You’ve earned yourself more than just a touch of me,” says Ambrose, pushing me down onto my knees. It’s a light, commanding gesture. One I don’t fight, immediately finding comfort and stability on my knees. “You’ve earned a taste,” he adds, putting his hand on the back of my head and gently pushing forward. Almost instantaneously, I feel his cock glide into my mouth. It slips in between my barely open lips, like a lollipop I’ve been dying to suck. I don’t fight as his cock plunges further in, taking up more of my mouth. It eats up the air and the spare space. My tongue curls back and around, immediately making room for his girth. “Enjoy it. Savor it.”

  I moan obediently and let him use my mouth however he wants. He wastes no time in beginning to pump his length and girth in and out of my lips, along my cheeks and jaw. He moves quickly and boldly, making me hear and feel each stretch of my skin. Each splash of my saliva, he forces me to savor. I get surrounded by the sounds like I’m engrossed in a movie.

  I love the noises and the feelings that overwhelm me. Without my sight, everything feels brighter, thicker, juicier and sweeter to me. As I enjoy the feeling of him pounding in and out of my mouth, practically brushing my tongue and throat with his cock, I relish in the blackness. I’m glad I can’t see it for what it is. I wouldn’t be able to taste things as deeply as I am. I wouldn’t be able to feel my hunger and my saliva as it gathers and swirls.

  Gladly, I take him as deep as I can go. I let his cock chock me of air and dignity, drinking in as many details as I can. I feel him as clearly as I’ve ever seen anything. Even if I never got to see what he actually looked like, I’d be able to paint him. I’d be able to draw his cock down to the very last vein, the very last ridge. My tongue and mouth are so much more sensitive and detail oriented than my eyes.

  But my biggest surprise comes as he continues to fuck my throat, bury himself into a barely-suppressed gag — he brings his hands and fingers down to my breasts. He begins to slap and fondle them, pinch and roll my nipples along the palm of his hand, as he continues to plunge into my throat. This attention to my breasts is exciting and makes me suck on him even more. I expand my throat for him, even though I didn’t think that was possible.

  Each pinch and squeeze to my nipples, that’s in the new splash of vibrant, dripping color into my mind’s eye. My hips shiver, and my clit clenches. My belly trembles, and as do the walls of my abdomen, with excitement; the sensitivity in just the smallest of his touches, it’s like he’s the lightning and I’m the rod.

  My nipples are hard and puffy underneath Ambrose’s fingers. My breasts feel fuller and heavier than they should, but that’s nothing compared to the new tastes and textures I have in my mouth. I taste sweetness and musk. The same sweetness and musk I smelled, it now coats my tongue and the roof of my mouth like an invisible, inexhaustible sugar. The moment I think this, I feel his shaft heave, his head stiffen and release.

  Before my mind can wrap around anything that’s happening, my body is already responding. My lips tighten, my throat begins to draw the fluid spilling across my tongue down. I’m drinking him in, spray after spray, shot after shot. I don’t even realize it’s his cum until he says that’s what it is.

  “It’s obvious you’ve been enjoying what you’ve felt and tasted. Now drink it all. Every last drop,” he barks hotly, continuing to unload himself in me. Hot and sticky, his cum coats my throat and cheeks in warm, naughty strokes.

  Ambrose has me caught. While I wouldn’t have thought I would ever enjoy th
e taste of cum, I relish it. I taste it the same way I would have tasted frosting — with reckless abandon. It’s no trouble, no pain or suffering to imbibe him. I spill nothing. I even go so far as to clean him off, and that’s when he helps me to my feet.

  He guides me into standing again, phrases me, and gently pushes me forward. His touch gives me reassurance through a hand placed on the middle of my back. “You’ve earned your reward,” he says. “Put your hands out and get in position and get ready to have your mind blown. Your world shaken to its core.”

  A soft bed comes under my hands first. Pillows, comforter and the mattress, each slide under my fingers one after the other, and I quickly take the hint and begin to climb. I crawl my way onto the body of the mattress, though my eyes are still blindfolded. I’m not afraid by the darkness anymore; just excited and happy. Curious about what reward I’ve earned.

  “Stop there,” he murmurs, and I do, propped on my hands and knees with my butt pointed towards him. I stop cold not wanting any of my reward to be forfeit. “Your only job now is to tell me what you feel. Describe it to me.” Right after, I hear him moving around me. I hear him digging around for something, and then silence. Until I feel the brush of a feather on me. The whisper of soft, tickling fibers on my ass. “What do you feel?” The way he asks this, I know he’s impatient. Excited for what I have to say.

  “I feel something soft… Feathery on my ass,” I say, trying to think of more ways to describe it. Some more artful phrase, but my mind is beginning to numb under the sensation. “It feels alive.”

  He gives a satisfied hum then a slap on my ass by something hard and small. Not quite a whip, but not quite his hand. It stings and sparks along my skin, pulling a squeal from my lips. “And that?” A lump floats up my throat, but not out of pain. Out of pleasure, an unexpected breathlessness.

  “A hard slap. A spank with something,” I say, wishing I could be more descriptive. More artful. I should be, considering I create art pieces on a daily basis, but it’s so much harder to describe sensations. Especially ones I never thought I would feel.

  I sense him moving. I hear him climbing on the bed, and feel the mattress and sheets bow under his weight. I smell his cologne, the perfume of his musk as he comes close to me. I feel his breath on the back of my thighs, creeping up towards my ass. Settling in on my pussy, I feel warmth and wetness. Slick, bendable flesh, that I realize is his tongue. It tickles along my lower lips, the inside of my ass cheeks, before dipping toward the opening of my pussy.

  “And this?”

  Uncontrollably, I shudder. I shift on my knees, feeling my pussy lips reaching out to hold him. “Your tongue.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Licking me,” I say, quickly gasping for air.

  He’s not just licking along my lips, my flaps of skin anymore. He’s bending down and beginning to swirl and curl that tongue into my hole. It soaks and juices for him. My clit aches and quivers, before his lips even clasped around it. The moment they do (I feel it as he is putting weight on the mattress, scooting underneath me), I cry out. I buckle, but don’t lose my balance. More of me is now in between his lips, and he goes down on it.

  Ambrose licks and sucks my clit roughly, hungrily. He eats its chubby slickness as if it belongs to him now and forever. He moans and gulps, grabbing my thighs and squeezing. Forcing them apart, as he deepens his exploration and his penetration. His tongue laps forward and back along my clit and lips, before thrusting into my hole — swirling along my textured opening. I groan, feeling myself shaking. Again, he asks me what I feel, and again I tell him.

  “I feel you licking my clit. Sucking on it, and scooping out my pussy with your tongue,” I say, hearing and feeling my voice quiver. My stomach follows suit.

  “What does it feel like you’re about to do?” asks Ambrose.

  By the right, mocking way he speaks to me, I know he knows. He knows I’m about to come, but he wants to hear me say it. He continues dragging and circling his tongue along my clit, on the underside of my hood.

  “It feels like I’m about to come,” I say, feeling just that begin to shake and rattle through me. Before I’ve even finished saying those words, I do. I come quickly and violently, immediately seeing stars. Feeling dizzy and warm. But it doesn’t stop there. Just as the warm, tingling energy begins to subside, it builds up again. It folds in on itself and rushes forward under a new wave of attention from him.

  “And now?”

  I pant, gripping the sheets. “It feels like I’m about to come again,” I say, and proceed to do just that. He’s barely doing anything at all, practically blowing on my clit, poking my folds with the barest edge of his tongue, and I’m creaming, clenching and writhing on his tongue, as I feel something spill out of me. Spray like a jittery, fountain.

  “What are you feeling now?” The words are heady and resonate in my ears, buried under the sensation of my wet, quaking pussy.

  “Quaking,” I breathe, feeling something else welling up inside me. More liquid, molten love. “Like a melting. Turning into lava, magma.” Saying this, that’s all I can picture. My body — my flesh and bones — I’m melting like the core of the earth, while my lust, my hard, pulsating clit takes over. “Like I’m going to explode. Boil over.” As I dribble out these words, that’s exactly what my body does. Release more fluids of pleasure. I feel them streak and splash down my thighs. Underneath the force of that orgasm I sway, lost in the spinning, swirling fog of color in my darkness. It’s a wonder I’m still kneeling.

  I am, but I’m very badly — and very thoroughly — shaken.

  Chapter Six - Ambrose

  I love how my little plaything is behaving for me. I’ve gotten everything I wanted, but as I pull back from pleasuring her a moment, I realize something terrifying. Out of spending time with her, I’m beginning to get something I didn’t expect: real and true emotion toward her, not just the usual lust. The way she’s quaking and having to work to catch her breath, I feel breathless toward that. I feel the quiver and her body coming to my soul, my heart, and that’s when I’m determined to have her as more than just my toy, my distraction.

  I want her as my satisfaction for more than one night.

  Of course, the moment I think that, I shove it away. That’s not who I’ve been, who I can give myself permission to be. Not now. Not yet, and maybe not ever. As Ambrose White, there are certain things I’m not allowed to do. And falling in love, growing dependent on my company for the evening, that’s forbidden to me. I made that rule for myself over twenty years ago, and I don’t plan on breaking it now.

  Focusing my attention on my girl’s beautiful curvy and exposed ass, her folds of delectable, blushing flesh, the glistening wet slit before me, just begging to be fucked, I decide I’m going to take her for real. I’m going to have her virginity for myself.

  Satiating that hunger, that’ll turn off these ridiculous thoughts of wanting her for longer. I ready my cock in my hand, stroking it. My movements are slow and methodical, but it doesn’t matter. My cock is hard and full. Hot and ready to fill that virgin pussy, savor the tightness before I stretch it out, leaving my indelible mark.

  Shifting my way up to her ass and beginning to glide my cock’s tip around her silky skin, I murmur, “I’m going to take your virginity now.”

  To this, I just feel the girl tremble. Her folds get slicker. Her juices stick to me before I’ve even done more than just slide my shaft across the front of her. Her clit, still hard and beady from my work on it, glides across me momentarily. I moan at the small tickling sensation but remind myself to get back in control. I’m not the virgin here, she is.

  She’s just the new girl, not a whole new world, Ambrose. Get it together. With these thoughts, I pull my cock from its path along the front of her lips and clit and reposition it in front of her hole. I spread her cheeks and skin there, dabbing my head in and out of her teasingly, testingly. I’m doing it for my sake — to sample her wetness and readiness for me, no other reason.r />
  She moans, shakes with every whisper of me so I decide to play my game with her some more. My game of “feel and tell”, knowing that it’s more for me now than any control over her. “What does that feel like to you?” I press her hole with the tip of my head then pull back out.

  Again, she quivers and whimpers. “It feels like your cock,” she breathes, “your head, but it feels even better than it did in my mouth.” I hear her whine in hunger or discomfort. “It has so much more texture, so much more warmth when I feel you spreading me down there.”

  “Do you want more? Do you want the whole thing in you?” At this point, I can’t keep the arousal from my voice. It’s husky and thick, the same as my cock. As it is, I have it positioned to go straight in and straight to the ends of what she can tolerate, the moment she answers me.

  “The whole thing, yes, please! Please give it to me, Mr. White!”

  “So be it,” I sing, and plunge straight into her.

  The moment I feel my head and shaft split her warm lips, and dip into her hot, wet depths, that’s the moment all oxygen leaves me. All thought and control leaves my body, and I go from one thrust to pounding. Quickly and brutally I move in and out of her, feeling like a virgin all over again. I grab a hold of her hips, kneel back, and bring her back to me. With eyes at that angle, I watch my dick slip in and out of her hole as I pound her pussy as hard and fast as I can. Leaning back more, I suspend her above me, growling at her to tell me everything that’s going on. How big and delicious I am to her.

  Just asking her to do this tightens her pussy around me even more than it already is. But it’s her words to me, it’s those little things, that fill my cock up to near bursting. “It’s so huge, so filling!” While there is some strain to her voice, some bits of pained breathing, she’s in ecstasy. She’s drooling for me, even as she speaks. “It’s even better than the picture I had in my head. It’s so manly and strong, Ambrose! Fuck me harder, so I can feel all of you! So, I can get down every last inch of you!”