CONTROLLING HER: 7 BOOKS COMPLETED BOX SET - (Adult Short Reads Romance Novel Stories Series): Contemporary Love Thriller, Suspense, Control & Erotic Menage ... Male Domination Novellas 1 2 3 4 5 6 7) (4 page)
Producing a hand towel, “wipe your face up, I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson today” awkwardly he pushed his still steal shaft into his pants. “You’re gonna use the rest of your hand towel to wipe up that pussy, and 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.
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 most weakest and 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 leg Veronica be the key to my four year exile? There was much to learn and much to ponder. I hope she was not of the impression that she knew all there was 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 ask 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 wild life.
Live a little
Veronica
Is it ok 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 could seem 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 a sudden I was sure of what I was doing. Was I living or killing a dream I’d held dear to me?
I looked at him, comfy in his lazy boy feet up, my feet across his legs, brows knitting as he smirked at her making a fool of herself and I loved him all over again.
“You ok?” his voice didn’t match his face, he looked so soft and 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 singing I told you so.
I forced a smile. “Mind not here I guess”
“What’s wrong? Everything ok at work?”
Jonny.. He always did that.. Showed me he cared.
“Ya it’s all fine, just a little tired I guess.”
“Come here” and 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 focus in his show I felt guilt pinned me down and numbed me, I tried to say something, anything and my mind wouldn’t allow it, looking back at me he missed the altercation and smiled kissing my head. “Sleepy head” and finding his hand go up my shirt cupping my breast he snuggled closer. Comfort was his weakness. I liked that most, I was always open arms for him.
Jonathan had been fumbling around with my breast through the entire rerun of Drunken Master and surprisingly still paying attention. Most men would have felt my erected nipples and lost concentration mid way. Not Jonathan he paid attention, nerdy Jonny with his love for old Chinese movies and anime as old as he was his favourite book was some manga. He was my nerd, and I was his “too out of his league” girlfriend and I’d love everything the way it was. I leaned in kissing his neck softly, just the way he liked. He’d tilt my chin up hold it with his thumb and index finger and slowly coax my mouth open and savour the flavour of my lips. Slowly tracing my lips my tongue and teeth nibbling and suckling on both my bottom and top lip the way he learnt drove me crazy and then he’d pull me on top of him pull my shirt off and held my back, my breast perked in his face.
On the lazy boy?
I felt my body pulsating my blood rushing, he’d open my windows and sealed my doors I was ready to be burglarized broken and entered. His warm tongue circled one nipple and then the other. I felt my body pressing against his awkwardly positioned erection and tried to make myself feel lighter though I know it wasn’t working. It’d gotten dark outside, I hadn’t noticed, not until I threw my head back relishing in Jonathan’s sweet suckling... He stopped abruptly and made his way to the bedroom with me in his arms, to make sweet love to me as midnight rolled around. Would I ever get him to break his one track mind thinking and have him open up to me sexually? I heard the familiar saying. Good things came to he who waits...
Could I make it?
CONTROLLING HER 3
(Adult Romance Short Sex Story)
Older Man Younger Girl Short Reads Series
Dominated Unprotected Bare & Fertile Taking
Kilie Sams
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Copyright 2015 Hardcore Erotica Stories
Published by Hardcore Erotica Stories
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First HARDCORE EROTICA STORIES Printing April 2015
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
~
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.
Chapter 4 Dream or Make Believe
Chapter 5 What happens in the mind
The Rules
Bill
The days that followed Veronica began to grow on me. She was different, smart, witty, and clever in many ways. I could tell that she was trying to hold back and not to let me in but ever so slowly I was getting used to her and she getting used to me. We were to be going out to a bike show this Saturday. And I realised that though I wanted her to be my submissive she could’ve been so much more. It’s too bad she didn’t know that. I’m sure she however has someone who believes she is even wife material. I was solely focusing on how I was going to break her into submission. Getting to know her was a necessity. She was unlike the others, not the empty, air headed women I usually had around. Though Claire isn’t an airhead she wasn’t quite like Veronica. I liked calling her Veronica more. At first she stayed away from me; as if afraid of me, afraid of herself and her deepest desires. There’s no way she could deny the fact that she knew I was different, knew what I could do. I knew within myself that she was a sub somewhere inside, maybe there was a sub in every woman once they found the right man. Well I was going to be that man. I am that man. Veronica Blair was mine.
I called, whenever I got her she made an excuse not to see me. And whenever I didn’t get her I never left a message. A few days ago I called and a man answered the phone. I didn’t know what to say at first but it occurred to me I still didn’t know everything about her and her life so I left a message with the young man to have her call a Mr. Hilton as soon as she could.
Who was the man answering her phone? Where was she why he needed to be the one picking up the receiver? And why did I feel jealous? The idea had occurred to me before I met her that she might have been seeing someone. I didn’t see a ring so that meant legal playing ground and even then I might have still accepted the challenge I’ve made of her. Jealousy is an ugly trait in a man, by far one of the worst things a man of my demeanour could ever be, but was I? She was mine, is mine, I’m not jealous I’m possessive call me mean but I do not share my toys.
Speaking of toys, I pulled myself from my introverted conversation and paid attention to the beauty I was looking at. She was a vintage British motorcycle, Timothy’s pride and joy, his baby, apart from his wife and kids of course. We led two different lives but he was still my best friend in the world. We’d been working on the v-twin engine of his Vincent black shadow for a month now and she’d been coming along smoothly. He was almost ready to be back on the road with me. A freedom we both understood and would never give up; even after Zoey and after he had busted his knee. I’d kept away from riding just like him but for different reasons. His being his jacked up engine and mine being a memory I could never surpass or shake. He never mentioned it but I’m sure he understood the horror I must have faced. He’s the only person in Australia that knows that story. I understand the need for bromance when I think about how he had been there for me.
I could tell he was noticing that I wasn’t my usual self but there was no way I was gonna let on that some female had me worried.
“What you thinking about bro? Why do you look as if someone took your girl?” How accurate.
“Nah, just a little trouble in the office has me distracted. How’s Shelly-Ann?”
Asking about his common law wife could bring the conversation in either direction. But I’m sure it would distract him from asking what was up with me. He went off about her being sad because their only son MJ had just started school and she was acting up.
“She’s acting as if she wants me to put a next one her. She acting as if we have the money to take care of another child, as much as her pussy’s great, I’m not looking to knock her up anytime soon”
It’s amazing how three years ago I couldn’t understand a word he said when he’d relax his dialect and used jargons I was completely unfamiliar with. He wasn’t the upscale Australian crowd I had first been acquainted with, and turned out I liked his company much better. I was never one to enjoy cocktail parties with exaggeratedly dressed women and men who could only participate in surface conversations and blind observations told me I did not like them well.
We met at a shop those years ago and quickly our love for riding had formed a bond I’d always respect and cherish. He was a bro until the end I could tell.
“You know that woman loves you Tim”
“I’m not saying she don’t . . . but sometimes she should chillax. How’s the chick?”
He’d met Claire once and by total accident. He knew I was seeing different women but I never spoke of them never introduced them. After all what was there for him to meet?
I wasn’t found of wasting time. Women tended to get the wrong idea when they started meeting and greeting things outside of my bedroom. That was a total different game and ball field.
“She’s aite I guess”
“You guess? You stop hitting it?”
So blunt and insensitive, we got along great.
I chuckled “Nah once or twice when I want to. Sometimes when she want to.”
“Oh cause I’d be wondering if you’re crazy!!! Dat assssss D!!!!”
He humoured me, especially when he sounds American like now.
We eased into a comfortable silence as he turned up the radio and put it on one of the countries hippest music station and let the dancehall tune play out it’s censored version of what a “freaky gal” was supposed to be doing. That’s one thing I’d never get used to, I’d always prefer music with a little more substance than superficial music with a good beat. Plus I had a more precise idea of who a freaky girl was or was suppose to do.
We worked until evening had rolled around, a hot July day had meant though it was 5 o clock the sky wouldn’t give much away. I’d been greasy my white t-shirt dolmationed with oil stains and my knee stained through the tear in my old pair of true religion jeans. A good day with T is what I needed. Now I was ready to peruse what the market looked like at a bike show in Portmore, Veronica in tow.
***
Veronica had asked me to pick her up at a shopping centre off the boulevard and I had thought it weird at first but when I saw her I didn’t care. Why couldn’t I know where she lived, she looked decent enough for me to be sure she didn’t live in a zinc one bedroom with an outside bathroom. I knew nothing of the quality of people that those homes produced and I never judged but there’s nothing she should be ashamed of. Were there any garrisons even close to that centre?
She was wearing navy blue cuffed shorts with buttoned pockets on the back a navy blue baby tee with a black flower like symbol on the front. I made a mental note to ask her what it meant later, and boots that I liked a little too much. They were black, leather and had chains running from side to side… Almost all the things I liked. Seeing her in that outfit with her long legs immaculately shaven I wish I had rode. I bet her ass and thighs would look nothing short of glorious perched on the back of my CBR600. Buju’s song occurred to me. Old school dancehall wasn’t so bad after all. I smiled as she got in, her perfume filled the car, she smelt like vanilla, not the Japanese cherry blossom she’d smelt like when we had first met. I closed my eyes briefly and remembered the way she looked at me.
She must give herself to me, must.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she shyly replied, looking awkward and uncomfortable. I had to get her talking. I never expected her to be shy. Not after her display of attitude and confidence when I’d approached her first. I looked at her, short of staring before I dragged my eyes away from her legs stretched out in front of her and started the car. “First thing you do when you enter my car is to draw your seatbelt, even before you acknowledge me”
She smiled half heartedly and fumbled with it, I pulled out of the parking lot as I ensured I heard it click into position. “What’d you do today?” We relaxed into conversation as she babbled about doing nothing and a little shopping with her friend Kim and her best friend named Becky who happened to be a lesbian.“She sounds like handful, you being as attractive as you are.”“Sometimes she’s a little too much, but it’s innocent” she blushed for the first time. “Does the radio work?” without answering I hit the button and the smooth sound of Paramore’s
Misguided ghost
filled the car.
“You can change it if you like.”
“Nope this is fine Haley’s voice is awesome”
I smiled. This wasn’t her best song and Veronica was familiar with her. Nice. At least I knew there’s something I can always draw for should we lack conversation. After all she was American born, something I was grateful we had in common.
Cruising down the high way the summer sun had finally gone down as 7 o clock rolled around. I’d taken port Henderson and already some prostitutes lined the strip, early bird catches the most worms? I’d thought about getting one and fucking her with all my rage or until her asshole started bleeding. But it would never give me the mental satisfaction of knowing she was probably doing it to send her child to school. And there were always women like Claire. You would think that with the way Australians stereotype that submissives would’ve been hard to find. You’d just have to know exactly what you’re looking for.
I sighed as I felt my dick getting familiarly hard. Veronica was humming to Linkin Park and I could tell she could sing. She’d been staring out the window looking at nothing in particular. Our minds were clearly in two different spaces though our bodies were in the same vessel.
We’d gotten there. The streets were filled lined with biker’s onlookers and females wearing little to nothing though some of them looked like they shopped at the exact same stores. Veronica stood out. Simplicity must really be the key, maybe it was the fixation I had already developed. It accumulated so quickly.
I could hear music chumping, voices over the music, men shouting across to each other, the smell of the ocean mixed with jerk chicken and soup filled the air, Veronica looked intrigued as we drove along looking for a parking space on the side of the road not too close to the crowd but close enough to keep an eyeful watch on the car, I wasn’t trying to get it stolen.
I cut the engine and we unbuckled.
“It’s loud and full of excitement. I wouldn’t want you to get distracted as we covered what you need to know. Its early there’ll be time later to have the talk we need to have.” Again a faint smile. Where had the goddess, the temptress, the bold young woman that had begged me with her eyes to fuck her gone? Sighing I got out as she did on the other side. She’d walked off before I could’ve gotten to her towards the crowd. Catching up to her like a dog pissing on a tree I rested my hand on her hip as we walked through the crowd to get a good look at displays before the stunting began. My hand was firmly in place to let all other dogs to know that this long legged creature was strictly my territory.
“Am I supposed to keep calling you Mr. Hilton?” She asked over her shoulder in a strained voice so I could hear her.
“We’ll talk about it,” I could tell she was irate but there had to be some rules.
“Ooooo soup!” like a child in the play ground she’d grab hold of my hand and pulled me towards the overweight lady with the head tie standing by a huge pot on a coal stove set up in front of a white Dodge. I tried not to be uncomfortable until she let my hand go.
“What you need Hun?” the lady asked before I had even gotten to stop.
“What you have?” Veronica examined the other smaller pots I hadn’t seen.
“I got everything Hun, and Joe can sell your chicken or pork after your finish with the cup.”
Veronica done licked her lips as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Woah.. There’s the temptress I knew. She looks enticed, I like that look. Looks like I’m going to need to ask the lady her recipe before we left, I laughed to myself.
“What?” the attitude was back, there’s my girl.
“Nothing whatsoever, pay attention to the soup.”
“Manish water and I’d like the pepper in my cup” she said eyeing me and then paying keen attention to the lady as she dug around the pot in search of her pepper. Joe had seemed like he’d been ready to serve her, but she shook her head turning him down telling them she’d only want soup, spicy soup.
We proceeded to the crowd as a uniformed team of men began doing a series of stunts on RRs. Mufflers rumbling the smell of tires, I was in my zone. The show had gotten better over the years I’d been going, riders from all over the country had come to see, flew out from Florida some even flew into the country for these annual bike shows. After clearing the street a race took place, and a group of dancers performed, then another group clashed them then a team of Trojan girls took the stage and the event had drawn a crowd I’m sure was over 6,000 persons.
After a good show and three cups of soup I took Veronica down to a smaller secluded beach spot hidden after you passed a neighbourhood and a long road of darkness. For a Saturday night I’d expected to see more people, I was just happy they weren’t hosting an event.
“Alone at last?” I smiled at her.
“Those men are seriously crazy! I wouldn’t be caught dead on one of those. Mad? I’d die for sure.” She laughed to herself.
“Once you’re sure of your rider and he’s sure of himself, being on one isn’t so bad; you just have to know they know what they are doing. A lot of riders can ride but don’t function well with someone else on the bike.”
