Enslaved By Him: My Bareback Master Series (Book 1) (An Erotic Romance)

BOOK: Enslaved By Him: My Bareback Master Series (Book 1) (An Erotic Romance)
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Enslaved By Him: My Bareback Master Series (Book 1)

(An Erotic Romance)

 

 

 

by

Kimberly D. Carter

 

 

Copyright © 2013 Kimberly D. Carter.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

 

 

 

Content Warning:
Explicit sexual content. Contains elements of domination, body worship, and public sex. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.

 

 

Other books in this series:
Slapped & Spanked: My Bareback Master Series (Book 2)

 

 

 

 

~The Beginning~

 

I look at the big, pink clock sitting on my nightstand. The time on it flashes on and off like a bright neon light directing incoming air traffic.

Only it’s not directing any air traffic.

No.

Instead, what it’s doing is driving me crazy with excitement.

1:00 AM
, it says and I feel like I just want to jump up and down in my room, literally rock the floor and make the ground tremble under my feet.

See, today is my eighteenth birthday.

I literally just turned eighteen one hour ago and I’m bristling with excitement because I’m finally,
finally
, an adult now.

No more being treated like a teenager who doesn’t have any brains on her.

Fuck. That. Shit.

To celebrate my big day today, I plan on going out with my friends to a club tomorrow evening━or tonight, if you want to get all technical and shit━and staying out all night.

That’s the plan, you see.

Emphasis on the word
“plan”
here.

And the reason why I’m just planning as opposed to being sure that I am one hundred per cent going to go out and party like a rock star━or with a rock star if I can find one who likes eighteen year old girls with red hair and green eyes━is because of the other woman who lives in my house.

I call her “mom” most times, and when she pisses me off━which is every day now since I turned sixteen, two years ago━I like to call her
monster
.

Sometimes though, she really,
really
gets under my skin, like when she tries to tell me who my friends should be or maybe turn the music down in my room.

Days like those, I get real moody with her, stalk back into my room and make sure to slam the door real hard behind me. So hard that one day my door slamming antics actually broke a flower vase that was sitting in the hallway outside my room.

The vase had been a gift to mom from my aunt, mom’s younger sister, when she came back from an overseas trip to China.

So it was all ornamental and shit. I’m talking exquisite-looking like with blue and orange flowers covering its entire surface.

And mom loved that vase.

For that “atrocity”━is what she called it━I ended up receiving triple the punishment that she’d initially given me.

No TV or cell phone privileges for three days instead of the one day that I’d originally gotten.

On days like those, I usually just glum up and don’t say a single word the whole day.

How dare she do that to me?!?

She doesn’t like it when I get like that with her, but I do it anyway just to make her feel the same way I’m feeling at that particular time.

So now that I’m planning my eighteenth birthday I’m very sure of two things:

My mom is going to say━in fact I’m sure these will be her exact words━“No way you’re going out and staying out all night, young lady.”

The second thing I’m sure of: My dad
isn’t
going to have a heart attack or anything about my supposed plans of staying out all night but he will have to side with my mom.

Uuugh, Parents! Can’t stand them sometimes.

I look down at my phone as it buzzes with a text message. I’ve been texting back and forth with Candy all night. Candy is my best friend and she also just turned eighteen today. She was born only fifty-six minutes ahead of me, according to our gossipy parents.

We met when we were both seven after my mom and her dad enrolled us in the same elementary school, on the same day.

We’ve been giggling and talking about boys ever since.


So r u gonna invite him over?”
Her text says.

“Fuck no...are u crazy?”
I text back.

“Him” in this case is Jake K. Williams. The handsome-as-fuck boy who lives just two doors down from me.

He also just turned eighteen and I know this because two nights ago, a friday night, there had been extremely, almost obnoxious, loud music coming from his house. Looking out through my room window I’d seen Jake’s driveway packed with cars and a lot of boys who I recognized from my high school days hanging from those car windows.

Every now and then, somebody would get on what sounded like a megaphone and bellow out the words, “Happy eighteenth birthday, you bastard!”

It got so that I could almost time the stupid megaphone voice and found myself wishing “Jake the bastard” a happy birthday about fourteen, maybe fifteen times.

This had gone on throughout the night, till the cops finally showed up at about three in the morning and shut the whole thing down.

I don’t know for sure but I have a feeling, Mrs. Deuteronomy further on down the block, was the one who called the police. I could almost put money on it. Whatever little I have, that is.

Now the thing is, I’ve had a crush on Jake ever since he and his family moved in two years ago and he swaggered over to my porch where I was standing looking at them move in, held my hand up in the air, spun me around and said, “Don’t drool over me. I’m hard to get.”

Cocky bastard.

My cell phone dings again.

It’s a text from Candy:
“No, ur the crazy one...u like this guy and he likes you back...he didn’t give you his number for nothing...just invite him over, gal.”

Unlike myself, Candy is very experienced when it comes to dealing with boys. Mainly because she’s always had a boyfriend and several admirers on the side who she keeps on a very short leash in case she needs to pick up a new boyfriend in a hurry.

“Reserve emergency boyfriends,” she once winked at me when I’d asked her what the hell she was doing stringing all those boys along.

But that’s Candy for you, though. She’s been playing men ever since she was a senior in high school and she loves it.

The most astounding thing to me, however, is that none of the boys have ever caught on to her act.

I don’t know how she gets away with it but she’s good. Really good at dealing with boys.

And even though she swears up and down that none of her boyfriends have ever seen the inside of her vagina, she herself has seen several penises.

Black penises (God, the entire basketball team back in high school, I’m sure, although she only confessed to seeing two of them naked), white penises, big penises, small penises, stiff penises, limp penises, and everything else in between.

Or to put it bluntly, she’s “blown” and “hand-jobbed” almost every boyfriend she’s ever had. And there have been many of those over the years.

Now that high school is over for us and we’re both over eighteen, we’ve made a pact to remain virgins till we both get married.

I’m pretty sure I’ll stay true to my stated goal.

I’m also pretty sure Candy will definitely not stay true to hers.

I send her a text back:
“ur crazy gal...who knows what will happen if I invite him over. Hell nooooo!”

If I’m going to stay a virgin till the day I get married, the first step in that direction is to avoid the small temptations that come my way every now and then and Jake isn’t just a small temptation...he is the biggest, damn temptation a girl could ever have.

 

***

 

I lie down on my bed, my head resting on the soft leather pillow that I got last christmas and as usual, start dreaming about Jake. In my mind I can see his long lean legs, his strong square jaw and his ten thousand watt smile.

My legs are tightly crossed together as I try to stifle the urge that’s percolating down there. But try as I might, the urge grows stronger and stronger until I can’t take it anymore. I move my hand downwards and do what I always do when that urge takes over me.

I start rubbing my wet vagina.

I don’t know what it is but I get wet so quickly when I’m horny that sometimes I confuse it for my periods.

Only after I look do I confirm that no, it’s not my period after all. It’s only my horniness starting to take over. And boy, does it take over!

If I had to guess as to why I get so horny quickly, I’d have to say it’s because I have butterfly pussy lips.

My pussy lips are big, red and spread outwards so wide that they look like beautiful butterfly wings on a butterfly ready to take off.

Which, incidentally, is how I feel right now.

Like a rocket, ready to take off into ecstasy land.

I start rubbing on my clit, softly at first then harder with each passing second. Rub it even harder every time I think about Jake's luscious lips eating and nibbling on my butterfly pussy lips.

My fingers touch the soft knob of my clit and travel downwards toward my now throbbing vagina.

It’s most definitely a fucking river down there, it’s so wet.

And it’s tight.

So tight, I’m having a hard time putting two of my fingers inside me, but I push through anyway and moan with satisfaction when I finally pierce through.

Fuck that feels good.

I remove the two fingers━I like using the forefinger and middle finger━from inside my vagina, and see that they’re both covered in white, delicious looking cum.

I’m biased since it’s my cum so I’ll daresay it’s delicious looking cum. I put the fingers inside my mouth and lick them off.

Fuck that tastes good!

There’s something about tasting my own cum that turns me the fuck on every time I do it and this time is no exception.

I’m throbbing and horny like a motherfucker.

After licking every morsel of cum off my fingers, I re-insert them back inside my vagina, this time even deeper but that doesn’t give me enough satisfaction.

My horniness is like an unquenchable raging tornado by now.

I want something else,
need
something else, and I want it right now so I immediately start thrusting my fingers in and out and deep inside me.

Now that’s what I’m talking about!

The soft skin on my hands feels so damn good on my clit and vagina lips that for a moment, I forget where I am and start moaning ever so slightly.

Fuck, I need to go hard on this.

Using the fingers on my other hand, I pry open my pussy lips wide and really start fingerfucking myself nice and hard.

I’m talking cum-sloshing, fingerfucking hard.

Ah better!

But now my clit is feeling neglected.

I need the clitoris taken care of. It’s where all my orgasm-gushing nerves are and if I don’t take care of that, then all I’m going to have is a partially satisfying fingerfuck.

And Stacey doesn’t do partial.

No. Uh-uh.

So I put my thumb into play.

Get down there thumb and get to work!

Good thing my thumb is being cooperative and is a good listener today because it gets to work ASAP. And I’ll tell you what, the results are immediate.

For example...the wetness in my vagina is now double the amount it was just a few minutes ago. Heck! You could easily slide a big cucumber inside my vagina and back out and have no problem with friction or blockage of any sort.

I’m ripe and ready for a good fingerfucking along with the clit rubbing.

So I get to work.

My thumb seems to be enjoying this because it’s rubbing my clitoris hard. The two fingers are not slacking off either. They are fingerfucking me as if I’m the horniest bitch on earth.

Which right now, I fucking am and I seem not to care who else knows it because I suddenly realize that I’m moaning so loudly, people the next county over can probably hear me.

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