Masquerade

Five

I can tell you straight off the bat that the next day is hell. I am like a mosquito using the edge of a razor blade as a landing to taxi off. I try to work, but I can’t concentrate since my sex is swollen and throbbing and the rubbing of my hardened nipples against the material of my T-shirt drives me crazy. At six o’clock I dress in a V neck blouse and a skirt—and no knickers. First he is going to explain about my phone number and then I’m going to let him fuck me.

By seven I am a living wreck, but what he sees when he walks in is me sitting on the sofa as cool as a melting ice cube. I quirk an eyebrow and cross my legs. The message is clear. I’m in charge tonight. We play by my rules.

‘Have a seat,’ I tell him.

He stalks over, drags my startled body upright and snaking his palms down to my ass slams my pelvis into him. His erect cock presses into my stomach. I don’t know how I had expected our meeting to go, but my body sings with relief. My eyes gaze longingly at his lips, my arms cry to hook themselves around his neck and my body yearns to rub itself like a cat against his hard length. Only my pride keeps my raving nymphomaniac instinct at bay.

I avert my face.

He sniffs audibly. ‘Pretend all you want, but I can smell your arousal.’ He traces the V of my top down to my cleavage. The desire to press my breast into that broad palm is shocking.

‘Stop it,’ I hiss.

With a wicked smile he cups my breasts with his hands. They are heavy and tight. He squeezes. I can’t help it, I whimper.

‘Don’t you know crossing and uncrossing your legs is considered an invitation?’ he mocks.

‘Don’t you know lesbians play by different rules?’

‘Stop me if you don’t like it,’ he murmurs.

I bring my hand up and catch his in a firm grip.

‘Do you want to know what I think?’

‘No,’ I whisper weakly.

‘I think, my little lesbian, that you’ve picked up a little addiction for cock. For my cock. Nothing’s ever been good enough since then, has it?’

I gasp at the arrogance of the man. ‘You’re a patronizing son of a bitch, you know?’ I accuse hotly. ‘You said you’d call and then you didn’t. Why didn’t you call me?’

‘It’s complicated,’ he replies pleasantly, and bringing my hand to his lips starts delicately kissing the knuckles.

It is very distracting, but I am determined. ‘Is complicated code for you changed your mind and didn’t bother to tell me and then you saw me again by accident at the Van Woolf art exhibition and thought, I’m bored, I’ll have another go?’

He stops kissing my hand. His eyes focus on mine. ‘Look into my eyes and tell me you really believe that. I thought about you every fucking day. I always knew one day I’d come back for you.’

‘One day?’

‘I told you it’s complicated.’

‘Define complicated.’

‘Composed of elaborately interconnected parts, complex, difficult to analyze, understand and problematic to explain, et cetera.’

The answer is cheeky and evasive, but the gentle finger under my chin from such a brutally masculine man has the surprising effect of making my throat clog with emotion.

‘What’s found and lost will be found again,’ he says so softly I almost don’t catch it.

It is obvious that he is hiding something and that there is a problem somewhere, but maybe I wasn’t just a one-night stand. Maybe he does care some. And I am not just some anonymous fuck.

‘I want to see your naked breasts.’

‘Screw you,’ I say, but my voice is thick.

‘You always played the part of the man, the one in charge, didn’t you? You were in control, wearing the strap-on dildo and fucking the shit out of them. Well, there’s going to be some changes around here. Guess who’s gonna be fucked into submission and like it?’

‘You don’t know me. You don’t know what I want.’

‘Don’t kid yourself, Billie. What you want is exactly what all women want.’

‘And what’s that then, Mr. Rose?’ I ask sarcastically.

‘A dominant man with a filthy fucking mouth who will wet your little panties for you, crucify you with his huge cock, and fucking force you to come again and again, until you can barely walk.’ A slow smile lights up his face. ‘Guess what, babe? Tonight’s your lucky night.’

I didn’t want to admit it but I couldn’t stop fantasizing about his dick. And even the thought of being dominated by him and being made to submit to him makes my pulses race. It isn’t natural to me, but he is right, I want him to completely possess me. To get on top of me and do whatever he desires. I want to be utterly, utterly dominated by him.

I lick my lower lips and with a snarl he throws me on the sofa. Tears my top and bra off me and looks with satisfaction at my breasts. He stands and begins to take his belt off.

‘Take your skirt off,’ he barks.

I obey instantly.

I hear a sharp intake of breath from him when he sees that I am naked underneath. He drops his trousers and his boxers, never taking his eyes off my displayed body. And I am staring wide-eyed at a very large and angry-looking dick. He sheathes himself in rubber, then reaches out and tugs at my nipples. Small sharp tugs that make my back arch.

He tugs much harder. ‘Were you?’

‘Was I what?’ I grunt.

He grabs my knees and spreads my legs open. ‘Were you always the man?’ he growls, and pushes his thick meat into me with punishing force.

My head rears back against the cushion. ‘Yes, fuck you. I was the man.’

’That’s all over with,’ he snarls and pulling out of me, slams back in. ‘You take what I give you.’

I clench my teeth. My thighs are shivering with need.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head farther back so my body is curved like a bow. ‘You do not have any say in or authority over what happens when we are fucking, do you understand?’