Series: Mister #5
Published by Self-Published on December 7th 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance
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Oliver Shrike thinks ahead. He likes to make lists and tick off boxes. He plans, he plots, and he’s got everything under control.
Until one day he sees my videos on his dating site. The private erotic videos I make just for him.
When I’m looking at the camera I can practically see his face. Hear the internal arguments. Feel his desire.
Because I’m that kind of woman.
You should delete my videos, Oliver Shrike. It’s your job to keep that dating site on the up and up.
But you don’t, do you?
You watch them. You get off to them. You crave them.
Every week I make a new one with you in mind. I’ve got you addicted to my body, my moans, my secrets.
I’ve hooked you now, Mr. Match. You’ve been in control for way too long and this is where it ends.
I seduced her that night. I seduced her with the tree, and the food, and the beer, and the music. My tattoos that transfixed her. The muscles she couldn’t stop touching. She was a girl. It was very plain by the way she let me fuck her that night.
Eager to please.
Tiny moans that made her embarrassed. Unwilling to do it standing up, or against the wall, or on the kitchen counter. Protest after protest for every kinky fucking idea I came up with.
Not there. Not like that. Not with the lights on. Not in front of the window. Not in the shower.
It makes me laugh now. Because in the end we fucked in all those places, in all those ways, and she came back for more.
I made my move before I even started cooking. Fingertips on her bare thigh brushing up against her skin. Just the slightest touch as I slipped my hand underneath that little tartan skirt and found the wet spot soaking through her panties. I fingered her through the thin cotton. She wanted to take them off but I was not in the mood to give in that night. I was in the mood to have everything my way. Just the way I wanted. For once.
She came with my fingers inside her. Her body folding against mine, her nails digging into the thick muscles of my shoulders. And then she sank to her knees. Her bare skin on that hard concrete floor.
She looked up at me and smiled.
I got my cock sucked good that night. She let me guide her any way I wanted. Opened wider on command. She let me face-fuck her. She licked my balls, fingered my asshole. Put her hands behind her back and looked me in the eyes.
I figured why not? Why not get one good night out of her?
She wants to be a whore? Make money dishing out the fantasy? I can be her customer.
I took her to my bedroom—which was nothing more than a mattress on the second-floor loft where tires were still being stored, and reachable only by a moving set of stairs on wheels.
I undressed her in the fading light. Just enough light to make her fair skin glow and look beautifully surreal. Her gun came off first. Put safely aside on an overturned crate acting as a bedside table. Then the blue blazer. The shirt was untucked next and I started unfastening the little clear buttons denying me a view of her breasts spilling out of that innocent white bra. I kissed her shoulder as I slipped the shirt down her arm and let it drop to the floor.
I left the skirt on and started eating her pussy while she was standing up. Her legs spread open just enough to give me access, my fingers pulling aside her already wet panties.
I didn’t let her come that time. Just played with her until her knees got weak and her thighs began to tremble. Then I took her hand and led her to the bed. Pushed her back against the pillows, opened her legs, and positioned myself between them.
“Take off my skirt. My underwear.”
“No,” I remember saying as I entered her. “I like the school-girl look.”
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