by Alexis Angel
Each word that leaves his lips is like opium, traveling from my ears to my brain and drowning it in numbness. I try to think of an appropriate response, but all I can do is mouth an anxious “yes.” He takes one step forward, pushing me back and pinning me against the wall. My heart is drumming so hard I half-expect it to claw its way out of my chest anytime now.
“I own you. Right now, you’re mine,” he says, leaning in and whispering in my ear, his full lips brushing against my skin. My heart rises and falls at a hurried pace, my lungs working overtime as his eyes seem to devour me. Impatient with my silence, he yanks harder on my hair, his lips turning into a hard line. “Say it.”
What the hell is going on? If any guy treated me like this in the strip club I’d have the bouncers kick his ass in the blink of an eye. Hell, I wouldn’t tolerate this from any of my past boyfriends! But, somehow, his hard eyes locked on mine, I find my brain shutting down, my unconscious hidden thoughts crawling out of their cages.
“I’m yours,” I find myself saying, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.
“You are,” he grins, the way his lips curl upward makes him look even more beautiful. “And you’ll do everything I tell you to.”
“I will do everything you tell me to,” I repeat, my mouth turning dry. Of course, as my mouth goes dry, my pussy becomes wetter than it has ever been—maybe there’s some correlation there.
Still with one hand on my hair, he takes the other one to the hemline of my dress, the tip of his fingers brushing against the naked skin above my right knee. I feel my skin prickling as his fingers hike up my leg, gently lifting the dress in the process. The closer he gets to my pussy, the wetter I become, a wildfire of desire spreading inside of me. I almost reach for his wrist and force his hand against my pussy, but I’m so entranced by his touch I simply stand still, the perfect victim to his teasing.
Unblinking, I stare into his eyes as his fingers close in on my groins, my insides burning with anticipation. But instead of simply going for it, he simply traces the contour of my thong with his index finger, going back and forth over both my groins without actually touching my pussy. Guided by unconscious desire, I find myself bucking my hips at him, aching to feel his hand on me. The moment I do it, he takes his hand out from under my dress and yanks on my hair again.
“Stand still,” he tells me, deviousness flickering in his eyes. I nod, pursing my lips and trying to ignore my own instincts. Stand still, I repeat to myself, the words echoing inside my head. In an instant, his hand is under my dress again, his index finger gently running along the place where fabric and skin meet. He goes like that for what seems like an eternity, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute. It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re so wet your juices have soaked your underwear completely. Then he finally turns his wrist and flattens the palm of his hand over the front of my thong. I can’t help but gasp as I succumb to the pressure of his fingers on my pussy. I throw my head back and close my eyes, a sweet numbness embracing every single one of my nerve endings.
Arsen starts rubbing my pussy softly, his fingers pressed tight over my wetness. A purred moan leaves my lips as he does it, the whole world fading away around me. With a flick of his fingers he pulls my thong to the side and brushes one fingertip over my labia, his touch making my brain almost explode.
“You’re so wet,” he says, his finger going back and forth over my drenched lips. “I love it.”
“Please,” I mutter, not even understanding what I’m asking for. I want him to slide his finger deep inside of me, I want to feel his cock pushing past my inner lips and lodging itself inside my pussy. I want it all, and I want it right now.
Before I can even react, he parts my inner lips and slides his finger in, moving it inside me like a hook and pressing his fingertip in that sweet hidden spot. I moan again, this time louder, and he presses harder against my G-spot. I swear to God, I’m so delirious with desire I have no idea how I’m managing to stand still.
He starts to move his finger in and out of my pussy, each time his hand moves the rhythm growing. Soon enough his finger is moving so fast I’m no longer moaning, I’m just trying to keep breathing through the avalanche of sensations that rages inside of me. Letting go of my hair, he takes his other hand to between my thighs and presses his thumb over my clit, applying just enough pressure to force a moan out of my lips once more.
Working on my clit with his thumb, his index finger flying in and out of my pussy, he guides me to the edge and, with a simple word, throws me off of it.
“Come,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. “Come for me.”
Just like that, I go off. I close my eyes again, breathing hard through my gritted teeth as all muscles in my body become tight and hard, uncontrollable tension pooling in every single fiber of my being. Like a bomb, pleasure explodes inside of me, my muscles letting go of all that tension as a forceful scream leaves my throat. My voice quivers as he stops moving his finger and just presses it hard against my G-spot, rubbing it there with the mastery of a man who knows women almost too well.
I press my back against the wall, trembling as he slides his finger out of my pussy and looks me in the eyes.
“This was just a taste,” he grins, that sweet mischievousness in his lips driving me completely mad. “Plenty more to come… If you behave, that is.” As he speaks, he brings his fingers up to my face, and lays the one he had inside of me against my lips. The scent of my own pussy climbs up my nostrils, and I find myself opening my mouth gently, allowing him to slide his finger in. He slides it all the way in, my tongue running along its length and licking it dry of my own juices. Tasting myself I grow even wetter, wanting much more than to just be fingered. I mean, if he can make me feel like this using only one finger and one word, what else can he do? Oh, judging by the look in his eyes, I’m going to find out pretty soon.
My instincts taking the wheel, I reach for his crotch, anxious to feel him and find out what he hides under his expensive clothing. But, the moment my hand is just an inch away from him, he moves quickly and grabs my wrist.
“Not yet,” he tells me firmly, letting go of my wrist and taking a step backward. “You’ll have to earn that.”
I lick my lips, anxious to do whatever’s necessary to earn it. I still can’t believe I’m letting him act like this, dominating me as if I were nothing more than a naive innocent girl … But he’s so damn intoxicating. And I’m not just talking about his good looks; no, it goes deeper than that. One hard look into his eyes is enough to realize that Arsen Hawke is more than just a man; he’s almost from a completely different breed. Standing here, in the presence of a man who seems so perfect it’s almost unbelievable, what else can I do than obey every single one of his words? Sure, I won’t let him push me around forever … but my body demands me to do it right now. I can’t help but submit.
Arsen takes another step back and loosens his tie, opening the top button of his shirt as his eyes wander all over my body. I feel him devouring every single inch of naked skin in me, and I know he’s aching for more.
“Turn around,” he tells me, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. The moment his words caress my eardrums, I’m turning on my heels, my back to him as my heart thumps louder against my chest. “Your dress, take it off. Slowly.”
I take one deep breath, moving my hands to my shoulders and pushing the straps of my dress down my arms. I feel the fabric drooping over my breasts, and I pull on it until my dress is hanging around my waist. Hooking my fingers on it, I sway my hips from side to side, slowly letting the fabric fall down my legs into a heap at my feet.
His shoes click across the floor as he takes one step toward me; I fight against all of my urges and remain in place, every fiber in my body screaming for me to turn around and face him. I feel his fingertips over the dimples in my lower back, and then he runs them all the way up to my shoulder blades; he moves his fingers across the edge of my bra, stopping only to undo the clasp th
ere. He does it with one single movement, the cups drooping over my breasts.
I half-expect him to pull the straps down my shoulders, but instead he takes one step back. “Take it off,” he commands me, my arms moving by themselves in response. I push the straps down my arms, and then I let the bra fall down to the floor, right on top of my dress. My nipples are hard, almost desperate to feel his fingers, mouth, and skin on them.
For a long second, he says nothing. I close my eyes as I feel him appreciating my body, the air around both of us becoming heavier and charged with electricity. I can almost feel the desperate need he has to see me taking my thong off, and still he waits, letting the fire of anticipation rage in both of our bodies.
“You look so fucking perfect,” he says, moving fast toward me and pressing his body against mine. My hands go to the wall and I unconsciously jut my ass back at him, my rear pressed tight against his crotch. I sigh deeply as I feel his thick shape straining against his pants, pulsing with desire and lust. He laces my waist, pressing his forearm over my stomach as he pulls me into him, bucking his hips at me at the same time. He’s thick and long, probably the biggest I have ever felt… And let me tell you, when you work in a strip club you get to feel a lot of cocks.
I sway my hips from side to side, the bulging in his pants pushing against my ass cheeks as I move. Arsen runs his free hand up and down my side, his long fingers only stopping when they meet the small string of fabric that delineates my thigh—he hooks them there, on my thong, and pulls viciously. Just one pull and he tears my thong apart, the fabric sliding off my body in such a hurried way that I can’t help but gasp.
His lips are on my neck as I grind my ass against his cock, everything in me burning with a frantic desire to get him out of his clothes. I reach behind my back, wanting to place my hand over his crotch, but once again he grabs my wrist, pinning my whole arm behind my back.
“You want it that much?” He asks me while I try and fight back against the hold he has on me. It’s impossible: he’s simply too strong.
“I do,” I respond, leaning forward and pressing my forehead against the wall, as my breathing grows heavier. The moment the words leave my lips, he lets go of me. He takes two steps back, the absence of his body on mine almost too painful to endure. Reacting on instinct, I turn on my heels, my feet making me follow after him.
“Stop,” he says firmly, and I stop dead in my tracks. We’re just a few inches away, and that is almost enough to drive me insane—to know that I could just reach for his shirt and start peeling it off of him … “On your knees,” he continues, my body once again responding without his commands having to be filtered by my brain. I don’t know what it is about him, but the moment he speaks, I do it. As soon as my knees touch the floor, my heart is pounding hard again, my eyes glued to the thick shape straining against his pants. “How bad do you want it?”
“I want it bad,” I say, my voice quivering as he starts to unbuckle his belt. I can’t even blink, my eyes glued to what’s happening in front of me. With slow teasing movements he takes the belt out from his pants and throws it on the floor; his fingers then go back to his crotch, unbuttoning it with deliberate and maddening patience. Each buttons he undoes, my heart kicks and punches harder against my ribcage … And with each button he pops out, his cock strains harder against his boxer briefs.
“Then have it,” Arsen says, reaching for my hair and yanking my head back. He leans down toward me and presses his mouth against mine, our kiss one of wildness and frenzied lust. When he stands up again, my hands are moving toward his crotch; I hook my fingers on the side of his pants and slowly pull them down to his knees. My fingers go up his legs and over his underwear, but never touching his cock. I want to touch it more than anything, but I want to make him feel the poison of anticipation in his veins.
I let my fingers move up and down—up to his waist and then down to the hem of his boxers. I do it over and over again, never taking my eyes off of his thick shape, seeing it pulse more harshly every time my fingers go near it. Then, unable to put it off any longer, I flatten the palm of my hand against his bulging. I bite my lower lip as I feel him under my hand, his cock so big my insides clench. Is he going to fit inside me? Is it going to hurt?
Leaning forward, I close my eyes and tilt my head sideways. I part my lips slightly and rest them against the shape of his cock, sucking on it over the fabric of his boxers. It pulses against me, eager to be set free and unleashed upon my body. Oh, I yield to its wishes pretty easily: hooking my fingers on his boxer briefs, I pull them down, his cock springing free in a heartbeat. As I lay eyes on it, I feel my heart tight inside my chest. To feel it is one thing, but to see it… God, he’s huge—and absolutely perfect.
I run my fingers over his groins and, my heart drumming so fast it might burst any moment now, I rest my index finger over his shaft. As slowly as I can, I slide it up from his root to the glans, then move it back down again; stretching my fingers wide, I cup his balls, feeling their weight with the palm of my hand. I roll them over my hand, their warmness spreading to my fingers, hand and arms, and filling me with uncontrollable desire.
The moment I realize what I’m doing, I’m already leaning forward, my fingers curling around his shaft and pointing it straight to my mouth. I part my lips and rest them over his glans, scooping up his pre-cum with the tip of my tongue and letting his salty flavor inundate me.
His hands are on my head, but he’s just feeling the gentle sway of my body, letting me follow my own rhythm. I lap at his glans with my tongue, running it in slow circles around his tip as I start moving my hand back and forth, his pulsing thickness feeling alive under my fingers.
Moving my head sideways, I run my tongue from his tip to the root, licking the whole length of his shaft as I look up at him. The moment we lock eyes, I feel my pussy clenching—something primal and wild roars inside of me, and I know that in a few heartbeats I’ll be completely out of control.
I open my mouth wide and, leaning forward, wrap my lips tightly around his tip; I keep moving forward, his shaft rolling over my lips and tongue as he slides deep inside of my mouth. I feel it pushing down on my tongue and straining against my cheeks but I keep going. I only stop when I feel his tip at the back of my throat, my mouth completely filled with his cock.
I start bobbing my head, moving it back and forth over his cock. Going from his tip to the base, I start to go as fast as I can, cupping his balls with one hand. With my free hand I grab his shaft and, moving it in tandem with my mouth, I start to stroke him. Suddenly, I feel his fingers hooking themselves in my hair and he forces me stop. I look up at him, his cock still inside my mouth, and he simply grins. Deviousness flickering in his eyes, he starts to thrust, making his cock slide in and out of my mouth at a growing pace. It doesn’t take long for him to be moving so fast I have to open my mouth as wide as I can, his cock fucking me relentlessly. Closing my eyes as his shaft flies in and out of me, I can’t help but wonder how it’s going to feel when he’s doing this to my pussy.
Still holding my head in place, he rests his free hand on my shoulder and lets it fall down to my breasts. Easing down his rhythm, he runs his fingers over the curve of my right breast and circles my hard nipple carefully. Then, the moment he pulls his cock out of my mouth, he pinches my nipple between his thumb and index finger; I gasp, my insides clenching as my hand starts moving again, stroking him as fast as I can.
Electricity spreading across my body from the pressure he’s applying on my nipple, I lunge forward, my parted lips resting against his shaft. I lick his cock sideways, running my lips and tongue over his length and going down to his balls; there, I open my mouth and suck one in, rolling it around inside me as I keep on stroking him furiously. Looking up at him, I can’t help but feel victorious delight from seeing him with his eyes closed, head slightly thrown back in ecstasy. He might know how to drive women completely insane, but I’m not a woman anyone should underestimate. After all, I was the reason thousands of
men lied to their wives and went to the strip club to spend their hard-earned cash.
Suddenly, Arsen yanks on my hair and forces my head back, my eyes locking on his. He’s breathing hard, the corner of his lips turning upward. “Stand up,” he tells me. Reluctantly, I let go of his cock and go up to my feet.
I don’t even have enough time to think about what’s happening: he’s on me in an instant, his body pressed tightly against mine. He pins me against the wall, one hand cupping my left breast while the other grabs one buttock. I throw my head back, his lips on my neck; he nibbles my skin there gently, going all the way from my neck to my lips. We kiss in abandonment, my anxious hands darting to his collar.
I start unbuttoning his shirt, my trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons on their way down. His hard pectorals brush against my knuckles and, the moment the last button pops out, I run both my hands from his stomach to his chest, feeling every hill and ridge of his muscles. From his perfectly carved abdominals to the ropes of muscles in his arms, everything in him seems designed with only one objective in mind: perfection. See those male models that often don the covers of magazines? Yeah, they don’t hold a candle to Arsen’s body. In fact, perfect is a poor word to describe him.
He doesn’t give me much time to appreciate his body, though; as I pull his shirt down his arms, he grabs me firmly by the hips and makes me turn around. I place my hands on the wall as I face it, suddenly feeling more exposed than I have ever been in my entire life. And I used to be a stripper, for God’s sake! But with Arsen it’s different… He’s perfect in every sense of the word and, somehow, I want him to feel the same way about me too.
I stand still, not moving and barely breathing as I hear him kick off his shoes. I hear the rustle of his pants and I can almost picture him as he strips naked—more than anything I want to look over my shoulder at him, but I manage to control these urges. Then I feel him breathing close to my neck. As his mouth touches my skin I close my eyes by instinct, succumbing to the perfect way his velvety red lips caress the contour of my neck. Carefully grabbing a handful of hair, he brushes it over my shoulder, his kisses hiking up to my ear.
