ABSOLUTION - A Dark Bad Boy Romance Novel

by Gabi Moore

  25 December

  It’s a Christmas miracle. I sat on Santa’s lap, if you know what I mean, and told him what I wanted. He was a bit old for me, I think. He stuck his finger in my ass and told me I was a dirty little whore, and that got me off. He was nice and big too. He left a little bruise on my right thigh. Sadly, it faded before anyone saw it. I guess I could see myself fucking older men. Even really old ones with beards. Although it might just be the Christmas spirit and all the hard eggnog talking. I’d say eight out of ten.

  3 May

  I really should stay far away from married men. God, so much drama. I think tonight I finally met a cock too big for me to actually handle, and you’d think that was a good thing, but it came attached to a real downer of a guy. Seriously, he was this really sad guy who kept whining about his wife and to be honest, it was a total turn off. But honestly, I was dreaming about that cock for days afterwards. Four out of ten for the guy, nine out of ten for his dick.

  1 March

  I changed my mind. Older guys are definitely no good. Yesterday I “poached” (as Abby would say) this college kid and we went for a kebab and beer and he acted like he’d never seen a pussy in his life before. He was so quick about everything, like he was still afraid his mom would catch him in the act or something. I guess it was kind of hot. I’m just in a quantity over quality mood, I guess. Nine out of ten.

  I cracked my knuckles, took the pen in my hand and wrote down the date, then started scratching away on the pages:

  22 November

  Stupid fight with Todd. I hate him. But I’ve also discovered a new thing for cum. I’m thinking about what it would take to get a room full of men to cum all over me. Money, probably. Which I have. Or if not ON me, then in me. A whole lot of it. Does it mix, inside you? How much would it take before I was literally overflowing? I fucked Pablo all yesterday and last night I met up with the Romanian guy again. I went on all fours and he fucked me really, really deep. I squealed like a pig. Ten out of ten.

  I re-read what I had written, pen tip in my mouth, then clapped the book shut and put it back in its little compartment, sliding it under the bigger drawer so nobody knew it was there at all.

  When I had first met Todd, I thought he was the man of my dreams. I was just a wreck. A fucking problem child if ever there was one. But what problem could I ever have, little old me, that he couldn’t solve? He was strong and rich and smart and perfectly in control. He had a solution for everything. He understood me, and he took care of me. To say I was head over heels would be putting it mildly.

  And then something happened. I don’t know what happened. But I began to hate him, I think. I know, I’m an asshole. I didn’t deserve him. I had the perfect life and I was ruining it, as fast as I could. I don’t know why I did it, to be honest. He wasn’t the same anymore.

  We had always laughed at the old stuffed suits he worked with. And now he was one of them. He used to tell me how different I was from all the other wives and girlfriends. And now I was trying so hard to be as much like them as possible.

  I didn’t want his money anymore. Who knows what anyone ever wants.

  I stripped off all my clothing and looked at myself naked in the mirror. That’s how I’d really like to go to the party. I left everything in a pile on the floor – they’d be nice and wrinkled by the time I had to leave for the dinner. I slinked out of my dressing room.

  I decided I’d have a nice skinny dip to start the day.

  Chapter Four - Natasha

  “Watch out, you’re going to rip it!” I giggled and sure enough, I heard the slow, unmistakable zzzzziiiiippp of fabric tearing.

  I looked down and saw a big gash on the side ruching, revealing my naked flank underneath. I laughed. He laughed too.

  “Fucking animal!” I said and slapped his chest, and he kissed me again. I felt his cock twitch and bounce inside me. I leaned into him and kissed back, hard and with drunken abandon.

  He slipped one rough hand into the tear and touched my skin. His hand was wide enough that the tear got bigger. His other hand was tight around my waist, pulling me into him. He was a strong guy, eager as hell, pawing at me like he hadn’t fucked in ages and was about to explode. His strong abs tightened and relaxed, bringing his hips strongly up and into mine, fucking me deep and hard as his dark eyes watched me, a little glazed over.

  “This is what you want, huh? You like this?” he breathed, voice thick. He seemed genuinely surprised that oh yes, I liked it very much. He pumped into me with more urgency, almost as though he was worried I might change my mind any second. His hot cock slid in and out of me, my thankful pussy slick through the length of him. He still had the smell of the kitchens on him – a little sweaty, a little warm. He’d be back to serving canapes with the very same hands he was working over me now.

  “Yes, it’s what I fucking want.”

  “You like this? Getting fucked by a stranger?”

  I felt his voice growing a little more desperate, a little more out of control. Just the thought of him exploding a stream of hot cum inside me was enough to send a shiver all down my spine.

  “I love it. I love this right here…” I said and pressed myself into him, pulling his gorgeous cock deeper into me still, so it stroked at that delicious spot right inside me. I wanted him to feel my naughty little body pulsing and convulsing around him.

  He moaned and threw back his head. I could feel him shudder. It might have been the cold corrugated steel pressing against his naked knees, or it might have been the chill night air, or it might have been the fact that he was balls-deep in some hot-shot’s wife, fucking in an alleyway like he wasn’t just a moment ago taking drinks orders.

  My back to the corrugated garage door, I opened my hips to him, one leg bent and in the air, loosely wrapped around his body. He pinned me to that steel door, and each thrust was a metallic bang against it. To be fucked by a stranger was exactly what I wanted.

  My black velvet gloves had slipped halfway down, my pink dress was rolled up nearly to my waist, and my tiara was hanging loose somewhere by my ear. This handsome boy, his cock buried deep inside me where that asshole Todd would never reach, well, he would get an ten out of ten for sure.

  I giggled, feeling the first goosebumps of an orgasm flirting on the edge of my awareness. I was so soaked that a wet sound accompanied each bang of the metal. I was going to come soon. He was going to come soon.

  And then it happened. Inside the glowing yellow square leading back into the building, in the frame of the door leading back into the well-lit kitchens of the fancy house of this fancy function, I saw a silhouette. The dark form of a man appeared in the doorway and stood there, the light behind him. My body twitched around the cock of a man I had met barely five minutes ago, and the light was dim and my head was buzzing, but it was clear as day: Todd.

  He stood in that doorway for a lifetime, his strong arms resting calmly at his sides, his legs spread wide. A handsome man. A dangerous man. The shape was just a shape. Just a black, man-shaped hole in my world. But through the rapidly approaching waves of my orgasm, I could recognize him anywhere. I knew his form. I knew that attitude. And in the darkness, he looked back at me.

  He watched me being fucked.

  Here it was, raw and real and obvious as it would ever be: I was a cheating whore of a wife and I had opened my legs for this random stranger, and let him screw me at the back of a kitchen in the darkness, and I was fucking enjoying myself. He watched me. And I watched him watching me. He didn’t move. He just looked on. The kitchen boy kept going, unawares.

  I threw my hair back and gave a long, theatrical moan. Let him see. Let him see me coming down hard, clenching all around another man’s dick. Let him see just how much pleasure someone else could give me. In no time, I felt something deep inside me shiver and soon I was bucking and orgasming hard, my hips knocking into the corrugated iron behind me, the waiter clasped all around me as he, too, collapsed into a hot, thundering orgasm.

  I ye
lped and gasped out loud. All at once, the waiter seemed to sense the change in light behind me and turned to see the imposing shadow. He yanked out of me and pulled up his pants with lightning speed, fumbling half apologies to me or to nobody, then scurried off, hiding his face, his bow tie sideways.

  It was just me and the shadow. Knees weak, I leaned against the cool iron door and stared at him. I couldn’t make out his eyes, or his mouth, or any part of his expression. But I could feel it. It had finally happened. What I had wanted, in one sick way or another, had finally happened. I had been discovered.

  Now he knew without a doubt. Now he couldn’t ignore me any longer. Fuck him.

  My thighs were wet. My heart was still beating. My dress was scrunched up to reveal my bare little pussy. He took one step, then two, down the staircase and walked deliberately down to me. I squeezed my legs together and found one last flutter from my orgasm. My body twitched. Good. Let him see. Let him see how little I cared.

  He stood in front of me, his features finally coming into view. Todd. My husband. There was no more information in that face than when he was veiled in shadows. He was calm. As per fucking usual. He looked down at my body, then back up into my face.

  There was no contempt. No anger. I felt a sick twinge of panic. But I felt something else too: I wanted more. I wasn’t even done yet. No sooner had the last pulses of my orgasm faded did a new hunger spring up in me.

  I had a wild vision of him throwing me against the steel and fucking me himself, hard, as a punishment. Of his hand round my throat, as he claimed me back, told me to behave, told me that I was dirty and needed some discipline.

  But he didn’t. He stared down at my quivering body, as if he knew how hot and hungry I was right then, but he remained cool and calm. His jaw tightened and I thought I saw something flash in his eyes, but then he said simply, in the most unremarkable of voices, “get your things, we’re leaving.”

  Waves of humiliation washed over me. I looked hard at him, trying to find something in those stony features. Anything. Any hint of emotion. He turned to leave but I swear I could feel it. I swear that I saw it: a moment of weakness. A moment where he wasn’t in complete control. It wasn’t a word or a facial feature. But I felt it somehow. In my body.

  He wasn’t angry. He was turned on.

  Chapter Five - Todd

  “It will likely only be next month we can catch him again, though,” she said. “He’s going to be in China for basically the next few weeks after this.”

  “That’s fine. Cancel anyway,” I said.

  “But what I’m saying is that if you don’t get everyone in a meeting tomorrow, it won’t happen again for at least a month.”

  “Anne, I’m aware of that. I want you to cancel anyway.”

  She heard the tension in my voice and dropped the issue. I didn’t care who would be left waiting and for how long – I wasn’t going in to work today, and I wouldn’t be joining the partners in Switzerland tomorrow, end of story. I had other business to tend to. I hung up.

  My secretary Gilly is a sweet girl, smart, if a little bit of a pushover. I could probably fuck her, if I wanted to, and given enough time. But I wouldn’t. Ever. Because that’s not who I am. Cheating is for …I don’t even have the right words to describe what I feel about those who deliberately lie and deceive others. Even the idea of it shuts my brain down.

  I picked up one of Natasha’s trashy magazines and flipped through it. Grainy photos and screaming headlines. This one is sleeping with that one, this one may be pregnant. Candid shots of famous cellulite. Make up. Trash. I threw it down again. The house was rather pleasant during the days. Without me in it.

  Sitting in the conservatory, French windows opening out onto the pools, I can’t imagine how anybody could be so unhappy here. But Natasha found a way.

  I leaned back in my wicker seat and watched the fountains flicking into the air and splashing back into the cool green water. Blue skies. Crisp, clean air. Birdsong and expensive white linen curtains blowing in the wind. It was a perfect day. And I was ready for a show down.

  I looked at my watch. It was already 10 am. When the fuck did she ever wake up? I was just about to change up my plan when I heard soft footsteps and saw her. She was naked, groggy, hair looking as disheveled as it always did. She padded on bare feet into the tiled conservatory and made her way to the pool, without noticing me. For a few moments, I was struck by just how beautiful she was. For a woman that lived on booze, coffee and Pop Tarts, she had an unbelievable figure.

  It was too much. She gave you the feeling of a fruit that’s just slightly too ripe, or heady white flowers that are so sweet and fragrant they nearly nauseate you. Her breasts were full on the bottom, and swung gently, and she had graceful lines from her sides down over her flat belly and into the narrow V in between her legs. Without anything on, I felt a brief pang of longing for her, as I remembered her, years ago.

  She saw me and froze. Her nipples were the most singular shade of dusty pink. I could see she had been crying.

  “You’re supposed to be in Switzerland,” she said, as though I was a ghost she was trying to explain to herself.

  “Yes, well, I didn’t go. Clearly.”

  She looked around the room, a little startled, and then took a few steps towards me. She seemed so comfortable naked. In fact, I felt naked on her behalf. She looked down at the tabloid magazines, and then at me, out of work clothes for a change.

  “Why?” she said, big eyes scanning me.

  I shrugged and laced my fingers behind my head.

  “Well, let’s just say you were right. I am working too much these days. So I took a day off.”

  She eyed me suspiciously and perched on the edge of the lounge chair. I could scarcely believe that this same woman had less than 24 hours ago stared straight into my face, dress hiked up to her waist, getting fucked by the hired help. But it was her. I had seen it. It was burned into my memory and now I couldn’t stop from seeing it. Somehow, though, I had trouble reconciling the woman in front of me with that burnt-in image.

  “Come sit down with me. Want some coffee?” I said, and started to pour her a cup.

  She came over and took the steaming mug from me, then pressed her lips to the rim without drinking.

  “Last night…” she started, doing everything with her eyes except making eye contact with mine. She stopped, waiting for me to finish for her. To jump in, no doubt. To chastise her. But that wasn’t what I was going to do.

  “Yes, you shouldn’t have done that,” I said casually.

  She shot me a look, eyes as big as saucers.

  I took a sip from my own cup and then looked out over the pool water, noticing the silkiest, faintest little ripples put there by the breeze.

  “I can understand that you weren’t fond of the dress I picked out for you. But I still wish you could have worn something a little more flattering to your figure.”

  Another sip.

  She stared at me dumbfounded. I was enjoying this.

  “So …you’re not angry…?” Her whole face a question mark. She was hunched over, a little girl in the principal’s office, and her gorgeous tits hung low and ripe between her crossed arms.

  “Angry? Psshh! Of course not, how could I be angry?

  “But…”

  “I’ve just never been a fan of pink, that’s all. Nothing to get angry over,” I said, and her face was priceless. She looked like a child who’d been given an ice cream cone only to have it snatched away again. We sat in silence. She looked out over the pool with me, and everything was still for a moment.

  “I’m going for a swim,” she said at last, and rose to walk toward the pool.

  “Hey, Natty?”

  “Yes?” Her hair was almost translucent in the sun.

  “Do you always swim naked?”

  A look I don’t think I’d ever seen on her before flitted strangely over her face.

  “Yes,” she said simply, after thinking about it for a while.
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br />   “It’s kind of naughty, don’t you think?” I asked, smiling easily at her. She said nothing.

  “I just mean, there are so many cleaners coming and going, and with the construction going on next door …you’d think you’d be in quite a bit of danger of being seen.”

  I loved seeing her off-kilter like this. Loved watching her face go quiet as she tried to piece things together. With a little thrill, I realized how immensely she was turning me on. Her nipples, the warm air, the way her hair made a little halo around her naked face. I wanted her. I was madder at her than I had ever been in my life. And yet…

  To my surprise, she shrugged and smiled right back at me.

  “It is a little naughty, you’re right. But I just love the water on my naked skin, you know? It’s just the nicest way to start the day.”

  “Oh?”

  “Absolutely. And anyway, even if someone does see me…” here she paused and then lowered her voice a little, “to be honest I kind of like the idea” she said and then smiled coyly.

  I looked at her carefully. There it was. I could see it clearly now. That naughty glint in her eye that had attracted me to her all those years ago, drawn like a moth to an atom bomb. It was the first look that had punctured me to my core, made me forget myself. The look that had made me want to marry her within a month of meeting her, and whisk her away for crazy whirlwind holidays filled with quirky gestures of love and promises that yes, we were crazy to do it all, and yes, we didn’t care one bit.

  I swallowed hard, becoming aware of the stiffness in my pants. She giggled and turned, slinking towards the pool, one bare foot on the warm tiles after the other. She balanced on the edge, contemplating how to get in: one big splash, or one goosebump inducing step at a time.

  “Do you remember the fashion shows you used to do for me?” I said. I had no idea where that came from. I never planned to say it. I just blurted it out. She wheeled around and grinned at me. How could she ever forget? The game was that she was always naked, hence it was the most useless ‘fashion show’. She would have fun parading around naked in front of me, and I would pretend to be a very serious fashion connoisseur, and the in-jokes were endless. I don’t remember when we made our last in-joke. Our last ‘fashion show’.