by Denise Avery
As it stood, Claire was still technically living with her boyfriend Tommy and still technically employed by Parker’s wife, Cheryl. She felt like she was living two entirely separate lives, and in many ways she was. Most of the time, she was Claire—not-too-skinny shop girl and recent graduate, soft-spoken and unambitious. But then, when she was with Parker, Claire was a whole new woman. She was sexy, adventurous, brave, and confident. Lately, it seemed as though that courageous Claire had been influencing her daily self more and more. She’s stopped taking Cheryl’s shit and work and Tommy’s nonsense at home.
Just that afternoon she’d explained to both of them that she would have to cut back on her commitments to them, as her job as Parker’s freelance photographer was eating up most of her time. This was something of a half truth, at best. It was true that Parker had taken Claire on as an employee, letting her snap photos at company events and the like. And it was also true that Claire enjoyed her job with Parker, as photography was her passion and what she always hoped to do for a profession.
The dishonest bit was, of course, that she was not actually on the job when she reported to be all the time. Most often, when she told Cheryl and Tommy that she needed to be away for an assignment, it meant that she was going to be spending the day fulfilling the wildest fantasies of her big, bad, dominant lover.
Both Cheryl and Tommy had started voicing subtle suspicions on the matter, which was incredible, given how self involved they both were. As Claire began to spend more and more time out of the apartment she shared with Tommy and more and more time away from the children’s store at which she worked for Cheryl, both had begun to cling more fiercely to her.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Claire,” Tommy had whined to her the night before, sitting at the foot of the twin bed that they had once shared, “Are you sure that I can’t sleep here with you tonight?”
“I told you Tommy,” Claire had sighed, rolling away from him, “I don’t feel comfortable sleeping next to you. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“What’s the wrong idea?”
“That I’m going to have sex with you.”
“Oh...” Tommy pouted, “But that sounds like a great idea to me!”
“Have you ever once considered the possibility that I might not enjoy sex with you as much as you do? I mean, honestly, how can you not have noticed that?”
“I dunno...” Tommy said guiltily.
“That’s what I thought. Now get back to the futon.”
And then, later that afternoon, Cheryl had given the guilt trip as well! Claire asked to leave fifteen minutes early so that she could “get to her other job on time” (which obviously meant “get your husband’s penis inside of me as soon as possible”), and Cheryl had given her the stink eye.
“You are so ungrateful, Claire,” Cheryl hissed, looking over their new shipment of baby bloomers and yoyo’s that cost more than Claire’s first car had. “Honestly, sometimes I can’t understand why your heart isn’t in your job here. Your career must not be very important to you, I suppose.”
Claire looked at Cheryl, nearly at a loss for words, “Cheryl,” she said, “You don’t actually think that I consider my job at this store to be a career, do you?”
Cheryl’s face turned a startling shade of purple and she glared at Claire with venom, “How dare you, Claire! Do you know how many girls would kill to have a cushy position like this?”
“Cushy?!” Claire cried, “You pay me ten dollars an hour without benefits and treat me like shit stuck to the bottom of your shoe!”
“You’re too sensitive,” Cheryl shrugged.
“Whatever,” Claire said, gathering her things, “I need to go.”
“Tell Parker that he’d better be home on time tonight. My girlfriends and I are hitting the town and I need someone to watch the kid,” Cheryl called after her. Claire turned on her heel, drew herself up, and locked eyes with her dreadful boss.
“Here’s a thought,” Claire said craftily, “Maybe if you treated Parker with a scrap of respect, he’d be attracted enough to you to sleep with you every once in a while. That five-year dry spell must really be getting to you, huh?”
Cheryl’s eyes bugged out her skeletal face, “How... How did you—” she spluttered, “Did Parker tell you that?!”
“Gotta run! Kisses!” Claire had yelled gleefully, skipping out the store. She knew that she would probably pay for her actions somewhere down the line, but her new relationship with Parker made her feel invincible, and brave enough to handle anything.
She was amazed by this new surge of confidence. Suddenly, anything in the world that she wanted, she felt she could go for. She felt comfortable in her skin, confident about her full hourglass figure that had caused her such anxiety in the skin-and-bones world of New York City. She even felt more confident about her work as a photographer. With Parker’s encouragement, she had started hauling her camera around everywhere she went, snapping photos of every image she found that enticed her. Parker was a big fan of her work, and with his blessing, she felt like an artist for the first time in her life.
But clearly not as escape artist, she thought to herself as she lay naked in wait for him at his townhouse/sex pad. No sooner had she arrived at his abode, fresh from her fight with Cheryl, that he had stripped her naked and tied her up, lickety split. She recalled the ease with which he had hauled her up the wooden stairs of the apartment, the eager lust that had clouded his blue eyes. She couldn’t wait for him to come back and teach her whatever lessons he had in store that day. With Parker, it was impossible to tell what was going to happen next. He was a guarded man who didn’t wear his emotions for the world to see. Claire had the idea that there was a lot more to him than met the eye, although what there was of him for the eye to see was deliciously complex in and of itself.
With a sudden pang of sadness, Claire wondered what Parker’s inner life was like. They’d spoken, at some length, about their lives outside of their affair, but Claire suddenly felt guilty that she hadn’t asked more about him from the start. He must have thought she was dreadfully self-involved. She resolved, in that moment, to find out more about the man behind the incredible dick as soon as she could.
As soon as she could turned out to be right at that moment. From her position on the bed, Claire saw a movement deep within the shadows of the cavernous room. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, she could tell that Parker’s impressive figure was stalking through the shadows toward her. She twisted against the ropes and sheets, working herself into a tizzy of anticipation. A strange, Pavlovian response had taken hold of her, of late. Whenever she knew that Parker was near, she could not help growing wetter than a dew-soaked lawn. Knowing he was in the room, she felt her pussy grow hot and moist. She hoped that she wouldn’t leave a mark on the sheets... but then again, perhaps she’d get a nice spanking if she did.
From the heavy darkness at the edge of the room, Parker emerged before her, towering at the foot of the four-post bed on which she lay naked, spread eagle, wet at the very thought of him. He feasted his eyes on her nude body—the sumptuous peaks of her enormous breasts, her full waist, the ass that you could just sink your teeth right into (and boy had he ever). Claire started at him, craning her neck to see over the mounds of her heavy breasts. Her legs were spread far apart, the lips of her pussy wide open for him to see. There was nothing protecting her from him, she was completely at his mercy, and that was exactly the way they both liked it.
“Hello, dear,” Parker said lightly. He was wearing a soft, luscious bathrobe and grinning that lopsided, irresistible grin that Claire had come to adore. She felt her head begin to swim and he loosened the belt of the robe, unleashing his naked, bristling body from its cotton-soft sheath. She watched as the garment fell away first from his shoulders, then his torso, and finally free of his hips. To her delight, he was already rock solid down there. His dick stood straight at attention, pulsing with desire for her. He was the largest man she had eve
r seen, and it was still a feat for her to be able to take all of his gigantic dick inside her. Still, she was committed to the task, and welcomed the challenge. The payoff, in this case, was far worth the effort.
Parker rested a hand against the footboard, smiling across the expanse of silken sheets at his young mistress. “You look as though you could use some help,” he teased, “Like one of those maidens tied to the railroad tracks in the old silent films.”
“Well,” Claire said, “If they enjoyed being bound half as much as I do, I think that those would be very different sorts of films, in the end.”
Parker chuckled appreciatively. They were always able to make each other laugh with their quick wits and banter. Another unexpected pang of guilt struck Claire in the gut. What was going on? Why did she all of a sudden feel so attached to her master of fuckery? She knew the score, that they were just having wild, passionate sex without any strings attached. By why was that suddenly not enough for her? Claire started long and hard at Parker, and was surprised as his expression began to change as well.
“What is it?” Parker said, and Claire was touched by the concern in his voice.
“Oh... It’s nothing,” Claire lied, not wanting to ruin the moment, “I just... Why don’t you come over here?”
Parker sneered at her, recovering from his moment of softness. “You know that I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready and done staring at your tight little pussy.”
There was the Parker she knew. Claire smiled back at him, not wanting to scare him away with her sudden anxieties about their relationship. “These ropes as scratching me up,” she whispered, tugged at her restraints, “Will you loosen them for me?”
“We both know you don’t really want that,” Parker chided her, pulling himself onto his knees at the foot of the bed, “Besides... if I do that, you might just end up scratching me again.”
Claire blushed deeply at the memory. The last time they had fucked, a few days ago, she had lost her head and left deep gashes in Parker’s back with her fingernails. She’d paid dearly for the transgression of their established dominant/submissive arrangement by not getting to have sex with him for three whole days! Her deep desire for him and lack of another outlet had driven her mad for those seventy-two hours, and she certainly didn’t want to mess anything up now that she was back in his bed.
“That’s why I had to bind you,” Parker explained, advancing toward Claire on all fours, “You’ve been dreadfully bad, Claire. Really you have.”
“I know, Parker. I know I have...” Claire gasped, her eyes fixed on the rippling muscles of Parker’s strong shoulders, the stiff expanse of his cock as it hung heavily between his toned and solid thighs. How could one man, who was more beautiful than any model or movie star she had ever seen in any magazine, be attracted enough to her to bring her back here time and again? His interest in her was almost beyond her comprehension and Claire was so grateful for it.
Claire felt her cheeks grow hot and wet, and she looked up at Parker in horror. She had started to cry, completely against her own will! She tried in vain to swallow down the tears, but the effort only made things worse. Parker caught sight of her sudden upset and sat back on his ankles, looking down at her with worry in his eyes.
“Claire,” he said softly, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
The kindness in his voice only pushed her into the realm of hysterics. The embarrassment of crying in front of him, coupled with the other emotions raging inside of her caused a flood of tears to spill forth from Claire’s eyes. She felt herself growing more grotesque, and would kick her own ass if she wasn’t tied up.
“I’m sorry...” she sobbed, “I don’t know what’s come over me...”
Though her vision was obscured with tears, Claire felt herself being released from the ropes that bound her and Parker’s soft hands wrapping her in a soft, silky sheet. He pulled her against her chest with all the compassion of young suitor and lay down beside her, rocking her softly as the waves of tears burst over her.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he cooed, “I just wish there was some way I could make you feel better. Did I scare you with all of this? I hope that I didn’t, Claire, I’d feel so terrible if that were the case.”
“No, no,” Claire said, sniffing through her tears, “It’s not that at all! I love everything about this, absolutely everything! You’re so wonderful... and patient... and kind—”
“Claire, I’ve tied you up in three different positions this week and dripped hot candle wax onto your tits.”
“Exactly!” Claire sobbed with fresh waterworks, “I didn’t know anything like this could ever be possible, but you’ve taught me so much! I just... I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me. How much I... I...”
“How much you what?” Parker said, looking at Claire seriously, “How much you what, Claire? How much you...?”
“I can’t say it!” Claire cried, looking desperately up into Parker’s eager face, “I can’t say what I want to say!”
“Fine,” Parker said, “I’ll start. Claire, I’m not a very emotionally available man, generally. I’ve succeeded as a businessman, as a professional, by closing down my emotional ties to everything. The last twenty years of my life have been nonstop competition, backstabbing, fighting tooth and nail to get to the top. I’ve used and abused so many people, tossed men and women aside when I could no longer use them to get ahead, you name it.
I thought that I was done for, that no one and nothing would ever be able to move me again. But then... Then one day while I was on the subway, I met an incredible young woman who, in an instant, began to thaw my heart out of its icy prison. That young woman was you, Claire. From the moment I laid eyes on you that day, I knew that I could open myself to you, show the wildest and dirtiest and messiest parts of my heart and soul and that you would accept me. I don’t know what it was about you that spoke to me. Of course you’re gorgeous, and bright, and beautiful, but you’re more than all that even. Claire, you’re... You’re the only person that’s ever captured my heart. I love you, Claire. I love everything about you. I just hope that you feel the same way.”
Claire stared at Parker, completely taken aback. He’d put words to everything she had been feeling for the past month, just like that. For the first time, they looked at each other as people in love, honest to goodness love that meant more than a quick illicit fuck. She felt her tears dry on her cheek and she laid a hand over his rapidly beating heart.
“I love you too, Parker,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said, “I’m glad that’s taken care of.” He leaned in to kiss her on the mouth, a novel treat that she rarely enjoyed, given the nature of the typical encounters. As his full, luscious lips closed around hers, they heard footsteps on the stairs. Claire sat bolt upright, looked around wildly.
“Who’s out there?!” she hissed, “Are we being robbed?”
Parker just smiled at her and pulled her closer to him. “Now, this is going to be unpleasant,” he said slowly, patting her ash blonde hair, “But just be brave. It’ll all be over in a minute.”
Claire began to tremble in fear and confusion, burrowing her face deeper into Parker’s chest and the footsteps advanced ever closer to their sex chamber. Her heart threw itself repeatedly against her ribcage until finally the door burst open. She peeked through her messy blonde hair and, with a terrible sinking of her stomach, saw that Cheryl was framed in the doorway.
The older woman blinked against the darkness of the room, seeming not to comprehend what she was seeing. Parker and Claire were tangled up in the silk sheets and each other’s limbs, stark naked and clutching each other. Ropes lay where Claire’s wrists and ankles had been, and a whip lay discarded on the carpet where Parker had left it moments before. Cheryl’s nostrils flared outrageously, and she drew in a deep shuddering breath. Claire was certain that when she let it out, she would be breathing fire, dragon that she was. But instead, Cheryl’s usually boisterous screeching came out as
a tiny, deadly whisper.
“What... the fuck... is going on?” the woman hissed, looking as though she could rip Claire apart before Parker’s eyes and eat them both for supper, underfed as she was. Claire looked wildly up at Parker, baffled by their poor fortune at having been walking in on by his wife. To her extreme amazement, Parker was laughing. She fell back against the silky sheets, doing her best to cover up before her boss and wondering what the hell was going on.
“Hey there, Cheryl!” Parker cried, cracking up at the sight of his wife. “How’s your day going, kiddo?”
“Parker... What is this?” Cheryl demanded, planting her hands firmly on the doorjamb, as if she might rip off a chunk of the wood and attack with it. “What are you doing in bed with this child?!”
“Excuse me” Claire interjected sweetly, “I’m actually twenty-two. And I think you’re breaking the door.”
Cheryl eased her grip on the doorframe, grimacing as specks of paint came off in her hand. She turned her vile gaze toward Parker, nearly foaming at the mouth. “Why did you ask me to come here while you were fucking around with my goddamned cashier?”
“Sales associate...” Claire mumbled.
“Shut up, you little slut!” Cheryl screeched.
Before Claire could retaliate, she heard something whizzing through the air and watched as the glass vase that had been on the bedside table smashed against the wall next to Cheryl’s head. Cheryl shrunk back, amazedly staring at her husband. Parker was glaring daggers at the woman, looking very happy with himself for having launched the glass at her.
“Don’t you ever speak to Claire like that,” he bellowed, wrapping a protective arm around the girl.
“What are you going to do about it?” Cheryl screeched, “Hit me like you always wanted to do, you sick fuck?”
“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” Parker shouted back, “And besides. I don’t want to touch your embalmed ass.”
“You son of a bitch...” Cheryl hissed.
