His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Beaming from ear to ear as his mouth struggled to keep up with the pace of his brain.
“I want a nice strong woman. A bad girl who’s going to treat me like her slave. Make me her bitch.”
I wanted to stop him right there and laugh hysterically as I walked my ass home, but this shit was just too good to pass up. I could seriously make money off a hidden camera segment on this douche.
“You want me to smack you around, Thomas? I think I can do that.” I chuckled to myself thinking about how much pleasure I would take in smacking him around considering how much of a dick he had been to everyone during the night.
Hell, the waitress alone took more abuse than any server I’ve ever encountered in history. If I was her, I would have thrown my high priced apron and told him to go shuck his own oysters in hell.
“Why don’t we get outta here?” Thomas suggested, tossing a couple hundred dollar bills on the table like they were singles.
Stopping to pull out my chair like an actual gentlemen, I was shocked since it was the first time all night he’d been decent. It had me questioning for a second where my douche date had gone. One little mention of filthy sex and he slipped straight in to sweet puppy mode. The dirty dog.
As we sped in the direction of my apartment complex a number of scenarios ran through my head, all ending with Thomas not wanting to leave my apartment after I finally let him in and had my way with him. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t the least bit interested in whatever this slave game was going to turn into.
I mean, I’ve read about those kinky ass dudes on the internet. I don’t live under a rock. These rich CEO’s wanted to be slapped around, and hell some even paid women to do it for them. I probably could have made a fortune off this asshole.
The Porsche whipped around the curve, and into a guest parking spot only a few feet from the door of my building. Clearly in a hurry, Thomas ran around the car and opened my door.
“My Mistress,” he said, reaching for my hand, as I stepped out of the car far more gracefully than earlier.
Point one in my ball court for not busting my face open without Small Peen there to catch me.
“So, how does this work?” I asked as we walked to the door.
Taking my sweet time to unlock the door and allow him entrance to my home, I asked unimportant questions. I mean, I didn’t want to let him in until I knew what kind of can of worms I was opening up.
“You tell me what to do, and I do it,” he answered.
I couldn’t help but take him up on that offer. I mean, wouldn't you? Don’t lie. You totally would.
Without thinking my hand raised and I slapped him straight across the face. The impact of my palm on his cheek echoed through the stairwell of my apartment building. The look in his eyes was pure lust. Any normal person would have been pissed. Nope, not Thomas. Not one bit.
Minutes later I found myself naked as the day I was born, spread eagle on my kitchen counter with Thomas feasting on my pussy like a man on death row indulging on his last meal. All because that’s what I told him to do.
Every command I made, he complied. Rub my tits. Hands flew to massage. Pinch my nipples. Done on command. Make me come and I was the lucky recipient of two mind blowing orgasms.
The whole deal was pretty awesome. An hour later, I felt bad for the guy. I was queen of the castle and he didn’t even get as much as a hand job. So I asked a question that would go down in history as the weirdest shit to ever happen to me. “What do you want, Thomas?”
“Let me play with you, Julia. Just a little bit.” His tone was pleading and since it was only fair, I decided to give him that.
“Condoms are in the drawer next to the bed.” I instructed him to go get one, and watched his naked ass scurry down the hallway.
What’s the worst that could happen? It can't really get any more screwed up. I told myself trying to make excuses for how far I had let the night go.
Thomas made his way back into the kitchen fully sheathed in latex and ready to go. He stood across the room eying me like a meal and I wiggled my ass down off the kitchen counter and bent over the kitchen table. Maybe if I provoked him, he would make his move so I could finally go to bed.
“Just how I like it,” he said as his hands wrapped around my hips.
His erection pressed against my entrance, and I sent up a silent prayer that he would in fact be the minute man I anticipated. His thrusts quickened at an ungodly pace, and then he pulled out. I was sure my sixty second lover was ready to release.
Looking back, release would be a good word for what happened next. A stream of warm liquid cascaded across my ass, making me jump out of his reach. The liquid continued to puddle on my kitchen floor in a yellow mess.
“What the fuck was that?” I screamed.
Clearly it wasn’t semen.
I looked down at the puddle on my kitchen floor. “Did you just pee on me? I screamed again, lunging across the room and increasing the distance between us.
“Yeah, baby. I thought you were on board?” he looked at me with genuine question in his face.
“You thought I was on board for you to piss on me like I was a fire hydrant? Do I look like a Dalmatian to you?” I picked his clothes up off of the kitchen floor, tossing them in his direction and watched them land in the puddle on the floor.
I laughed to myself knowing he would have to get in his brand new fancy car smelling like a local bum covered in his piss.
“Get the fuck out of my house. Now!” I opened my front door naked as the day I was born only to find Sam standing outside my front door with a look of shock on his face.
He tried to look away from the train wreck taking place, but ended up just staring at my tits. Reaching up, I covered myself before grabbing the quilt from the back of my couch.
“I said get out!” I yelled again at Thomas, never taking my eyes off of the sexy bartender witnessing my latest in dating disasters.
Thomas walked by holding his clothes over his now limp dick and hauled ass for his car, not once looking back.
“What are you doing here, Sam?” I asked, trying to cover all the important parts with my quilt.
“I rented the apartment three doors down,” he answered.
Great. Just great. Now I had to masturbate three doors down for the sexy beast I could never have. He was already the one I thought about when I touched myself. His being that close would only make things worse.
“You okay?” Sam asked, keeping his eyes on my face since I was standing half naked for the world to see.
“Oh, I’m just peachy,” I said, slamming the door.
The embarrassment just kept coming when it came to Sam. Then again, I guess I should have been happy he was the one to see me that way and not some other random stranger.
The fact that Sam was married made it easier to be a total ass around him. No matter how many times I’d thought about being with Sam and no matter how my body responded to him, us being together was never a possibility. That made things easier, and that reason alone would be the reason I was able to look him in the face the next time I went to Dudley’s. But only after a shower. A long fucking shower.
After Thomas I swore off dating. Speed dating, causal dating, any kind of dating that didn't involve my girls by my side. I was over men in the worst way possible. I was serious this time.
Focusing on work would be my priority for the time being. Maybe making a little extra money would help. Maybe then I could take a nice vacation and forget about the shit storm my life had become since Bryan left.
My phone vibrated against my coffee table, and even though I wanted to ignore it, my curiosity got the best of me.
Sadie: You busy?
Me: No. Not really. Why? What did you get yourself into this time?
Sadie: Can you come over?
Me: Nope. Too tired.
Sadie: Quit being a bitch. I need you to come over. NOW.
Me: Fine. I'll be th
ere in ten.
Sadie: Thanks, Cunt.
I didn't want to go anywhere, but it was the first time in ages that Sadie had begged for anything. Begging wasn’t something she did… ever, which meant it had to be pretty serious. I found myself getting nervous on the ride over to her place.
I gave up knocking on her door when she didn’t answer and took it upon myself to open the door. She was lying on the couch with a black eyes and an ice pack pressed against the back of her head.
“Oh my God. What happened to you?” I asked, hurrying across the room to inspect her injuries.
I wasn’t a nurse, but I knew when something looked bad.
“So... what had happened was...” she trailed off, trying not to laugh.
I pinched my lips together and held in the giggle that worked its way up my throat. For years we insisted that every epic story would always begin with those four words. I knew I was in for a doozy.
“I met this guy at a bar. He was tall and all athletic looking and shit. Just looking at him I knew he would be good in bed. You know the type, right?” Sadie said, a devilish grin spreading across her cracked lip.
I should have known her story would be about picking up a guy in a bar. Without sounding like I was totally bashing my bestie, Sadie was a hoe. And I mean that with all the love a girl could have. It was always a man when it came to her. Always.
“After a few drinks I brought him back here to the apartment and shit got a little out of hand.”
“A little out of hand?” I questioned her.
Frankly I wasn’t surprised or worried at that point. She wasn't attacked and the idea of her being assaulted was gone when she jokingly started with our famous four words.
“Jules, I never in my life thought I would meet someone that would teach me a thing or two about kinky fucking. But this guy... everything was good. No, he was excellent. He was giving it to me just right. It was like he was in my head and in my pussy at the same time. I wanted it, he gave it to me, and I came over and over again. Things were perfect, but the next thing I knew the fucker donkey punched me and I was down for the count,” she said, gripping the back of her head. “I woke up this morning with a pounding headache and a knot the size of my fist on the back of my head.”
I’d heard of some crazy stuff. I mean come on… Pocket. Douche. Monkey. Enough said. But the words donkey punch made absolutely no sense to me.
“First things first. What’s a donkey punch?” I asked her with slight terror.
I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Do you live under a rock? You don't know what a donkey punch is?” Sadie asked with genuine shock.
Seriously? She thought I was the weird one in this scenario?
“Um... no. Is it some kind of kinky kicking?” I asked.
“Kicking? Are you for real? You poor sheltered child, let me give you a little sex education for the day. A donkey punch, well... he was fucking me in the ass and right as he was about to come he punched me in the back of the head and I passed out. I woke up with a load of come on my back and a headache from hell.”
I let out a gasp as she spelled out exactly what a donkey punch was.
“You’re joking right?”
“I shit you not. And when I woke up, Donkey Punch was gone—nowhere to be found, not even as much as a phone number on a napkin. I thought I gave him a wild night, with the possibility of a repeat performance.” She sighed sadly.
She was actually disappointed. Was this bitch for real?
“Sadie. You’re on your own. I can't even deal with you right now,” I said, moving toward the door.
I moved quickly in hopes that I could outrun the mess my life was becoming. Flying seahorses, pocket douche monkey, and donkey punches… OH MY!
The following day at work, I sat on the phone with Sadie in between appointments. She was feeling better and was still sad that her favorite sex partner hadn’t called to even check on her.
“I’d be more concerned about the fact that he left you for dead,” I said, taking a bite out of my apple slice.
“Dead? Oh come on, Jules. It’s sex. He wasn’t trying to kill me.”
“I still can’t believe you’re okay with all that crazy. You go way out of your way to please a man if you ask me. I draw the line at being pissed on and you’re over there being knock out.”
“Oh please. That’s nothing. I once had a guy tell me I felt loose. I spent the following week doing kegel exercises so much I gave myself an orgasm and pulled a groin muscle. I mean seriously, Jules, who the hell knew women had groins?”
I laughed so hard apple flew from my mouth and landed on top of my desk. “Still not as bad as being punched in the head.”
“Yeah, well things are different for me now. I say fuck the bastard who called me loose. He can suck my slack slit as far as I’m concerned, but donkey punch is a keeper. You don’t know what you’re missing, girl.”
“And on that note, I think it’s time to change the subject. Want to meet at Dudley’s for an after work drink?” I asked, hoping there would be no more talk of abusive sex and loose lady bits.
“I can’t. I promised Shelly I’d stop by after work. Rain check?”
“Rain check,” I replied.
The day moved so slowly I could see every second move on the clock. I had two appointments cancel and ended up spending the rest of my time at work organizing and filing.
Afterward, I drove to Dudley’s alone. It was better than going home to my empty apartment, and if I was being honest with myself, I wanted to see Sam. Sadness and a tiny bit of longing slipped into my core when I got there only to find he was off for the night. It was weird. I couldn’t remember a time when Sam had taken a night off.
As I sat at the bar pathetic and alone, I focused on my drink and ignored everyone and everything around me.
“Come here often?” A deep voice beside me asked.
I wanted to slap the guy for using such a shitty pick-up line.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” I replied, looking up from my drink to find a gorgeous man who looked almost identical to Sam.
“I don’t,” he chuckled. I’m assuming it was the small drip of drool hanging from my lips. “I’m just passing through. I’m Daniel, Sam’s my older brother by a whole six minutes.”
He held out his hand in greeting, but I couldn’t stop staring at him long enough and something told me if I let him touch me in any way, I’d beg him to touch me all over.
Holy hot twinsies. How did I not know Sam had a twin brother? He was pure sex on stick, and I wanted a taste. I tried not to be too pissed at Sam for not telling me there was another him in the world. All the time I’d spent lusting after him, and he was unattainable, but his brother seemed pretty single.
“Let me guess… Daniel and Samuel?”
“Yes, ma’am. That would be correct.”
Oh dear God. He had a sexy twang like Sam. Thank you, Jesus, for answering my prayers.
“Nice to meet you, Daniel. I’m Julia, but you can call me Jules.”
He didn’t wait for me, and instead reached out and took my hand. God help me for being cliché, but I felt a spark. It worked its way up my arm and hardened my nipples. Thank God for padded bras. Otherwise, the entire bar would know Daniel was getting me hot.
“Jules. I like that. Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said with a grin.
And I’m not talking just any old grin. I mean a panty soaking, call for Jesus kind of grin. Thinking about it, his grin was just like Sam’s. Except I didn’t feel like a total douche for lusting after Daniel since upon inspection he didn’t have a wedding band like his brother.
“I have to ask. What’s a girl like you doing with a crowd like this?” he asked, pointing to the speed dating pool, who were still in the process of switching tables.
He chuckled softly to himself and I wondered the same thing. The speed daters aren’t the ideal people I’d like to spend my evenings with. It made me wonder wha
t the hell my life was starting to become. I was beginning to look desperate.
“Do you want the short version or the long version of the story?” I asked.
I giggled a little and think all the way back to Bryan and Big Foot in my bedroom prompting me to remember that I still hadn’t purchased a new mattress. Add that on my list of shit to do. Immediately.
“How about the long version? I have time,” he said, looking at his watch and signaling to the bartender for two more drinks.
Two more drinks turned into six, and my life story for the past seven years including my bi-sexual boyfriend, and the series of unfortunate dates there afterward spilled from my lips. We both laughed at the amount of misfortune I’d had, and for the first time since I met Bryan I felt comfortable around another guy who wasn’t Sam.
Daniel may be sex on a stick, but he wasn’t one of those dating site douchebags that just wanted plunge or two in my lady lake.
“So what’s your story, Daniel?” I asked.
The question had been burning the tip of my tongue for the past two hours. The smile disappeared from his face, and his mood dipped. The fun guy I’d just been bullshitting with turned serious and I felt bad for ruining his mood and possibly the rest of the night.
“I’ve got some baggage. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it. You’re a good girl, you don’t need to hear all the bad shit about me.” He tried to smile, but his expression came off more as pained.
Instinct kicked in and I found my hand reaching out for his. I rubbed my thumb along his palm.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, I respect that, but I’ve bothered you with my bullshit and I’m here if you want to get anything off your chest. It can be good to talk sometimes, and it’s even easier with a stranger.”
I left the ball in his court, which from what Sadie always said was a terrible thing to do with a man. But then again, she didn't want the details of their life stories anyway.
Let a man have a ball in his court and he’ll bounce that shit all over you.
Of course, when it came to Sadie she was all about protecting herself from the evil man creature. Unless of course he had a nine inch dick and could make her scream, or donkey punch her. Then he was a keeper for the night at least.
Speed Dating (Speed Dating #1) Page 5
