Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  “Oh, how do I get on the invite list?” I smiled as if I understood what she was getting at but still wanted to play along.

  “I might be able to give you some info about it. Come back and see me tomorrow. We’ve gotta open the doors now.”

  “Great, thank you.” I blew her a kiss on my way out. Won’t hurt, right?

  I wasn’t above a little man whore action to get to the bottom of this employee uprising thing—and to get my 25 Gs, of course.

  Jolie

  “He’s going to have to go back to the doctor,” my mom sighed as she met me at the door. I hadn’t even taken off my crown yet, that’s how fast I rushed home.

  “He’s still running a fever?” I checked. When she nodded, I brushed past her to get to River, who was sprawled out on the sofa watching his favorite cartoon. I pressed my lips to his forehead and immediately felt the heat soak into me.

  “Can you take tomorrow off?” Mom asked in the vocal equivalent of a tiptoe.

  I whipped around. “No, I’m already in enough trouble. Fucking Sweet Enterprises.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I closed my eyes as I bit my lip in frustration. “Sorry, guys. Don’t use that word, please.”

  “Why the fuck not?” my son Reed quipped. Of course. At ten he was always pushing my buttons. And Lord knew he didn’t get enough attention with his brother’s issues always shoving him aside.

  “Look,” I shot him a warning glare, “I’m doing the best I can. I have an appointment tonight, and I can’t cancel it, so I have to go get changed.”

  “But you were gone last night,” my mother reminded me.

  I huffed, trying to blow out my growing exasperation. Maybe if I stripped out of this corset, I would be able to breathe again. But I was only going to be exchanging this corset for another. My clients wouldn’t know what to think if I didn’t show up in my black latex corset and boots, my expected Domme attire. At least I’d be able to get this godforsaken wig off.

  I marched off to my room to execute my costume change. My mother always had to help me with the corset I used for my sessions with my subs. She would be in shortly. I might have had two or three seconds to take a deep, unrestricted breath before being laced up again.

  “Jolie,” Mom started up again as she closed my bedroom door behind her, “you’re going to have to find a job with better benefits and leave. River needs his mom around. So does Reed, for that matter.”

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it in hers. I knew she was trying not to cry, but I could see the tears glistening there anyway, threatening to fall. At least the boys couldn’t see or hear us. If there was one thing I tried my damnedest to do, it was to keep them from knowing how tough things really were for our little family.

  “You think I don’t know that?” I argued with her. “But I haven’t been able to find anything else that pays as well and offers any benefits at all. Or something that might actually help my acting career. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

  She shifted her gaze to the floor and sucked in a steadying breath before looking up at me again. My mom had given me my unique gray eyes, but hers were lighter than mine. They seemed to have faded at the same time her hair lightened into a silvery blonde. She was washing out before my very eyes, and I felt like she was trading her youth for more time with River.

  “River’s not going to be here forever,” she said as a tear streaked down her cheek. Her tears were reserved for me in private. And mine were reserved for her. In private. We couldn’t let those two young men in the other room know of our despair. Of our constant pleadings with God for more time, more strength, more money.

  “Mom…” I couldn’t bear for her to start up the waterworks right now. Not when I had to change clothes and leave for my other job. “I’m doing the best I can. We have some things in the works at Sweetopia. We’re having a big meeting soon, and we’re about to go to the media with our demands. I think things are on the cusp of changing. Everything’s coming together…”

  “You said that three months ago,” my mother fired back. Her lips pursed as her eyes bounced back and forth between mine. “And last year when you were still at Barney’s.”

  “What is it you want me to do, Mom?” I begged of her. “Please, tell me. Because I can’t help that I’m a single mom who gets zero support from the two loser sperm donors I fucked. And I can’t help that my kid has cystic fibrosis. There’s literally not a damn thing I can do about any of that.”

  “Jolie…” My mom took my hand into hers again. “I know you’re doing the best you can. You’re so beautiful and talented…I just feel like you should be able to find an employer who really respects you and will compensate you accordingly—and not make you feel guilty when you need to take off a few days to care for your sick kid.”

  “Yeah, it takes a lot of talent to sit on a throne and pose for pictures all day.” I rolled my eyes. “Please.”

  “You’re selling yourself short. You’re playing a role you were born to play. You make an amazing queen, Jolie. No one would guess in a million years you’re this single mom scrounging up her last few dimes to fill up the gas tank and supporting a household of four on two jobs. When you put on that crown, you become The Red Velvet Queen. Through and through. The Sweets would never be able to replace you. They’d never be able to find someone who embodies the role like you do.”

  “Thanks, Mom…but I don’t need a pep talk. I need to get changed for my other job.”

  But my words didn’t deter my mother, who was at least three times more headstrong than I was. “And even though it still weirds me out, I bet you are amazing in that—other role—you perform too.”

  I rolled my eyes. She couldn’t say the word “dominatrix.”

  “You need a real acting job,” she insisted. “A TV show, a movie. Hell, even commercials to start with. You’re not getting any younger, Jolie. You need to look for an agent again and put yourself out there.”

  “And how do you propose I do that when I’m already working sixty hours a week? Besides, if I play my cards right, I can take this Red Velvet gig right onto the big screen. You know they’re talking about a live action movie… What else can I do but wait it out?”

  My mother shook her head. She didn’t have an answer for that one. Sure, I’d always dreamed of being an actress, but I’d never made it any further than the stage at my high school and one or two community productions. None of those roles paid, anyway. What I did now were the only two roles I could take on that actually did pay a salary. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

  And on that note, I needed to get going before my sub left me for a mistress he could rely on to show up on time.

  That night as I lay in bed, I was overcome with sadness. There was just no way in hell I could make everyone happy: my bosses, my sons, my mother. Someone always got the short end of the stick. The stick being me, of course. I was always the biggest loser.

  I had no friends outside of coworkers. I had nothing for myself. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had fun.

  And then, I did remember. The memory slammed into me so hard that I nearly fell off the bed. It was Marcus the week before in my dressing room. He’d appeared out of nowhere, and all he wanted to do was see me writhing in ecstasy. And he was so damn talented.

  Seeing him today at the bakery, how he looked so confused and concerned when he walked in on me discussing my situation with Colleen, it was so sweet. He seemed like such a giving, sensitive guy. I needed a guy like that in my life. Even if it was just to have fun with. He was obviously younger than me, but he was definitely into me. There was no denying that. What if I asked him on a proper date? What if I let him see the real me? The me minus the crown and plus a hell of a lot of baggage?

  Would he still want me then?

  5

  Jolie

  I needed something to get me through the day, and coffee was just not going to cut it. My mother was taking River back to the doctor, and I couldn’t go
because Sweet Enterprises was headed by the devil himself: Corden Sweet. Oh, and his evil fucking wife, though I couldn’t remember her name. I heard their three sons also worked in the park, so apparently nepotism was A-OK, but allowing the mother of a sick child to care for said child was not.

  Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

  I did briefly consider dumping some Bailey’s into my coffee, but it wasn’t like I had any. I didn’t have any alcohol in the house and no time to stop for some. I didn’t even think I could find a liquor store open this early. Not to mention the problem of showing up in full costume to buy some damn booze—it didn’t seem like a good idea. So I went to work, and I knew damn well what I needed to do.

  It’s like he knew. He was waiting for me in the hallway right outside my dressing room. Marcus Young, propped all tall and lean against the concrete block wall that was painted cotton candy pink like half the other surfaces in Sweetopia. It was a color that made my stomach churn at this point.

  “Well, good morning, beautiful.” His lips curled up as he drank in the sight of me. “Where’d you run off to last night? I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Did you?” I tried to keep my own mouth from mirroring his smile, but it was a pointless endeavor. He made me smile against my will, especially the way he enunciated “beautiful” in his sexy as fuck accent.

  I fumbled with the key in the lock. Men didn’t make me nervous. I told them what to do—I made them nervous. But that didn’t hold true for Marcus. Even though he was younger than me. Even though he was just a summer temp in the bakery, he had a commanding presence, one that seemed completely incongruous with that blasted pink polo he was wearing.

  Well, there was one way to solve that problem. I’d rip it off him the first chance I got. I couldn’t deny I’d already been thinking about doing that for days.

  “Need help?” I could feel his eyes on me, boring into me as I finally got the key to engage and managed to swing the door open.

  “Not with the key,” I fired back as I whirled around to meet his gaze. His eyes were doing that smoldering thing again. You’d never imagine it was only eight in the morning. He looked ready and raring to go. Giddy up!

  “Have you been thinking about our little encounter the other day?” He reached up to brush some of my hair back away from my face. His accent was so thick and raspy, it was proper and gravelly all at the same time. How did he do that? It was fucking magic.

  “As a matter of fact, I have been thinking about returning the favor,” I admitted, locking my eyes with his.

  “Do you often get fucked in your dressing room?” I could practically see the wicked thoughts swirling in his head as the question left his lips.

  “No. I’ve never been fucked in my dressing room. Not unless the lunch you had last week counts…”

  He pulled me into his arms, capturing me before whipping me around and pushing me up against the wall in one fluid motion. “There’s a first time for everything…” His lips lingered by my collarbone as he spoke, each word punctuated with a little hot breath that made my skin even more inflamed.

  I felt the heat spread from my cheeks, down to my breasts, and then it surged to my core. Marcus was pressing against me so insistently that I should have been able to feel his erection—but alas, it was impossible with this full skirt on. It was a package I couldn’t wait to unwrap. I felt like it was my birthday.

  But I didn’t want him to see me naked. Not yet.

  The corset covered a multitude of issues: stretch marks, sagging skin, a c-section scar. I was a mother. What most of society saw as “flaws” were an accepted part of my body—and I wasn’t ashamed of them—

  Well, I wasn’t exactly ashamed of them. Mostly not ashamed…

  A man like Marcus Young, someone just out of college, was surely used to women his own age. Svelte, lithe, nubile women. Twenty-somethings like him, with unblemished skin and firm, smooth breasts and hips.

  I wanted to stay The Red Velvet Queen. I wanted to be his royal fantasy. I wished he’d hike up my skirts and have his way with me like he did last week.

  But that pink polo shirt of his was coming off. That is non-negotiable.

  I tugged at the hem, and he shrugged out of it like his limbs were made of rubber. Raking my eyes up and down his gorgeous torso left me breathless. He had two firm mounds of pecs topped with pert nipples and a rippled washboard of muscles below. His arms weren’t gigantic—he didn’t look like he was on steroids or anything—but his muscles were well-defined, strong. And possibly the most delicious thing of all was the trail of dark hair that led from his mouthwatering V into the khaki uniform pants that hung low on his hips.

  “See anything you like?” He gave me a cocky smirk though he knew damn well I was already eye-fucking him.

  “I think you have some more work to do.” I pointed at his belt as I bit my lower lip.

  “What about you?” His eyebrow quirked. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…” His growl tapered off as he nipped at my neck again, making another burst of desire shoot through me.

  “I can’t take this off. I’ll never get it back on in time to start work. It’s a process,” I explained. “Do you have a condom?”

  His lips curled up as he nodded. “So, that’s it, you’re ready for me? No foreplay?”

  “Undo your belt. Put the condom on. Insert Tab A into Slot B,” I commanded him. I gritted my teeth as he reached up to pinch my nipple between his fingers. “Oww!”

  I wasn’t used to pain. Well, I wasn’t used to experiencing pain, only inflicting it. The sharp sting seared through me but only electrified the need building in my core that much more.

  “Don’t get mouthy with me,” he said as he unbuckled his belt. “And you might want to reconsider taking this without any foreplay—”

  He dropped his pants, and I tried as hard as I could not to gawk at the massive tool he pulled out of his boxer briefs. He had to be at least eight or nine inches long, but that wasn’t even the most noteworthy thing about his cock. It looked almost as big around as my arm, and it was striped with thick, throbbing veins.

  I gulped down the shock I was desperately trying to conceal. It now made perfect sense, how this mere summer temp could have such a massive ego. It was an ego fed by a ginormous dick. He was definitely packing more than enough heat to back up his arrogance.

  “Reconsidering?” He smirked at me as he reached down to stroke his erection slowly from base to tip. He squeezed at the end and revealed a glistening pearl of pre-cum.

  “Just fuck me,” I reiterated, knowing I was wet enough. I could feel it. The air duct over my head was blowing cool air right onto my pussy, and the sensation combined with the heat emanating from inside me was dizzying. Maddening. I needed him inside me pronto allegro.

  I watched him roll the condom down his cock before he pressed the tip to my aching lips. He gyrated his hips, smoothly working that gigantic tool inside me, and the look on his face alone nearly made me come. His jaw was set in a firm, determined clench, and his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as he sank into me inch by inch. It looked like an agonizing mix of heaven and hell until I relaxed enough to take him in his entirety.

  Then, as though the restraint was killing him, he reached for my chin, directing my eyes to his. “You okay?”

  “Move!” I screamed, unable to handle any further delay. “Fuck me, Marcus.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” he fired back as he began to rail into me, hitting my cervix so hard I nearly fainted from the sudden stabbing pain. It was only a moment before it began to feel good, just like how he’d tweaked my nipples before.

  Here I thought I only enjoyed inflicting pain, but it seemed like I enjoyed receiving it too. How had I never discovered that before?

  “Goddamn, you’re so fucking wet,” he growled into my ear as he continued his assault on my pussy. I wrapped my arms around him, digging my scarlet fingernails into the firm flesh of his ass to drive him faster, deeper.

&
nbsp; I hadn’t been fucked for a long time, and I’d forgotten how fucking glorious it was. How it demolished all other thoughts, all other pain. It was transcendental. I was floating on another plane of existence, spouting off some real philosophical shit, but my body was doing its thing, and I could tell it was about to explode.

  Every fiber of my being was singing like a diva giving a sold-out concert at Carnegie Hall. This is what I had been missing in my life. This was what my body was built to do.

  “Come on my cock,” Marcus commanded as he gripped my hair and pulled my head back so he had access to my throat. He painted my skin with kisses before he claimed my lips, ravishing me in a fit of passion so intense that my pussy exploded around him, squeezing his cock so hard that he groaned something about not being able to hold back any longer.

  As the purple starburst behind my eyes brightened to reveal the soft lights of my dressing room, I caught sight of his body as it jerked out the last few spurts of his release. His face wore an expression of pure bliss, his head thrown back and sweat glistening on his brow.

  “Fuck, Jolie,” he said as he slowly regained consciousness. “I was not expecting that this morning…”

  My eyebrows arched. “Oh yeah? What were you expecting?”

  He chuckled as he pulled his cock out of my body and stripped off the condom. “I think I expected you to at least put up a fight.”

  His comment made me a little miffed. I was no shrinking violet, and I refused to play coy. If that was what he wanted, he needed to go back to the co-eds he left behind in college.

  “No…no, no, no,” he insisted, pinning his dark gaze on me. “I didn’t mean that as anything but a compliment. I love that you know what you want and go after it.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “Oh, yeah, it’s hot as hell. I’d always heard ol—”

  I just knew he wasn’t about to call me “older” after blowing a load in my pussy. I shot a warning glare at him.