Darker Shades Of Obsession

by JR King

  She asked, “Are we done?”

  “The fuck we are.” I didn’t waste any time removing her lacy red panties. “You’re mine, cara.” How cheesy, you say? Nothing special tucked in those words? For the guys, try saying this while penetrating your girl, and for the girls, find a guy who says this while pressing inside you, then we’ll talk again.

  I bent her over the power desk, entered her to the hilt from behind and picked up the pace, sinking my teeth into the collar of flesh on the side of her neck. Thank fuck the walls were soundproof, because I took her with such abandon I thought our bodies might disintegrate. We both came with a loud scream, sobbing hysterical, unintelligible words as we came down. I kissed her for a long time before we broke apart.

  “Thank me for what I just did, Elena.”

  She did.

  When I phoned her later in the day, she didn’t answer. She texted me instead, told me to use WhatsApp since she was in a meeting. From what I understood, she was seated at the end of the conference table farthest from its occupied middle, and participants were concentrating on the ongoing presentation to their right side. The what the fuck is happening? moment came fast. I, a grown man, got reduced to a teenager within minutes. Message after message followed, each one bringing a wave of excitement with it as I wrote and read.

  Elena—3:06 PM: If I were looking directly at you now, would I see the outline of your gorgeous cock through your trousers?

  Me—3:07 PM: Yes, I think so. You would be able to make out the outline of my stupid dick without any difficulty.

  Elena—3:08 PM: Have you any idea how hot that is? The thought of it restrained by clothing is incredibly exciting.

  Me—3:08 PM: You’d like to touch it through my clothes? Is that your fantasy? Tell me more.

  Elena—3:10 PM: I’d like to tease you. Run a fingertip, or perhaps even a fingernail along your length and make you shudder expectantly. I’d kiss you through your trousers first so you can feel my hot breath, but you know how much hotter it will be inside my mouth. I want to hear you ordering me to suck you, to take your cock into my mouth and make you come.

  Me—3:10 PM: And I thought I was bad. I gather your current meeting is conducive to boredom?

  Elena—3:11 PM: It is. I’m amusing myself by thinking about stripping you naked. What are you thinking about?

  Me—3:13 PM: Your voice. I can still hear the sound of your moans as you climaxed on my desk. I’m thinking of my cock erupting deep inside you as you came. Thinking of my heavy balls slapping against your butt cheeks.

  Elena—3:14 PM: I still smell like you. I feel kind of sexy when I smell like you.

  Me—3:15 PM: I fucking love that. It’s hardly surprising that you feel sexy. You’re a very sexy girl. Hot like hell. I love you. I want to make exquisitely slow vanilla love to you. I want to fuck you for hours, starting this afternoon.

  Elena—3:15 PM: Only hours?

  Me—3:16 PM: Days, then.

  Elena—3:16 PM: Is your cock hard right now?

  Me—3:17 PM: It might be. Thank you so much for asking this. It’s rather thoughtful of you, sweetheart. You’re making me really horny now. My dick is on its way to getting totally hard now. Feel like touching it?

  Elena—3:18 PM: No, I want to sit opposite you and watch you stroking it.

  Me—3:18 PM: Deal. As long as I can watch you pleasure yourself at the same time.

  Elena—3:19 PM: You can. We’ll sit on opposite sides of your office, and raptly watch each other until we can’t bear it any longer.

  Me—3:20 PM: I can’t bear it already. I’m aching so much.

  Elena seemed to take longer to respond than she had before. I kept staring at the screen. The last message had been sent almost ten minutes ago.

  Elena—3:27 PM: Sorry. Had to answer Frederic about a P&L report. I love you so much. I might actually love the little thingy between your legs more.

  Me—3:27 PM: You think? How little is little?

  Elena—3:28 PM: Am horny.

  Me—3:29 PM: You’re not alone in feeling that way. I’m very hard. Want to slide into your pussy. Pound it good.

  Elena—3:30 PM: I wish I could touch myself. I won’t mention how damp my thighs are. And how my underwear is cleaved to my sex.

  Me—3:31 PM: Don’t worry. Please allow me to return the courtesy by not mentioning how pre-come has soaked through my boxers and how I’m cursing with the need to be inside you, and by not describing how painfully my cock is straining the front of my trousers in its voracious eagerness to be freed. BTW, I would love to see how wet you are, and then make you wetter.

  Elena—3:32 PM: You’re getting too wicked. No. More.

  Me—3:33 PM: Why? I didn’t think I was being that bad. I’m behaving here. Haven’t pulled my cock out.

  Elena—3:34 PM: Because panties! I’m soaking already. Stop seducing me with your filthy ways. Be a gentleman.

  Me—3:36 PM: I’m so not in the mood to act like a gentleman. I remember your panties. The color. Red. Lacy. Racy. Feminine. Have I accidentally on purpose dampened them with desire at so vast a distance, love? How wet are they? PS: there’s a lot of pre-come on the tip. I’m rubbing myself from time to time. A little stroke and a gentle squeeze. I make no promises. Might take it out. You should be here to see it.

  Elena—3:36 PM: I wish I were. Hmm, thinking about you touching yourself is making me want to touch myself. I’m very wet, actually.

  Me—3:37 PM: Are you ready to take a hard, thick cock right this moment?

  Elena—3:37 PM: So much so that I want to play with myself now.

  Me—3:38 PM: Why don’t you, then? Go to your office and lock the door. I like that office. Very cozy. You’ll miss it when you leave Cross Investments.

  Elena—3:38 PM: I want to go to my office. It’s no good. I can’t. I’m such a slut.

  Me—3:39 PM: One of the many reasons why I love you so much.

  Once again, I was very impatient as I glanced at my phone and waited for a response. Man, WhatsAppgate started, I couldn’t concentrate on the PPT before me. Fuck, my board of directors would vote me down faster than a blink of the eye. My heart was pounding, my palms damp with perspiration. I hissed through my teeth and pinched my eyes shut, trying to will away the excruciating pain in my groin.

  Elena’s pause was explained as soon as my phone vibrated. Instead of a message, she’d copied and pasted a simple browser link. I ticked, and a flimsy Agent Provocateur brief popped up in Safari.

  Elena—3:46 PM: See the underside? Pour two fingers of hot glue over it.

  Her last message reminded me that our phones had cameras. Had Skype. Had so many fucking possibilities that I felt lost. And I was horny as hell.

  Me—3:48 PM: I need proof. Excuse yourself for a minute. Go to the bathroom. Remove your panties, and take a picture of them.

  Running my finger along the screen, it broke my heart to imagine a nobody—not lettered properly—in a datacenter could be following our conversation. Elena must have felt pressured when she read my last words. Before I could correct my error, she sent me for-your-eyes-only proof. Damp from being pressed against her delectable sex, fragrant from her arousal, I wanted to smell her goddamn panties. Well, if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right.

  Me—3:55 PM: Good girl. Thank you for leaving me with this highly addictive, beguiling image. I’ll bear your generosity in mind. I have to admit, lingerie that has been wetted by a sweet pussy always quickens my pulse.

  Elena—3:56 PM: Pervert. You are so, so bad. I love it. Seated at your big boss desk, are you tempted to stroke yourself? Will you yield to the temptation, ace?

  Me—3:57 PM: I’m touching myself in my office during a mandatory work hour, so yes, you’re right. I’m very bad. You like me this way. And you’re so wonderfully wicked and wanton. No man can resist a sweet little sex kitten. I so want to fuck you. Want to sink my cock all the way inside you.

  Elena—3:58 PM: Indulge yourself, then. Caress yourself, for me,
and thrill to the sensation of it. What I would give to be close enough to inhale your male scent. To stroke your length. Unzipping you, I’d sink to my knees, taking my time, enjoying myself. Only then I’d reach for the zip and draw it down with a slow crackle.

  Me—3:59 PM: Why exactly do you want to be on your knees when you unzip me? Explain this, my pet.

  Elena—4:00 PM: That’s inevitable. So that my mouth is close enough to taste you, to serve that hot body of yours. The thought is quite electrifying. To be on my knees before you in that office, inhaling your arousal, paying homage to your beautiful cock by licking it. The imagery is very much alive in my head right now. I can’t concentrate on the deck in front of me. I want to suck you.

  Me—4:00 PM: You shall, tonight. I promise. I think about you on your knees in front of me more than I should admit. I think about you serving me like a slut way too much. I think of you as my sex slave. I think about being greedy and selfish. I think about coming everywhere on you. Everywhere in you.

  Elena—4:01 PM: God, you should have come on my breasts. That way, your scent, sweet and strong, would have stayed with me all day. I ought to tell you the truth. My nipples have become hard. They’re quite obvious through my clothes. One of my male colleagues briefly stared at them.

  Me—4:02 PM: It’s so thoughtful of you not to withhold damaging information. My hands are itching to scratch his eyes out. And then do you know what I’d like to do? What I’d love to do to you? SPANK YOU.

  Elena—4:03 PM: Will it hurt a lot? Tell me the truth.

  Me—4:04 PM: Maybe a little.

  Elena—4:04 PM: Maybe a lot, you mean, sadist.

  Me—4:05 PM: Not once I’ve spanked you raw until you pass your pain threshold, leaving a hot, stinging feeling all over your bottom. After that it’ll be all sweet, mindless, adrenaline-induced ecstasy. To start, I’ll stretch you out across my lap, your skirt drawn up around your waist and your panties down to the middle of your thighs. At each smack of flesh against flesh, I’ll feel your tingling warmth against the palm of my hand and watch the angry vividness bloom across your taut skin. I might pause, listening to your gasps as your nerve endings sparkle and endorphins charge through you. I’ll allow my hand to linger against your skin, delighting in your blissful numbness.

  Elena—4:06 PM: Oh! He went to the bathroom!

  Me—4:08 PM: Aha, he’s going to rub one out. Who wouldn’t at the idea of your breasts? You know how much I love them. I adore them. I could kiss them chastely all day long, run the tip of my tongue around the areola until your nipples glisten, and lick the tiny beads of perspiration from them. I could draw your nipples into my mouth, one by one, suckling on them greedily and insistently, pushing you over the edge. Or I could lick your panties while you’re still wearing them. Lick you through them and taste you through the soft, slimy fabric. Can you feel my lips against yours, separated by only a millimeter of fabric? Feel my mouth on you, my tongue in you? Sucking you?

  Elena—4:08 PM: That sounds delicious to my ears. I want you to do that. I, in fact, insist you do all these things.

  Me—4:09 PM: Thank you for that. I can feel you push back against my mouth, gasping and moaning and crying out as my mouth explores you. My thumb against the tightness of your anus, I’ll lick your clit and fuck your pussy with my tongue. Are you helplessly wet now? Do you ache to be fucked? Do you need my cock deep inside you?

  Elena—4:09 PM: YES.

  Me—4:10 PM: Fuck, this feels wonderful. I have absolutely no sense of self-control or discipline at work. I’d love to feel you sliding down my cock ever so slowly, until you’re wriggling and writhing in my lap with my dick embedded deep within you, pleasuring yourself on my hard flesh. I want you to grind on me while I hold your hips and press my mouth to your breasts as you ride me. I want to feel your warm, wet, succulent cunt milking me. That would be so fucking delicious.

  Elena—4:10 PM: Enough. Stop. It. You always know just what to say to make me uncomfortably wet and wild.

  Me—4:11 PM: Stop? I won’t do that. I can’t do that. I’m going to have to make myself come. I want to cup your sex in my palm and feel your heat and your wetness while the tip of my tongue flirts with your nipples and my cock thrusts against your warm body. In that spirit, go to your office and call me. I’d like to hear how badly you want to come. That you have to come or else you’ll go mad. On my hand, on my cock, in my mouth. Everywhere. I need to hear you say it. I need you to come with me. To come against your own fingers as I explode in my hand. Only then will we return our attention to our jobs.

  She called. Another hour was spent, or wasted—depending on your perspective, on sex talk. I did take my cock out, then. Imagine that, cam sex. Indeed there’s a first time for everything. I couldn’t wait to try the high-definition version.

  Elena Anderson

  The Other Turner

  In April, things got…nasty. On Easter and the preceding week, the Turners and the Andersons decided to come together. I’d previously met Alexander’s grandparents and, as lovely as they were, I surmised some of his family wouldn’t be so nice.

  I also learned more about the Significant Twenty.

  “You never brought any of them home for Christmas?” I watched him wet a finger with cologne and run it behind his ears.

  “Most of them were paid girls. The few others were mistresses, sexual outlets, nothing else.”

  At hearing that, my body froze. “Prostitutes, you mean. Why pay someone?”

  “Because I can. I like paying because it also makes things less messy. I can dictate my wants, and no emotions are involved.”

  I didn’t like the tense he was using. Sounded like he was he prone to doing it again if I weren’t in the mood. “Emotions and feelings make sex hotter. Sentiments intensify climaxing.”

  “Sentiments also make things fussy and painful.”

  “Did someone hurt you?” I considered Valerie. At my request, he’d stiffly given me her full name. Showed me pictures of her online. Not a schoolmarm, that woman was pretty as a timeless peacock.

  “Not yet, Elena.” An odd emphasis placed on the words, he stared at me gravely, as if opening his heart to me would lead to a premature death.

  I didn’t want such responsibility, so on the spur of the moment I said, “I understand, Alex.” Total Charlie Sheen imitation. I didn’t want to carry the weight and pressure of expectation. I couldn’t because I knew I’d disappoint him, ultimately becoming a nuisance.

  “Wait here.”

  In the mirror, I admired my Versace dress. Celebrating the female form rather than eliminating it, the straps crisscrossed in the back and tied in a bow very low at the back. When Alexander returned a minute later, he placed a De Beers ring box on the dressing table.

  “Not fair,” I muttered under my breath. It wasn’t nausea that I felt. It was fear, icy cold at first, then becoming white-hot. A dog-eared book would have been nice, this type of commitment scared the shit out of me.

  He pressed himself against my back, hands alighting on my shoulders. We looked at each other’s reflection in the mirror, an aura of calm hovering about. My hands shook in my lap, so I clasped my fingers together and tried to stop my body from shaking. “Open it, Elena.”

  “Why, Alex? An engagement ring is too fast—,”

  “It’s not that kind of ring. There are many types, you know.” The feel of his fingertips on my collarbone soothed some of the anxiety vibrating within me. I didn’t open it—didn’t even look at the box. I held my gaze on his reflection until he looked back at mine in exasperation. “Open it,” he repeated, need in his voice.

  My heart began to race. I drew the box before me and thumbed the lid open. Nestled inside the while silk and velvet was a beast of an Asscher-cut diamond ring. The split shank masterpiece looked like it weighed more than ten carats. Tiny pure white diamonds were pavéd in a halo setting and in the band, which, I recognized, was made of platinum. I guessed the diamonds were D-F color, and their clarity was IF at
least. “Looks beautiful. Not exactly a dinner ring.”

  “Traditional cocktail ring. Wear it, for me.” It wasn’t a request.

  I slid the cool band onto the ring finger of my right hand.

  “Do you like it?”

  I love it, you evil moron. “It looks nice, Alex. Like a cluster of stars.”

  He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed its back. “Thank you, angel.”

  In return, I decided to show him my indivisible gratitude throughout the ninety-minute drive.

  “I want to suck you. Give it to me.”

  His rapidly growing cock sprang out spontaneously when he slid down his boxers, pawing the air. The obscenity. There he sat, in the back of a limo, a sculpted statue in utter masculinity, raging erection fisted in his hands. His familiarity was evident, his moves elegant. While watching a cock sticking out obscenely from an open fly, I was struck by the impropriety. It was lewd, indecent, and altogether improper in a car. Yet I wasted no time shoving my hand into his pants to cup his heavy balls.

  His hands grabbed my hair, and he dropped his head back. “Now that’s a good girl.” His cock slid against my tongue and rammed into my throat. He was more forceful than usual with me, fucking my mouth with deep, punishing thrusts. This felt incredibly important to him. Pulling out, he murmured, “Baby, do you want this? What would you do for it?” He pressed against my lips with his fingers.

  “Anything, Alex.”

  “Swear it.”

  “I swear.”

  He rammed himself back into my throat and went back to getting off. The limo screamed down highways at well over sixty-five miles per hour. I sucked his cock like I meant it; drawing back with inflated slowness, my lips encircling his shaft, sucking on his length as though he were a popsicle, and he placed two fingers on the skin in the middle of my throat to feel how I swallowed. I felt like a semi-pro pornstar when he fucked me doggy-style. He tired of the position after a while and heaved me onto the seat.