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Sweet Surrender

By: Lady_Blackhawk



Several weeks had passed since Callia had returned home to the Moonwood. Much to everyone's surprise, she had taken up residence with Amakiir instead of her mother. It still seemed to be the topic of conversation and endless gossip, but the pair ignored all the talk. Their people could scarce believe they had become an item and often wondered if it was a spell that made Callia so enamored with Amakiir. Even her mother had questioned her, disbelieving Callia's obsession with her once constant tormentor. Yet Callia bore the questions from others with patience and dignities, doing her best to make them all understand his magic had nothing to do with their relationship. Through it all one person had remained seemingly silent, keeping his comments and opinions to myself. Yet Callia could sometimes feel Karowyn's steely gaze upon her and could feel his disapproval. Callia could deal with that. Often she had garnered Karowyn's disapproval. That was nothing new.

Rarely were Callia and Amakiir parted for long, and could often be found locked in a passionate embrace. No matter where they were or what they were doing it always turned into a steamy interlude of some kind. They often had to excuse themselves from a clan gathering to indulge in their carnal bliss.

Such was the case one afternoon when Callia left the clan hold by herself and headed for her favorite bathing pool.

She was looking forward to relaxing in the cool water. She needed some quiet time alone from the ever watchful eyes of her people. She knew they often talked about her. She had heard their whispers and had seen their sly glances as she walked by. The camp slut and the often cruel mage...what a pair the two made. Many couldn't believe what had drawn them together. Yet others were aware of their lust for one another. It took mere moments after they had emerged together from his lodge for the ones who had heard her lusty cries to spread throughout the camp. Several had blatantly said she hadn't changed. Perhaps they were right in that extent. Sex was still a ruling factor in her life. Only now she was indulging her passions with only one partner. Amakiir had seen to that. He had made it clear to her that she was his property.

As Callia divested herself of her soft furs and sank into the inviting water, she turned her thoughts back to Amakiir. Being claimed as his property didn't sit well with her. Yet she remained silent, allowing him to believe she solely belonged to him. The sex they had shared was incredibly intense and Callia found herself hopelessly addicted to it. She never would have believed he would be able to satisfy her so completely. Callia reveled in the constant feeling of contentment. 

Lost in thought while she soaked in the shallow part of the bathing pool, Callia hadn't noticed Amakiir strolling towards her. Right away, he could tell her she distracted. Her mood seemed pensive. He watched for several minutes as she stared off into the distance. If he only knew what she was thinking, perhaps he could help her through it. 

Amakiir knew part of her resented their affair, but he also knew he could not give her up. He knew he had to make the best of it and hoped she would come around completely. He hoped she would come to feel the same way he did about her. If that failed, he was not above using magic to keep her under his control. Amakiir knew she had no willpower to overcome him. She would be his.

Quickly he stripped off his tunic and leathers and slid into the cool water. Callia jumped as she felt the waters splash around her.

"I didn't mean to startle you, my pretty. You looked too tempting to resist," he said as he embraced her and dropped a kiss upon her shoulder. A shiver of delight coursed through her body. Amakiir took note of that and ever so lightly ran his fingers up the flesh of her arm, raising goose flesh and causing her to shake and tremble.

A moan slipped out as she dropped her head back in sweet surrender. "Ohhh yes..."

Turning her around to face him, he drew her up against his body, her thighs parting as she slid across his lap. A hint of jasmine wafted through the trees on a balmy wind that turned her favorite place into an aromatic haven. Amakiir pressed her breasts tight against his chest as he slid his arms around her back. He then drew her lips down to meet his.

"Kiss me," he whispered, his lips nibbling at the corners of her mouth. A when her mouth connected with his, she gave herself over to the kiss completely with lips, mouth, tongue, arms, body and soul. Callia wound her arms around his shoulders just as the heady scent of jasmine wrapped itself around the two elves like invisible arms.

He dropped a hand to her ass, caressing softly as he pressed her more fully against his engorged cock. Callia let out a small sound of protest as his mouth began to devour hers. Teasing little nibbles turned into sharp little nips. He kissed her as if he would climb into her body through her mouth. Amakiir nipped and grazed his teeth over her lips until she cried out.

A sound issued forth from Amakiir's throat, a low timbre that began as a purr and ended as a growl of distant thunder. One of his hands moved from her ass, sliding it up to tangle within her hair. Grabbing a handful, he began to pull her up.

Callia whimpered half from the pain of the hair pulling and half from the delight of feeling his cock graze her pussy. He flicked his fingers over her clit before driving his cock home. She squealed as his thickness stretched her pussy walls.

"Ride me," he ground out as he gripped her waist, helping her to get into her groove. He thrust upward as she thrust down, as they began to move in sync with one another. Amakiir's hands moved to her full breasts and slowly squeezed them. Her pink nipples were already erect. Callia looked incredible sitting on his cock and could barely believe this luscious goddess was here with him. Callia looked him directly in the eyes as she put her hands on his chest to ride him. Her bucking increased gradually. He let go of her tits and moved them to her tight little ass. This freed her breasts to bounce as she rode his cock. She then sat upright and rammed her cunt down on his cock to get as much as she could. She let out an animal like groan as her cunt muscles contracted around his thick cock. Yet it was not enough for him. Lifting her from the water, he laid her on the bank flat on her back. He pushed himself inside Callia, using his hands to hold her where he wanted her. Yet she couldn't just lie still beneath him and raised her hips to meet his incredible thrusts. Amakiir shuddered and she felt it deep within her core. She bucked up against him despite his attempts to keep her hips pressed to the ground. Fighting for control, Amakiir tried to shove himself completely inside of her with one long hard thrust, pushing hard and deep with all the force his hips could muster, just to work his meaty girth up inside her. Callia gasped, as he seemed to fill every inch of her. She knew he was thick, but marveled anew at this seemingly increased thickness. Drawing back nearly to the tip, he pushed forth hard and slow. It was all too much for Callia to bear. She let loose a feral scream, and arched her back, bringing her breasts up tight against him. Her orgasm came hot and fast, opening her tight snatch up, giving him the thrusting room he needed. Her juices slicked her pussy and as she felt another orgasm building, riding her hard, just as hard as Amakiir. Her nails raked his back as she urged him on.

Pulling her legs up, her knees bent, he pushed them over his shoulders. His thrusts went deeper still. Amakiir found his rhythm and it was hard and fast. Callia found herself cresting from the pressure between her legs, rolling over her as it spread through her body and she let loose a scream as her orgasm hit her, Amakiir thrust one last time. She knew in that very instant he'd been gentle before this, because his last thrust was so deep it drove her off the ground screaming. Her nails dug into his skin as one final orgasm hit on the heels of her last.

Amakiir groaned and shuddered, collapsing his weight on top of her. A soft grunt escaped her lips as she slid her legs down. She stroked his hair and his back.

"Amakiir..." she murmured.

After a few moments his heavy breathing ceased and he rolled off her body. Staring up at the flickering sunlight that filtered through the boughs of the trees, he let out a sigh. "You never fail to amaze me. Just when I think the sex can't get anymore intense between us, your pussy gets so much better. I confess myself in lust with your pussy. You drive me to want to fuck you all night and all day. You've become an obsession, one I can barely afford."

"Yet you've wanted me for years. Now you know why men have always flocked to me. Of course just because I'm good doesn't mean the sex was always this intense. At least it wasn't for me." Callia sighed as she looked up into his silver eyes. "Our people are still talking about us behind our backs and dear Karowyn won't speak to me at all. He doesn't understand. No one understands us. It's been on my mind more than you know."

"I know, my sweet. I can tell your moods," he said. "And as for Karowyn, he thinks it is a game we are playing with each other."

"Is it? Are you toying with me?"

"I could ask the same of you. I know a part of you resents our affair and I know you don't like being claimed as my property. I know that stems from your free nature. You have always done what you wanted when you wanted and with whomever you wanted. It makes me wonder why you are being so complacent about my dominance over you. You are the aggressive one. You always have been."

Callia glared at him. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I get tired of being the aggressive one all the time? Or maybe I get tired of being the strong one. It does grow old after a time. I would like to lean on someone else once in a while. I would like to be the passive one every once in a while. I enjoy taking orders, being told what to do and how to do it. Sometimes I get off on being called a slut. You are very good at judging my moods. I wanted to lure you out here. I wanted to be taken like this today. You seem to know me so well. Question is how soon will it be before you get tired of me?"

"I'll never grow tired of you."

"Never say never, Amakiir. You taught me that many years ago. You want me now, but I know a time will come when you've grown tired of me. It's just the way of things. It's the story of my life." Callia sighed.

"Those are mistakes you've perpetuated for years. Page after page of your story was written with you flat on your back with someone thrusting between your lovely thighs. You've sold yourself short, my pretty. You've wasted much of your talents and your beauty on men so undeserving of you. Do you really think someone will care about you after you've allowed them to slake their lusts on you? Think, Callia, think. You are beautiful. I know people are talking. I hear it daily just as you do. Our warriors, many of whom you've bedded, ask why I'm fucking you of all of the females in our clan. She's a mattress-backed slut, they say. So that may be true, but you are my slut. I'm going to be the one venting my lust between your lovely thighs, when the mood is right. Other times, it is different. I want to cherish you and give you what you want. It'll be however the mood warrants. I will take care of you, and soon enough, no one will be talking about us anymore."

"Didn't it start with you slaking your lust on me?"

"No, you know it didn't."

"NO? NO! You allowed some dirty Orc ravage me. How can you care about me and still hurt me like that? How?" Callia exclaimed.

"Do you think I continue to still hurt you?"

"Sometimes. I hear the talk. Some say you brag about you using me. Some say you tolerate me because it's a game to you. They say you have never meant a thing you have said about wanting me all this time. Is it all a game? Am I your plaything? Will you dispose of me when you are tired of me? Can't you see? I can't fight you. You are much more powerful than I. My muscles and skills in combat are no match for your magic. I know that." Callia cried, lashing out at him, her blue eyes blazing.

"Talk is cheap. And that's all it is. Perhaps they are now the jealous ones because they are no longer receiving your favors and as for the females...You are much more beautiful than they. Perhaps they are jealous because all the men want you and not them." Amakiir offered.

"Perhaps."

"I'm not toying with you. I'm not playing with you or using you either. That's in the past. Trust me," he stated. "Now where were we?"

Callia let loose a chuckle, "I think we were just about to fuck like animals once more."

And they did, giving into the sweet surrender their passion demanded.

Sweet Surrender



Door #6 was ajar just as she said it would be. Her instruction was to arrive at 3 pm, walk in and find further instructions. 

She is Mistress Nikki, my goddess of love and lust. I met her online, called her for phone sex and then over time I fell deeply in love with her. From the very beginning I felt as though I were the only one in the world who mattered to her. In turn she became my sole focus for pleasure, lust and love. 

In my first month of servitude, I gave Mistress control of my sex life. She took it away and forbade me to have sex with my wife. In the second week of no sex I sent her my picture. It was unsolicited yet I wanted her to see me, to judge me. After two weeks, our stars aligned and we talked on the phone again. She told me to stroke and make myself cum for her in the first five minutes. The orgasm was wonderful and copious. Two weeks is a long interval between orgasms, especially when it's with Mistress Nikki. I came twice in that call. The second of which came no less than an hour of cooperative edge play. 

That call and so many others seemed like only yesterday as I stood in the doorway and peered into room #6. It was dark, the drapes were closed and I reached inside to feel for a light switch. Finding one, I flipped it upward and then walked in.

It was an ordinary motel room with a bed and bed side tables on one side and a counter with tv on it on the other side. On the bed was a box with an envelope on top of it. The envelope had my full name written on it and beneath that she stated you have my permission to open this envelope and read what's inside.

Dear Bob,

Thank you for coming this far to meet your destiny. I intend to use you completely while you are here to visit. We will be starting in short order so you have some tasks to complete before I enter your room. 

1. Leave the door open. There is no key to this room. We are squatting. You need to know that in case we are caught. 

2. Go to the bathroom, strip and then shave your genitals. Slave genitalia are meant to be bald.

3. Take a warm bath. Stay in the tub at least one hour. Wash everywhere, especially that ass hole.

4. Dry yourself off, return to the bed and open the box. Further instructions await.

I followed her instructions to the letter and over an hour later I returned to the bedroom refreshed and relaxed. My cock hung rock hard between my legs. The room's cool air kissed my hairless balls. Inside the box was a letter and several objects. I picked up the letter and read it first.

Slave,

You are a motel whore. Pick up the phone in the box and call me. I'm the first entry in the directory list.

Love, Mistress Nikki

My cock head elongated on its own as the opportunity to hear my Mistress' voice sank in. The cell phone was already on when I opened it up. Finding her number is easy enough. It was the one at the top of the directory. Several other names appeared in the directory and as I scrolled through the list. I stopped at one I recognized. It was my wife's cell phone number. 

I started to stroke my cock as I recalled the time I gave it to Mistress. It was during a prolonged edge play phone session. I was on cam, naked and stroking while she whispered in my ear that it was time to give up something meaningful if I wanted to cum. Her tone spoke to me as well as what she said. "I want your wife's phone #. I want to call and hear her voice," she said. "Is that all?" I asked. "No, I want to call her and tell her about us while my cock is buried in your ass." I believed what she said and nearly came over it. Her boldness excited me. "Stroke that cock harder and faster boy, but you can't cum until I have that #. I deserve it don't I?" she asked. When she put it that way I gave up the # and then I was rewarded with a magnificent orgasm. 

Back to now, I called the listing she asked me to and on one ring she answered "Hello slut."

"Hello Mistress."

"Stroke your cock for me slut. You know the rules: thumb and index finger, nice and slow. Think about me and how you want to please me. No cumming without my permission."

My thumb and index finger were not enough stimulation but combined with her voice and the promise of meeting her face-to-face were more than enough to keep me hard. 

"Open the drawer under the TV."

I turned to face the TV and saw the drawer. Inside the drawer were panties and a white box. 

"Pick out a pair of panties and put them on."

I picked a pink pair. They were boy shorts and I slipped them on easily. They fit perfectly.

"Are they on?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Good now you can stroke your cock with only your index finger on the material." Then she laughed.

I started to comply and then moaned. The feeling was incredible. So soft and stimulating too.

"You even moan like a whore. I like that."

"Thank you Mistress."

"How long has it been since I let you have an orgasm?"

"Four weeks and five days."

"That's an awfully long time isn't it?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Do you want to cum for me now?"

"Yes I do Mistress."

"Good then you'll have no trouble doing something for me will you?"

"No Mistress. No trouble."

"I'm in the parking lot and I want you to stand in the doorway with your hands pressed on the wall above your head."

I paused to think about what she said. "Won't I get into trouble?"

"You are a motel whore. Show me how you solicit business with your body."

Consumed by true lust and devotion to Mistress Nikki, I stepped to the door and opened it wider. She was here already: standing before me wearing a long rain coat, holding a cell phone to her ear and smiling back at me. She clicked off her phone and then dropped it into the open purse that hung from her shoulder and said "Show me."

I raised my hands to press the door jam above my head and then I moved my hands and feet to the door jamb's corners. I stood like a big X and I closed my eyes and slowly twisted at my waist. My intent was to twist and undulate pressing my bare chest toward her while my ass went in the opposite direction. I did my best and hoped she was convinced as I moved my chest away from view and presented a full frontal view of my pink boy shorts and the hard cock that lay visibly beneath the material. 

If I had a name for this gyration it would be "sexy lean and twist." It is something I always wanted to watch a woman to do for me and now I'm trying to do this to seduce my Mistress. When I opened my eyes again I was nearly upright yet looking at the middle of her rain coat. How hot would it be if she opened it and invited me to take her into my mouth right here? I moaned over my delicious wish and then I scanned upward to catch her gaze with mine. 

Mistress smiled and then she stepped closer and pushed herself into me. "You look so much better live than on cam, do you know that?" she asked.

"So do you Mistress."

"Hi" she whispered and drew closer to me.

"Hi" I replied just before our lips met and we kissed. It was an unrehearsed, natural greeting. Our chemistry took over immediately. Whatever had been planned was just interrupted. The only thing that mattered now was the course our bodies desired. I embraced her in my arms and pressed myself into her as she did the same. It was my first time ever to embrace a woman and feel her excitement poking back at me. Our fantasy was now reality. To feel her in my arms after so many phone calls and dreams was a blessing and a privilege I hoped never to take for granted.

Mistress moaned in my mouth. Her tongue darted past my teeth and tapped against my tongue. I let her in, relaxing my jaw and flattening my tongue. I want her in my mouth. I wish I could tell her without stopping our kiss. She reaches up my back and grips my head in her soft hand. Her fingers comb through my hair and then press onto my scalp. She holds my head firmly now and ravishes my mouth with her tongue. I love this. It's a dominant's kiss. Passionate and devouring, her effect on me is immense. 

My body reacts on impulse in search of the physical stimulation that touches my soul by way of my cock. I grind my panty covered cock into her rain coat as Mistress Nikki continues her tonguing of my open mouth. My movement down below feels good and yet I know my height makes it difficult for Mistress to control our kiss and so I stop the grind and acquiesce to her desires.

The kiss takes on a life of its own. My face is wet with her saliva and man o man she tastes good: fresh and clean and wonderful. I swallow her breath and the moisture from her kiss so she can become part of me. And then as her vigor subsides I feel a new need coming on strong: to reciprocate the deep soul-touching kiss she has given me. 

This woman taps my lust like no other and now that we embrace like lovers, I take my turn, moving my hand between her shoulder blades, over the nape of her neck and on to the back of her head as her hand relinquishes its grip on mine. She is in my grip now and with my other hand at her waist I take over our kiss.

My tongue enters her mouth with the confidence of a winning prize fighter who has withstood the opening round's flurry of activity and now takes his turn with the counters and attacks. Nikki accepts my turn of passion and lust. Her jaw relaxes to me and I press my mouth onto her face and shove my tongue as deep into her mouth as I can. The stretch on the underside of my tongue begins to burn and I must withdraw slightly. Yet I want to go deeper to show her my desire, to convince her I love her without having to interrupt our passion with words.

When our kiss subsides we part and look at one another. "That was some first kiss," she says and pats her chest with her fingers. 

"Yeah, it was incredible. I loved the way you kissed me first and I just couldn't help it I needed to kiss you back with equal fervor."

"Invite me in?" she asked.

"Of course," I said and walked backward and to the side to let her in.

She walked into the room, past me and put her purse on the counter. Then she turned and said "Why don't you be a good boy and shut the door for us."

I reached for the door as I stepped to it and shut it swiftly. The room was dark now and I said "where is the light?"

I could hear her moving and then she switched on the lamp hanging over the table that stood between the bed and door. I stroked lightly on the outline of my cock thinking about the second half of our kiss. I was still feeling the remnants of the alpha male coursing through my body and I looked at Nikki not as my Mistress but as a woman I wanted to take and make love to. 

Yet the material around my cock was a swift reminder of my real place in Nikki's life. And as quickly as the alpha surfaced, he was replaced by the maiden.

Free of the mask of strength and manliness, I decide to wait for Mistress to speak first.

"Come here baby," she said. Her finger was crooked and moving as if to beckon me to her. When we were face to face again, looking into each other's eyes and feeling the magnetism I whispered "Your eyes are so beautiful Mistress." 

"Thank you my slut," she whispered. "I told you that you would like them."

I nodded and gazed at her mouth momentarily. Her soft supple lips looked so inviting and I wanted to kiss them again. 

"Tell me whore, are you ready to see my cock?"

A new light cast within me. Her simple question was my first trigger and the response was quiet acknowledgement. 

"Uh huh," I mumbled. 

She had given me this trigger and many others on the phone. We were just talking on the phone one day and she explained everything she wanted to do including using chastity and the planting of sexual triggers in my brain to guide and control my complete surrender to her. The very idea made me want to jerk off immediately. She took me to the edge and as I was on the brim of cumming, I begged for the triggers and promised to do anything she wanted. It took time but eventually I receive my cock lock in the mail and we started having the ice calls. The day or days before a call I put my cock lock on and froze the key in ice. At the start of the call I put the ice on a warm plate and then listened to Mistress as she put me under hypnosis. It was a magical experience. I felt safe and comfortable the entire time. And an hour later, I was fully awake, refreshed, released from the cock lock and openly masturbating as a tribute to my Mistress. 

But now as I stand here with Mistress, the trigger unlocked the response and my response unlocked a memory and I found myself dropping to my knees before her. Then I looked upward with my mouth open. It seemed as though she were smiling but the distance, angle of vision and lighting made it impossible for me to discern any real expression on her lips. Then I got my answer. In one movement she opened her coat and let it fall over her shoulders and onto the floor behind her.

(To be continued.)



Sweet Surrender



**I apologize at how long this is. Also it does take a while before there is any sex. However, I hope everyone likes it. Please let me know by voting and/or emailing me. :)***



Luke glanced at the woman sitting beside him and found it hard to fight his grin. For the last 30 minutes, the woman had been doing deep-breathing exercises, apparently without much success.

From the moment she'd sat down beside him on the airplane headed to Jamaica, she'd had a death grip on the arm of her seat as if it were her last lifeline. And the truly sad thing was that the plane hadn't taken off yet. It had simply taxi'd out on the runaway and there they had sat waiting for the gods of aviation to grant them favor for the last 30 minutes. 

Luke had to admit against his better judgment, he was enjoying the woman's mental angst. Sure, he knew it was wrong to feel joy at someone else's pain, but truthfully he didn't care. She had seemed to get underneath his skin from the minute she'd sat down. She had brushed by him, rubbing her body swiftly against his before plopping into her seat without even a small 'excuse me'.

Suddenly an eye popped open and he got a blast of wintergreen ice as she glared daggers at him.

"What?" she drawled in a sweet southern voice and just like that, he was smitten. Luke had one weakness. Very few people were aware of it, but nothing dropped his defenses like a southern girl. Didn't matter what age, or how she looked, he was putty in their hands. Yeah, he was easy. All the blame had to rest on the shoulders of his army recruiter who'd sent to him Basic in South Carolina. 

All of a sudden he realized that he'd been starring at her for minutes, long, long minutes if the expression on her face was any clue.

"Huh?" he muttered, and barely suppressed a wince. Yeah, master of the spoken word was he. 

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, why?" Without meaning to his gaze fell to the full lips forming the words. And he felt his stomach drop out the plane. Full luscious lips that brought to mind lazy Sundays whiled away beneath the sheets, that unfortunately at the moment were snarled up at him. 

"Uh, no, are you suppose to have something on your face?"

"I was wondering why you've been staring at me for the last 45 minutes," she said, turning fully to face him then.

"Uh," And Luke almost popped himself in the back of the head. This chick had the power to reduce him to mush in just a few milliseconds. "I was wondering if you were ok. Plus I was kinda hoping you weren't gonna upchuck. This flight is seriously gonna suck ass if something starts yacking."

Instead of smiling like he had intended her to, she glared at him. That in itself was unusual. Shit, Luke thought, woman had been doing whatever he'd wanted since the cradle. To have this....shrew....not respond to him as he had for her was in a word, disconcerting, if just not damn annoying.

"Listen, GI Joke, I'm gonna try to be nice here and not rip you a new one but you're really gonna have to work with me here, ok?"

"Really," he quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement. "And how do you plan to do that, baby cakes?"

Just like that, her brows dipped down in a perfect V and he knew that he might have overdone it a smidge.

"Listen, dickweed, today is not a day to play with me, ok? I'm trapped on a tin can, seated next to Captain Punk, flying, flying, FUCKING FLYING. So if you want to live to see your next birthday, hell, to see if this plane lands, DO. NOT. FUCK. WITH. ME."

Luke could almost see the steam flaming from her nostrils and felt nothing but amusement. This little slip of a woman expected to frighten him? He'd faced scarier hang nails than her. She, well, he thought he could handle her in his sleep. But he had to hand it to her, she was great for a laugh.

He glanced up and down her body, lingering on the good parts: lips, tits and hips. The three essentials in his own expert opinion. He wasn't ashamed to admit he paused longer on her tits than anything else though. But in his own defense, they were the nicest pair he'd seen in a while. 

The unnamed shrew rolled her eyes before closing them to continue her deep breathing. This allowed her a chance to stare at her tits without feeling like a dirty ol' man. They were spectacular in his unbiased opinion. More than a handful and he had big hands. 

At 6'5, 315 lbs, he was a man not to be reckoned with. His body had been honed by the military to be an elite fighting machine and Luke didn't mind bragging but he had been good at his job. However, after 20 years of living out of a knapsack, he was tired. That's why when an old army buddy had extended an invite to his lavish beach wedding in Kingston, Jamaica and hinted at the chance of a job in Blaine's private security firm, he'd packed his shit. Which is how he came to be seated next to the most ill-tempered woman of the century. And to tell you the truth, Luke hadn't had this much fun since he'd gotten to blow up that land mine in Fallujah.

"So, are you gonna ignore me the whole ride, 'cause I gotta warn ya, if ignored, I just get worse," Luke informed her.

Once again he was gifted with a one-eye salute. "Do you go around trying to deliberately piss people off or are you just gifting me with that special service today?"

"Mmm, must be just you. Most women love me." He couldn't stop the Cheshire cat grin that accompanied that statement.

She rolled her eyes before replying. "Of that I have no doubt. Just another clue that civilization as we know it is going to hell in a hand basket it."

He snorted and turned toward her. He couldn't keep his eyes from roaming over her lips before continuing to visually caress her body. She really wasn't that much to look at. She was large. He didn't even try to say chunky, phat with a ph, or any of those cutesy terms people use to make their friends or even themselves feel better nowadays. However there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the way she spit at him when no other woman had since...well, ever. Or maybe he'd been trapped in a humvee with 4 other guys with nothing to look at but camels and goats too long.

"So we're already found out that I don't crank your tractor. I guess I shouldn't ask this, but what does? Are you a lesbian? Like farm animals? Weird satanic rituals to appease your lord and master, Lucifer?"

She stared at him astonishment. "Ok, first of all, did you just say 'crank your tractor'? Who the hell says that anymore? Secondly, why the hell should it matter what gets my motor running? What business is it of yours?"

"None, but I'm naturally curious. That's why my friends call me whiskers," he joked, using the classic SNL joke.

Then the most amazing thing happened. The hell beast actually laughed. Luke was stunned at the beauty beside him who had taken the place of his hellacious travel partner. Her whole demeanor had transformed and left him gasping. But as quickly as she'd come, Beauty departed, leaving him mourning her loss as is he'd lost a limb.

"Plus," he said, his voice subdued and filled with long, "It's a long flight to Jamaica. Would you rather sit here and think about all the ways the plane could crash or..." He paused and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Or spend that time making a new friend, a gorgeous, strong friend who would throw himself over you in the event of a crash."

She chuckled, "That's awfully gallant of you except then I'd be the one on the bottom so I'd hit the ground first."

At her words, thoughts of her underneath him filled his mind. And just that quick, he was lost. She didn't have to be beautiful in the traditional way. She did something to him that was unexplainable. But for the first time in his life he didn't want or need to explain it. 

He thrust his hand out to her. "I'm Luke, by the way."

She just looked at his hand and burst into laughter. "Of course you are."

"What's that mean?"

"Of course you wouldn't have a name like Richard or Bob. It would have to be something manly like Luke. Bet you were named after some ancestor who wrestled cows or some shit like that," and she rolled her eyes. If she kept that up, he was afraid they'd roll so far back they would get stuck.

"Well for your information, Miss Smarty, I was actually named after a literary figure." Just seconds after the words emerged from his lips, he could only think please, please don't ask me which book. 

"Really? I like to read, maybe I've read the book."

Dammit. "I doubt very seriously you have. It was a very old book that struck a cord with my mother during her pregnancy and she named me after the male lead character."

"Try me," and just like that he knew that there was no way getting around her. The steel was evident in her voice. 

" 'Her Richest Desire'", he mumbled, turning his face away from her. 

"Excuse me? What was that? Did you say 'Her Richest Desire'? The bodice ripper about Delilah, the poor orphan and Lord Luke, the benevolent benefactor who saved her from a life of servitude and despair?"

'I see you read it," he quipped.

'Uh, yeah, like when I was, uh, 12. But I don't understand. That book was terrible. Luke was an asshole. He treated Delilah like shit, plus he made her life a living hell during the whole book. Why would -- Never mind, I understand now," she said, nodding her head.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, I've read that some mother's just KNOW what their children are gonna be like when they grow up. Sorta like when a child is named Damian and goes on to worship the devil. Your mother must have known you would grow up to be a gigantic jerk just like the character."

She grinned up at him cheekily, making him want to strangle her and kiss her all at the same time. 

"Well Miss High and Mighty, what's your name? Olivia, Jane, Tabitha? Something hoighty toighty like that, huh?" he sneered at her, leaning into her space. She was magnetic almost, pulling him closer and closer to her every second.

"My name is Emily-Jane, if you must know," she replied, looking down her button nose at him.

"You're a hyphenated!" he exclaimed, pointing at her as he laughed.

"What?"

"Your name is hyphenated. God, you are so pretentious even your name is stuck up."

"I am not," she argued, the drawl in her voice becoming more pronounced. "You don't even know me. I am not stuck up."

"Sure you are. I bet you fly to Jamaica every week to meet some Latin lover who roughs you up for a few days before you fly back to Atlanta to plan parties for Daddy. And to make it worse, you're a redneck hyphenated."

Emily-Jane gazed at him incredulously. "What the hell are you blathering on about?"

Luke simply grinned at her, and in that moment wanted to kiss the tip of her nose for some reason. Thankfully he was smart enough not to do just that or he'd probably be leaving the plane on a stretcher with her following in handcuffs. 

Just then the captain came over the intercom. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, we are cleared for take off. There appears to be clear skies today and with the help of the trade winds, you should be partying on the beach in Jamaica in 4 or 5 hours from now. Thanks for traveling Delta and once again have a great vacation."

Luke could feel the plane start to move forward and braced himself. He glanced at Emily-Jane and saw that in preparation she had jammed her head back up and her hands were tight around the armrest. For some reason the idea of her being frightened didn't sit well with him, and without realizing it, he reached over, grabbing her closest hand.

Emily-Jane looked at him from beneath her lashes and without saying it, he felt her thanks. She laid her head on his broad shoulder as the plane took to the air and nothing was said until the plane leveled out. As soon as the plane was horizontal, her head popped up and her little hand was jerked from his as if he had a STD. He swiftly understood the meaning of bereft. 

"Thanks," she muttered without meeting his eye.

"Don't mention it, squirt. Is this the first time you've flown?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?," she asked dryly. 

"Well, it could have been the fingernail impressions imprinted in my hand or it could be I'm psychic. Take your pick," he said, winking at her.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No prob. So if you hate to fly, why are you even on this flight?"

"My stupid sister." And that's all she said. As if that would keep from getting any other information out of her.

"Squirt, you got 2 seconds to spill or I'm gonna start using the torture techniques the Army taught me."

Emily-Jane stared at him for a few moments as if weighing her options before apparently realizing resistance was futile. "My stupid older sister decided she just HAD to get married on the beach in Jamaica. Now she knows that South Carolina has beaches and those don't include a fricking plane ride but does she care? Noooo.... She had to have this damn wedding. So here I am, squeezing my lard ass into a seat 4 times too small, praying we don't crash."

"Well, you know how women are when they get married." She leveled him with a look of such suffering he couldn't contain his laugh.

"Aww, squirt, it's not all bad. Just look at it this way. Without your stupid sister's wedding, you would never have met me."

"And that in itself would have been a tragedy against all humanity," and those gorgeous eyes rolled once again.

"Damn straight."

She giggled and glanced out the window beside her, giving him the chance to peruse her again. Her hair, a nondescript brown, appeared to reach the middle of her back. As he watched her peer at the clouds outside the window, he couldn't keep from thinking how silky those tresses would feel clenched into his fist as she kneeled before him. She would smile up at him as she licked his cum from her lips.

"Can I offer you or your wife a blanket, some peanuts, or a beverage," the stewardess broke into his thoughts, causing him to jump violently. 

"Uh, no, we're fine. Thanks so much though," he said before Emily-Jane could contradict the other woman. She allowed it, her only motion a small tightening of her lips. Luke couldn't explain why he had let the flight attendant think they were married. But the more he thought of the beguiling woman being HIS, the more he liked it.

Luke waited for her to explode on him and it wasn't long before she didn't disappoint him. 

"What the fuck was that?"

"What?"

"I might have wanted some peanuts, douche. I mean, did you stop to think for a second that I do have a mouth and I've been taking care of myself for a long time. Hell, I mastered the power of speak at 6 months old."

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you are angry?"

Emily-Jane looked at him with her mouth open a little. To say it wasn't a great look for her was a major understatement. However, without missing a single beat, she asked, "Are you high? 'Cause you should really put down the pipe, dude. That shit'll fuck you up. One day you're fine, the next you're naked in a Costco, staring aimlessly at the cantaloupes. That shit happened to like my second cousin. He went to medical school, now he doesn't even know his last name and," she leaned in close, whispering, "my mom says he has to wear a helmet."

"You are he-larious."

"Thanks. I'm here all night. Try the veal and remember to tips your waitress," she chuckled.

"So are you a comedienne or something," he asked once he could breathe again from laughing so hard.

"Nah, I work for a bank."

"Oh. I'm in the Army," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock," was her intelligent reply.

He glanced down at his attire. He was in civvs so he wasn't sure how she knew he was military. Before he could ask, she enlightened him.

"You have the look."

"What look?" Already sure what her response was going to be.

"That, 'I've been trapped in a desert country for 14 months with no T & A and I'm looking to get lucky." She shrugged. " I figured military or prison. But I guess in prison you would have at least gotten some ass so I gave you the benefit of the doubt."

"Actually, its been 2 years since T & A, since you asked."

Emily-Jane grimaced. "Dude....no wonder. Hey, when we land you should totally pick up some random island girl and have at it. Oooo. Better yet, 2 chicks at the same time. You got 2 years to make up for here. I mean, that's totally what I would do."

He sent her one of her looks right back her to which simply gave him an eat-shit grin. "Thanks so much for the info, midget. Now my life is complete. I've just gotten dating advice from a hobbit."

"Hey, I didn't say anything about dating 'em. I said to tear that shit up and move the fuck on."

Luke could only blink at her in astonishment for her candor. This chick was such a guy. Maybe that's why he liked her. She reminded him of some of his men.

"And while I'm thinking about it, what's with all the name calling? I'm not short. In fact, in women standards, I'm above average height. I am 5'6, thank you very much. 5'6 ¾ to be exact."

"You are a giant among men...er, women, aren't ya?"

"You know it." 

He just grinned at her. "But to tell you the truth, I'm 6'5. Anyone not 6'5 and above is short in my book."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. She stared at him as if he had lost his ever-loving mind. And maybe he had. She made him feel....well, she just made him feel. After some of the things he had seen and down in his life, that was the most amazing part. He had never met anyone like her and in that second, he couldn't imagine what his life would have been without her.

"Is there a certain reason you just did a Pepe Lepue on my hand without warning me first?"

"I was so overcome by your beauty I couldn't contain myself any longer. I had to have you near me."

"Dude, we really have to stage an intervention for you 'cause the wacky-weed is not your friend."

He smiled but didn't say anything. He knew it was too early to KNOW this woman was his so he kept his feelings to himself. Plus he had a idea that she was a tough sell when it came to relationships, of the heart or any other.

"Is this your sister's first marriage?" he asked to break the sudden silence.

"Hell no. That's why I'm so pissed. This is her second marriage. Sure, her first husband was a major dick but lord, she almost 40 years old. Now is not the time to be acting like a freaking bridezilla."

"So she told you if you didn't come, she'd kick your ass, huh?"

She smirked at him. "She wish. I've been bigger than her since I was 2. No, she brought out the big guns."

"Said she was gonna tell on ya to mommy and daddy?"

"Shoot, my parents AGREE with me. They told her that she should get married in Charleston and then honeymoon in Jamaica if she wanted to go there so bad. But that was after my mama told her they should just skip the whole ceremony and get married at the courthouse.

"No, my sister, the diabolical fiend that she is, said that if we didn't go to the wedding, we couldn't see the kids anymore. So that's why I'm praying this aluminum bird doesn't decide to plummet to the earth suddenly."

She bent down and grabbed a black hair thingy from her carry-on bag before pulling her long silky hair into a ponytail at the top of her head. This allowed him the chance to see her long graceful neck. And as with every other part of her body revealed to him, his mind ran wild with ideas. He could see himself latching his mouth to the base of her throat as he pressed his cock into her faster and faster. Her hands would be gripping his sweat-slick back as he rode her completion. He knew in that moment he would have to have this woman at any cost.

"Well, now that you know my life story, what's your reason to being on this contraption of death?"

"Same as you. Got a wedding. Ol' Army buddy of mine is taking the plunge. I had some R & R time between assignments so I said I'd come stand up with him."




Sweet Surrender



"Uncle Sam lets you off for weddings now? Huh, guess you learn something new everyday," she unbuckled her seat belt and pulled a leg underneath her before sitting back down. "Where you stationed at?"

"Fort Polk, Louisiana."

"How long you been in?"

"20 years."

"Wow." She pulled her knee against her chest and wrapped her arms around it. "I'm not going to even ask if you like it. You wouldn't still be in if you didn't. So which one are you?"

"Huh?"

"You know," she replied, holding her fingers up as she counted, "separated, married but still living together because it's cheaper, or married but still together for the kids."

She was speaking, of course, of the many lies that servicemen had been known to tell the women around the bases. As much as he wanted to deny that it happened, he knew that some of his brothers and sister's in arms had used them before.

"None, I'm single." But in truth, now, he didn't know just what he was. He wanted her, that much was true but he wasn't sure if they had a chance in hell in making it. She was too prickly and he was still unsure what he wanted to do with his life. Sure, he thought it was time that he got out of the service but that didn't mean that he was actually going to take the chance. 

Emily-Jane snorted. "Just 'cause you live in Baled, Iraq and she lives in Des Moines does not make you single. But hell, whatever gets you through the night, stud."

Luke leaned into her and leered. "Baby, you have no idea how much of a stud I am. You want to jump on, I'll give you the ride of your life."

She ogled him before bursting into laughter. "You are so full of shit, its amazing you can even breathe. Please. You wouldn't be able to handle ALL this," she said, using her hand to showcase her gorgeous body. 

There were so many things that he wanted to show her to prove that he could handle all of her, but he simple told her to try him before moving back to their original conversation. "How do you know so much about the military anyway? Are you a barrack's brat?"

Emily-Jane leaned up against him, yawning. "No, I work for a financial institution that caters to you ass--amazing men and women. Believe me, you have no idea how many times a day I get ask out by the little boys in basic." 

Luke couldn't keep himself from kissing the top of her head as she yawned once again. He had no problem believing that men found her attractive. She had a presence that called to a man. The only thing he couldn't figure out is why some other poor slob hadn't grabbed her up already. Oh, well, he thought, I guess I do have pretty good luck huh? "You sleepy, baby?"

She nodded and filled his nose with the scent of roses as her head smoothed against his shoulder. "I had to work today. That's why I'm not already in Jamaica. Everybody else left yesterday but I couldn't get off work. So I worked a full 8 hours and then jetted to the airport to board this damn death trap."

He slowly moved his arm from under her head and pulled her further into his arms. "Well, go to sleep. I promise if the plane crashes I'll put myself on the bottom and cushion your fall."

"Luke, my friend, you are a prince among men," she said, before closing her eyes and succumbing to sleep. 

He couldn't keep himself from watching her as she slept. She looked so peaceful. He wasn't sure but he placed her age in her late 20s but when she was asleep she looked so much younger. There was a hardness that hung over her when she was awake but seeing her sleep as if safe made him feel as if that hardness hadn't fully taken over her. 

He traced the slight curve of her nose down to the full lips resting beneath and couldn't stop himself from running a finger over the softest lips he'd ever seen. There were so many things that he couldn't wait to do to that mouth. He knew that kissing her would be a life changing experience and he really couldn't wait until he had to chance to finally get to taste that ruby red mouth. He knew that just thinking about her sucking his cock was enough to make him hard so he was almost afraid that when it did happen that he would blow his top just seconds from her kissing his tip. 

She murmured in her sleep, the words unclear, before snuggling closer to him. Her left arm loosen and dropped into his lap right about his cock, his erect cock. The feel of her hand pressed against him was more that he could take. He couldn't control his hips from lurching upwards. He could just imagine her smile up at him as she slide her hand up and down the front of his jeans. He would warn her stop but her, being the brat that she was, wouldn't listen. She would simply grip his cock harder in her small hand before pumping him through the denim. Luke would lean in and whisper in her ear that he was going to spank her if they got caught. She would giggle and say that she wanted a spanking, so maybe she should make more noise. 

Luke took a deep breath and tried to control his pulse as he returned back to the real world. She was still sleeping, thank god, none the wiser of his dirty intention. His grinding into her hand had caused her sleeve to be pushed up slightly. This gave him a view of the words tattooed in black on the inside of her wrist. 

Unable at first to read the small print, he grasped her wrist lightly, pulling it up to eye level. 

Upon her wrist, written in a stylized lettering were the words, "I'm NOT fine, I'm NOT sorry, and I DO care."

As the plane continued its smooth sailing toward their destination, he pondered those words. Obviously those words were a mantra for her, but why would it be so important that she would have them imprinted onto her? Those words didn't match the view of who she was, or at least in the small amount of time that he had spent with her. He didn't get the feeling that she would willingly apologize unless she was the one fully at fault. And even then, she would have to have the words pulled from her lips like a root canal. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat after pressing his lips softly against those words. Whatever had shaped her into the spunky woman beside him had obviously been a trail by fire. Luke's heart ached for the pain he knew just HAD to have been caused for her to be so abrasive. He had a feeling that she was like that with everyone, not just newcomers. 

He had a feeling she pulled a face over the real her so people wouldn't waste time on her. However, that wasn't going to work on him. Luke wanted this woman and she nor anyone else was going to keep him from his target. He hadn't spent the last 10 years of the service in recon for nothing. She, with those beautiful green eyes and knee-buckling lips, wouldn't know what hit her. She was HIS, goddamn it. Now he just had to convince her of that. 

Emily-Jane slowly awoke, wondering why it was so damn hot and why the smell of spice filled her nostril. At first she thought perhaps she was dead and had ended up in Hades. But no, the last time--

Just then an intercom clicked on and a man's voice said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We are now cleared to land at Norman Marley International Airport. The weather is a balmy 85 degrees and there's not a cloud in the sky. Thanks for being a great flight and once again thanks for flying Delta Airlines."

And just like that the last few moments were clear to her. She was on a plane flying to Jamaica to watch her asinine sister ruin her life by getting married again. And that was how she had been given the chance to meet the He-Man she now used as a pillow. A very hard, warm pillow that smelt A-MAZING. 

She smiled slightly as she remembered the banter they had shared before she had drifted off to sleep. He hadn't seem to mind in the least that she had given him hell. In fact, he seemed to actually think she was flirting with him or some nonsense like that. Most men would have traded seats with someone else in a matter of seconds bur he'd held out. She winced as she remembered how she had almost insulted him and his profession. He hadn't even batted an eyelash . He had in fact gone out of his way to make her feel more comfortable aboard this damn bag of bolts. 

Emily-Jane mentally shrugged. It was true that those in the armed forces were prepared to nice to almost anyone. Apparently, that includes a bitchy woman like me, she thought. 

He was handsome, though, she thought as she felt his chest expand with every breath he took. She had unfortunately noticed that as soon as she started walking toward him on the plane. In fact, she had said a little prayer that God didn't put her next to him on the airplane for fear that she would say or do something that would fully embarrass herself. However, God had stopped listening to her prayers a while ago as evident by the fact that she ended up squished in beside him. 

She had known almost as soon as she saw him that he was military. He practically screamed that he knew how to kill a man with just the tip of his fingernail. He was every one of her fantasies rolled into one: tall, built like brick shithouse and if she wasn't mistaken, he appeared to be Native American in descent. He was enough to make a lesbian swoon. Plus, did she mention the fact that he was packing a battalion's worth of guns? But was way out of her league. And she was off men for the next...oh, decade if possible. She was thinking seriously about taking a chance with chicks. They had to be easier, that or she was just gonna start relying on the plastic persuasion for all her pleasure needs. 

"You gonna play possum all day or get up and start the day?" his voice grumbled, the sleep obvious in his voice. It appeared that she wasn't the only one who had succumbed to exhaustion.

"I was hoping that if I didn't open my eyes, I would be home in my bed and all this shit would be a huge nightmare." She creaked an eye open to see him peeking down at her in amused. Yep, she thought, still handsome as all get out. 

To throw him off though, she snarled at him, "Please don't tell me you're chipper first thing after you wake up or else I'm going to kill you just for the principal of it."

He leaned into her personal space and then of all things, KISSED her on her nose. She jerked her head back so fast her forehead connected with his chin causing his teeth to click together but not before feeling how silky his lips were. 

They both veered back into their seats and he hissed at her. "Damn it woman, what the hell did you go and do that for?"

Emily-Jane thought he might be speaking hypothetically but she answered anyway. "What the fuck were doing you, idiot?"

"Kissing you. What did you think I was doing, checking you for ticks?" he growled at her, his heavy brows lowered giving him a slight Neanderthal look. She almost couldn't keep the laugh from emerging. He made her laugh, and with her track record, that was NOT a good thing. But once she stepped off this place, she would never had to see him again, she reminded herself. For some reason, instead of making her extremely happy, it left her feeling empty.

"Do you just go around kissing random woman because I gotta say, it that's true, its creepy as well as gross. You don't have any idea where my lips have been."

He smirked at her, which brought her attention to his lips. They were perfect. He had a larger bottom lips that brought mind hours and hours kissing him with no interruptions from the outside world.

Emily-Jane could find nothing about him that was unbecoming which made her instantly suspicious. Anyone who looked like him and who was flirting with someone who looked like a before picture on the Biggest Loser had to be up to something.

He broke her from her thoughts saying, "I've got an idea where I'd like them to be. 

Emily-Jane's ire rose and she saw red. "Listen, Sergeant Stupid, I don't have any money."

"What?" he asked in confusion. He was really having the hardest time following a conversation with this woman. She had the amazing ability to bounce from one conversation to another without even changing speeds. 

"I. DO. NOT. HAVE. ANY. MONEY." Emily-Jane said, pantomiming fake sign language. "I work for a bank, numb nuts. I can barely cover my bills and still afford groceries."

Luke glared at her before slowly releasing his breath loudly. "I have no freaking idea what the hell you are blathering on about but you have one more time to call me a name and that's it, squirt. You won't like what I do to you if you say something mean to me again."

She simply rolled her eyes. She had a good idea he was trying to scam her out of her fortune. One problem with that was that she didn't have a fortune to be scammed out of, so it appeared he was just SOL. Her money situation was like many other single people out there. She lived paycheck to paycheck and prayed that all the bills got paid that month. Extras weren't in the budget. That's why this damn wedding was so fucking aggravating. Not only had she had to pay for the butt-ugliest dress she was expected to wear, she was also going to have to pay for any spending she incurred in Jamaica. Thank God her future brother was loaded and was paying for the rooms and food on this tour to her own private hell.

"Ok, let's get one thing straight. I am not looking for a gigolo. In fact, I'm not even into guys right now. I think I am going to be gay for a while. So I guess what I'm saying is that it's not you, it's me. I'm just not interested in dating at the moment."

He gawked at her for several moments, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. She thought he was interested in her for money? Did this woman not have any idea just what she did to men around her? He could tell just from looking at her face that she was serious and that she did in fact have no idea that she was beautiful to him. I am really going to have my hands full with this one, he thought. That didn't keep him from muttering "psycho" under his breath but loud enough for her to hear. 

Instead of being insulted, Emily-Jane wanted to smile. He really was too cute for his own good. The bad thing was he knew it. She had not doubt that he was a pimp when it came to women and while she couldn't deny that he was attractive, she didn't need the distraction. She was just getting her life moderately back on track. She knew if she got tangled up with him she wouldn't just limp away like she did before. He would leave her breathless and broken into little pieces. 

The plane jerked her from her thoughts, surging her forward into the seatbelt tightened around her waist. She snapped back against the seat before muttering "fuck". She, however, couldn't help seeing him grin at her distress. Just another reason to give him up. He's a gigantic jerk, she thought while sending him the evil eye. 

The plane stopped rolling , the doors were opened and the stairs rolled up to the opening. "Thank you, baby Jesus," she heard him mutter before he climbed to his feet and she was left gasping. Dayam, that boy was TALL. He'd told her was 6'5 but until she'd actually seen him standing up, she hadn't been quite prepared for it. He was, as a friend of hers said, a panty-dropper. He could walk by a woman and her panties would simply fall off. Emily-Jane had no doubt that everything about the man was proportioned just right. And you had to go and show him just how much of a deranged idiot you really are, she thought.

Emily-Jane mourned the loss of all that but realized that even is she hadn't made a damn fool of herself, she would never have seen him again anyway. They were two ships...er planes, passing in the night or late afternoon, whatever the case may actually be.

"Are you coming, wife," his voice broke into her thoughts, stressing the word, "or are we gonna stay on the plane all night?"

"Yeah, lady," a slurred voice piped in from behind him, "you're delaying my par-tay. So how about move that big ass somewhere else?"

Emily-Jane peered at the college kid behind Luke and almost laughed. He appeared to have already started his par-tay if the way he was swaying in the isle was any clue. She knew his type, had in fact, par-taied with those like him in college. However Luke didn't seem to share her sense of humor. He glowered at the boy so hard, she thought that is looks could have killed, frat boy would have been packed on ice and shipped home in a casket. 

"What did you just say to her, shit-head?"

Emily-Jane thought that this might be a good time to step in before Luke ended up in the federal pen for starting a disturbance on an airplane. 

"Ok, that's enough Sir Galahad, let's get you off the plane before you kill the little boy. I'm sure his mommy and daddy would hate to have to buy a casket for him. Plus you might lose your job and then what would happen? I'm too young and pretty to end up in debtor's prison. Please, oh please, don't let me be poor," she said, the sarcasm heavy in her sweet southern voice.

Luke couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips. He controlled it, however, before turning to the frat boy and saying, "You better be glad she stepped in boy, with her "big ass". And wouldn't you know it, he actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. Bless his heart.

"Dude, you seriously need to chill. I like the big, thick chicks myself. In fact, Mama," little genius boy said, "when you get tired of Mr. Marine here, why not come give this a test drive," he said, motioning to his crotch.

Emily-Jane did laugh them and as she stepped into the isle she pinched his cheek. "Sweetheart, I would break you in two, but thanks. I haven't laughed like that in a very long time."

She turned and sashayed down the aisle and out into the late evening sun. The beauty of the island took her breath away. Even the airport was awesome. The place was so green. Growing up in the south, Emily-Jane had an unnatural attachment to green spaces. She'd grown up doing guy things with her daddy so anywhere there's trees and lots of green grass, she felt an affinity for. Jamaica, if the rest of it looked like the airport, was going to be wonderful.

"So I guess you're going to just walk off and leave me hanging, huh?"

She turned and looked up at him with a deadpan expression. "You were expecting flowers, a ring, and a proposal? 'Cause I gotta say, that just not gonna happen, my friend."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned, leaving him to watch her walk from his life without so much as by your leave. 

Emily-Jane tried to keep her eyes facing forward as she marched across the tarmac away from the most charismatic man she had met in a long while. She had to keep reminding herself over and over that she wasn't ready for a relationship, much less with someone who had the power to leave her breathless with a single look. She needed to heal, to put her life back on track before even thinking about jumping back into the relationship game. 

She walked into the terminal and noticed her nephew first. He craned over the crowd. At 17, he was 6'3 and he still didn't seem to have reached his true height as of yet. He was so handsome, she couldn't help thinking, which he most definitely get from our side of the family. He was her baby, though, at times making it hard to imagine that sweet little boy she'd babysat for so many years all grown up. 

Beside Dillon on the tarmac stood her brother to be, Blaine. She still couldn't contain a snort every time she heard his name. What kind of name is Blaine? Especially for an old dude like him. He looked more like a Bob than anything. He was extremely skinny and tall. His bald head glistened in the late evening sun and made Emily-Jane almost wince as it blinded her. His way of dress screamed, ol' white man with no fashion sense goes on vacation. He had on a white wife beater with the brightest Hawaiian shirt she had ever seen in her life. It was lime green with PINK palm trees. And to make matters worse, he was wearing black knee socks with Birkenstocks. 




Sweet Surrender



All she could do was praise Jesus he was not hers to have to be seen with. She smirked though as she tried to imagine her uptight soccer-mom of a sister getting busy with this fashion reject. Her sister would have rather died then be seen with someone like Blaine just about 18 years ago. Oh, well, I guess that's what having three kids and no husband will do for you. Makes you super desperate for anything with a cock and a paycheck. 

Dillon noticed her first and came over to meet her. She grabbed him around his waist, jerking him into a tight hug. No matter how old he got, he would always be the dirty little kid who tagged along with her after she got out of school. Emily-Jane was only 8 years older so a lot of times she thought of him more as a little brother than a nephew. 

"Peanut, you made it. I was thinking you'd chicken out before getting on the plane. Pop Pop even said you wouldn't make it to the airport. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, at least."

She laughed at him. "So how much does Pop Pop." speaking of her father, "owe you, Bubba?"

Dillon grinned and once again she felt so old. God, it didn't seem possible that he would be graduating from high school in May. Before she knew it, she'd be thirty and then god forbid she would be forty. Better than the alternative, a voice inside her snarked. Remember what the alternative is to birthdays. Don't want that to happen again, do we?"

Thank God, Dillon broke into her thoughts at that moment. "Pop said he'd pay for surf lessons while I'm here. Mama doesn't want me to, of course,--"

"Of course."

"But Pop said if I won the bet then he would face her wraith."

Emily-Jane smiled and started moving toward the baggage claim with Dillon in tow. "I have no doubt that Pop Pop is more than happy to face your mother's wrath. We both know it wouldn't be the first time that they've knocked heads."

He snorted. "No shit."

Dillon reached the baggage claim first and grabbed her ratty luggage before she would get it. He slung the old bag over his shoulder, showing her how manly he was. He flexed his muscles for her, and she couldn't contain her laughter.

"I love you kid," she said, feeling tears prick her eyes. There had been a time when she didn't think even the thought of never seeing the kids would make her awaken. Life had seemed just plain hopeless but now, she got the chance to tell them over and over that she loved them. Even when they thought they were too old for it. Just like Dillon did now.

He pulled one of her moves and rolled his eyes before saying, "I love you too" in a monotone voice that all kids have. She grabbed his arm, twining hers through his. They made small talk as they walked back to Dillon's future step-father and a man who had joined him while they had been collecting her bags. A man who surprising looked ....just...like...Luke!

"Ah Emily-Jane, it's great to see you. I'm sure Barbie will be glad that you made the plane on time," Blaine said. His voice was a huge contradiction from his appearance. He had a deep baritone that would have put Barry White to shame. 

It took her about 5 seconds to figure out who "Barbie" was. He was, of course, referring to her older sister, Barbara. The same older sister who use to beat people up for calling her Barbie. The same sister that detested the color pink and who use to set dolls of the same name on fire.

Emily-Jane glanced at Dillon and he smirked. He knew exactly what she was thinking but knew that if she wanted to survive this trip to Paradise, she'd better keep her comments to herself. So she simply hello and swallowed any other smartass remarks. Blaine apparently had no idea of the turmoil it caused her because he simply smiled before turning to the man beside him.

"Emily-Jane, Dillon, I want to introduce you to the man who has saved my life on more than one occasion. This is Staff Sergeant Luke Monroe, an old buddy of mine. Luke, this is Emily-Jane, my future sister, and Dillon, my future son."

Emily-Jane nodded at Luke but Blaine's words were running through her head. By her estimation, Blaine had risen from 0 to a 10 on her scale simply by saying that Dillon was his son. What seemed like next to nothing in most people's minds, it meant a lot of her. Her sister's kids were the only children that she had ever loved more than breathing and she would do anything for them. That included taking them from a home where they would be mistreated by a step-father. But Blaine appeared to actually BELLIEVE that those kids were his. And that meant more than anything to her. 

Emily-Jane looked at Dillon, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Well, Blaine, you're getting a hell of a kid in exchange for my shrew of a sister. I almost feel like I'm taking advantage of you in exchange for her. Seems almost like you're getting the short end of the stick here."

Dillon laughed, "Peanut, Mama's gonna kill you."

"Not if Mama doesn't know about it. I happen to think Mama would like that information that I have concerning a certain someone more than my normal shenanigans."

He paled, swallowing nervously. He knew she was speaking of the weekend a few months ago when he had gotten plastered at a friend's house. The friend had called her to come get him. Since he was obviously under the ripe old age of 21, they both had known that her sister would kill him if she found out if her first born son was drunk off his ass. Which is why she had been sworn to secrecy and he was going to be cutting her grass and cleaning up her yard for next 6 months.

"I think, at this important time, Mama doesn't need to have any more stress. So she wouldn't need to know anything that might ruin her big day," Dillon squeaked out after glaring at her.

Blaine broke into the sudden silence. "So are you all ready to head back to the villa?"

"Oh, Peanut, you have got to see this place that Blaine has. It is hooked up. There is a 42' plasma screen in my room and guess what?" Dillon explained as they all made their way to the large white SUV parked at the curb in front of the airport. 

She couldn't contain her mirth. "What, Bubba?"

"There is every video game system known to man connected. It's like an arcade. So be prepared to get your as--I mean, butt handed to you," he sputtered to a stop.

Emily-Jane only said, "Bring it, little man, bring it." As they all climbed into the truck, Emily-Jane found herself seated next to Luke. He simply quirked an eyebrow at her. She tried to ignore how handsome he was and how good it felt pressed up against hers. She also tried to keep up the teasing with Dillon. Normally that wasn't a problem with her, she'd been doing it since he could talk but her mind wasn't behind it. 

Dillon turned to regard Luke with a level look. "So you are in the military?"

Shit, Emily-Jane thought, knowing just how much Dillon was into the military nowadays. The thought of him joining the service was enough to make her break out in hives. She couldn't imagine him having to ship out to some country where people who didn't know what the fuck the war was about would lead him into the war. She had been known to have nightmares about him being shipped home in a body bag and having to help his mother plan his funeral. While she knew it was an honorable profession she didn't want to worry about losing him either.

However, Emily-Jane didn't have to worry about Luke for all he said was "yes."

"Cool. I'm a lieutenant in my school's JROTC."

"Bubba is a gold metal winner in sharp shooting. Top one at his school," Emily-Jane couldn't help saying. Dillon blushed all the way to the root of his light-brown hair. 

Luke smiled at him slowly. "Are you thinking about a career in the military?"

"Yeah- I mean, yes, sir. I'm wanting to go into the Navy. I want to be a air traffic controller "

"He also has been accepted to Clemson University on a full ride," Blaine chimed in, "but he's still weighing the options."

"What Blaine is trying to say is that Dillon's mother isn't too happy about him waiting to go into the military. She is throwing a fit about it, in fact. Anytime it's brought up, she sticks her fingers in her ears and starts singing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," Emily-Jane quipped.

Luke looked at her and he could tell that the thought of this young man going to war was scaring her to death. She just had to power to cover it better than her sister apparently. She knew that the more that she complained about the thought of Dillon enlisting, the more that the boy would suffer. 

"You are a braver man than I am," Luke said to the young man in the front seat.

"Why is that, sir?"

Luke replied, grinning, "Trapped on a ship with 500 men and 20 women. I'm not good with those odds."

Emily-Jane couldn't stop the snort that came out of her. Yeah right, she thought, you could get play in a nunnery. He looked at her, clearly going to say something to her but suddenly the sounds of Puddle of Mudd's 'Psycho' rang out loud from her purse. 

She grabbed the bad but not before heading Luke mutter, 'That certainly sums her up to a T." Emily-Jane couldn't help showing her a close-up view of her middle finger. Which he then tried to bite!

She answered the line and heard nothing. After repeating hello for a few seconds, she closed the phone.

"Wrong number, Peanut?". Dillon asked, a slight note in his voice.

"Yep."

Blaine broke in. "So you two appear to know each other."

Emily-Jane held her breath, waiting for him to bust her but he simply stated "We sat by each other on the plane," before lapsing into silence.

She couldn't stop herself from thinking about the hang up call. She had been getting them for a while now, yet each one still have the ability to make her blood freeze. She also knew that she could NOT let her paranoia ruin her sister's wedding. Barbara would never let her live it down, not to mention, she would never get to see those kids again. For now, she would try to forget the things that had happened. She NEEDED to give her sister the wedding Barbara had been looking for.

Luke couldn't believe his luck. He had had his suspicions when he had heard they both were going to a wedding in Jamaica but he didn't think that the fates like him that much. Now he knew God was looking out for him by offering unlimited access to her for a whole week. Damn, life had suddenly become very, very interesting. 

He watched the way she interacted with her nephew and couldn't stop being amazed at the difference between the girl on the plane and the one sitting beside him. She really was gorgeous and with every smile, she melted his heart more and more.

Luke locked eyes with Blaine and somehow his friend knew the thought he was having about Blaine's future sister. He knew also that as soon as Blaine got the chance Luke would be getting an earful from him concerning the badness of that idea. 

Blaine had been his commander on his first assignment and they had saved each other's lives quite a few times over the years. They were like so many other comrade in arms and now considered each other almost brothers. However Blaine wouldn't hesitate to kick his ass if he thought it was gonna ruin his chances with his new family.

Blaine brought the car to a smooth stop in front of a huge Spanish inspired house. It appeared to be 3 floors and brought to mind old haciendas where Latin ladies danced and cowpokes were consider valeros. 

Luke heard Emily-Jane gasp in surprise before muttering "Damn if you'd put me up in a house like this 24/7, Blaine, shit, I'd marry you."

Dillon laughed as he grabbed her bag. "Gotta say, Peanut, you'd have to fight Mama for him.

She smirked at him before blowing him a kiss. "Bubba, I was fighting your mama before you were a twinkle in her eye."

Blaine sputtered, "I'm not a bone to be grappled over anyway. I love you mother, Dillon, and nothing will ever change that."

Dillon and Emily-Jane shared a look before bursting into laughter. Blaine looked at Luke, asking, "What's so funny?" Luke had no idea but he was quickly growing to love the sound of her laughter. She had the kind of laugh that could have made the worst miser's lips curl.

The front door of the hacienda opened and a little boy bulleted from the opening. He quickly threw himself down the front steps into Emily-Jane's arms. Thankfully she was prepared for him or it could have been a blood bath if he'd fallen and hit his head on those flagstones. 

The kid was about 6 years old with brown hair, cute chubby cheeks and was covered from head to toe in mud. That didn't seem to matter to her though. She grabbed him and smothered him with kisses, causing the boy to giggle uncontrollably. Luke didn't even try to stop the smile that crossed his lips as he watched the interaction between her and the kids. She would make a wonderful mother one day. 

"What did you bring me, Peanut?", the little guy asked.

"Bring you? I brought you me. That's gotta count for something, right?"

"No."

She giggled like a little child herself when he kissed her quickly on the lips. "Well, it's a good thing I stopped and picked up something before I got on the plane then. Can't have you disappointed in me , huh, kid?"

Luke almost said that she was more than enough for him but one glance at the kids gathered round, and he knew that it was not the kind of crowd for a statement like that. Plus she was already turning away toward the new people in the driveway.

The group made their way to the front of the house where a young girl of about 10 and an older gentleman stood. Luke watched at Emily-Jane placed the little boy down, much to his dismay, to pull the girl into her arms. After holding her tightly for several seconds, she released her and turned to the man.

"Pop, I see you made it the last couple of days."

"Pea, you have got to get me out of here. They are driving me damn near insane," he lowered his gruff voice, "and I think she's about to blow."

"Pop, you've been married to Mama for almost 45 years. This wouldn't be the first time she has blown up at you. It definitely will not be the last."

He rolled his eyes. Luke was beginning to see that was a normal expression for this family. "Not your mother. I can handle her in my sleep." He said, waving the idea of her homicidal mother off without any concern. "No, its your sister. She's tighter than a virgin on her wedding night and I'm afraid if one more thing goes wrong, she gonna flip."

Emily-Jane smiled evilly and leaned in to kiss her father's scruffy cheek. "Then you better hope she doesn't find out about the surf lessons. You know how she is when it comes to baby boy over there," she said, jerking her thumb toward Dillon.

Luke watched at the old man blanched. To see this oversized man quaking in his boots over the pint sized queen of hell was surreal, for lack of a better word. She stared at her father with an expression that Luke was quickly beginning to think of as her 'death stare.' She had to power with one look, that one arch of her dark brows to make grown men fall to their knees in fear. The Army really needed to get her on the payroll to utilize that skill. 

"You wouldn't, Pea."

"Uh, yeah, I would. I'm 27 years old. You known me that long and during that time, how many times have I not tattled on someone?"

"Come on Peanut," Dillon broke in right then. "Do it for me, I really want to get these lessons," he battled his lashes at her and Luke could visibly see her melt. 

Note to self, Luke thought, she will do anything for those kids. In that moment, the vision of her swollen with child filled his head. She would be a glow with joy as she gazed up at the man with her. A man who if he looked hard enough at, looked amazingly like himself. But the sight of her filling his arms just looked...right. What was it about this woman who made him wish for things that he'd never once dreamed of fulfilling before? She made him want things he had in fact given up as futile years before.

Most people find their soul mates early in life. Luke hadn't been that lucky and in the last few years, had even given up on finding that certain someone. His life was a hectic one that most sane women didn't want anything to do with. Sure, they liked to bounce with him but having a watch as he left to go do his job was hard. And as much as he would like to say that the job wasn't everything to him, that wasn't true. He was the job. Women had a hard time competing against that. They tend to like being number one in a man's life.

It was the waiting that killed more of the relationships for servicemen. Not being able to see or talk to their loved ones was enough to make even the most sainted person wanted to walk from a relationship.

"Ok what do I have to do," Emily-Jane said with much despair in her voice. 

Dillon yelped and hugged her quickly. She smiled up at him and once again, Luke felt slightly jealous of the interplay between her and her family. He wanted that with her. It was very clear that there was love here. Even when she had been bitching about her sister, Emily-Jane had seemed to care very much for her. Luke had no doubt that to love her, one had to love her family as well. He wanted to be a part of that with her.

"I was thinking maybe you could plan your sister's bachelorette party," Luke heard her father ask her.

"Uh," Dillon started only to choke off when she stepped down hard on his toe.

"I'd love to Daddy," she said, so sweetly that Luke was surprised she could even get the words out with a straight face. He'd only known her for a few hours but even he knew that this was a colossally bad move. It would be funny, but bad, really bad. 

"Great," her dad said. "You're mother had the stipulations. You have to sign them before the end of the evening."

Luke laughed as he watched her face fall. She stuck out her bottom lip out and just like a switched had been flipped, his cock sprang to attention. He could see her on her knees in front of him, begging him to cover her tits with his cum. He, being like every other poor sod before him, couldn't deny her when she asked so prettily.

He would tap his cock lightly against her bottom lip, before running it lightly down her neck to point it directly at those massive tits of hers. And like the good trained slut that she was, she'd beg him to cover her tits with his cum until he did just that.

"Luke?" Her voice broke into his thoughts. The sound of his name emerging from that sexy southern mouth made him groan lightly.

"Yeah?"

"Are you ok?" She was gazing at him as if he had grown two heads. Which if the bulge in his pants was any indication, he had.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" He wanted to pull her to him and kiss her. He wanted to grind his mouth against hers, slam his tongue deep into her mouth just seconds before slamming his cock deep into her cunt. 

"Well, mainly because you've been staring into space for a good 5 minutes and you didn't even move when we all started to move into the house."

"Oh. Well I was thinking about someone," and all the things that I'm going to do to her when I get her alone, he thought. 

Emily-Jane looked at him once more before turning to the door. "She must be very special for you to be thinking about her that hard."

"She is," he said softly as he watched her big ass sway as he followed her into the house. "Without a doubt she is."

Luke soon found out that once again luck was on his side. He had been given the room directly across from Emily-Jane, AND they were sharing a bathroom. While he put his clothes away all he could think of was the two of them sharing a shower. 

The water would be hot and the steam would make it hard for them to see each other. However, their hands would be mapping the terrain for them. He would watch as a bead of water made its way down her neck over the swell of her breast to hang for a minute on her hard nipple. He would grab the soap and lather her beautiful tits, gently pinching nipples as he whispered in her ear that he wanted to fuck her so hard. She would moan and plead with him to pull harder on her nipples. He would increase the pressure until her head fell back against the shower wall and she screamed.




Sweet Surrender



"Damn," Luke said. He really had to do something or else he was going to go crazy. To be this caught up in a woman he had just met was scarier than staring a suicide bomber strapped with 40lbs of C4 in the face. He had to see her but the thought of her not feeling the same way left him feeling like he'd been tipped head over tea kettle. He had to find out if she was even marginally attracted to him. Luke could deal with the emotional bullshit later but if she didn't feel the same pulse-pounding attraction then he didn't know what he was going to do. Convince her, a voice in his mind whispered, use those good looks and make her want you.

Without realizing it, his feet started toward the door. With a plan formulating in his mind, he couldn't wait another moment until he saw her again. He had to know. NOW, not later. He stalked out his bedroom door and over to hers. He raised his hand and banged hard on the door. He tried to calm himself but the thought that she may not want him kept running through his head. His heart was beating a mile a minute by this time and when she didn't open the door after his first knock, he tried again. And again. And again, before FINALLY hearing her say, 'fuck' followed closely by a few other expletives.

She finally jerked open the door and the sight that greeted him was breathtaking. Her hair was pined into a nest at the top of her head. There were a few ropes that had escaped the confine, thumbing around her face. They were plastered to the side of her neck and clung to her checks. She was wearing a short terry robe that barely reached her knees. The robe was clinging to her succulent body. Her legs were mind-blowing and she had the cutest toes he had ever seen before in his life. He wasn't someone who was attractive to feet but it seemed that if any body part was attached to her, then he wanted it.

It was obvious she had been in the bathtub as well as was pissed off for being interrupted. "What the fuck, man?", she exploded. "Is the goddamn house on fire or what?"

Luke couldn't speak. He was literally speechless. He could only watch as a bead of water slid down a chord in her neck. He wanted to follow it with his tongue before latching onto the pulse beating madly, marking her for everyone to see.

He had been leaning heavily on her door jam and this afford him a whiff of her. She smelled delicious. Just like fresh picked roses after a rainstorm in summer and that was all it took. As she opened her mouth to ream him a new one again, he jerked her into his arms and slammed his mouth down on hers.

She squeaked and stiffened in his arms. He was so afraid that she was going to make him stop that he pressed her back into the room and shut the door before pressing her back against it. He pressed his body against her as he angled his head for more of her mouth. It wasn't long before she was opening her mouth up to him. The taste of her was heaven. Her lips were just as soft as he knew that they would be and he felt like he could kiss her all day long. He loved the feel of her tits against his chest. He couldn't wait to get her naked so he could feel them pressed against his bare chest. 

Almost afraid to pull his head back from hers in fear that she would tell him to stop, he slid his mouth across her cheek and then slowly down her neck. She had been moaning softly but as soon as he fastened his mouth on to the base of her neck, she stiffened, squealing loudly. He pulled back and looked her in question, not saying anything, letting her make the next move.. 

"Why did you stop like that?" she asked breathlessly. 

"I don't want to do anything you don't want. You know I want to fuck you. If you don't want me to be here, then tell me to get the hell out of here. 'Cause once I get my hands on that pussy, it's mine. I won't be able to stop if you tried to," he said honestly.

"You really want me?"

"Hell, yes. Woman, I told you that on the plane. I want to fuck you. I want to lick you up like whipped cream and then bang you until neither one of us knows our own names. Why is that so hard to believe?"

She frowned up at him. How could she explained her insecurities to a man that she had just met not 7 hours ago. But how could she not? As soon as she'd seen him outside her door, lust unmistakable in his eyes, she'd known that this was going to happen one way or another. She just had to decide if she wanted it to.

"You don't think it's kind of fast to want someone?", she asked.

"No. From the moment you opened your mouth on that plane, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would get you underneath me."

She shivered at his words as an imagine came to her, withering underneath him. She would dig her nails into the chorded muscles of his back as he drove his hard cock deeper and deeper into her weeping pussy. 

Still she wasn't sure. What if he was just looking for a cheap thrill and didn't want anything else? What if she fell for him and then he walked out? She couldn't live with that. So remembering her manta she asked, "Is it 'cause I am available or cause you really want me?"

"You don't think I want you? What the hell was all that just a minute ago if I don't want you? I just had a my tongue almost all the way down your throat. Believe me, that isn't something I tend to do to women if I don't want them. I also don't usually get hard for a woman unless I want to press them up against the nearest flat surface and fuck you hard. If I didn't want you, would I do this?"

Luke grabbed the tie to her rob and pulled hard. She yelp in fear and brought her hands up to block the fall of the robe. He would not be denied however and tore the fabric out of her hands. She tried to cover herself with her hands but he begged her to stop. "Please, don't. You are so beautiful. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to cover yourself with me."

Luke tried to pull his eyes away from her tits but couldn't. They were just like he imagine. Large enough to overflow his hands but not grotesque large. She had a s classic silhouette, her tits billowing out to taper in at her waist before rounding out to a wide hips that he could hold onto as he drove into her from behind. She was light, he thought in comparison to him. The contrast was amazing, he thought as he slid a rope of hair behind her shoulder so he could look at her undeterred. She shivered at his touch. 

"Do you know how gorgeous you are?"

Emily-Jane looked up at him and smirked. "You can stop with all the bullshit. You've got me naked. I'll fuck you. I'm an easy win. You don't have to keep trying to get into my panties. As you can obviously tell, I'm not wearing any." 

She presses herself back against the door posing for him. It was that time he realized something critical. She used the barbs as a defense mechanism whenever she felt threatened. She just had to take back control of the situation. Well she'd learn that wouldn't work with him. He wanted her and that meant he would do anything that he had to to have her. 

Luke sat down on her bed and motioned for her to come to him. She glided closer to him and watching her thighs together was almost more than he could take. The bush between them was a dark brown that already appeared to be gathering wetness. He couldn't wait until he could get him mouth on it. In fact, he wasn't sure where he wanted to start with her. He knew he had to take the edge off both of them but he didn't want to give her a chance to run away from him. He wanted to lock her to him until he agreed to stay on her own free will. Too bad this was her sister's wedding or he would kidnap her until she said she would be his sex slave for always.

She stopped in front of him and fiddled at her waist before letting her hands drop to her side. The insecure little girl was back again. To give her something to do with her hands as well as to see what it looked like, he told her to take her hair down. She reached up and pulled the bobby pins out one by one before throwing them onto the beside table. It tumbled around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. She ran her hands thru it a few times then looked at him from underneath her lashes. Stretched out on the bed as he was with her standing naked in front of him made him think of a pasha with his favorite concubine. For someone so fiery, she was surprisingly submissive in this situation, which Luke had no problem with. He loved being in control in the bedroom. He loved learning a woman's limits and then pushing them beyond them. However, he didn't like woman who were just scared to stand up to him so he decided to test her.

"Turn around baby. Slowly and don't me ask again. I want to see that big ass."

Her eyes flashed and he laughed silently. He knew that she would snap at him and she didn't disappoint him. "Fuck you, Luke. I don't want to do this anymore. You are hot but not that damn hot."

She turned to walk away and he reared up, grabbing her before she passed him. His hand was a manacle around her wrist. She gasped and jerked away her other arm around to slap him. He grabbed that one also, yanking her naked body against his. 

"Where do you think you're going?", he growled against her neck. She shivered at the feel of his breath against her naked skin. Against her will, her body relaxed onto his, recognizing that he wouldn't hurt her. 

"I'm done," she lied. "I don't want you. So you can just leave so I can get back to my shower and we'll forget this ever happened. In fact, I've already forgotten about it."

"Really?" He quirked a dark eyebrow at her.

"Yes really. It's obvious we have nothing in common. There's no attraction there. So please just let me go," she pleaded. She had known that this was a bad idea but when he had come in and kissed her, she hadn't been able to stop and think. Her mind had turned to mush from one kiss. Sure, it had been one hell of a kiss but it was still just one kiss. Plus hadn't she learned anything in her life? Just 'cause a kiss was good didn't mean that the sex would be good. And knowing her luck with guys, Luke Monroe, a walking talking ad for sexual pleasure, would be a gigantic dud in the sack. Better to cut your losses, she thought. Still he was something to look at. With that black hair cut close to his head and bright blue eyes, he looked like a contestant for the Mr. Romance contest. Add his body and you got a package just screamed sex.

"You're not attracted to me?", he asked doubtfully.

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" she said smartly, lying thru her teeth. She would have had to be dead to not want him. She wanted to reach down and kiss the frown away from his brow.

"Then why are your nipples hard as a spikes," he whispered before lowing his head to seize one in his lips. She gasped and lurched into the hot, wet mouth surrounding it. 

He pulled both hands into a grip with one of his hands before settling a hand on her hips. He sucked her nipple, pulling hard before licking it softly. He grasped her ass with his other hand, palming her cheek in time with his sucking.

Emily-Jane couldn't stop her hips from surging forward as he licked her tit. He slid his hand around her thigh into the deep V sheltered there. At the first touch with the tip of his fingers, she groaned loudly.

"Yes!" she said, her body betraying her even as her mind to continue to tell her just how bad an idea that was. At the moment, however, her body didn't seem to care. This was the first hand other than her own to touch her in 2 years, 5 months, and 14 days.. Her body didn't care at the moment that she might end up hurt in the long run. It just wanted the promise of heaven offered now. 

"Yes, what? What do you want me to do you, little girl? Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," he told her before switching to her other neglected breast. "You just have to ask me for it first."

Emily-Jane knew deep within her that he was playing control games with her but at that moment she didn't care. He had begun to lightly tease a fingertip up and down her slit. On the downward stroke he would let just the tip of his fore-finger slide between the lips, making her hip jerk forward.

She begged him please but that wasn't good enough. He released her nipple, blowing lightly on it before switching to the other one to torture it the same way. He tried to pull his hand out of her thighs but she was too fast. She trapped his hand between her thighs which brought his hand almost where she need it but not quite. 

Luke laughed and kissed her neck before lightly biting her jaw. "Emily-Jane, let my hand go before I spank you. I told you what you had to do to get what you wanted. You just have to do it."

He smiled into her eyes and the twinkle in his eyes pushed her past the point of no return. She had to have this man. She might not be able to keep him in the long run but for right now, she would put that out of her mind. 

"I want you to fuck me with your finger. I want you to fuck me until I come screaming in your hand," she said, unable to stop herself.

Luke groaned against her tit. "Good girl! Relax your legs so I can fuck this pretty pussy with my fingers."

At his command, she released his hand from her thighs. He immediately began to run his index finger back and forth against her slit again. "How many fingers can you take, baby? One, two, four? I can't want to find out."

He released her wrist and grasped her hips to pull her closer still. To steady herself she clung to his shoulders, digging her nails in slightly. He nipped at her breast as he felt her nails.

"God, that feels so good. Let me take my shirt off. I want to feel your nails dig into my shoulder and not having anything in the way."

He pulled back slightly, pulling his shirt off as she groaned at all the tanned skin revealed. The army had definitely done his body good, she thought as he pulled her back into his arms. He had a pair of broad shoulders that looked like they could compete against Atlas to hold up the world. He had ropy muscles that narrowed down his arms. She could tell that those were muscles that came from hard, back-breaking work instead that of a gym-rat. To make him even better he had a wash-board stomach. She could just imagine pouring champagne down his chest before leaning in to lick it off. 

"Like what you see,?" he teased.

Emily-Jane pretended to think about it. "I don't know. Do they really work or they just for decoration?"

In response to her dig, he grabbed her waist, lifting her from her feet. He laughed at her squeals as she grasped hold of him to steady herself. Luke brought her onto the bed to kneel above him as he continued to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What do you think?" were his only words before smoothing his hands down her hips to grip her ass.

Emily-Jane had come to rest slightly above the bulge in his jeans. She couldn't believe how hard he was. It lay like a thick snake between them. Her body involuntarily shimmied against it. He would feel so good inside her, she thought. "I think I need to come soon, is what I think," she laughed down at him as she continued to move his finger up and down her slit with her gyrations. 

Luke smiled before forcing his fingers into her hot honey hole. He groaned as he felt how tight she was. Emily-Jane squealed at the sudden intrusion, shuddering against the intense pleasure of being penetrated by his thick fingers.

Luke couldn't believe how fucking tight her pussy felt wrapped around his fingers. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get another finger in without hurting her much less his cock. He didn't like to brag but he was a big man. His cock was proportioned for his body. He had never had anyone complain about his size but he was afraid that if he got going to hard with her, he'd tear her apart. Not a great way to get a woman to come back for more, he thought.

Luke slowly began to pump his finger in and out her cunt. She made the cutest noises, he thought, loving the ohhs and ahhs, she uttered. 

Before long she was so wet it was running down his hand. Luke leaned back on the bed and pulled Emily-Jane closer. "Ride my hand," he whispered to her ear. "I want to see those tits jiggle."

He began to slowly insert another finger. It was slow going but finally he had another finger seated deeply with her. Emily-Jane moaned and began to fuck his fingers in earnest. He grabbed her hips to guide her, fearing she would hurt herself if she went too fast. With every downward thrust he would flick her clit with his thumb.

It wasn't long before a flush had come over her chest and her breathing had grown erratic. She was close to the edge. He tried to pull her back, not wanting the fun to be over too soon, but she would have none of that. She simply fucked his hand faster, forcing his fingers deeper and deeper into her waiting quim.

"Do you want to come, little girl," he asked her. She looked him with an expression that could only be called DUH! He slapped her ass in retaliation. She almost screamed, biting her bottom lip for fear of being overheard. Luke brought his hand up and brushed her lips with his thumb.

"Don't do that. If you have to bite something to keep from screaming, bite me. But you have to ask me to come first. I don't give free comes. You definitely have to be a good girl and ask first."

Emily-Jane gazed at him, lust heavy in her eyes. She knew she should be ashamed of herself. She was naked in front of a man she had just met a few short hours ago. To make matters worse, she was about to come all in his hand. That in itself was strange. She had never had an orgasm with a man in the room. 

"What do you want me to say?" she said, desperation clouding her voice. "I'll say whatever you want me to. Just tell me."

Luke leaned in and kissed her neck to soothe her. "Tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want me to do to you later. Tell me how you want to come."

She looked at her and words just seemed to fly from her lips. "God, it feels so good. Your fingers are so deep inside me, but I still want them deeper. I want you to hold me down, not letting me move and fuck me hard with your cock. I want you to let me come, please, please, let me come."

Luke smiled up at her, before whispering in her ear, "You are such a good little girl. Come for me now. Come all over my hand, little slut."

It was the word slut that sent her over the edge finally. She loved being treated like a slut in her wildest fantasy. Emily-Jane bowed her back while she continued to slam her pussy down on his fingers. Belatedly she figured out that the high-pitch moaning that filled the room was coming from her. To silence herself, she latched onto his right pec.

Luke loved the feel of her little teeth digging into his flesh. She didn't try to be gentle about it either and he knew that he would have her teeth marking his chest in the morning. He didn't give a good goddamn. He would proudly carry her mark for as long as it lasted.

Without giving her time to breathe, he flipped her underneath him. He wanted to press his cock into her just like she said she wanted. He gathered both wrists into his hand and pulled them up above her head. She was too dazed to stop him as he settled into the saddle of her thighs. He humped her cunt a few times, loving the feel of her wet pussy against his jean-covered cock. But soon it wasn't enough and he needed more. She was withering against him, grunting with each of his dry humps but he wanted to hear the sound of his cock slamming into her naked flesh. 

He reached between them to unzip his fly and pull his erect cock from his pants. He jerked from off her to pull his clothes off fast. He pumped his cock a few times to tease them both before returning to the top of her, running it lightly against her slit like he'd done with his finger earlier.

"Is this what you need, slut? Will this make my whore feel good," he growled, swooping down to nip at her gorgeous tits. "You've been teasing me too long, slut. I'm taking what I want."




Sweet Surrender



Emily-Jane groaned in response and jerked her hips to align them. "Yes, fuck me. Give me that hard cock. I'm such a whore for your cock. Fill me up with it. NOW!"

Luke slammed his cock into her in one thrust just seconds before slamming his mouth down on hers. He growled at the wet cave surrounding his cock. It was almost like fucking a virgin, it was so tight. He gave her a second to get use to his invasion before he started a quick hard rhythm.

"You want it hard, slut? Or can you take it," he taunted. He punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust in.

She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. "I can take whatever you give me."

"Is that right?"

"Yessss," she replied as he slid back into her. Well if she wants a pounding, he thought, I'll give her one. He pounded into her weeping pussy over and over, loving how responsive she was to him. No matter how hard and deep he went, the harder she wanted it. He starting biting at her breasts lightly once he figured out how much she liked that.

Soon he was close. She had been begging to come again for a few moments but he had been denying her. He wanted her to come when he did and not before.

"You can come as soon as you tell me whose slut you are, do you understand? You can only come once I hear that you're my slut. So come on, little whore. Whose slut are you?"

"Yours," she screamed, arching into him. The contractions from her tight pussy were all that was needed for him to reach his end. Too late as his come flooded her, he realized that he had not worn a rubber.

Oh, well, I'll just have to marry her so I can do this every damn night, he thought before drifting off to sleep.

After 5 blissful minutes, Luke felt a poke in his side with a sharp finger. He grunted but didn't raise himself off of her. She poked him again and again until finally he sat up. 

"What?'" he grumbled.

"I. Can't. Breathe.," she gasped. He looked at her and she looked none the worst for wear but he still turned over, pulling her back into his arms against his chest. He really loved the way she fit so well into his side, almost as if she had been made especially for him. 

Emily-Jane tried to still her pounding heart but it was difficult. She couldn't believe what she had just done. But more than that, she couldn't believe that she had enjoyed it. She had never had that happen before. And that scared the shit out her. This man had the power to bring her to her knees. He could break her if she let him. So, don't let him, a voice taunted in her head. The more power you give him, the less you'll have when he leaves. And you know he's gonna leave. 

She pulled herself from the warm shelter of his arms and rose from the bed. She grabbed her robe and pulled it on, her back to him the whole time. Luke roused himself from his after-stupor and looked at her in question. With the evening sun silhouetted behind her, she looked just like what she was. A woman who had just received the best sex she or he had ever had. He couldn't even more his lips, so why was it that she could move around, much less stand and look at him with a bored look on her face. 

Suddenly it clicked in his sluggish brain. She was putting up the wall to keep him at arm's length. But just like before, he wasn't about to let her get away with it. She didn't know it yet but she was his and there wasn't anyway that he wasn't keeping her.

"Love 'em and leave 'em type, huh?" he said, propping himself up against the headboard to watch her flint around the room.

She pushed her hair behind her ears and grinned at him quickly. If he wasn't already in tune with her, he wouldn't have noticed the smile didn't reach her eyes. 

"You know it, stud. Got other men to conquer before the day is done," she bragged.

At the image of her with another man, he became livid. "I don't think so, baby." Luke pulled himself to his feet, and without thought to his nakedness, grabbed her. She gasped and jerked away from him. 

"Hey, I don't mind the He-Man woman-hater shit in bed but play time is over. I need to go shower and you need to go back to your room before someone sees you."

"No," he said, and there was a note in his voice that didn't broker an argument. However Emily-Jane wasn't someone that often took No for an answer.

"Yes. I'm tired and I don't think we both need to be here since we're done with each other." She turned from him, jerking her arm from his grasp.

"Believe me, baby, we're not done. Not by a long shot."

"Don't call me that. And I do believe we are done. You shot your load and so did I so it's time to move the fuck on."

He smiled at her and she grew leery. "I think we both know that what just happened is more that a quick hit it and quit it situation."

She snorted and curled her lip at him. "Dude, just 'cause you busted a nut doesn't mean we have to make it more that it is. So while I appreciate the two orgasms, I don't want to marry you."

"And as lovely as the thought of marrying you is, that's not what I'm asking for," he argued with her. He pulled her closer to him, sighing softly as she stiffened in his arms. "I just want to spend time with you. Cuddle with you and just enjoy your company. Is that so hard to do?"

Emily-Jane looked up at him. She searched his face for any sign of deception. She didn't see any but that didn't mean anything. A part of her told her to pull away and continue to prove to him that they didn't have more than the great sex. However, the loudest part said that this man was a good one and didn't his arms feel so nice around her?

She relaxed in his arms but warned him a tight voice. "Are you sure I'm not the one with the cock in this relationship 'cause truthfully you such a girl sometimes. Just be aware that good orgasms do not a relationship make."

Luke grinned. "Even if they are particularly awesome orgasms.?"

She couldn't contain her giggle. "Even then."

Emily-Jane allowed him to pull her back to the bed. He pushed her robe from her shoulders before following her down. He pulled her back into his arms, sighing as she closed her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head as he ran his hand down her arm. She shivered and he pulled the covers up over them. 

"So," he began, "tell me a little bit about yourself. What makes you Emily-Jane Thibodaux?"

"Well the fact that may parents' named me that, for one thing," she laughed when he slapped her hip lightly. "OK, ok. Hmm, let me see. Well, you already know I have normal parents. I have a irritating older sister and two wonderful nephews plus one gorgeous niece who mean the world to me. I guess I could say that's it but I know that not what you want to hear so...you ask the questions and I'll answer them to the fullest extent of my knowledge."

She rubbed her cheek against his chest hair, a small covering of black hair that was wonderfully soft.

"How old are you?"

"27. You?

"38," he watched her face for any clue that was too old for her but she didn't seem to care. She did have a smart ass comment though. 

"Cradle robber. Next?" she lightly traced a vein down the arm that surrounded her waist. 

"Did you go to college?"

"Yep. Majored in finance, graduated with honors about 5 years ago. Been working at the bank since. How about you?"

"Nah, I went straight into the Army out of high school. It's the only job I ever wanted. That is until lately. Lately I've just been ... unfulfilled." Luke couldn't explain it to her, since he wasn't even able to explain his lack of happiness lately to himself. He just hadn't felt complete in a while.

"I understand. I feel that way about my job sometimes. Times are rough and people aren't happy. So it makes it hard to happy in a job where the people you deal with are miserable."

"That's very true. So have you ever been married?" A seemingly innocent question that had a surprising effect on her. She stiffened and tried to pull away from him. He allowed her to push herself into a sitting position. 

"Yeah, I was married once," and following in the footsteps of monotone answered that was all she said. He pushed her hair back from her face to look at her. Something as important as a husband deserved his full undivided attention..

"So?"

"So what? I'm not anymore. I've been single for a year and a half," she muttered, and Like noticed that Emily-Jane was rubbing her right wrist with her thumb.

Luke was really beginning to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. A part of him wanted to forget the whole thing, wanted to tell her that it didn't matter. However, the sensible part said that if there was a problem then he needed to know so he could deal with it.

He grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. He kissed the knuckles before turning her right wrist over to read the words imprinted there. He kissed each phrase in turn before raising his head to meet her watery gaze. Luke leaned in and kissed her desperately, groaning as she pressed herself against his naked front. For a few hot moments the only sounds in the room were their gasps and sighs. As her hand started to glide down his chest, he jerked back quickly.

"No", he gasped his breath coming fast. "You are not going to make me forget what we've been talking about. So get to explaining little girl or I'm gonna spank a certain someone's ass."

It was hard to think straight much less inject a thread of authority into his voice. She was staring at him with liquid eyes that dared to drag him over. 

"Why does it matter?" There was that attitude that he had been hoping for. Smart-ass bitch he could handle, poor little me he just wanted to cuddle with and tell everything would be fine.

Luke paused trying to think of reason other than he just wanted to know, but couldn't think with her naked breast pressed against him. Her nipples had responded to his kiss and were stabbing his side. He reached down and lightly traced the curve of her tit before tweaking her nipple. 

She gasped and arched into his hand, glowering as she did so. Even this early in their relationship, she knew that body was his to use without question.

"Because I want to know. Friends tell each other things, don't they? And aren't we friends?" He asked leaning in to kiss her abused nipple

"Who are you? Dr Phil?" She screamed softly as he grasped her nipple between his teeth. "Ok, ok, Yes, we are friends. I'll tell you, just stop before.... "She cut off as he slid his hand between her thighs. Her pussy was soaking wet. Apparently he could make her wet even when she didn't want to be.

"Before what, slut", he slid a long finger into her pussy and groaned at the wet smooth head surrounding his digit. Even after the orgasm he'd just had meet minutes before, his cock was hard enough to break something. 

"Before I cummm," she moaned, grinding against his hand.

"Oh, but you wouldn't do that until I tell you. And I don't remember telling you that you could come. So stop humping my hand and tell me what I want to know. If you tell me everything, I'll let you cum as many times as my little dirty whore needs to."

Just to see how far he could push herm he added another finger to her sweet snatch. He slammed his other hand down on her clit, causing her to jerk and cry out.

Emily-Jane couldn't believe what was happening. Here she was again responding to this god of a man, almost begging him to use her anyway he wanted. She hadn't been this wanton since she was a teenager. Her body didn't seem to have forgotten what it was suppose to do after so many years of just her hand for stimulation. When he slapped his other hand down on her clit, she thought she was gonna pee herself, it felt so good. She wanted to cum so hard but couldn't. She just couldn't seem to remember why. She moaned, almost sobbing in frustration as she jerked her hips to make his fingers go faster and deeper inside her. 

Luke couldn't stop a smile from his face as Emily-Jane continued to press his finger in and out of her dripping snatch. When he got his answers he was going to put this dirty slut up on her knees and fuck her hard from behind so hard, she would leave a dent in the headboard. He slapped her ass as she tried to get his fingers to the spot she needed most. She seemed to come back to herself and asked him breathlessly. "Please can I cum, I need to so bad. I can't wait. I have to cum."

"No."

"Why?" she whined. 

"You haven't told me why you aren't married anymore. I don't know why you have that tattoo and I want to know. NOW."

She opened her eyes, licking her lips as she looked down his body. She couldn't seem to take her gaze off his hard cock. Not wanted to deny her, he reached down and stroked his cock along with the movement of her hips to his finger. 

"Just fuck me. Let me cum and I'll tell you everything. I can't think right now. I just need to feel that big hard cock inside me first. Then I'll tell you everything."

She leaned up and bit his jugular, scrapping her teeth lightly along the vein there. He could almost feel her mouth wrapped around his cock. Her teeth scraping on the underside of his hard cock just like that as she pulled him faster and faster into her mouth. He almost lost control and flipped her onto her stomach and then up onto her knees. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that she would try to leave again once they finished and then he'd never know what he needed to know. And for some reason, getting an answer on this subject was imperative. He needed to know what had turned this perfect submissive into the fierce warrior in front of him now.

He leaned back, grinning as she sobbed when he pulled his hands from her cunt. He got up and moved to the chair beside the bed. He sat down and stroked his cock hard twice before getting down to business.

"I don't think so. Tell me now."

"Come back to bed", she pleaded. "Don't leave me like this." 

Luke had to physically restrain himself from responding to the plea in her voice. 

"I will. I'm not done playing with you. I just need an answer," he soothed. "When I have it, I'm gonna pull you up to your knees and drive my cock into you so hard, I'll leave an imprint on your ass. Tell me, baby girl, please."

She gnawed her bottom lip before nodding. She pushed back against the headboard, shaking her hair down around her face. She pulled the covers up over her nakedness and while he mourned the loss of all that gorgeous flesh, he knew she was doing it to make herself comfortable. 

She didn't look at him, instead seemed to find a string on the bedding fascinating. "I got married almost as soon as I graduated college. I'd been dating this guy for a while, almost a year and a half before he asked me. I couldn't think of anyway to say no, you know? I mean, he was a good guy. He loved me. My parents liked him and his parents loved me. We had tons of stuff in common. I'd even given him my virginity."

Luke tried to process the words she had just uttered without feeling incredibly jealous. He didn't think he should interrupt her but he just had to know "Did you love him?" he asked quietly.

She smiled sadly. "I thought I did. I really did. And if I got a little nervous as the wedding day grew nearer then I just thought that was normal. Everyone kept saying that was normal, not to worry about it. Well, everyone but my best friend, Cassie. She kept telling me I was making a really bad choice. I just thought..."

She trailed off and he had to prod her to continue. "Just thought what, babe?"

"I thought she was jealous. We've been best friends since second grade. I just thought she didn't want to share me with anyone."

Even knowing she didn't mean it the way he thought she did, he couldn't keep the thought of her kissing, touching a faceless woman while he watched. Instead of filling him with jealousy like the thought of her with another man had, he couldn't feel his cock from jerking. God, to see her licking someone's pussy as he pumped himself into her from behind. He could die a happy man then.

She continued speaking unaware of his thoughts. "I told her that was just what grownups did. They were to college, graduated, then got married and started a family. We had a huge fight and she wouldn't be my maid of honor. Should have taken that as a sign that my marriage was in for it," she smirked, picking at a fuzz ball on the comforter in her lap. 

Emily-Jane shrugged. "Not much to tell about it though. We didn't have as much in common as I first thought. I'm naturally submissive so I tend to let those who want to take my will away from me. Or at least that's what my shrink said. I became a living dead doll. I did what he wanted, when he wanted. He controlled everything from the finances to the remote control when we watched TV together. In his defense though, he didn't know I wanted any of those things. I don't like to argue."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and snorted. She giggled and said, "Well, I don't seem to have a problem with that when I'm near you but normally I don't like confrontation. Never have.

"Anyway life went by and while I wasn't happy all the time, I wasn't happy. We has settled into a rhythm like most couples. We got up, went to work, come home, went to bed and then the next day started."

He interrupted her there. "Did you have a good sexual relationship?'"

She blushed before shaking her head. "No, I'm not very responsive and unless I asked for sex, we didn't have it. And since it tended to be painful, I didn't ask him but maybe once a week."

"Emmie," he groaned, jerking from the chair back to the bed. "Baby, you are so responsive you almost made my head blow off. It wasn't painful with me, was it?" He couldn't stop himself from pulling her into the shelter of his arms.

She kissed his chest, petting him until his grip loosened. "Naw, with you, I had a great time. That was actually the first time I've had an orgasm with a man in the same room, much less inside me. Thanks for that, by the way," she joked.

"No, problem, Anytime," he smoldered at her. She laughed just like he'd hoped she would. He had a feeling she hadn't laughed in a while.

'So anyway, one day I decided I really wanted something. And when I discussed it with Mark, that's his name, Mark said no. Which wasn't that unusual really. He was normally saying no about something or other. What was different was this time I wouldn't just let it go. I kept at it and finally I guess he got tired of my harping and punched in the stomach."

Luke's breath whooshed out as if he'd been the one hit. "He hit you," he growled.

Amazingly, Emmie soothed a hand down his chest to comfort him. She was reliving a terrible moment in her past and she was taking care of him. He leaned in and kissed her almost as he wanted to consume her. God, please don't let this woman get away, he thought.

"It's fine. He only hit me once. I ran into the bedroom and locked myself into the bathroom. He kept banging on the door, saying that he was so sorry and for a second I almost believed him. Then I thought about what my life would be like if I forgave him. What would happen the next time I didn't just drop it like he wanted me to, kept running thru my head. And I knew what he'd do. He'd hit me again and he might not stop at just that one punch. So..." she paused and glanced up at him. "I did this."

Emmie grasped his hand, took his index finger in her fist and smoothed it down her wrist. He didn't notice anything at first, took distracted by the feel of her breast, rubbing against his arm with each pass. After a second though, he felt a slight raised scar above the vein in her wrist. Suddenly it click and he looked at her in horror.

She wicked a smile. "Yeah, most people respond with that same look. For some reason, Mark liked to shave with a straight razor. I'm not sure why. He was a major pudd about most things and didn't like pain too much. But anyway he had just shaved that morning. It was a Sunday," she mused absent-mindly. "We were going to church, I think. Anywoo, I didn't want to deal with that shit anymore and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Later, when my mom found out and cried for hours on end, not so much.




Sweet Surrender



Have you ever had a secret? Have you ever been haunted with thoughts that aroused you, and scared you at the same time? Thoughts of pleasure that made you feel uncomfortable? Have you ever been tortured with thoughts that you wouldn't want to admit to anyone else turned you on? Greg had such a desire. Actually, it was more like a painful secret. One that he could barely acknowledge himself. It was virtually impossible; it was unthinkable for him to contemplate. Real men would never have thoughts like that, not real hardcore brothas like himself. He did everything he could to suppress his thoughts, deny his feelings, and ignore his longings. In real life, Greg projected the opposite of his real desires. He wasn't even aware of when the fantasies first started. Afraid of the implications and ramifications, he did everything possible to create another reality. It was essential for him to manufacture a truth in which his fantasies would not haunt him, a reality in which "she" was not there. 

Greg was your better than average looking, extremely intelligent, mad cool brotha. He was a ladies man for sure but that wasn't his fault. He was 6'2", 220 lbs. of sculpted ebony, baldheaded, and penetrating green eyes. His eyes were obviously some sort of genetic mix up from a recessive slave master gene, but it separated him from the rest. He worked out every day to keep his body together, six-pack, chiseled chest, his shit was tight. He stood out in a crowd, in a word, he was fine. A graduate of Yale Law, Greg was a successful attorney. He was a fraternity member, played ball with the boys on the weekend, upstanding, a really, genuinely nice guy. In his lifetime, he had had more pussy than he knew what to do with. Name a fantasy, Greg had done it . . . twice. Threesomes, group sex, sex any and every place you can imagine, in fact, he had done every wild, nasty, kinky, sweaty, hot sex act humanly possible. Now, his own secret perversions were driving him to distraction. The more he tried to suppress them the more the images and sensations crept into his head. 

She stalked him: his dreams, his thoughts, his fantasies. This vision, his goddess, his perfect woman crept into his thoughts when he least expected her to. She was always there, possessing his perversions, lurking in the recesses of his mind. In fact, it seemed that the more stress he was under at work the more his thoughts drifted to his secret. Sometimes at night, Greg would stay awake as long as possible watching late night ESPN, avoiding the bed at all costs; afraid to go to sleep because he knew she would be there. She was there, behind his eyes as he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, only to torture him with pleasure untold. Even though she was completely a creation of his imagination, he knew everything about her; what she looked like, the way she moved, what she smelled like, her every desire and he also knew how to satisfy them all. He could feel the intensity of her stare and the caress of her touch. It was too bad she was just a fantasy, or maybe that was a good thing. 

Greg needed to get out. He had a case he was litigating and it was a career maker or breaker. If he won this case, it would be what he needed to set the stage for the rest of his career. There were complications with the opposing council and it was starting to look like this was going to end up being a knock down, drag out fight. There were rumors that the litigants on the other side were bringing in some hot shot, heavy hitter attorney that had a reputation for taking no prisoners. It was some mystery lawyer that supposedly had never lost a case and dotted every 'i' and crossed every 't' and left no stone unturned in order to get a favorable judgment. Greg needed to get out to release some of the tension because he was working 20 hours a day trying to prepare for this case that could make or break his career. 

The list of invited guests at the record release party that Friday night read like a who's who in the social registry of hip hop. Everybody who was anybody was there. The label had rented the club for the entire night and Dom P flowed freely. Greg was dressed head to toe in Emporio Armani and he showed up slightly after 11:00. He mixed and mingled with the best of them, one of the perks of dabbling in some entertainment law every now and again. Of course, events like this one drew the most beautiful women, wearing next to nothing, looking to get a record deal, be in a video, or end up hot and sweaty in the back of a Bentley with the rapper du jour. This night was no exception. Fly honeys were everywhere. He would never admit it openly, modesty prevailing, but Greg was always the best looking brotha wherever he went. The ladies this evening were in competition for his attention, and to Greg, they were toys to be played with. 

There was one young lady that stood out. She was wearing a short skirt and didn't really care who saw that she was without panties or thong. Somehow, she had made her way to the VIP section of the club and was flashing shaved pussy and fat ass for anyone who wanted to look to see. Her titties were so big, for a woman her size, they looked fake. The way they jiggled and bounced in her skimpy little top left no doubt in anyone's mind they were real fo' sho'. The fact that she was so breathtakingly beautiful was what set her apart. Perfectly packaged, she could easily be considered in the ranks of Aaliyah, Jennifer, and Janet, minus the refinement. Fellas and ladies alike were intimidated by her looks. All the other females in the club were either openly hating on her or lusting after her. Guys were buying her drinks and flashing cash like there was no tomorrow trying to impress her. All the men in the club were dying to step to her but they were afraid that if they approached her and she laughed at their advances they would never live it down. Greg had no such fear. 

Greg positioned himself directly in front of her. They made eye contact and the stage was set for an evening of intense sexuality. She was sitting on a couch and he was directly in front of her in a chair separated by about 10 feet or more. She opened her legs to reveal her surprise. Even with the dim lights of the club, he could see the reflection of the silver bar that had pieced her clit. People started to gather around and take notice, at first inconspicuously, then more voyeuristically. The chemistry between the two of them was electrifying. Greg kept his distance; he knew how the game was played. The young lady was desperate for his attention; she needed him to want her. She pulled her skirt up to her waist and non-verbally dared anybody else to even come near her. Her gaze was focused completely on Greg. 

He mouthed the words, "Fuck yourself," and she proceeded to do so. She spread the lips of her pussy with her left hand and rubbed her clit with the index finger of her right. She seductively rubbed her pussy up and down, dipping her finger in her hot pussy. Her finger was coated with juices and she made a point of sucking them off like she was sucking a dick. She loved all the attention and the admirers. All the while, not 20 yards away, people were dancing the night away, totally unaware, to the latest joint from DMX. The nameless beauty was forming quite a crowd around her with her performance. People had now formed a circle around them, waiting for more instruction from Greg. Everyone watched in silence as she got more and more into fucking herself, but the effects were taking their toll. Hard dicks were protruding from the latest Sean John, Enyce, and FUBU gear. The ladies were discretely stimulating themselves, afraid that if they were too conspicuous, people would think that they were desperate for attention. If there hadn't been metal detectors searching everyone at the door, you could have cut the tension with a knife. 

Greg was amused. He yielded his natural power over the woman from across the room. With a snap of his fingers, he signaled for someone to move the table that separated him and his new friend out of the way. Immediately, brothas lifted the decorative but substantial coffee table out of the way and where it disappeared to is anyone's guess. By this time, the woman was fingering herself like crazy. She had spread her legs wide and was fucking herself with reckless abandon. She had three fingers thrusting in and out of her pussy and was rubbing on her clit. She reached down and shoved her finger in her ass and the entire crowd gasped for air with her, like they felt the same sensation with her. Greg stood up and took his dick out. He moved closer to her, within a few feet. He started stroking it and everyone there could see the look of desperation in the girl's eyes. She shut her eyes and started ramming her fingers in and out of her ass. She was breathing hard and lost in her own pleasure. 

Greg could tell she was about to cum and he said, "Don't you dare cum. Stop right now. NOW!" She couldn't stop. She was too far-gone. She needed the release. The feeling of ecstasy and pleasure in her ass were not of this world. Greg signaled the two women who were closest to her to grab her hands and make her stop. "Restrain her, don't let her move. Hold her arms." The two women appeared to be in their own trance and followed orders without hesitation. They grabbed her by her wrists and pulled her arms to either side of her. It was too late. That was enough to send her over the edge and the waves of pleasure came crashing down on her. She moaned like a wounded animal. Her body convulsed with rapture. Cum was literally dripping out of her pussy. It took all the strength of the two young ladies to restrain her. She was babbling and screaming, "Fuck me, Fuck me damn it, ride this pussy, use it, stick it in me, now!" Greg had seen this look of desperation so many times before. His eyes were glazed over eyes, panting and heavy breathing, and a suspension of reality really. They were women with the look of need on their faces. She had a need to be pushed further than they had ever been pushed before. 

Sensing the direction things were going, Greg signaled the make shift bodyguards to release their captive. Unsure of what to do next, she simply waited for Greg's next command. "Crawl to me," he said. Like a panther, sleek, Black and sexy, she crawled on her hands and knees to him. He grabbed his dick and held it in her face. The crowd drew in closer, fully aware that any live sex act in the club would not only get somebody arrested, but close the club down and result in mad fines and negative publicity, no matter how much the party promoter had paid to rent the club. Kneeling before him, the woman waited for her next instruction. She felt honored to be at the feet of this mysterious stranger, even though she was quite sure she would never see him after that night. Greg held his dick to her lips. He took the tip between his fingers and squeezed it causing pre-cum to ooze out. "Tongue fuck the slit." With that, the woman stuck her tongue out and began to seductively lick Greg's rock hard dick. She was trying to get the tip of her tongue in his piss hole. The sensation was enough to make Greg's dick throb and jump. He was stroking his dick, milking it, forcing more pre-cum out. 

Up to the challenge, she was licking it up like it was the sweetest honey. She stuck her tongue out and licked Greg all the way from his balls to the head of his dick, even licking his hand as he continued to jerk off for the crowd. Overcome with lust, he grabbed her head, pulled her by her hair, and slid his dick deep in her mouth with one thrust. Her mouth felt like a hot, wet, tight pussy. She was sucking it like a pro. Her tongue was swirling around the shaft as her lips kept up a steady rhythmic sucking. Her spit was all over him, and if you listened closely, you could hear her slurping noises even over the music. She kept her eyes glued on Greg and eagerly awaited his next command. Greg was on the verge. The inside of her mouth felt like hot silk. The cum was boiling up in his nuts, the sack drawing up close to his body. Lights were flashing, the music pumping and he was thrusting in and out of her mouth. She had taken him deep. He was fucking her face. "Yeah, suck my dick, that's right, swallow my joint whole." Greg closed his eyes and concentrated on the beautiful woman sucking, licking, and swallowing his dick. The sensations were incredible. The suction on his dick felt like he would never get head this good again in his life. He grabbed the back of her head and started to pump his dick in and out. 

He opened his eyes to see the reaction of the crowd. He glanced around him, just to see who was watching and . . . "She" caught his eye. She didn't fit in with the rest of the crowd; she emanated an air of sophistication and distance. It was her aura that made Greg feel like he was looking at the woman of his dreams. She was staring through him, watching the entire scene. Greg gasped for air and wanted to scream out to his fantasy woman. As quickly as she was there, she was gone. She disappeared into the club. 

Distracted and positive it was the woman of his dreams, Greg lost all his concentration. The woman before him now meant absolutely nothing. He wanted to run after his mystery woman, call out to her find out who she was. All of his secret fantasies and desires started flooding his mind. The woman sucking his dick no longer aroused him. He grabbed her head and groaned out loud. Everyone watching knew exactly what was happening. Greg and his dick-sucking friend knew differently. Greg faked it. He pretended to cum. Actress that she was, the young lady didn't let on any differently. She couldn't see what had happened, but she had sucked enough dicks to know something was weird, so she just played along. 

Greg grabbed his still hard dick and put it back in his pants. He didn't even wait for her response or to see what was going to happen to the horny crowd. He was off in search of the mystery woman. He looked in every corner of the club. He even went into the employee only areas and the ladies room. He was crazed. He wasn't even sure what he would say to her when he found her. No luck. She was nowhere to be found. Once more around the club, just to make sure, he emerged out into the night, desperate and confused. Had it all been a dream, did he make it all up? Did she really exist? 

Greg was dazed. He began to wonder if he had really seen her at all. Maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. When he really thought about it, he was convinced it was really all blown out of proportion. The woman in his fantasies was his creation; she didn't really exist. He stood in the night air trying to convince himself he was making it all up. He was kicking himself for running out on ole' girl in the club. She would have been an interesting depository for some of his frustration. For a minute, he thought about going back inside, but he knew that she could never satisfy his real appetites. His thoughts were distracted. For an instant he recalled the sensation he felt when the ominous stranger made eye contact with him. It was as if she could see right through him. She was not affected like the rest of the crowd. It was as if she was taking notes, objectively observing. It was more than apparent that she saw through Greg's façade. She saw what no one else could see. Greg shook his head, trying to dissuade himself from such thoughts. He was really losing his mind. There was no way anybody could affect him that was from only thirty seconds of eye contact. He felt pretty sure about it. 

He realized that he had been standing outside in the warm night air for about 30 minutes, just lost in thoughts and fantasies. The only thing that snapped him back into reality was the insistent need in his pants for release. His dick was pulsating, demanding his attention. He summoned for the valet to get his truck and did his best to keep his erection from showing. Once inside his vehicle, the tinted windows shielded him from the rest of the world, but not his fantasies. She was calling out to him now; he could feel her fingernails down his back, her breath as she whispered nasty things in his ear, her hand wrapped around his dick. He was driving around aimlessly in a daze not knowing where to go. All he wanted was for his thoughts to go away. The high beams in his rear view made him snap back into reality. He realized that he was in the red light district of town. It couldn't hurt to stop off, pick up a magazine or a video before he went home to take some of the pressure off. 

As secure as Greg was with his sexuality, when he sought out release for his secret desires, he was intimidated and scared. He was sure no other brothas on the face of the planet shared his thoughts. He entered the store and looked around, no one was there except him and the tattooed white guy behind the counter. He made his way over to his favorite section of the store. He wanted to just take it all in, stand there and look at all the images. Too bad they were all white people on the boxes, but at that particular point and time, he really didn't give a damn. Greg's dick was still hard, with no signs of going down any time soon. He heard the chimes on the door signal that someone else had entered but he didn't turn around. He was going to pick out a magazine and a flick and be out. Ahhh, decisions, which ones to choose? He had just made his selections when he reached out to pick up his choice. Just then, an arm reached across him and grabbed the exact same video. 

"I always find that true female domination comes from the softest whisper, not physical force. Don't you agree?"

Oh, shit. It was "her." He was frozen. No, it couldn't be. How? What the . . .? The blood rushed to his head and his ears were ringing. His heart was racing. His heart was beating so fast, he felt like he was going to faint. His mouth was dry. There was no way he could form words to speak. 

"I asked you a question. Aren't you going to answer me?", she said. Nope, he wasn't, he couldn't. All he could do was just stare. She was exactly the woman he had dreamt of. At 5'8", around 135 lbs, She was a size 4, no, maybe a 6. Her skin was the most perfect color of mocha, flawless and it looked so smooth, like a baby's. Her naturally curly hair was pulled up and secured in a severe, dramatic style, but he could tell that the second she let it down, it would go back to Africa, in it's most beautiful state. She was dressed in a sexy black suit, probably Calvin Klein; it was severe and sophisticated. Her hosiery shimmered off of her perfectly sculpted calves, making him think that they were silk; he imagined that she picked up in Paris on her last trip abroad. Her shoes were definitely Italian. The black leather of her pumps framed her perfect size 7 foot like it was a work of art. Her most striking feature was her eyes, jet-black and mysterious. They were so deep, so mesmerizing, Greg was jealous and captivated at the same time. He looked into those eyes and found his true home. 

"Greg, are you going to answer me?" 

He was snapped back into reality. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"I know quite a bit about you Greg. It wasn't too hard to find out. You have quite the reputation. I would suggest in the future, that if you want to remain anonymous, that you not have women suck your dick in the middle of a very public club. I guess you aren't going to answer my question. Oh well, have a nice night."

"No, wait," the words came tumbling out; there was a panic in his voice. "Uhmmm, yes."

She looked at him with disgusted on her face. She didn't have to say anything. Greg lowered his eyes and addressed her again. "Yes, I think that the true female dominant can control with just her will, manipulation if you must, not force." Greg was rather pleased with himself, considering all the blood was not flowing to his brain, but rather his head. 




Sweet Surrender



She put her delicate hand on his arm and leaned close. He could feel her breast gently pressed against him. He lips were near his ear. "How do you suppose you should address me when you speak to me Gregory?"

There was no fucking way this was happening. No way in hell. Greg managed to squeak out something about not being sure, about now knowing too much about this sort of thing, not knowing her name. "Too bad Greg I thought you had promise." With that, she turned and started to walk away. He couldn't let her walk out of his life again. 

He was sure it was "her." He yelled out to her again, "No, please wait. Tell me what I should call you. I don't know." The guy behind the counter was hanging on every word. He had put his magazine down and had moved closer to hear every word that was exchanged between the two late night customers. None of that mattered to Greg right then. She didn't turn back. She put her hand on the door and pushed it open, the chimes ringing in his ears. He ran after her and out into the night, into the dark and desolate parking lot. She was putting her key into her car door when he called out to her again, "Wait . . . Please don't leave . . .Mistress." 

He stopped dead in his tracks, waiting for some form of acknowledgement from her. She turned and stood in silence. He walked over to her; his eyes were on the ground. "Good boy, I'm proud of you." She reached out and put her hand in his pants pocket. His erection was more than obvious as she got his keys and said, " Come on, let's go." She walked over to his truck and got in on the driver's side. Nobody had ever driven Greg's truck before, except an occasional valet. Greg quickly got in on the passenger side and sat in awe as the woman adjusted the seat and mirrors to suit her. Just then, her cell phone rang. " . . . This is Chantal, no . . . I'll be in in the morning." She turned her head and examined Greg's demeanor and expression. "I need to get a lot of work done so I'll probably be there the entire day. Have all the files that I requested and be prepared to pull an all nighter. I don't really care that it's a Saturday. Be there tomorrow at 8 am and be ready with the things I asked for."

How incredible could this woman be? She was a woman in control and that made Greg's dick leak precum like a faucet. They were off. It only took a few minutes to figure out that she was driving to Greg's home. "Wait, how do you know where I live?" 

She didn't even bother to respond. Greg had never even been on the passenger side of his own truck. The view was intoxicating. Here was this magnificent woman controlling him, and he wasn't even sure how it had happened so fast. He was unsure of what to do with his hands. He was nervous and fidgety. "Caress my thighs Gregory."

"Yes Mistress." He wanted, no needed, to say it now. He placed his hand on her knee and electricity shot through his body. The muscles in her thighs were tensed. He gently caressed her leg, scared to move up too high and risk offending her. He was drunk with lust. This was the most exquisite sensation he had ever had in his life. For a brief, second he got lost in thoughts of why he so desperately needed to be controlled by a strong Black woman. This was not the time for such reflections. Right now, all he could think about was the unbelievably stunning woman who was capable of controlling his every move. He was caressing her leg softly, getting more and more comfortable with that fact when his hand encountered skin. He realized that she was wearing stockings. "Mmmmm." He whimpered like a baby. Chantal laughed out loud. Surely, Greg had seen dozens of women in stockings before, but this had affected him in the most intense way. They were in his carport before he knew it. All the details of how they got inside his condo were a blur. All Greg knew was that he was in his bedroom with this magnificent woman and she was undressing in front of him like this was her home. 

She unbuttoned her suit jacket and revealed the most magnificent set of 36 C's known to man. They weren't too big, not too small, they were just right. They were beautifully encased in the most expensive black La Perla bra ever made. Her nipples were works of art poking through the lace. They were perfect peaks of sensuality to cap off those smooth, brown tits. Her stomach muscles showed evidence of many a personally trained workout. She turned around an unzipped the back of her skirt and slipped it down her legs. The matching panties were French cut, so much more sophisticated than the all too popular thong. Of course, a garter belt held up her stockings. Her ass defied words. OK, if one were to try to describe it, they would probably use the words soft, round, high, big, simply a beautiful representation of Black femininity. 

She moved about the room comfortably. Emerging from the walk in closet, she held several belts and ties. Her taste was exquisite; they were the most expensive imports from his collection. She arranged them at the foot of the bed. "It's showtime little boy." It sounded comical coming from a woman of her stature compared to Greg's size. He had a look of confusion in his eyes. He was watching all of this transpire as if it was a movie happening in his own bedroom. 

"Undress." Her command was simple and to the point. Completely aware that there was a strange woman giving him orders filled Greg with pleasure. Chantal could tell the thoughts running through his mind. It aroused her to see him so confused, so stimulated. She imagined that if she desired, she could make him cum with a simple voice command. Greg had only dreamt of giving up control before. All of his sexual life, he was the predator. A few months earlier, he had begun to fantasize about what it would be like to give up control. To be used if you will. He didn't even want to think about why these thoughts thrilled him so. He did know they were extreme. He wondered if this woman would truly have the power to take him there. Chantal taunted him. "Would you like it if I humiliated you like you did that young lady at the club?"

Perhaps out of habit, more out of fear, quietly he whispered, "No."

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you correctly. Do you think I'm here to play games with you? If you don't want me here, I can leave. I don't need you, need I remind you? You created me. I am your fantasy, not the other way around." Greg panicked. There was no turning back now. If he let this opportunity slip through his fingers, he would never forgive himself. 

"Yes Mistress, I need you to use me. I crave your domination and control." He was reminded of his command to undress. His hands were trembling. The buttons on his shirt seemed outrageously small. He took off his shirt and stood there motionless and speechless. Chantal walked around him, admiring his smooth brown chest, strong arms, and broad shoulders. She picked up one of the belts, folded it in half, and gently touched it to his lips. She leaned close; her body heat seemed to scorch his skin. She whispered in his ear, "I said, undress." 

He felt awkward but he knelt down to take off his shoes, then undid his belt and kicked them to the side. He had never been more proud of his body at that moment. All of his hard work had paid off because his Mistress looked pleased. He reached into his boxer briefs and grabbed his shaft. It had never felt thicker. He couldn't resist stroking it just a little before he hauled it out. He finished getting undressed and stood there before his Mistress, erect in more ways than one. 

She walked around him, examined him from every angle. She caressed his chest and arms, ran her hand over his stomach, pressed her body against his back. She walked over to the dragging the belt behind her. Greg stared at her ass in awe and disbelief. She sat on the dresser and spread her legs wide. 

"Crawl to me."

It took a minute for Greg's brain to register what she had said. He wasn't even thinking as he put his right foot out. "I SAID CRAWL. You do understand what that means, don't you?"

This was it, the deciding moment. Greg had to decide if he wanted all of his fantasies to come true at that very instant. Could he really give over his power to a woman, be controlled, dominated by her. This was unreal. Chantal took the belt and flicked it against the dresser with force. "Crawl Now!" It seemed like a million miles between him and this powerful Nubian queen, no Goddess. Again, Greg didn't know what to do. Chantal spread her legs even wider and slid her finger inside her panties. She was rubbing her clit and Greg could tell, but he wanted to see, up close and personal. 

This time, it was only a whisper. He wasn't even sure he heard her correctly. "Come here little boy, come to Mommy." In the perfect act of submission, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled towards her. Kneeling before her like that was an indescribable sensation. Chantal took her pump and placed it squarely on his shoulder. Never taking her finger off of her clit or her other hand off of the belt, she got into pleasuring herself. Her heel was digging into Greg's flesh but he was sure the sensation pleasurable. He could smell pussy in the air, sweet, sexy pussy. His mouth was watering. She was keenly aware of his position and her control over him so she just leaned her head back against the mirror and rubbed the sensitive spot between her legs with passion. He was whimpering and his neck was strained upward because she was positioned higher than eye level at that particular moment. She took her fingers and slid her panties to the side. Beautiful was not the word to describe her pussy. Rather than being shaved, it seemed her baby soft hair naturally tapered to her mound. Her outer lips were soft and fat but they closed perfectly to hide her deepest recesses. Her inner flesh was the most glorious pink and he could tell how wet she was from the way it shined. Her clit was the size of the very tip of his pinky, the perfect bundle of nerves just waiting to be sucked. It peaked out from under its hood and called to him. Greg swallowed hard. His knees were hurting, his shoulder was in pain, his neck was cramped and his dick, there weren't even words to describe it. 

"Greg, you want to lick my pussy don't' you? You need my pussy don't you?" He had waited his entire life to be subjected to such treatment. In his mind, he was going over how many times he had been the controller. Now he was being controlled. 

"Please mistress, I need nothing more than to taste your sweet treasure." He wasn't even sure those words were coming out of his mouth. With the flick of her fingers, Chantal unhooked the straps of her garter belt. She looked down on him with pride. He was going to become the best submissive she had ever possessed. She could see it in his eyes. He had fire and strength but he was willing to please at any cost. 

"Remove my stockings with you mouth. And be very careful not to run them." The rush of adrenaline was out of this world. Chantal took the belt, placed it along the spine of his back, and slowly pulled it towards her. Her touch was so excruciatingly light it was painful. Greg swallowed hard. He was careful to use only his lips, not his teeth, lest he ruin the delicate nylons. She dug her heel in deeper to his shoulder. He couldn't resist using his tongue to caress the smooth flesh of her legs. Laughing at him, she kicked her heels off and helped him take her stocking the rest of the way off. She placed her perfectly pedicured soft toes on his lips and teased him. Instinctively, he began to lick them. Impossible, how could her toes taste so sweet? He was using his tongue and lips all over her foot. Chantal was caught up in her own rapture. "Mmmmm, Greg, did I tell you that you had permission to pleasure my feet that way?"

Greg panicked. He knew the unspoken code, even if he had only experienced it in his mind before. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. All I wanted to do was to give you pleasure."

"You understand that I'm going to have to punish you, don't you Greg," she whispered. His dick got harder than before, which he didn't think was possible. Chantal went into a little speech about pleasure and pain, but it was strictly for her amusement at that point. Greg couldn't hear a word. He was off in his own world. She signaled for him to follow her. She made him get on the bed in a kneeling position. "You have been a bad boy Greg, I am going to have to spank you, and you understand that I don't want to, but I have to." All he could do was nod but she accepted that as sufficient because she was so aroused herself at that point. There was nothing more Chantal loved than seeing the dominant become the submissive. It gave her such a rush. 

WHAP! The first blow came without warning. The sting spread throughout his entire body. There was no doubt that he experienced the feeling as pleasure but he cried out in pain. "More, please mistress, more." He didn't want to think about what any of it meant. All he knew right then was that he had never felt safer, or sexier. He didn't have to be in control and that felt good. It felt damn good. To know that this woman could take him where he'd only ever dreamed was beyond his wildest fantasies. Whap! Whap! Whap! The heat spread across his ass. She was steadily reining down blows on him and he was overflowing with emotion. Whap, more pain, Whap, pleasure, Whap, ecstasy. Before he knew what hit him, Greg screamed out, "I'm cumming." His cum came spurting out. Never in his life had he ever cum without direct stimulation to his dick. 

Chantal moved to take advantage of the situation quickly. She turned him over and secured his arms to his four-poster bed with his ties. Facing the head of the bed, she climbed on top of him and placed her pussy just inches from his mouth. He could see it, smell it, he could virtually taste it. What he couldn't do was touch it. His arms were tied so securely, he started to panic. What if she was crazy, out to hurt him seriously, rob him? What if . . . He was distracted by her lowering her pussy down onto his mouth. As much as his mind was racing, he could only concentrate on one task at that particular moment. Slick, that was the sensation he felt, her lips parted, and he gained access to her sweet treasure. It was so slippery, and sweet, and earthy. Heaven. She obviously knew what she wanted him to do because she worked his mouth like a fine tuned instrument. She moved back and forth, up and down, riding his tongue, lips, and mouth like a champion rodeo rider. 

Greg did everything he could to work his mouth and make his lady cum. He nibbled on her fat lips, licked her slit, tongued her hole, and sucked her clit. He was not going to stop until she filled his mouth with nectar from the heavens. She was pulling on her nipples and getting all worked up. Her moaning became louder and louder, her hips were grinding away. "Greg, do you like being used?" All he could do was moan and lick and suck that much more. His arms were aching, his jaw was tired. He had no choice. He pointed his tongue and tried to fuck her mercilessly with it. Rhythmically, she bounced up and down. Greg's face was wet with her desire. She coated his lips and face with her sweet sauce. She was teasing him. She rubbed her clit and moved her pussy to within inches of his mouth. Fuck, if he could only move his arms, grab her hips, and pull her to his hungry mouth. Unconsciously, Greg was thrusting his hips, begging for her to please put her pussy back on his mouth. "Please, may I have more!"? 

"No baby," she cooed, "It's time for the ride of your life." Chantal climbed off of Greg, heated as she was and desperate to cum her damn self. She walked to the foot of the bed and grabbed another belt. Greg's dick jumped, remembering the indescribable pleasure he had experienced just a short while before with that accessory of pain. Chantal surveyed her prize. Here was this fine specimen of Black man, fine beyond description, lying helplessly tied to his own bed. He had 8 inches of fat meat sticking up proudly from his body, betraying his true feelings. She grabbed another tie and secured it around his eyes. He begged her to let him see. All he wanted to do was see. Silently she just walked around the bed, examining her "victim." She ran her fingers over his nipples and pulled and twisted on them. His body twisted and contorted to the pain. She took the belt and lightly rubbed the leather over the fronts of his thighs and across his hips. "Are you scared Greg?" She asked that as she gently rubbed the belt over his dick and balls. Words were stuck in his throat. She climbed on the bed and started using her tongue to tease her little boy. He didn't know where the sensations were coming from, or where the next one was going to land. She licked his lips, reminding him of the intense pleasure he had experienced just minutes before. She ran her tongue down his neck, across his shoulder blades. She sucked and bit his nipples. Greg couldn't take any more.

"Please mistress, Please, fuck me. Just fuck me. Use me to make yourself cum. Please." This was it, the defining moment of truth for Greg. He was helpless and he loved it. He had no control, over his body or his reactions. At that moment, the words came pouring out of his mouth. "This was not supposed to happen to me, yet you have done it. My fear at this moment is, what happens if I submerge myself completely and never return? I've gone to a place where I feel this restriction has become my freedom and where I gain so much pleasure from satisfying the very person who has claimed me. It is no longer about the satisfaction of my pleasure but I have begun to enjoy the sensations that cause your pleasure. The torments I feel are now delicious. I truly loved what I used to do, but will I love this more. That is what scares me. I know how arousing desperation feels, I know how utterly tempting complete and total submission is from both sides of the coin. This . . . there truly is nothing like it. I don't want to lose this anytime soon. Please mistress, you have my control, I pray you use it wisely." 

This time, Chantal was frozen. She had been moved by his reflections. Never before had a man touched her so deeply. Pleasure belonged to Chantal to do with what she pleased. Greg's arms were fatigued and tired from pulling against the restraints. Surely if she let him go, he would flip her over and ram his dick up in her so hard she would scream. Greg was paralyzed; he couldn't move. The sensation of being restrained was almost too arousing. Chantal straddled his body, placed her hot pussy inches above his dick. She placed her delicate hand around the base of his dick. He wanted to see but he had no say in the matter. All he could do was wait. Enjoying her power immensely, Chantal rubbed the head of his dick back and forth on her slit. The heat was intense and Greg cried out in anguish. She used it to masturbate herself; really, the vision of him squirming around was more arousing than anything else. She reached back and played with his balls, rolling them around between her soft fingers. Without warning, she slammed her pussy down on Greg's dick and they both moaned in sweet agony. 

Greg felt like his dick was wrapped in the hottest, wettest, tightest piece of heaven he had ever felt. Chantal knew that she had met her match. His dick penetrated her like none she had ever had before. They fit. They fit perfectly as a matter of fact. It was a dance of lover where they worked out a perfect rhythm. She started bouncing up and down; he began thrusting into her, trying to throw her off. She held on and his dick hit every hot spot she had. She leaned close to him and started pinching his nipples and grinding her pussy all over his dick, just using her muscles to squeeze and work his dick. She was masterful in her control. Just when she thought that Greg could handle more stimulation she started fucking him again. His breathing was out of control. He felt light headed. His nuts were aching from his dick being hard so long, but he had never felt so much pleasure. Harder, Faster, stronger, there was no holding back now. Up and down she rode him. Her face was hot, and her body was covered with sweat. She was going to time it just right. "OK, motherfucker, tell me now, whose . . . dick . . . is . . . this . . .?" 




Sweet Surrender



At that moment, he knew how the woman in the club felt. "Oh fuck, Arghhh." Neither one of them could take it anymore. Pleasure, pure, sweet, unadulterated pleasure washed over them at the same time. The boiling cum shot so hard up out of Greg's dick; Chantal felt every single drop coat her insides. She squirted. Her cum flowed out of her body, coating Greg all over his thighs. He shook out of control. Before he drifted out of consciousness, she untied his arms, and he cradled her to him, wrapped in the essence of one another, completely.

The morning sun shone through the window and warmed Greg's skin as he began to wake up. His arms were sore, his dick was still hard, and his ass was tender. He knew she wouldn't be there when he opened his eyes, so he just lay there, trying to put it all in perspective. He had really been dominated, and it was all he had hoped to experience. He knew at that very moment that he wanted to go further. He got up and looked around for the note that he knew would be there. Sure enough, taped to the bathroom mirror was a business card. Chantal Moore, Esq. Attorney at Law. He flipped the card over and it simply said: 

Counselor, 

In the courtroom, we shall be equals. In the bedroom, you will be my possession. Either way, prepare to battle.



Sweet Surrender



It's a lazy Saturday morning and J and V are relaxing on the couch at his place watching movies. She changes positions often, frequently bringing her head down to lay upon his lap. Each time she does, not more than a few minutes passes before she begins to feel her pussy start to tingle from the sheer nearness of him and feels compelled to draw down the band of his pants to play with his cock. Running her tongue from the base to the tip she then sucks him to hardness, covering his perfect cock with her small mouth. When she's done he teases her back, deliciously pinching and biting her nipples or reaching down to bang her moist pussy. Their teasing moves back and forth like this for a couple of hours until her pussy begins to throb from frustration and desire. As he starts to move four fingers deep into her vagina he leans over and says the words she is growing to love: "I want to fuck you in the ass."

At first she pretends as though she may not let him but then he begins to finger her asshole. First just one finger, but then slowly he works his way up. This is the game they like to play with their lovemaking sometimes. How much will he hurt her? How much will she take? Or ask for? His dark eyes are lit with a sensual curiosity and he watches her reaction as each additional finger moves into place. At three fingers she begins to feel uncomfortable, but as he begins to expertly move them around inside her anus she experiences another feeling as well – pleasure. She leans over and sticks her ass in the air then starts to suck his cock while his fingers pulse in and out of her tight asshole. She is overcome with desire for this man and wants him to fuck her in every possible way. She wants him to own her.

"Make me your dirty ass fucking whore." It's more of a command than a statement that she utters as she stands to remove her clothes. He does the same and then sits back down on the couch. Her nipples turn hard as she takes in his sexy slender body and she can't resist getting down on her knees to suck on his nipples until she feels them turn hard in her mouth. A hard bite pulls a soft cry from him and then a deep moan as she works her way down to tease and suck his cock once more. He picks up a bottle of lube. "Are you my dirty little cocksucking, ass fucking whore?" he asks her. He puts lube onto his finger and begins to play with her ass again. She takes his cock all the way into the back of her throat as she gazes up at him with eyes she hopes say yes. Her pussy is dripping wet and throbbing with anticipation and when she can no longer stand it she takes the lube and begins to rub some up and down his erect penis. It is hot and hard in her little hands. Ready to fuck. 

J kneels on the couch as V stands behind her and then leans down in such a way that she can still reach her hands back to spread her ass cheeks wide. Her ass and pussy are shaved clean so he can see her tight little asshole waiting for him. 

"Make me your bitch," she says. 

As she spreads her asshole wide he begins to move the tip of his cock into her anus. "You can come in," she tells him. And he does. Gently at first and then he moves his cock in with more force. She feels her ass begin to open for him and she willingly takes him all the way in. She grabs a vibrator and begins to play with her pussy as he slides his cock in and out of her ass. The vibration excites them both and his pace begins to quicken; his thrusts growing in intensity. 

"I want to ride your cock with my ass. Will you please let me?" she asks. V is only too happy to oblige this request and skillfully pulls her on top of him as he lays himself upon the couch. Carefully she begins to ease herself back down on to his hard cock. There is no pain - only immense pleasure is felt as she takes him into her and begins to move. Gently gyrating her hips at first but as the enjoyment begins to overtake her she cries she begins to vigorously ride him up and down – his cock sliding in and out her ass for him to see. He reaches his hands out grasp her hips bringing her a whole new level of bliss as her pulls her deeper down on to him. It pleasures her the most to look back behind her and see his face as his cock moves in and out of her ass. Her ass is getting looser and hotter now and suddenly she feels a intense desire for him to fuck her harder than ever before. 

They move so that J is down on her hands and knees as V kneels behind her on the couch. His penis is still hard and thick and he quickly thrusts it so deep into her she feels as though she might split open. She reaches back to grab his balls. "I am your dirty little whore," she cries out. "I'm your ass fucking bitch. You own me."

V rewards her words by dealing a strong spank to her naked ass. She gives him permission to hit her again. To pull her hair. To do anything he wants to her. And he does it all. By now she is so wet and turned on that she feels dizzy. She is crazy for more. Harder. Faster. And he gives it all to her as her head spins away and she comes - her pussy tingling and pulsing, her breath lost in her throat and every cell in her body exploding with bliss. And still he is fucking her - groaning as each thrust goes deeper and deeper into me until with a load moan he comes and her ass is filled with his hot sticky cum. 

They both fall exhausted on to the couch. He owns her. And she loves it.