She could hear the tremble in his voice. He was touching himself when he asked if she was being a good girl. Of course, she was, well in her own little twisted way. Her breaths deep and with conviction, she assured the man on the phone that her trip was going well and that she had made good friends. What she didn’t mention was the friend she had made sat next to her with his hand rubbing her soft Nubian skin. Was it the fact that he was a stranger, or the fact that his light hand made such a deep contrast against her dark skin? Either way, it was confession time.

Brian loved how comfortable she was on the phone. She didn’t hide her need from the man, nor from him. She would be a filthy addition to his “family”. He watched and listened as she told of her day and meeting the nice stranger at the bar. How he bought her drinks, took her to dinner, and that’s where she left the story. Brian knew what she was doing. She was feeding him just enough to wonder if she allowed herself to be tainted with the touch of another man. Something he loved. Girls who don’t hid their needs have always been the most attractive to him. Maybe it was just the dirty old man side of himself that mad his cock throb in his pants, or could be her seductive words that lured him to erection.

“That was my father. He knew that I wasn’t alone,” she trembled. “He could tell it from the way my voice quivered. I will tell him about all of this, you know,” she smiled, her perfect white teeth catching her bottom lip in a light squeeze.

“Shhh little one. Close your eyes and let yourself explore as you confess. Feed me,” he whispered.

Her breath held so much behind each pant. She wanted to tell him everything, but hesitation kept her words in a little longer. Adinna was scared of being judged, though she knew that he never would. How could he? His guilt ran much deeper than her own.

Licking her lips, she kept her eyes closed as he asked. She wanted to touch herself, write a novel across her flesh. Allowing her to open the book was all she needed. Resting her hand on her knee, Adinna slowly stroked her flesh. The slightest of movements released a faint scent of the coconut lotion she applied liberally before leaving her room. She had soaked her body into a beautiful sheen, not knowing that it was one of his favorites.

“At first I felt dirty, you know. Letting him see me touch, but Daddy turned the lights low and we never raised our voices above a whisper. It seemed filthier that way,” she whispered. “I’m soaking now, I can feel it between my legs,” she added.

“Focus little one. Just allow your fingers to talk to me right now. I already know your words,” Brian whispered.

Pulling in a deep breath, she held it for a moment before allowing herself to breath again. Stroking her hands softly over her inner thighs, one hand on each side painting a picture in braille. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear the soft moans she held back as the very tips of her nails scraped upwards. She wanted to tell him everything, but body was the perfect way to give her confession to the man. As the hem of her dressed inched up, she could hear him adjust himself in his seat. His body was as heightened as hers. She could hear it without even seeing him.

That scent drove him wild. One of his favorites, he would love to lather his cock the same, but not yet. Anticipation is the only drug he fully indulged in.

“Show me,” he said.

She felt his hand on her own. Moving higher over the front of her silk panties, she showed him through the darkness of the room. Moving her fingers for a moment, Adinna allowed him to feel the dew that dripped from her lily. Her panties saturated in the nectar. With her mind spinning, the sensation of her own hand once again sending shockwaves of impending pleasure through her core. She had done this with one other man, and now him.

“There. See what you’ve done little one,” Brian spoke.

Her flesh felt like spun sugar beneath his fingers. Soft, sweet, and decadent to the touch, and he was sure the taste would prove the same. Not yet though. She hadn’t earned his taste yet. That would come when she fed him a little more from her lips.

Nodding in the dark, Adinna knew he didn’t need to hear her confessions. He could feel them for now. Prickles of lust now blanketing her body, the fire flowed through her veins. She wanted him to know everything even if it meant he would label her a whore.

“I was the one he wanted all along. Not her. For years she was just a substitute for him. He never said it, but I knew it. I felt it when he looked at me and her. His eyes hungry for my flesh as he avoided hers all together. I’m sure that’s why she eventually left. She couldn’t play the game any longer. Not when he accidently called my name with her,” Adinna, giggled almost in a smug manner.

She was sure it was hard for the older woman to compete with someone so soft and young. Flesh that held the wonders of the world beneath it, not already soiled with the filth of others. Being first has a special ring to it. Like it’s an honor or even a privilege to show another how powerful they really are. Her body stretched out, she placed his hand on the front of her soaked panties, smiling wickedly with desire.

“Can you imagine how that will taste, feel, and even, smell? Like the cotton candy at the first carnival of the summer. Something so enticing that you will never lick enough off your lips to rid yourself of me,” she whispered.

More to come.

One

Two

Three

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Cat or mouse? The choice is yours. Do you run from the threat of termination, or do you fight for what you have left? Does the Devil make you do things?

I don’t know how I found myself sitting in the bar’s corner. I swore I would never visit again. I met my ex there three years ago and every memory of him should be in a sealed vault, but at 1 am, the nights get lonely. I guess that’s why I made my way to the bar tonight. Some days I wish that a writer’s insomnia would afflict someone other than myself. A full eight hours a sleep would be a godsend. Thankfully for me, this is one of those places that no one speaks to you unless they’ve had too much to drink. Hence, that’s the reason I sat nestled in the room’s corner. Plus, I am a natural people watcher. My editor suggested I pull from an actual life experience. God, the horror I’ve endured could burn the pages in the first chapter alone.

“What are you drinking tonight?” asked the bartender.

He’s one of those men that wear the leisure suits, slick back their hair, and slap on the old spice before leaving home. I might be lonely, but that is a level of desperation that I will never reach.

“Tequila, just bring the bottle, but not that cheap shit. I’m willing to pay for the top shelf brand,” I said.

The bartender looked taken aback by my statement. Maybe he wasn’t used to people willing to pay more. By the looks of the place and the clientele most sucked up the watered down shit and passed out in their seats. At the opposite end of the bar, a man who seemed to be about 90, rested. His head on the counter and his false teeth hanging out of his mouth. It took everything I could not to walk over and shove them back in. The entire time I waited for my drink, the urge was there.

“Top shelf for the lady,” snapped the bartender. He was annoyed at being called out to the cheap alcohol served to regular patrons.

Honestly, I couldn’t help but laugh. Not in his face, of course, but the moment he walked away. Opening the bottle, making sure the seal cracked when I did, I poured a shot into the little glass provided. “Welcome to Canada?” asking, I shrugged. This is Los Angeles, so this little guy was a long way from home. Pouring the clear liquid into the glass, I starred for a moment at the way the fluid settled into a smooth surface. Funny thing was, I waited for a few minutes for it to move. Why? Because in that one Jurassic park movie when the Dinosaur came, the liquid vibrated. Stupid thoughts go through your mind when you’re lost.

A slam on the counter brought me back to the here and now. My liquid quivered, and I drank. One straight shot down the throat and it was gone. Oh, that burn was what I needed more than anything. No pain, no gain, right? Three seats away from me, a male pulled the tattered old stool from under the counter. His other hand still on the bar as he waited for some attention. Another slap to the fake wood surface and the bartender dropped his shoulders and stood in front of the male.

“Whiskey,” he said.

I jumped a little when the man spoke. No, not because of fear, but the way his voice warmed the room. He had one of those radio personality voices. Smooth, deep, and could drive you insane if you let it. Honestly, men like him could look like the back end of a dog and still charm the panties off a nun. Did I dare even look over at the man? Maybe another shot first and then I will take my chances. Pouring another, my hand now wrapped tight around the glass, I didn’t wait to swallow. Down the hatch and the warmth radiated from my toes to my nose. There, that would give me the liquid courage I needed, right? A slow tilt and for the second time tonight I felt the warmth breathing deep into my soul. Have you ever saw someone that you was the Devil, yet you were so drawn that you can’t look away.

“Look away, now,” I screamed inside of my head.

“You like the Princess down there and need the special kind?” grumbled the bartender.

A slight chuckle from the man as he nodded, reaching over and grabbing the bottle on his own. Without wasting time, he twisted the cap off and brought the bottle to his nose to smell.

“It smells like desperation. I don’t drink water, so don’t fuck with me, boy,” snapped the male.

Pulling back the bottle, the man behind the bar slapped it down on the back bar, threatening to shatter the glass. A quick reach below and he brought up an unopened bottle, shoving it forward with force. A shot glass followed before the male walked away.

I kept my eyes on the glass before me, but my ears kept tuned into the male to the side. Shivering when the sound of the stool next to me pulled out, I knew without looking who it was. Did this man think I was some whore because I was in the place close to closing time? Again, I was a little lonely, but not for sex. I needed conversation with someone other than the computer screen. Day after day of sitting at my desk not only numbed my ass, but my social skills as well. I wondered for a minute if he could hear the acceleration in the beat of my heart. I know it was making my head throb the moment he looked in my direction.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” he laughed.

In the midst of a drink, I choked. No, I erupted into a volcano of laughter that forced the alcohol to pour from my nose in a tequila river. Grabbing the napkin, I brought it to my face, knowing that I had to be every shade of red ever created.

“Cat got your tongue?” he added.

It took me a few seconds to compose myself from that episode. Not only was I shocked at the question, but intrigued by the man next to me.

“I needed to clear the cobwebs from my head tonight. As for cat, no. I’m allergic,” slightly snippy.

I still hadn’t fully looked at the man. Maybe the voice was all I really needed tonight. Something to make me feel alive. Eyes forward on the aged mahogany wood, I poured another shot. This time, I waited until I indulged. No need to humiliate myself again. We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but the old clock on the wall claimed that only five minutes had passed. God, what the hell is wrong with me? Has it been so long that I forgot how to communicate with others?

“Thirty minutes until closed. Wrap it up, people,” yelled the bartender.

Exhaling sharply, I brought the glass to my lips, holding it there before speaking. “Have you ever just wanted to watch someone get hit by a fucking bus?” I asked. My dislike for the bartender was growing faster than the ticking hands on the clock.

“I can arrange it, you know?” the man said, his voice matter of fact and directly to the point.

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