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#Fiction - in the bedroom - Part Five #Vegas

10/5/2015

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in the bedroom
part five

​            The afternoon ticks and ticks in my mind with slow monotony and I do not have so much as a sentence of writing to show for hours at this desk. The swirling chaos refuses to resolve into recognizable thoughts and I tap my fingernails on my laptop as if hoping my constant staring at a blank screen will bring inspiration. Sighing, I search YouTube for music that might spark my inner muse. 

            "Why don't you take a break? Perhaps I can give you something to write about?" Charles says. 

            He hovers over me, brushing against my hair and placing hands on my shoulders. With a sigh, I light a cigarette and continue scrolling through music in search of the right song for my story. 

            "You've done that to me today, twice. Can you please give me a break? I'm sore and not in the mood. I have to get some fucking work done," I say, turning my head enough to see his hard cock bobbing and waving at me. 

            "I promise it will be quick." 

            With a sigh, I shut the laptop and close my eyes. Rubbing my temples, I attempt to clear my mind of everything not pertaining to my story. "Sounds like a great time, Charles. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl." 

            Pushing myself out of the chair, I slip my feet into heels and crush the cigarette into the ashtray. I grab the robe from the stand nearby and put it over my shoulders to stop Charles from gawking at my naked body.

            "You know what I mean..." he begins.

            "Do I? You pester me constantly, but it's always a short bit of thrust thrust." His face colors red, eyes finding the wall. "Shall I continue my critique or have you heard enough?" 

            "I..." he stammers, trying to face me. Lifting his shoulders and coughing to clear his throat, Charles smiles at me. His gaze falls on the copy of A Bedtime Story on my desk before making eye contact with me again. "I want you to get on your knees..." 

            I burst into laughter before he can finish speaking the demand. Did he read the book and think he should try to dominate me? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. Go on, let me hear it all. Seems as if you practiced this and I don't want to ruin your moment." 

            His hands ball into fists and it takes him a moment to shake the blush of shame from his cheeks. "Take off that robe, you are not to wear clothes, only heels. Then you will get on your knees and pleasure me."

            Fighting the urge to laugh, I smile and take a moment to compose myself. "Spoken like a true man, sir."

            Throwing my robe on the bed, I stand in front of him naked, letting him inspect my body. Eyes touch and caress my flesh in slow motion, he does not hurry in examining every inch of my skin. 

            "Kneel." 

            "Close your eyes, sir," I whisper. He grunts with displeasure, but does as I request. Putting my hands inside his thighs I push his legs apart a few  inches. "You won't soon forget this moment."

            His smile widens into a grin and I again fight the urge to laugh. Lifting my leg behind me, I swing my foot and connect flush with his testicles. The top of my foot smacking against his balls reverberates throughout the room and a high pitched squeal escapes his lips while he crumples in a heap.

            "You do not give orders to me." I scream each word while he writhes in pain cupping his balls with both hands. "Get up." 

            Crawling on his knees and grabbing at my desk to steady himself, I laugh when he pauses for breath, legs open and waiting. Without a moment of hesitation I lash my foot out, making perfect contact once again and crushing his balls into his body. He flips onto his back and eyes roll into his skull, groans escaping his lips. Trying and failing to cover himself with his hands, I stomp my right heel and grind his testicles into the floor. 

            I hear the door swing open and stop, for I know I did not leave the door unlocked. Ray enters in a rush and I wonder if it's something urgent. Looking over the scene in front of him, I see a smile appear on his face. 

            "George thought the boy might be in some trouble. I guess he just needs an ice-pack." 

            "The silly boy tried to get dominant with me." 

​            Reaching into his pocket, Ray finds a cigar and clips the end before lighting it. "Let's be sure he doesn't forget his lesson."  
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(#fiction) - in the bedroom - Part Four #Vegas

10/2/2015

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(fiction)
in the bedroom
part four

​            Father obsessed about my routine and forced me to brush my hair for what felt like hours a day. In his mind if my hair didn't shine I was disobeying him. Those days he thought me to be difficult or cross with him were nightmares without end. I'd pray for him to ingest enough alcohol to pass out or fall and break his neck. How many times I got on my knees and looked to the heavens pleading for intervention. 

​            It never happened. To all those that believe in god, lowercase g, where was he/she/it when my father tormented me deep into the hours of night. Father and his demands, desires, and weakness for booze with no god to stop him. It just went on and on until...

            Fingernails grip into my breasts and I yelp with surprise and pain. Staccato grunts in my ears, Charles twitches against my body and I growl while he spasms. Waking from nightmares of father to this boy's constant want of me will ruin my day, I can feel it now.

            I wait for his manic grip to ease before extricating myself from his arms. Grabbing the cigarettes from the night stand, I light one and swing my legs onto the floor. 

            "Are you trying to get me pregnant?" 

            Taking a deep drag to settle my nerves, I press my thumb to activate my phone and scroll through the missed calls, text messages, and emails. 

            "You said I could..." he begins. 

            "One time, the first time. If you get me pregnant my husband will hang you. I'm not joking."

            I offer him a cigarette and watch him jump from the bed, taking puffs and pacing on the plush area carpet. 

            "He said he was okay with us, with everything..."

            "Ray also threw his father down the stairs, best be careful how much you rely on your judgment of him. You know nothing, young man." 

            Crushing my cigarette in the ashtray, I get out of bed and enter the bathroom. I spin the shower nozzle to start the water and press my face against the porcelain, letting the heat steam the hangover building in my forehead. The glass door closes and Charles places a hand on my shoulder, pulling himself close to me. 

            "I'm sorry." 

            "Just shut up about it, I'm trying to think," I say, shrugging him off me. 

            "We've been together for weeks now..." 

            Spinning, I place my hand on his lips to silence him. Water blurs his features, making him look even younger than his age. It reminds me how much of a boy he is compared to Ray.  

​             "It's been over a month and you haven't learned when to shut your mouth yet." Removing my hand, I close my eyes and face the wall once more. His arms wrap around my waist and I don't stop him. Images of father attempt to rise in my mind and I grit my teeth, trying to banish the apparition. 

            "You were screaming in your sleep." 

            Reaching behind me, I stroke him until stiffness fills my palm. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Please help me forget."
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