Rub Me The Right Way (Erotic Short Story Book 1) Read online

  On a pout I whine, “Why?”

  Klous chuckles and sighs, “You really don't like to give up control, do you?”

  Disappointed with the change of subject I roll my eyes. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know what's best.”

  “Sometimes. But does that mean there's not a possibility that someone else knows better?”

  “Rarely.”

  “You know, there's an unmistakable relief that can come from letting someone else take the reins. Bear the weight. Carry the heavy lifting. To submitting.” Feeling my pussy ache for further touching I prepare to squeeze my thighs together to hold it in when he barks, “Keep. Them. Open.”

  Growling I snap, “If submitting is so fantastic, then why don't you?”

  “I have. And I will.” He declares words that I find compelling. The idea of having the control over him that he so quickly gained over me would be so fucking sexy. “But you first.” I wet my lips and Klous says, “Don't touch yourself again until tomorrow.”

  Displeased by the directions, I snip, “You're fucking kidding.”

  “Do you hear me laughing?”

  My eyes lower to a glare. “I will touch myself whenever I fucking want.”

  “True.” His sudden agreement raises my suspicions. “But if you want me to touch you again. You won't.”

  Unhappy with the position he's put me in I challenge, “And how would you know the difference if I did?”

  “Your body says more than those perfect, pouty lips of yours ever will.”

  My hand twitches but moves away from my aching body part.

  “And they are perfect.”

  Annoyed I gripe, “How'd you get my number?”

  “You think you're the only one with contacts?” Klous cockily replies. “By the way you pronounce my brother's name Lance. Just looks different. My mother liked the traditional name, hated the spelling.”

  Flustered at his knowledge of what I was doing before he called, I yank my skirt down, twirl around, and close the internet windows that are open. Did he hack my system? Can he do that? He shouldn't be able to do that.

  “I'll see you tomorrow evening for your appointment, Miss Anderson.”

  He hangs up and I slam the phone down. What just happened? How did I turn into some sick, pathetic mock of a woman? How does he do that? And why do I feel as if I wanna obey him like some dog dying to get another treat? Better yet, why is the only thing I want for him to throw me is a bone? God I need to get boned...

  Wednesday

  “Don't be ridiculous, Angela. Of course I'll be at your engagement party,” I say more to Hope than my sister who's on the phone.

  She sneers, “It's just a few weeks away. First of next month.”

  “Right. The first. I can make that happen.” Hope nods as she pulls me into the parking lot of Le Mur.

  She mouths. “Already on the calendar.”

  Of course it is because my assistant is secretly Superwoman.

  “And bring a date. It's a couples thing. I don't want my sister the lonely loser in the corner.”

  “A date? Really? Is that necessary?” And did she just call me the lonely loser? I am not a loser. Besides with the way Klous has my body feeling like a fucking cat in heat, I'm not lonely any more. Just feigning. Not sure I like that much more than lonely.

  “Yes.”

  Hope holds up a finger for me to wrap up the conversation. “Fine, Angela. I'll see what I can do. I have to go. I have an appointment.”

  “You always have something. Love you,” she grumbles.

  “Love you too.”

  As soon as I end the call Hope volunteers, “You know I could set you up with one of Harry's friends or colleagues.”

  “We've tried this before, Hope. I scare them.”

  “You scare a lot of people.”

  “People should be less...” the end of the sentence gets lost as my brain liquefies at the idea of what's coming next. It keeps doing that every time I just think of him. Even if it's just for ten seconds. I hate it.

  “Less what?”

  I grab my bag from between my feet. “Less whiny. I don't know. I gotta go though. You know how I hate to be late.”

  “I'll be back to–”

  “It's okay,” my insistence takes her off guard. “I'll grab a taxi home. It's not far from here. Take the afternoon off and go do something special with Harry. You deserve it.”

  “Okay...who are you and what have you done with my pushy, overbearing, unforgiving boss?”

  “She'll be back tomorrow,” I assure on my way out of the car. “As for now, she's going to go relax and enjoy herself.”

  “Seems like I was right about these massages.”

  Oh, she has no idea.

  “Enjoy your evening Hope.”

  With a proud smile, she pulls away. Once inside I hand my bag to the woman behind the counter, without resistance this time, who paints a similar smirk to Hope's on her face. If I wasn't about to have an orgasm or two, I would chew them both out.

  Laura leads me on the same path she did before leaving me at the same room. Inside, I strip out of all my clothing and heels before crawling under the thin sheet that's waiting for me.

  I do my best to calm the nervous excitement in my system. Last night, after a long rest of the day at work, I realized something while enjoying a glass of wine alone at home. It doesn't make me weak to wanna try something new. It doesn't make me weak to put this kind of power in someone else's hands. If anything it makes me stronger. Submitting to someone, willingly letting another person take you to new levels of ecstasy while all you have to do is enjoy the ride...that takes strength. Trust. And how a stranger just walked into my life and got it, is still in the mystery zone.

  “Miss Anderson,” Klous says warmly, the door shutting behind him. “How are you this evening?”

  Innocently lifting my face off the table, giving him a glimpse of my boobs that are pressed on it, I answer, “I'll be better soon enough. How are you?”

  Klous' tongue tastes his own lips at the sight before responding. “I'm doing great. Thank you for asking.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Hm,” he hums and walks past me. “We should get started. I'm sure you have plans.”

  Plans for you. Plans for you to do all the things that were running through my head and I didn't even touch myself. Fuck. I'm wound so tight right now it's going to take everything in me not to shatter the second he touches me.

  The sound of lotion being spread on his hands scrunches my face slightly. I wanted to get right to the part where he touched me like I wanted. Fuck foreplay. Klous runs his hands across my back, firmly kneading my skin, removing the small amount of tension that's managed to come back already. Mostly his fault.

  As the massage begins down my lower back, small moans helplessly start seeping out of me.

  His voice drops to a low volume. “Something you want, Astin?”

  Pretending to be coy, I answer back, “Maybe...”

  “Maybe?” The word is strong as is the pressure he is now applying. Suddenly Klous' voice is beside my ear. “I'm not risking my fucking job again for maybe.”

  In a dire voice I plead, “Yes. Yes, I want something.”

  “Mm,” he hums in my ear, his tongue lightly licking my earlobe. “Good.”

  And just as quickly as his warmth appeared on my body, it disappears. With my pussy now wetter than a fucking tropical storm waiting to hit land, I shut my eyes on a silent prayer that he hasn't changed his mind.

  After a few moments, Klous demands, “Up. On all fours.”

  Doing as he wishes, I assume the position – the sheet falling lifelessly to the floor. To my surprise he's standing in front of me, once again busting out of his white shirt like an over inflated marshmallow.

  “You didn't touch yourself.”

  Annoyed at the fact I didn't I bite. “No.” Swiftly I snap back, “Did you?”

  Impressed by the a
ttitude I'm still packing or least I'm hoping that's what the smile's about, Klous gently takes my hand and places it on his crotch. He's stiff. I mean pitch a tent to last through a tornado stiff. The new knowledge makes me whimper.

  His face lowers to mine, green eyes glowing. In a whisper he says, “What do you think?” I swallow the defiance I was displaying at the same time I drop my hand. “Now, mouth open.”

  The echo of lips smacking reverberates to the point it makes my pussy throb in anticipation. With my mouth wide open waiting for his cock, I try to hide the smirk of happiness from finally getting to taste him.

  Klous' other hand comes from behind his back and a ball gag is revealed. Immediately my eyebrows furrow in disappointment. Before I have a chance to object he wedges the object between my lips, leaning in so close his simple smell hypnotizes my senses as he buckles it. Without another word he walks away, my attention still plastered on him as I try to adjust to the odd feeling of having my mouth pried open. He opens a cabinet, grabs an object, slides it in his pocket, and then grabs another he lets dangle from his grip. Handcuffs. A tingle of uncertainty rushes through me. Look, you don't get to be a big dog in this industry and never have explored these things before, but it's been a very long time. And honestly? Never explored with someone I just fucking met.

  While his eyes stay planted on mine, he lifts the cuffs and demands, “Hands.”

  I wanna object, but the gag makes it difficult. Instead of handing myself over I simply stay still.

  “You're risking your trust.” He hit the nail on the head. “But so am I. It's hard to trust a complete stranger, but I took care of your body once. Have some faith I can do it again.” Suddenly Klous leans down closer. “Even better.” Lifting my hands up for sacrifice, he smirks as he cuffs them. “Thank you.”

  He better relish in this shit. Not sure if I'll be up for giving myself over again any time soon.

  “Now back up to the other edge.” I follow the request while he walks around behind me so my ass will be what meets his dick if he chooses.

  Shutting my eyes, I whimper through the gag at the sound of his pants dropping, the stroking of his dick and the condom wrapper tearing. All sounds are so erotic and delicious I'm not sure I won't come before any of the actual fun starts.

  “Spread that pussy for me, love,” his grumble is met with my instant compliance as I angle my legs wider for optimal overpowering.

  Klous' hands briefly graze my dangling tits before they wrap around my hips. Forcefully thrusting himself inside. Feeling as if I'm being torn in two causes me to cry out, my eyes clamping shut even tighter as my cuffed hands grip the massage table for leverage. With his hands on my sides, he pulls all the way out and shoves himself back in meeting the hilt at every pump. It only takes four before my pussy is coming, clenching onto his cock for dear life, refusing to let it leave me ever again.

  “God, Astin,” he rumbles, slightly increasing in speed. “I want another one.”

  It's not a fucking Genie here to grant him wishes! And apparently it doesn't listen to me anyway, because I tried to cool it down before any of this shit started, yet I just came like a freshman boy touched for the first time in the back seat of a car.

  Klous plows back into me just as he did before except now instead of slow drags teasing the orgasm he wants, he's pounding away, the pressure almost too much for my pussy that hasn't had time to recuperate from the first orgasm. I whimper. I whine. I continue to moan through the overwhelming pleasure that's coming from him taking what he wants. Grabbing what he desires. Feeding me what I need. His hands that are bruising my hips stay planted like flags in the ground to claim territory. My orgasm starts in what feels like slow tantalizing waves, quaking in my pussy before spreading to my thighs, my knees, and doing its best to collapse my own arms.

  “That's right, love.” Klous holds me in place, his dick not faltering. The intensity gets so strong that instead of exploding like I imagine I would, my pussy surrenders another orgasm in hopes he'll be satisfied enough to let us go. On a deep roar, Klous states, “This is my pussy now, love. It belongs to me.” His dick swells and instantly I wish that warm claim that's filling the condom was filling me instead. As soon as he's done, he lifts my body up, so my back is pressed against his chest, while his hand gently runs across my nipples, toying with them. I shudder at the touch. His soft thumb grazing is too much. All of it is too much. “I'm gonna have you again, Astin...”

  Thankfully he releases my body and it falls limply, stretching out. My eyes drift close as I do my best to catch my breath from behind the toy that's still occupying my mouth. After just a few moments of silence, I hear the sound of pants being moved around, the stroking of his dick again, and a condom wrapper being torn.

  Wanting to fight but having no strength left in me, I simply whimper to let him know I'm not sure I can take it.

  Softly he says, “Relax, Astin.” Klous drags my body back towards him but leaves me on my stomach. More carefully than before he slides inside the muscles that are arguing against the invasion, exhausted. With slow strokes he convinces my body into welcoming him again, feeding the monster he's creating from the tastes of the high only he can supply. Moans begin leaking out of me as my cuffed hands grip at the table again needing stability from the force of the orgasm that's starting to stir inside of me.

  In a low whisper he states, “I can't get enough of you.”

  The declaration has me groaning in agreement.

  “I'll take care of this body, Astin,” he continues speaking with his mouth and his dick. “If you let me. I'll do it. Again.” Hard push. “Again.” Another hard push. “And again, love. I'll never stop...” His hands slide down my body in such a loving fashion. I'm convinced that's what pushes me over the edge. On a sharp scream I let loose the last orgasm I'm capable of, the impact strong enough it feels like I'm having a heart attack. Absorbing it until it becomes his own, Klous groans and grumbles. Within moments, he's trembling something fierce, coming apart in a similar way.

  At the pinnacle of exhaustion, I'm relieved when he reaches up and undoes the gag freeing my mouth. I may never speak again. It needs to rest for weeks. Months maybe. Do I even have a voice box left? With a similar care he releases my cuffed hands, moving his body away with both toys in his possession. My eyes that have glued themselves shut remain that way even as the sound of running water demands attention. A warm wet cloth touches my sensitive pussy, which causes a harsh twitch from me.

  “Relax, Astin. I promised to take care of you, so now I am.”

  His repeated testimony is followed by his warm hands, that have held me down, bruised, used and abused me in the best way, slowly massaging my body. Each push of his hands in my flesh feels like he's begging for more than just my submission. More than just acceptance. Something deeper. Not sure what. Not sure I wanna know what.

  Klous continues the massage, lotion rolling across my skin as I linger in and out of a conscious state. Eventually, he replaces the sheet on my body, and his movements all together stop. At that time I drag my slightly sore self up seconds before he's about to exit the room.

  “You're just...gonna leave?”

  Seeing my hurt expression he insists, “Give me a minute.”

  He disappears leaving me with an uneasy emptiness. There's no way I should be attached to him like this. So fucking what if he can make me see stars or what's over the rainbow. That doesn't mean anything. This is just sex. Really good sex.

  Klous opens the door with a bowl in his hand and two bottles of water. Unsure of when he put his pants back on, but thankful he left his shirt off, I admire the perfect view I'm sure comes from hours in the gym. Or vigorous sex. Or both.

  He offers me a bottle of water and says, “Drink up.”

  I take it and untwist the lid. “What's in the bowl?”

  “Watermelon,” Klous answers putting it on the edge of the table beside me. “It's to help you re-hydrate.”

  “You think you made me sweat tha
t much?”

  “I know I did.” The words make my sore pussy that should be out of commission throb. Sweetly he touches my face and whispers, “I can't wait to do it again either...”

  Curiously I ask, “No one can hear us back here?”

  “They left,” he replies grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl. “You were the last appointment of the day. I told them I'd lock up. Management trusts me.”

  “So what you're saying is I should schedule all my appointments this late?”