A Sensational Tease
"I'm sorry for your loss," is whispered to me in a soft voice with an echo of sadness as her cold fingers brush mine in a manner to offer comfort. Those. Three. Shitty. Words. I blankly stare into a petite Korean woman's somber almond-shaped brown eyes with delicate features. She follows up those empty words with the classic sorrow-filled compliment, "Your father was a good man." I try to give her a smile or a nod, but I sit paralyzed in my seat in the corner of the repast. After the loss of a parent, most people are paralyzed with grief, sadness, and a sense of themselves being buried along with their deceased parent. But I'm paralyzed with anger, still bubbling with regret of the hateful words I never got to fling in his face. The Korean woman's cold hands give me another pat as a comforting gesture as she moves on through the house. I laugh internally, thinking about how it never fails to remind me of how people always immortalize the dead as a person of great virtue with a contagiously joyous persona. But, when those generic words of insincere comfort fell from her lips, I'm sure she didn't know the real Ye-Jun Park. The man I called father was cold, unloving, and treated me like a cruel punishment forced upon him due to karma from a past life.
Today should be one of the saddest days of my life because I had to bury the last person of my immediate family; yet, I feel nothing but dead on the inside. I peer across the big formal living room of my childhood St. Louis home, remembering the day my father disowned me for following my dream of a music career. Not everyone wants to be an ivy league scholar. But, that man never could understand me. I begin feeling lightheaded, and the room starts to shift and spin, and I feel my breath become shallow. I need air. I need air, fast! I stand from the seat on wobbly legs while I hear a glass shatter on the hardwood floor and cool water splash against my ankles. Fuck. I forgot I hold a glass of water in my hands as I feel around for something to grab to balance me. I feel strong arms catch me before I hit the ground, arms that lift me effortlessly into a bridal style hold, and myself being carried away from the main room of the repast gathering. My nostrils fill with a hearty woodsy fragrance reminding me of pine trees and fresh air, with an underlining scent of orange zest. As I fade in and out of consciousness, the calming scent of the person that carries me is accompanied by the warmth of a hard chest my head bobs against. This person's heavenly scent, strong muscular body, and warmth begin to calm my current state of nerves.
Immediately, I notice that I'm no longer surrounded by the glorious scents of pine woods and orange zest. I become overwhelmed with discomfort like a child who got their pacifier snatched away when I realize I am no longer held in the comfort of those strong warm, comforting arms. Instead, I find myself lounging back on the black plush loveseat in my father's home office. The door is slightly ajar because I can still hear the distant noise of the repast going on a few rooms down the hallway. I perch on the edge of the loveseat and rub my temples, trying to calm the ice pick of pain pounding into my forehead. As I look up and feel out of sorts, my eyes wander over shiny black dress shoes, slacks covering long muscular legs, an athletic waist, and a broad chest in an expensive dress shirt, until my eyes land on the most beautiful dark brown eyes shielded by a gorgeous thick fringe of curled eyelashes. I swallow hard, fiddling with my ponytail, as I recognize this beautiful man from the funeral service.
"Are you okay? You put on quite the show in the other room. But I wouldn't expect anything less from a soon-to-be one-hit-wonder spoiled pop princess," he coldly growls, leisurely leaning against my father's large oak desk as if he's right at home in this office. His words cut me deeply, making me dig my nails into the velvet fabric of the loveseat as anger rises through my body at an alarming rate.
"Who the fuck are you to think that you can speak to me that way in my house? To say those rude words to me after I have just buried my father. You're a stranger who has some big balls to think you have the right to judge me," I retort, haughtily crossing the room in a fit of rage before realizing it. The closer I stand to this beautiful man I inhale that intoxicating scent of woodsy pine and orange zest. I feel my body explode with desire as he bites down on his full bottom lip, surrounded by a scruffy beard that adds to his sex appeal. I feel my face grow an annoying shade of crimson as I blush from naughty thoughts of his mouth between my thighs. My thoughts run wild with fantasies of those full pink lips suckling my clitoris as his beard glistens wet from the juices of my arousal. The handsome man probably witnesses the desire in my eyes but chooses to ignore it with a hateful dismissive glare.
"Ye-Jun was my role model. A great and fair man. Someone more deserving of a grateful child, but instead, the poor man was shackled with a disrespectful bratty daughter like you," he exclaims brusquely, pushing past my shoulder to close the door to the office shutting out the lingering voices of the repast. I whip my body around to face him, sucking in a breath of annoyance. This gorgeous man before me is the bane of my fucking existence. This man must be the high and almighty "surrogate son" my father constantly threw in my face. The young man that "if he'd had a better daughter" would be deserving as a husband. The employee he'd held in such high regard that they felt more like his child than his own flesh and blood, me. This man was Andres Fucking Rodriguez, the Venezuelan immigrant who worked his way through university and law school while working his way through my family's business ranks.
"Andres," the name falls softly from my lips, igniting a fire in his eyes as he strides to stand in front of me. His beautifully rugged features are scrunched up with distaste as he peers down into my eyes. God, this man is too sexy for his own good. Standing in close quarters with Andres has my mind simmering in a lustful haze. I become so fucking horny for this man that I unconsciously reach up to run my fingers around his soft lips, sliding across his neck's beautiful warm beige skin tone and lazily down his muscular abdomen. I hear a sharp intake of breath and realize it's him that's taken the deep inhale, giving away that he's not as immune to the sexual tension between us as he'd like to believe. He grabs my arm and pulls me flush against his warm, delectable body. Andres's kiss is punishing, hard, and tantalizing. As his free hand impatiently slides up my leg and under my drab black demure shift dress, I lose my mind. I kiss him back just as harshly, teeth clashing and tongues stroking into each other's mouths as his thumb strokes over my engorged clitoris. His soft strokes of my clitoris and the slick folds of my pussy have me clinging on to him for dear life. "Fuck me," I whimper against his hard mouth and quiver under his sensual strokes between my thighs.
Those two murmured words bring him back to reality, breaking us from our sexually charged moment, causing him to rip his fingers from my hot wet core, leaving me aching for release. Andres roughly flings my small frame away from him. I hit the desk hard, trying to drag in much-needed air after Andres' sensual exploration of my mouth and dripping wet center. Andres wipes his hand against his slacks in disgust, causing my heart to falter from the insult. He straightens himself between his legs, fixes his disheveled clothing, and shouts, "Cover yourself. You look like a whore." I look down at myself, realizing my dress's skirt is hiked around my hips, leaving my pussy on full display to him.
I smile while slowly brushing down my skirt, watching his eyes ignite with lust. I look him square in the eyes, mustering up all of my confidence, stating, "You clearly want this 'whore’. So, what's stopping you? You could have me on this desk if you wanted, Andres." I watch as shock crosses his face at my brazen comments and then quickly followed by distaste as he swallows hard.
"Ms. Park, I don't want to play these games with you. Nor do I want some young girl's pussy that's probably been worn out by every rapper, manager, and roadie on tour. I have standards, sweetheart, and there's not enough home training that could get you to my level. So, come by my office sometime this week. We'll discuss your father's will and your plans for your family business," Andres flings at me with a smirk as he exits the room swiftly. But he doesn't leave before giving me one last lingering glare that makes me feel like dog shit he needs to scrape off the bottom of his shoes. I feel my body fill with rage. Of course, I would have to deal with the one man my dad molded into his own image—another act of revenge from dearest daddy. I have to deal with my father's clone to situate my affairs so I can high tail it out of St. Louis and never look back. I let out an angry howl as I tossed his desk items onto the floor. It's like my father is still taunting me by ruining my life even from the fucking grave!
I check out my reflection in the window of the swanky bistro in downtown St. Louis. I feel my heart pounding against my chest as I nervously readjust my cleavage in my pink and white floral low-cut crop top. I take a quick glance behind me to make sure my booty cheeks are peeking out from beneath my tiny cutoff denim shorts. Then, with one last glance to make sure my beachy waves are flawlessly in place before I enter the restaurant and blow up Andres Fucking Rodriguez's lunch date. I swing open the door to the bistro, already angry because I had to chase him down today. According to his secretary, the asshole decided to step out for lunch, which is a rare occasion. I waltz into the swanky bistro like I own the fucking establishment. It doesn't take long to spot Andres sitting at ease in a light blue cotton button-down and khaki chinos. Andres Rodriguez was a pompous jackass but undeniably breathtakingly sexy. As I come around the corner, I feel a tinge of envy watching him smile in the company of a beautiful blonde Latina. I hold my head high as I slide into the unoccupied seat beside Andres as if I'm an invited lunch guest.
Andres' body goes rigid beside me, his gaze landing on my full chest. He clears his throat and coldly greets me, "Ms. Eden Park." It's been a couple of weeks since my father's funeral and since we've seen each other. He's reached out to me over email and phone calls, trying to set up a meeting with me for the reading of the will and estate arrangements. Yet, I'd ignored all of his correspondence, still horny, hot, and on edge from our last encounter. I go to bed at night, touching myself to that memory of what took place in my father's home office, and wake in the morning sexually unsatiated. Even at this moment, I feel my core clenching with sexual temptation as I sit a short distance from him, inhaling his woodsy pine and orange zest scent.
"Hey, Sexy," I purr at him as I stroke his cheek, making him blush underneath my gentle touch. He turns his gaze towards me, and I see lust flash across his eyes as he removes my hand and places it back on my lap. I narrow my eyes at the gorgeous woman across the table from us. Her big brown doe eyes outlined in charcoal look quizzically at Andres while biting down on her red-painted lip, trying to hide a smile. I look over at Andres as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I place my hand on his manhood, feeling his erection through his chinos, as I whisper in his ear, "Oh, hm! It looks like you missed me."
Andres turns his gaze on me, and it's as if time stands still with our lips just centimeters apart. His eyes wander across my face, giving none of his thoughts away, hiding his gaze with his thick fringe of lashes. He twirls one of my curls between his thumb and index finger and whispers, "You don't want to play with me, little girl. You're no match for me in the bedroom." My breath catches, his words arousing me and causing me to clench my thighs as my pussy grows soaking wet. The clearing of the woman's throat from across the table causes me to jump and drop my hand from Andres' hard, thick, aroused manhood.
I narrow my eyes, giving her one of my coldest stares that could freeze hell over. She glares back, showing me that she may possess an attitude that might match mine. "So, are you Andres' latest piece of ass that checks all his douchebag criteria," I say sarcastically, leaning over the table, invading her space. The blonde Latina turns green in the face like she ate something vile, her eyes looking over to Andres in complete and utter horror.
"You and your fucking pop princess childish antics. Jealous much, little girl? She's one of my little sisters," Andres states angrily, digging his fingers into my forearm and pushing me back into my seat and out of the blonde woman's space. Shit! I feel my face get hot with embarrassment as I rip my elbow out of Andres' grasp. Our eyes collide, and he gives me a smug stare as he revels in me making an ass out of myself.
His sister holds out her delicate hand to me and says, "Hi, beautiful. I'm Esmerelda." I give her a tight smile and take her hand, shaking it. She looks between Andres and me with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Yes, Andres is taking time from his busy schedule to discuss my daughter's quinceanera. He's graciously paying for it to make sure my little girl's dreams come true," Esmerelda gushes, making Andres flush and shift uncomfortably in his seat.
My heart tightens as I hear myself say softly, "A quinceanera is so important. Mine was so amazing. My mother, too, made sure of it. It was one of our last moments together before she passed away." I see my mother's beautiful raven black hair, beautifully made-up face, and bright white smile as she shoves me into my dress. That was one of my last happiest moments. That's how I like to remember her—laughing, singing in Spanish, and looking at me with sincere adulation. One of the happiest days of my life plays in my mind until I feel a soft, warm hand cover mine. I look into the soft dark brown eyes similar to Andres's but framed with charcoal eyeliner.
"Sweetheart, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. Oh wow, you had a quinceanera? It's usually a Hispanic tradition," Esmerelda says, softening my heart to this beautiful woman.
Before I can answer, Andres responds, "Ye-Jun’s wife was Mexican, Esmerelda. So, Eden is Mexican and Korean. It seems like she inherited that hot Latina temper from her mother’s side of the family.” I narrow my eyes at his smart-ass comment, but I only see laughter dancing in his eyes as he stares back. Andres absentmindedly takes one of my curls in between his fingers and twirls the dark lock of hair, bringing a smile to his sister’s face.
“Wait. If you’re Ye-Jun’s daughter, you have those two songs that my daughters are obsessed with at the moment. You’re huge right now! You also have that forbidden song with Lil’ Gunshot Killah. If you came to her quince, Angelica would die of happiness,” Esmerelda yells with glee, lighting her beautiful face up with excitement. I watch as discomfort shifts across Andres's face. A secret yet strained conversation crosses between him and his sister by way of an intense staredown.
I watch as Andres begins to open his mouth, but I cut him off by saying quickly, “I would love to come to perform for your daughter’s quince this weekend. Since being back in St. Louis, I don’t have anything keeping me busy. Quince’s are so much fun! I’d love to perform for her, even though Andres thinks I’m a one-hit-wonder in the making. Which I kind of surpassed with three-hit top 100 Billboard songs, you know?” I boast shamelessly, playfully punching him in the shoulder so hard he lets out a grunt.
“You can’t possibly perform. I’m sure it’s some breach of your contract or something,” Andres exclaims, trying to uninvite me from his niece’s quinceanera discreetly.
“You’re a contractual attorney. She can send you her contract, and you can look over it. I am so excited, Eden! Angelica will be so happy,” Esmerelda cries with joy.
I brush my pointer finger down the side of Andres's face; leaning over, I whisper, “I guess this soon-to-be washed-up pop princess will see you Saturday, sexy Uncle Andres.” He looks at me with fury, then desire clouds his eyes as his gaze lingers on my lips.
Clearly, there’s some sexual interests brewing between us. I just have to find a way to seduce this man since he’s in such deep denial that it exists. I guess he’ll be my entertainment since I have nothing better to do while I’m in this hell hole of a hometown, awaiting my next tour.
Why the fuck did I agree to this, I question myself, my heart thudding in my chest, as I sit outside the front of the hotel where Esmerelda told me the quinceanera was being held. I tap my finger on my steering wheel, trying to talk myself into going through with this performance. Was I dressed correctly? Was my voice warmed up enough? Would I ruin this young girl’s biggest birthday party ever? I am so consumed with the self-deprecating thoughts in my head that it takes me a few minutes to hear the hard-knocking on my driver-side window. At first, I’m startled, and then agitation takes over. Oh, what a joy. Andres is leaning over my driver's side, glaring daggers at me through the window.
As I unlock my car door, it’s yanked open, and I’m pulled out before I can even bite out a smart-ass comment towards him. He half carries me into the luxury hotel, turning me to face him and crowding my space, trapping me between him and a wall. I give him my bitchiest expression as I glare back into his hateful expression. “What the fuck is your problem,” I hiss through my teeth, trying to push at his hard muscular chest to create space between us, but my wimpy push is to no avail.
“Look here, you fucking spoiled brat. You’re twenty minutes late, and I thought I would have to track you down and drag you here by your fucking hair. You may not like me, but to stand up and embarrass a young girl on her biggest birthday? What type of self-centered-” Andres yells, but I cut him off with a hard slap to his face. He looks at me, shocked, grasping my wrist hard and pulling me to him as he traps my hand behind my back.
“Let go of me! I was late because I wanted to make sure my vocals were warmed up and I was dressed to impress. No matter how fucking much I hate you, I’d never hurt a child and your sister Esmerelda is wonderful,” I fling at him, trying to wrench myself from his stronghold that imprisons me. His dark, furious eyes roam across my heavily made-up face, down to my generous cleavage on show in my tight lace crop top and to my cheeky high-waisted black shorts. I watch his eyes cloud with sexual want as he sneers at me.
“Well, darling! It’s hard to believe you were late choosing an outfit for you to settle on such a slutty getup. This is a teen soiree, not a trashy rap music video shoot, little girl. You know someone needs to bring you under control. Teach you a lesson. You need a good fucking dressing down. You are too fucking spoiled for your own good,” Andres snarls at me, his mouth inches away from mine. I feel my nipples pebble beneath my bra, my stomach turns cartwheels, and I feel desire rush through my body because his comforting scent of woodsy pines and orange zest fills my nostrils.
“Are you going to be the one to teach me this lesson? Do you want to play my new daddy? Teach me how to act like a grateful good little girl, which my dead father wasn’t able to do in these past twenty years? I can call you mi Papi while you teach me these lessons. Would you like that,” I ask saucily, feeling the sexual tension crack in the air around us. All I can see next is stars while Andres kisses me at a punishing pace holding my arms above my head against the wall. His free hand lazily trails against my bare midriff and gropes my breasts, winding me up in knots of sexual need. He nips at my lip and trails his tongue down my jaw to bite down on a sensitive point on my neck, sending shivers of lust down my spine. I lose all sense and can’t formulate any sentences as my eyes roll to the back of my head from pleasure.
“Andres! What the fuck are you doing? Is this why she’s late because you can’t keep your fucking hands off her? I knew there was some tension at lunch the other day, but Dios Mio! She needs to be performing, not being accosted by you. Get your dick under control, estupido,” Esmerelda yells, letting out a few more expletives in Spanish as she rips him off of me. I let out a sigh of relief as she drags me off to perform for his niece’s quinceanera.
I stand in the middle of the ballroom, signing autographs, taking pictures, and laughing with Andres’ family and friends. Wow. So, this is what family feels like; I think to myself as a sharp pain shoots through my heart. A wave of depression hit me as I wander over to get some water from the buffet table. It seems like Andres’s jealousy is misplaced in the life that I lived. He may have survived humble beginnings, but at least his life was filled with love and family. I had a displeasing, disapproving, bitter father that couldn’t look at me after his beloved wife’s death. A family who only knew grief and never recovered from my twin brother’s death. But Andres, this man, had everything that mattered, and all I had was an aspiring music career. It was almost comical that he thought he could teach me a thing or two about how to be grateful in life. I snort to myself as I chug my water bottle.
His scent fills my nose before I see him or feel his presence. This man, Andres Fucking Rodriguez, is the bane of my existence, but my body continuously misses the memo since my core becomes milky with desire as he approaches me. My nipples stand to attention as he stands in front of me, looking unsure of himself. He then exhales slowly and says, “So, I have to give it to you, pop princess. You can actually sing. You aren’t the talentless bimbo using her talents on her knees to skyrocket in the music business as I thought.”
“Seriously, I did you a fucking favor after you dragged me into the hotel and felt me up! Yet, you still have the audacity and huge fucking balls to insult me,” I shout at him, annoyed, turning to walk out of the ballroom. I was so over Andres’ nasty jeers and insults to belittle me. Like father, like protégé, I guess.
“Hey darling, stop,” Andres whispers, swinging me around to face him, making my body flush with sexual need from the contact and his close proximity to me. His dark eyes roam my face, and I witness nothing but sincerity when he says, “Look, I’m not the best at admitting when I’m wrong. I’m kind of always right. So, this is hard for me, Bonita. You’re a beautiful, talented woman. I thank you for making this the best day of Angelica’s life. She can’t stop smiling, and it’s because you put that toothy grin on that sweet girl’s face!” Andres caresses the side of my face making me snuggle into his affectionate touch. God! I never wanted a man so badly in my life. He ignited me to such anger, made my pussy quiver and clench just from his scent, and battered my already tattered heart with his sharp tongue. Andres was the bane of my existence and would destroy me. But like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t resist him.
“Let’s get a room,” I suggest biting my lip. His nostrils flare with shock, and his face transitions from confusion to self-preservation, as he mulls my words over in his mind. He gently kisses my forehead, and I revel in the comfort of his body against mine and his calming aroma.
“I’m too old for you, darling. I’m like sixteen years older than you. You cannot handle me. I fuck wild. I fuck hard. I would destroy you, little girl,” he whispers in my ear.
“I can handle it,” I say, pulling out of his arms and staring into his eyes.
Andres absentmindedly twirls one of my curls around his fingers, searching my face for answers, and he sighs, “Fuck it. I’ll get a room. But a warning, Eden, you asked for it.”
I feel myself shiver in anticipation and scream inside with joy. He may think he’s a freak and likes to get nasty, but he has no clue what I want in the bedroom. I’m not as innocent as I look, so he should heed his own warning. He’ll probably need it; in fact, I may teach him a thing or two.
Andres didn’t touch me, he didn’t look at me, and he didn’t acknowledge me the whole way to the hotel room. His whole persona changed from the man who stood before me only minutes before outside of his niece’s quinceanera. Andres wasn’t completely wrong. We did get buck wild on music tours, especially after being amped up on adrenaline after a good show. Yet, the shift in Andres had me feeling uneasy. Shit, he did warn me. So, what if I wasn’t prepared for how he fucked? I had second thoughts as he opened the door with the key card and ushered me inside. I stood in front of the window and peered up into the dark night sky, trying to calm my nerves. I couldn’t tell if my heart was beating fast from my sexual anticipation or the anxiety of the change in Andres’ temperament.
I turn around to face Andres as he clears his throat. He looks at me sternly and says, “You can go now if you’re having second thoughts, little pop princess. I totally understand.” He gives me a challenging stare, and I wanted nothing more than to rub the smug expression off his face. What if the cold way he treated me was his way of trying to make me back down. But standing there in that moment, my body zings with desire. I have lusted over this man since our eyes met at my father’s funeral. I have spent many nights running my fingers through the slick folds of my pussy, rubbing my clitoris, and climaxing to this man’s name and the memory of his intoxicating scent. My pussy was soaking for his attention, my body was burning from the inside out with sexual frustration, and I could not think straight this close to something I’d been fantasizing about for weeks.
“How do you want to start? I don’t scare that easy, sexy Uncle Andres,” I say, trying to mask the wobbliness of my voice with insincere confidence. I hold my head high while drinking in the sexy man still standing near the door. Andres sizes me up, and he bites his lip in anticipation. His eyes go dark with desire as he shrugs off his suit jacket and undoes his tie.
“Okay. So, here’s how it’s going to be for you. I call all of the shots in the bedroom. That might be hard for a mouthy bitch like yourself, but you don’t make a fucking move in the bed with me unless I tell you to do so,” he aggressively states, making my core drip with his domineering antics and snide comments. I clench my thighs together in the eagerness for what was to come trying to release some of the sexual tension. Popping the buttons on his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled chest, making my mouth go dry, he continues, “I will give you an order and expect you to do it immediately. So, take off your fucking clothes, pop princess.”
Without hesitation, I kick off my black booties, shimmy out of my leather shorts, and shrug out of my lace top. I had grown used to getting undressed on short notice in front of an audience due to quick wardrobe changes while on tour. If he thought that would freak me out from his sexual prowess, then he needed to try a little harder. I glance at him, and my fingers itch to touch his rock-hard torso. He clears his throat and barks, “How cute, kid? So, inexperienced. You still have on your lingerie. Remove it all, now!” He watches me with his right eyebrow raised, biting his lip. I quickly remove my lacy black bra, letting my breast fall naturally and heavy. My nipples become so tight and so erect under his heated gaze. I shimmy out of my matching lace thong and toss them at him. He catches them, holding the tiny scrap of lace to his nose and inhaling the evidence of my arousal on my soaked thong. I stand there in all my naked glory while his eyes peruse my body as he licks his lips, discarding the rest of his clothing.
I cannot help but stare at his large girthy erection jutting to life before my eyes. Staring at the thick hardness of his dick makes my mouth water, wondering if he tastes as good as he smells. “You’ll need to choose a safe word and signal—something you wouldn’t normally do during sex. I’m into sensory deprivation and play, so I need something from you when things get rough between us,” he growls, making an ice-cold shiver shoots down my spine.
“Hm. My safe word could be Ye-Jun. My safe signal could be a knee to your balls,” I laugh, causing him to roll his sexy dark eyes in annoyance.
“You have a morbid sense of humor, brat. Yet, I don’t want you calling out another man’s name while I’m balls deep inside your sweet wet pussy. So, pick another. You may not be able to move your legs, so my manhood is safe from your knees,” he harshly states, tapping his fingers on his hips in impatience and schooling his expression into a look of boredom.
“Fine. The safeword is Sailor Moon. A safe signal is if I blink my right eye three times. Happy,” I ask, wringing my hands together. Andres gives me a curt nod of approval sending a wave of pleasure that I’ve pleased him coursing through my body. Andres beckons me towards him with the curve of his index finger. Once in front of him, he pushes me down onto the bed, causing me to bounce back to the iron headboard. His big naked body covers mine; he straddles me with his erection leaking warm sticky precum on my stomach as he ties my arms to the headboard with his necktie. Andres passionately kisses my mouth, our tongues competing for control as he causes my pussy to clench in agony as it grows wetter with arousal. He releases my lips with a tug of my bottom lip, then shoves my panties into my mouth, making me taste the saltiness of my arousal. Oh shit! This man has deprived me of my ability to touch and speak. This is a new and sexy experience. Nonetheless, my heart tap dances against my chest in daunting excitement.
Andres purposely pins me to the mattress with the weight of his heavy muscular frame. He teases me with his tongue by licking fiery sensual ribbons of need down my jawline, around the shell of my ear, and gently nips on my earlobe. He sucks on my neck, causing me to quiver as my hot wet core clenches, awaiting sexual release. Andres lazily trails his tongue across my clavicle and down to my heavy full B cup breasts. My nipples stand painfully erect, desperately wanting and needing his touch. He takes my right nipple between his full pout, feasting on it like a man who hasn’t eaten in days while he palms my left breast. Plucking, rolling, and pinching my left nipple until it’s so hard and so sensitive, he abandons my right to subject my overly sensitive left to the same erotic torture. Andres doesn’t stop the nipple play until they're so sensitive and so erect that his blowing on them sends a sharp tug of pleasure to the dampness between my thighs.
He leisurely travels his tongue down my slender torso, dipping his tongue into my belly button, causing my body to quiver. Andres moves lower on the bed, stroking, licking, and nibbling on my hips and mound between my legs. Tossing both my legs effortlessly over his shoulders, he rolls my body up on my shoulders, holding my slick pussy lips wide, and begins licking me from bottom to top. He fucks my pussy with his tongue as he swirls my wetness around my clitoris, applying just the right amount of pressure to it, causing me to let out a muffled scream through the fabric in my mouth. Andres devours my pussy relentlessly, far better than any of my fantasies. Taking his sweet time as he works me over into sexual oblivion, making me writhe beneath his lips and fingers. He begins sucking on my clitoris and trails my wetness from my hot core to my tight, puckered asshole. I feel a burning sensation as he slowly inserts one wet finger into my asshole. I feel my eyes go wide as he smiles against my clitoris I fling my head back in surrender as my orgasm tears from my body as he sucks on my clitoris and finger fucks my asshole.
Before I can catch my breath and recover from my first ever earth-shattering orgasm, Andres is untying my arms from the headboard of the bed and leading me towards the hotel's balcony. I’m so weak and compliant from the previous orgasm that I can’t balk in dismay until I feel the night's cold air make my overly sensitive and tight nipples perk up. I shake my head as he ties me with his necktie to the railing of the hotel room balcony. I feel exposed, turned on, and nervous as he bends me over, pulls my hips back towards him, and slams his massive manhood inside of me before I can protest, causing me to whimper in painful sexual delight. I feel my breasts jiggle as he deeply penetrates my soaking wet pussy ruthlessly. He leans over, yanking the thong out of my mouth that was muffling my groans and moans. Andres slaps my ass, covering my howl from the sting with his hand, and whispers, “You have to be quiet, darling. You wouldn’t want us to get caught and have a headline splashed across the gossip sites that reads, ‘Rising pop star jailed for freaky sex on a hotel balcony.’ I don’t think that would go over well for your music career and image.”
He tweaks my nipples, thrusting erratically as I bite down on my bottom lip to hold back my screams of pleasure. Despite the cold weather, our bodies are slick with sweat; the only sounds in the air are wet, slick noises from him pounding into my aroused pussy, and skin-on-skin contact from the way he’s fucking me so dirty. His breath gets harsher in my ear as he bites down on my shoulder, flinging us into sexual ecstasy. I feel him draw blood from my shoulder, and I almost fall down while he unties my arms. He picks me up, and I breathe in the musky scent of our sex in the air and the comforting scent of his woodsy and orange zest smell. Like at the repast, he carries me back into the hotel bridal style and lays my limp body on the bed.
Andres crashes down beside me, stroking my cheek and tenderly kissing my forehead.
“That was incredible. We have to do it again,” I pant, looking at the ceiling.
Andres barks out a laugh and says, “I can’t deny that was fucking amazing. Your body is so responsive, and your pussy gets so wet and tight for my dick. You felt like a fucking velvet glove, pop princess. I’m sure I can keep you occupied these next few weeks.”
I scream on the inside throwing myself on top of him to pepper his face with kisses. This was going to be one wild time in my life as I embraced my role as Andres’s personal sex slave until I left this godforsaken town.
I yawn for the millionth time as my stylist zips me into a skintight hot pink leather bodycon mini dress. I can barely breathe, and my skin feels raw from my late night of marathon sex with Andres. Over the past few weeks, Andres couldn’t keep his hands off me. I have done things that make me blush just thinking about it. Who knew it’d be so much fun to be a man’s personal cumdumpster? Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be able to reach my own climax just from having a man come all over me. He had marked me with his teeth, bruises, and hickies. My makeup artist, publicist, and manager cringed when they saw me covered in all the passion and ownership marks that Andres had left all over my body. But I absolutely loved how possessive this sexy domineering asshole was when it came to me.
The more time we spent together, not only screwing like jackrabbits but just talking about life. I had begun to become even more smitten with him. Andres had me by the ovaries, and there was nothing he could say or do that wouldn’t have me falling over myself to make it happen for him. I hear the door creak open, and a low whistle as Andres steps into the room. This man was so fine and deserved the title of sexiest man alive. He was so beautiful, even casually dressed in a black cotton long sleeve crewneck, dark jeans, and black and white retro Jordans.
“Oh my, oh my. Now I see,” my stylist whispers, causing us to giggle as she leaves the dressing room. I turned to face Andres, and his look of sexual appreciation made my skin heat up, and my pussy became drenched with desire. Andres gives me a kiss on my forehead, which I appreciate because I do not want to endure the glares of my beauty and hair team if he messes up my hair and makeup before this publicity gig.
“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend the night, but thanks for coming to my silent listening pop-up party to get buzz for me before the next leg of the tour,” I say appreciatively as I run my fingers through his hair.
“Of course, anything for my pretty lady,” Andres responds. “Plus, I have something to make tonight interesting for the both of us anyway. Andres laughs at my shocked expression as my eyes bug out of my head. He pulls out a purple toy from inside a bag that I didn’t realize he carried into the room.
“Lay back on the couch,” he instructs, which I do as he says without hesitation. He looks pleased to see I have on no panties as he finger fucks me and flicks my clitoris until I’m a writhing mess beneath his fingers. My pussy juices run down my thighs as he inserts the toy inside my hot wet core and positions it on my clitoris. I let out a soft moan of pleasure as he pulls away from me and fiddles with his phone, sending vibrations thrumming through my damp center and engorged nub between my thighs. “I can control your orgasm tonight while in public, pop princess,” he gives me a wink. I have no time to protest as my publicist and manager rush into the room to carry me out to the crowd of fans that await me for the silent listening party.
During the event, my job was to rile up the crowd to get them excited as we don on our headphones to listen to some of my music tracks from my upcoming album. But, it’s hard to stay focused as Andres plays with my pussy from an app on his cell phone, causing my legs to shake and my skin to flush as he works me close to the edge of climax. His actions make me hot, desperately wanting release, and leave me sexually frustrated. When I'm with my fans, I’m in my element and feel happy watching them from the stage as we rave to my music in our headphones. Andres being the sexual tease and voyeur that he is, thrums the vibrations through my body to the beat of my own music. I find myself on stage twerking and dancing harder in an attempt to camouflage my body erupting in pleasure. I feel my core clench towards the end of the last song and scream my pleasure into the microphone to act as if I’m pumped by the music and not the orgasm ripping from my body.
At the end of the publicity party, my legs feel like jelly as I exit the stage. Even after the mind-blowing orgasm on stage, I’m hungry for more, and my pussy weeps for the feel of Andres’s big thick dick pounding into my hot and wet center. Before I can make it into the dressing room to change, I’m pulled into the nearest bathroom. I’m accosted by the glorious scent of Andres, making my tense body relax as his hands aggressively hold my face and his mouth comes crashing down on mine. He yanks up my skirt like a caveman whispering in my ear, “Who does this pretty pussy belong to, darling?”
Before I can respond, he slaps my clitoris, making me yelp in pleasure and pain; I moan out, “Yours!” He gives it another slap causing me to feel my insides clench with lust as he lifts me onto his hips, pushes me up against the bathroom door, and impales me onto his rigid velvet dick. He holds my hands above my head and shoves into me punishingly, taking his pleasure from my pussy and rough kisses on my mouth. He fucks me hard until I’m screaming his name and telling him he owns my sweet little pussy due to the nasty demands he whispers into my ear. I bite down on his shoulder and feel his seed squirt inside of me. My insides clenched every last bit of his release, and the door rattled behind me as he thrusts into me one last time, emptying himself into me. He reaches in between my thighs and strokes my clitoris mercilessly, flinging me over the edge of desire and chasing the stars behind my eyelids as I splinter apart into orgasmic bliss.
As I let my head lull forward and fall in exhaustion onto his shoulder. I realize there is no going back to any other man after Andres Fucking Rodriguez. The bane of my existence. Had ruined me for all other men. No man could ever fuck me into oblivion and keep it nasty like Andres. I was in deep shit, I realized.
I sit in my childhood bedroom in one of Andres’ black t-shirts, tapping the pen on the business contracts of my family business. I had my personal attorney draw up contracts for me because I only had a few days left in St. Louis before leaving this town for good without a backward glance. I never wanted to be in the Korean food distribution or restaurant business. If I were in it, I only wanted to be a silent partner. This was supposed to be my twin brother’s legacy, not mine. This business is what drove a wedge between my father and me. But, despite the hatred I felt for my dad, I couldn’t let the company he built with his blood, sweat, and tears just go to anybody. So, I signed on the dotted line and took a slow deep breath. I felt secure in my decision, and I was happy to be letting this last piece of my past be buried along with the rest of my family. I laugh as Andres kisses and licks the sensitive spot on the side of my neck. He swipes up the paperwork that had me consumed and skims through it.
“What the fuck is this,” he questions angrily. I turn around to face him, my mouth going dry as I take in the sight of this beautiful man without a stitch of clothing. The sight of his toned tall, muscular nude body never gets old and continuously has me salivating at the mouth.
I close my eyes, mustering up all my confidence from within, and respond, “It’s what I’m deciding to do with my family business. It was never something I was passionate about or wanted to run. I’m so shocked by how much it’s worth-“
“So, you’re fucking selling it to someone,” Andres growls angrily, tossing the papers at my feet.
“No dick wad, look at it again. I’m not selling it. Even though my dad and I weren’t the closest, I can’t bring myself to sell it,” I yell at him, picking up the paperwork and shoving it against his chest.
He takes a second to scrutinize the forms, and then he looks at me in utter disbelief. I can’t hold back my excitement and smile any longer. I snatch up the pen from my desk, extending it to him as I say, “Now, sign on the dotted line. I’m sure it killed my dad to leave it to me, anyways. You loved my dad, loved his company, and he felt the same about you. So, be my business partner?” A moment in time freezes between us as he looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. Honestly, even if we weren’t fucking, and I still hated his guts, I would’ve begrudgingly signed over part of the company to him because it meant more to him than it did to me. I had my music career that was taking off, and I was bringing in enough money to have a comfortable life. So, why not help my dad’s mentee and his family?
The papers flutter to the floor as Andres rips his shirt over my head, exposing my naked body. He tosses me on the bed, making my body shiver in excitement. Andres quickly goes to work, cuffing my hands to the cuffs on my childhood bedpost and shackling my legs to the spreader bar at the foot of the bed. The last thing I see is his mischievous smirk as he covered my eyes with a blindfold plunging me into complete darkness. I feel my clitoris become engorged, my nipples stand to hard erect attention, and my breathing quickens as he deprives me of all five of my senses, except for taste. Andres Fucking Rodriguez is the true definition of a freak. He yanks my legs wider as the spreader bar slides apart. I listen to the soft voices of Jodeci in his wireless earbuds as I feel his mouth begin to feast on the wet folds of my pussy.
I shiver as I feel ice trace the outline of my lips, teasing my nipples and swirling around my clitoris as he eases two fingers in and out of my body. I whimper in pleasure, bucking my body off the bed as his lips and tongue replace the ice. He eats me out until I’m shaking; I feel the intense orgasm building in my body, and when I’m close, Andres pulls away. Leaving me unsatiated, frustrated, and sexually on edge. Andres loves to tease me until I am reduced to begging for him to own my pussy and bring me world-rocking pleasure. After a few minutes, I feel the flame's heat slowly moving between my thighs; I feel warm wax drop slowly from my pubic mound to my nipples to my neck and down back to my stomach. Once the wax has hardened on my overly sensitive and aroused skin, Andres lifts me and slides between the small space between the mattress and my body. I feel a soft gasp of ecstasy leave my lips as he eases me down on his big thick erect dick. Then, he bucks his hips causing me to bounce on that dick. I feel my orgasm build as I slam down on his manhood in a quick, jerky rhythm instead of the original slow pace.
He rubs on my clitoris as I let go, and my legs begin to shake as my orgasm hits my body. I feel him remove me from his body, slide out from beneath me and squirt his release all over my body like we’re making the hottest porno of our lives. The wax mixed with his seed is so hot and so sexy. It’s an erotic feeling I’ve never felt before, and it’s all I can think about as I fall into a deep sleep basking in the afterglow of great sex.
I wake up breathing in a now-familiar hearty woodsy scent and orange zest and letting the calming aroma overtake me while I snuggle closer to Andres’s chest. I look down at my body and realize that we’re clean and fresh. So, he had given us both a bath at some point in the night. Even though Andres was a demanding lover, he was the best at sexual aftercare. No matter how tired I was after our sex, he cleaned and pampered me, ensuring that I woke up feeling secure and spoiled. I’m pulled out of my cloud of happiness by the shrill ring of my cellphone. I try to ignore it, but it keeps ringing. I roll my eyes and slide out of bed to grab it.
“Hello,” I whisper agitatedly.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you seen the internet! You, my dear, are royally fucked,” my manager screams into my ear. I run my hands through my hair in confusion. It’s too early in the morning for her over-dramatic shit.
“I just woke up. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I yell back.
“You’re all over the internet getting down and fucking dirty in the sack,” she wails at me. My heart begins to pound against my chest as I rush over to my laptop.
“Oh my goodness,” I screech, clicking through headline after headline as my manager shouts at me through the phone about damage control and then hangs up. I feel the room tilt. My head swirls as I try to catch my breath. His words flow back to me as I try to make sense of the ultimate betrayal. “You need to be taught a lesson.” He shouted at me the night of his niece’s quince. “You need a good dressing down.” Even when I first met him, he told me I’d be a “Dried up one-hit-wonder pop princess”. The bane of my existence, Andres Fucking Rodriguez, had methodically ruined me. He had taken the one thing I loved in my life and pissed on it because he thought I needed to be put in my place. Anger courses through my body as I grab a pillow and begin beating him in the head with it as hard as I can while tears stream down my face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bitch,” Andres's words slur as he pulls himself awake, snatching the pillow out of my grasp.
“Like you don’t know! We’re all over the internet. You fucking ruined my life! You hurt me, Andres; how could you,” I shriek, ripping myself out of his grasp as he stares at me dumbfounded.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Eden? You aren’t making sense,” he growls at me as he steps towards me, and I step back. I flee to my bathroom, locking myself inside and crawling into a ball.
Andres bangs on the door, begging me to open it and conveniently blaming us all over the internet as him being hacked.
How could I be so stupid? I trusted him. Fell for him, and he just wanted to teach me a lesson.
The last part of my heart breaks. There are no nice men in this world, I think to myself.
But Andres wasn’t going to have the last laugh.
I was going to find a way to piece not only my budding career back together but also my heart.
I was no longer going to be a people pleaser who let men determine my life outcome.
Like, father. Like fucking protégé.
I was going to come back swinging, and Andres wouldn’t know what fucking hit him.
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