Best & Worst Sex of Christmas Past

It's been two days of heartache and mourning one of the best relationships of my life. I lay on the living room floor of my Seattle apartment, listening to Lemonade by Beyonce on repeat. Since my Sir ended our two-year dominant and submissive relationship, I have bawled my eyes out. At this point, I just dry heave when I feel the sharp pain in my heart because I have cried out all of my tears.  I reach my hand out, trying to find my third bottle of wine in the darkness of my home. Once I find it and lift it to my lips, I feel disappointment as only a drop falls on my tongue from the empty bottle. I slam the empty wine bottle on the floor. I roll over on my stomach and repeat the lyrics of Beyonce's ultimate breakup song, "Is there something that I'm missing? Maybe my head for one!"

What jackass dumps someone literally two weeks before Christmas? I bang my head and fists against my floor in frustration, trying to sort out all of my pain and sorrows. Today should be the happiest day of my life, and I couldn't even celebrate the great news I just received from my literary agent. My fantasy erotic romance manuscript is being picked up by one of the biggest publishing companies in the country. Not only did they love this book but, want me to sign a deal for a three-book series. My dreams were finally coming true as an author but, I couldn't muster up any enjoyment after being dismissed so coldly by my Sir. Call me shallow, but now I will have to show up to the English Department's faculty Christmas party dateless. I could already feel the embarrassment seeping over my whole body. After raving about how fantastic this man, my Sir, was and how in love we were to my coworkers, I'd have no one to show to save face. Then, I'm formally invited to the Publishing Company's Christmas party.  This invite felt like a dagger in my heart. The one person who deserves my book dedication wouldn't be there to accompany me. This was quickly becoming one of the worst holiday seasons of my life!

As I sit up, the room begins to spin, and the alcohol in my stomach sloshes around, making me feel nauseous. I try to stand up to make it to the bathroom to empty my stomach, but I feel off-balance, and my legs collapse underneath me. I lay back on the floor and wait for the sickness to pass as I hear a text alert from my cell phone. I groan in annoyance and close my eyes and ignore it. I know it's my group text with my best friends. My best girlfriends are trying to check in on me since it's been days since I told them about my breakup.  My anger bubbles as I think of my Sir dumping my ass and kicking me to the curb, like yesterday's newspaper, or in other words, I was old news to him.  I was a bore to him after two years of giving him everything! I just didn't understand! I was the perfect submissive and gave him complete control. I guess I just wasn't what he wanted at the end of it all.

My phone begins to ring, causing a sharp pain in my head, and I answer it quickly to end that God-awful noise. "Hello," I slur hoarsely into the phone. After drowning my sorrows at the bottom of a few wine bottles, my throat feels like sandpaper. Not to mention it aches terribly from all my heart-wrenching tears over the past couple of days.

"Ava, darling, are you okay? We haven't heard from you since that Bastard let go of the best thing in his life," Kenzie angrily states, causing my head to throb even more. I loved my best friend, Kenzie, but she was extremely melodramatic. Also, her high pitch voice was not what you wanted to hear when in a drunken stupor or nursing a killer hangover.

"I’m fine. I’m just listening to music and going through my usual breakup ritual,” I say lamely and then quickly change the subject. I continued before Kenzie could lecture me about my breakup ritual by saying, “I got a great gift from my literary agent. I heard back, and I got a fucking book deal!” She lets out a high-pitched shriek causing me to pull the phone away from my ear due to my splitting headache. I put her on speaker, placing the phone on my living room floor and rubbing my middle fingers into my temples, trying to massage away my headache to no avail.

“I’m contacting the girls! Tomorrow. 8 pm. We're going to that hot new bar downtown to celebrate. I’ll be over at five tomorrow. So, I can dress your ass and get you out of the heartache hotel you’ve created,” Kenzie sarcastically says before we say our goodbyes and hang up.

Oh, joy! She was going to doll me up and drag my ass out to get drunk on cocktails and try to make me forget the best man that ever entered my life. While I sit on the floor, an idea comes to my mind to help me find the perfect date for my upcoming Christmas parties. I was going to see what men from my past were still single and see if they’d be interested in hanging out with me this holiday season. For the first time in two days, I don’t feel lonely and hopeless as I start to stalk my ex's social media accounts. 

I admire my reflection in my bathroom mirror. It definitely paid off to have a bestie who is a professional makeup artist. She had transformed me from a lovesick vagrant to an Instagram hottie. Kenzie had added soft curls to my auburn-colored hair extensions that fell around my shoulder in beachy wavy ringlets that curled loosely beneath my boobs. She had covered my puffy eyes with the magic of concealer and had made my macchiato skin flawless and glowing. Kenzie masks my eyes' lifeless and depressive look with shimmery gold eyeshadow on my lids, a festive green eyeliner on my bottom lids, and big doll-like false eyelashes. This made my big dark brown eyes stand out in my heart-shaped face giving me a come hither sexy glam look. She left my lips nude with shades of brown matte lipstick. Kenzie leveraged all her fashionista skills my way and dressed me in a green lace-boned bodysuit which showed a generous amount of cleavage. She had shoved me into a pair of tight black leather pants that made my ass look like a Georgia peach and topped off my look with a fur-cropped jacket and black suede boots. Kenzie had worked her magic, and I was a sexy curvaceous black woman with newfound confidence.

 “Oh my gosh! Thanks, Kenz! I feel like a brand new woman,” I say gleefully as I watch her paint her lips red and shake out her long, raven black hair. Kenzie was a gorgeous Japanese woman with a stunning bone structure that made her breathtakingly beautiful. Actually, as beautiful as my best friends’ are, there was no way in hell I would’ve gone out for a night on the town without Kenzie dressing me.

“You’re a badass bitch! Fuck that dumbass that let you go! There will be so much new dick at this bar wagging for you. You’ll be like ‘Master who’,” Kenzie jokes as she grabs our bags and scurries us out of my apartment and into a waiting Uber. I let out a breathless thank you to my friends and felt the excitement of leaving the depression of my apartment behind. Who knew good hygiene and a killer outfit were all a woman needed to get over a bad breakup?

“To the beautiful Ava Jones and her black girl magic, creativity, and naughty thoughts,” my best friends cheer as we clink our Gingerbread Martinis together. I felt myself become coy and embarrassed by the mention of naughty thoughts. My besties loved to tease me about the smutty fantasy novels I was always reading and writing. But I sat a little straighter and more confidently because those naughty thoughts and dirty stories landed me a book deal so, nothing was embarrassing about loving erotica. I let the noise of the bar consume me as I sip on my fourth festive cocktail and watch my best friends give flirty eyes to men around the room.

“So, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Lily joked, lifting her martini to her lips. I watched her platinum blonde bob swing around her face as she winks at me.

“Or on top of someone else,” Shayla chimed in on the saying as she bumped her shoulder with mine and fluffed out her twist out natural hairstyle.

“Or bent over someone’s motorcycle,” Kenzie said, taking a cinnamon candy apple shot, adding to her Asian glow the drunker she became.

I rolled my eyes at all of them and said, “I’ve been looking at my exes from the past trying to scout out possible dates for my upcoming Christmas parties.” All my friends’ eyes grow with horror, and  Lily reaches for my hand and soothingly strokes it.

“Geez. It’s been literally two days, honey. No need to get desperate,” Shayla says through pursed lips causing me to glare at her angrily.

I watch Lily signal for more tequila shots with her free hand to our cocktail waitress. Lily places both of her well-manicured hands around mine and says sternly, “You’ve had some wild men in your past since I’ve known you. So, who could you possibly be interested in backtracking to that would make for a good date, even just for a night?”

Before I could respond, the cocktail waitress sits down four shots, and we all clink them together, hit them on the table, and devour them in one swallow. I suck on my lime slowly to gather my thoughts before responding to Lily’s question. I identified eight possible exes, flings, situationships, or however, you classify them, possibly available for a good holiday hang out. Maybe even a potential hookup during this cold holiday season.

“W-Well, I’ve been out of the dating game for two years. I’m over thirty, less fussy, and can look beyond bad sex. I mean, I went from having a hot girl summer to a lonely heart winter, okay,” I shout at my friends who are staring at me like I lost my mind over these past few days. Maybe they weren’t wrong, and after spending over eight hours cyberstalking men, I did possibly belong in a straitjacket in a room that consisted of padded walls, but I just didn’t want to be lonely at these Christmas parties. I desperately needed a holiday date!

“So, let’s hear it,” Shayla yells as she drains her Gingerbread Martini and places an order for Grinch Margaritas. I avert my eyes from hers and pick imaginary fuzz off of my fur jacket. I pretend not to hear her question. Shayla then bumps my shoulder, and exasperatedly asks, “Well, who are these men from Christmas Past? Let us hear this list. Girl, don’t play us!”

I let out a nervous giggle and say, “Well, need another round of shots, or three. It’s a list of eight men I might have accumulated.”

“Damn Ava,” they all gasp in unison and then flag our cocktail waitress down to order more drinks.

“Oh, fuck no! Not the guy with the monster dick. Didn’t you even name him Jackhammering Monster Cock,” Kenzie questions drunkenly. She wasn’t wrong. I did nickname him Jackhammering Monster Cock because he was one of my worst sexual partners of all time.

“Oh girl, it sounds like there’s a story there. I can’t remember it; so, tell us again about this man that’s obviously hung like a horse,” Shayla slurs as she drains another Christmas cocktail.  My mind slips back to six years ago as I began telling them the story. This was one of the craziest sex days of my life!

Jackhammering Monster Cock

I lay on the bed, enduring one of our many hookups. This gorgeous man was always really into our sex, even though I hated it. He was one of those men that didn’t know women needed two things: a warm-up to penetration or that the clitoris was an essential part of the woman’s anatomy. This guy also had a really strict policy of not going to chow town on a woman.  But, of course, he was game for sloppy deepthroat; so, I got absolutely no foreplay, and he told me that he didn’t perform oral sex on women when I finally asked him to go downtown on me this particular night. I rolled my eyes at him, finding it funny he failed to mention that to me after my many nights of suffering through giving head to a man whose dick barely fit in my mouth. I was so over it that I just starfished it that night at this point of our hookups.

It’s not that my position mattered anyways because each time, he’d slather his dick in lube and just go to town on my pussy. That night I learned that his one move of missionary-style jackhammering my pussy wasn’t for me. But, when I tried to rush out of there that final night, he begged me to stay so he could feel like a “gentleman.” So, I did. Under the misconception, we’d at least finally cuddle. Boy, was I stupid! He lay on the couch while I lay alone in his big queen-sized bed. I snuck out of his bed mid-morning with a sore vagina and screened all his calls and left all his text messages unread.

Lily cracked up from across the table in an uncontrollable fit of laughter that brought me back to reality. Kenzie shook her head and took slow sips of her cocktail as Shayla shook her head in disgust. Based on their responses and after the memory of that final night, I mentally scratched his name off my list.

“Yeah. Shit! That was a bad hookup story,” I laughed as I drained my frozen Grinch margarita.

“Aw, honey. I can’t think of anyone worse than that,” Kenzie said as she rested her face in her hands. She did that because she was suffering from secondhand embarrassment for me.

“Oh no. I think she’s told me the worst! What about the dude that would fly you out to all those places and then couldn’t last,” Lily ask as she sucks on the candy cane that garnished her peppermint martini.

“Shit! He’s on my list. Mr. World Traveler Minute Man,” I drunkenly giggle. Both Kenzie and Shayla’s mouths gape open like fish as I dive into another crazy sex story. I channel myself back to that last vacation I took with him about four years ago.

The World Traveler Minute Man

After our trip to Miami, Florida, I decided to end our hookups. He was a marketing consultant; so, he could charge it to his work expense account. It was one of the perks of his job and all of the traveling he did in his profession. Therefore, he’d fly me out all over the world to wine and dine me. Next, we’d go to the hotel room, and he’d strip me naked and spread my legs as I lay at the bottom of the bed. Then, he’d given me the worst head of my life for the millionth and final time. He ate me out so roughly that I’d start at the end of the bed, and I’d end up at the headboard. It was so rough, and I believed he mistakenly thought my moans of pain were cries of pleasure.

 After that final night, I remembered that his “head” left my pussy swollen for the next few days. Once he finished violently eating me out, he met me at the headboard and straddled me across his body. We began passionately making out, and I started grinding my hips across his because my core was so hot and wet for his dick. Well, like every time we got started after my body grazed against his dick, he’d blow his load in his boxers. Every. Single. Time. My World Traveler Minute Man would jizz in his pants in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. After a few days, he flew me back to Seattle, and I never contacted him again.

“Poor thing,” our cocktail waitress chimed in as she cleared off the empty glasses and delivered us another round of drinks. I felt myself slump down in my seat, even more, embarrassed about my terrible sex life. I slowly sip on my cocktail as I start to feel my buzz hit from the festive booze we’d been drinking for the past hour and a half.

“I’m with our waitress, girl. Scratch his name off the list,” Shayla said with a tease in her voice.

“Oh, that’s not the worst sex she’s had! How do you think she’s so damn good at writing those naughty fantasy stories,” Kenzie chimed in as I watched her take a gulp of water. Kenzie had a tiny frame and was a total lightweight. Which at that moment made me smirk since her big mouth was outing me to the others about my terrible past sexual experiences.

“So, ladies,” I drag out loudly as a goofy smile crosses my face. As I get their attention, I take a long pause to intake more alcohol. I wanted to leave them hanging but needed the liquid courage for the next hoe tale. I ask, “Have you ever heard of Emetophilia?”

“Um, no! What the fuck is that,” Lily questions as her eyes bug out of her head and she leans in from across the table.

“Oh sheeeittt. My girl is about to go there,” Kenzie laughs obnoxiously.

“So, I’m definitely not trying to yuck anyone’s yum. But I had a few hookups with a  guy who enjoyed vomit play. He craved it and needed it to get off,” I exclaim as I watch Shayla fake gag out of the corner of my eye. I launch into this story about the guy I nicknamed Mr. Emetophilia officer.

Mr. Emetophilia Officer

I had matched on Hinge with the sexiest police officer I’d ever seen. He was like the officers from Chicago P.D. hot! I kept wondering to myself how the fuck was he single. Then, we had our first sexual encounter. He loved taking me out for large dinners and inviting me back to his apartment to exchange oral sex. That first night he had me sit beside him in a thong and nothing else as he toyed with my nipples and had me take his dick as far down my throat as possible. Once my mouth touched his balls, he’d fuck my mouth until I had tears in my eyes, and his dick was coated in my vomit. That’s when I learned Mr. Detective had a vomit kink and needed it to reach climax. His Emetophilia was something I could look past for a few months because he was semi-decent in bed and an overall nice guy, but the night I decided to call it quits was one of the craziest situations I’d ever had while fucking a dude.

The detective asked me to suck on his dick and get it sloppy wet for lube because he wanted to do anal. Well, his idea of lube for anal was my vomit. He had me vomit on his dick and then begged for me to let him stick it in my ass, as he tried to convince me that vomit was a good source of “lube.”

Shayla’s dry heaving and loud gulps of water brought me back from my memories. I finished telling the story, “I have never gotten dressed so fast in my fucking life. I hightailed it out of there so quick; I don’t think he even knows where he went wrong!” Kenzie let out a loud laugh, and I just held my head down in pretend shame.

“Dang. That’s worse than the story you told me about the guy who only wanted to do outercourse,” Shayla stated, shaking her head.

“Wait. What’s wrong with outercourse,” Lily asked slowly, kicking back a shot, then looking at me with wide green eyes in anticipation.

“There’s nothing wrong with outercourse. It’s how he went about it,” I laughed loudly. Wow! They definitely help my list of possible holiday date candidates dwindle. So, I launch into my story about my Erogenous Outercourse King.

The Erogenous Outercourse King

This gentleman piqued my interest when he told me he could make me have the best orgasms of my life without penetration and clitoral stimulation. Boy, was my young dumb ass intrigued! Well, he definitely didn’t have a clue about how to please a woman. This man only liked to fuck me in non-traditional ways. He had convinced me of ridiculous lies that clitoral tissue was in various places in a woman’s body. Also, he told me he could expand my knowledge on erogenous zones that were pleasure spots outside of the vulva. This is definitely true, and I definitely believed him the first night we fucked. He played with my breasts with his teeth, tongue, and mouth until my nipples were so sensitive and so erect. Then he titty fucked me until we both came. This was a completely crazy experience for me because I had never just come from breast stimulation.

But that was the limit of his expertise! He then began lubing up his mediocre-sized dick and fucking me in insane places like my armpits, behind my knees, or in between my butt cheeks. I was young, dumb, and built up with sexual frustration. So, I didn’t know how to deal with the awkwardness of the situation; so, I gave him false encouragement. I would fake orgasms and pretend like he was stimulating erogenous zones until I finally just got over it.

Our cocktail waitress had taken a seat midway through my story and laughed along with us as we all began talking about wild hookups and crazy sex acts.

“I mean, the closer I got to thirty, I began having better sex, and those are the last four men on my list. I’m considering,” I drunkenly say as I feel my words slur. We had stopped our alcohol intake and began drinking water to help decrease the possible hangovers.

“If your last Master, or Sir, or Dom, or whatever the fuck he is to you is on that list. Then just go ahead and cross his ass off,” Shayla said furiously. I felt a sharp pain in my heart because he was on my list. He was the last name. I had gone over and over in my head if I should reach out to him and grovel for him to take me back. He was the alpha of all Sirs. My last Dom introduced me to the amazing pleasure and pain exchange of a true BDSM lifestyle. Stupidly, I had relinquished all control and let that man dominate every aspect of my life. He spoiled me, punished me, rewarded me, shamed me, and pampered me.

“He was so amazing, though! He was nice, caring, and he was the most delicious sex of my life!  We fucked in every way imaginable. He used sex swings, restraints, and he introduced me to the Sybian,” I cried. I desperately missed his dick between my legs and felt lust rush through my body, making me so hot and so wet between my thighs.

“Girl, he just has you dickmatized. His dick was just so ‘Woah damn’ you’re willing to do the unthinkable for it,” Lily exclaimed as she grabbed my hand once again.

“I mean, think about it, Ava. You felt the same way about the guy who had that breasts fetish and let you peg him,” Kenzie blurted out as I rolled my eyes at her. She mouthed sorry my way as she slapped her hand over her lips. Before the other two girls could even ask, I went ahead and launched into this great and empowering sex story about my Breasts Fetish Submissive.

Breasts Fetish Submissive

This man was a boss in EVERY aspect of his life but enjoyed playing my little bitch in the bedroom. He enjoyed degradation, humiliation, and pain play. He worshiped my breasts and played with them every chance he got, and anywhere he desired. He brought me to so many orgasms just from breast play. We’d used nipple clamps, and he’d engorge them with a suction toy and introduced me to so many erotic things in the bedroom. My biggest turn-on and the craziest way he’d make me wet my panties was when he’d call me Mommy. Our last hookup together, I paddled his ass until it was a stinging and sexy red. That day after five rounds of earth-shattering sex, I placed on my strap-on and pegged him in his ass until he called me daddy. I learned I enjoyed being dominant in the bed, and he empowered me sexually to take more control in the bedroom with men.

“Wow, that made me fucking wet just listening to the story,” the cocktail waitress said as she dropped off another round of shots. I start to laugh as she walks to the following table to check on them.

“Damn, girl! I don’t know why you were even considering those first five clowns. If you decide to reach out to anyone, it should be him,” Lily shouts over the music. We pick up the candy cane shots that the waitress just dropped off at our table. We toss them back and decide to make our way to the dance floor. My best friends and I drunkenly grind and sloppily-twerk on one another to try to burn off some of the alcohol.

Thot Shit by Meg thee Stallion starts to play as we laugh and grind hard on one another. Meg thee Stallion brings out the hottie and freak of any girl, especially on the dance floor. As I sway to the beat of the music, it reminds me of the last guy on my list that I was able to track down. He was One Mean Eating Machine. I let the music overtake my body as I get lost in my thoughts about my hooks up with this man.

One Mean Eating Machine

He explained that he had injured his penis during his youth. This injury had caused it to shape in a peculiar way that made him ashamed to show it to women. Therefore, he had mastered going downtown on a woman. Every time this man fucked me, he devoured my pussy until I dripped puddles all over his bed. My One Mean Eating Machine gave me the most incredible foreplay of my life! He would not only use his mouth, but he used vibrators and dildos, making me so wet and so hot that I felt as if my body sprung a leak every time I orgasmed. HOWEVER, he was not lying about his dick being a peculiar shape. Eventually, he became comfortable enough with me to show me his dick. It made me understand why he had mastered the ability of foreplay and cunnilingus. His dick was curved like a fucking corkscrew. His dick’s shape took the meaning of Meg thee Stallions’ Captain Hook to a “new meaning.” Although his dick was the oddest shape I’d ever seen, he was able to stimulate every pleasure spot as he penetrated my hot wet core. This Mean Eating Machine gave me multiple orgasms because of his manhood's curvature, length, and girth. Damn! He was great sex!

Coming back to reality, I didn’t know if it was being encased in all the bodies on the dance floor or the steamy sexual flashback I had, but I was burning up! I make my way back to our table to cool down and drink some water. Shortly after I left the dance floor, the other girls came back to the table to drink water and cool off, as well.

“Do you have any other sexy stories to tell us,” Lily asked with mischief in her eyes.

“Yes! I’m living vicariously through your sex life,” Shayla yells drunkenly, smacking me on my shoulder. I think about the guy I dated for a year that went down in my books as amazing sex. I could not locate him on social media because I didn’t know his real identity or anything about him. He was a Man of Mystery, and I even would call him my Man of Mystique. We would meet at random fine dining restaurants, luxury hotels, boats, and even art shows to hook up for the night. My Man of Mystique would send packages to my home with the roleplaying theme of the night, an address of the place to meet him, and a wild outfit that fit the occasion. We’d show up to the designated spot, play our characters, and he’d fuck me stupid. He loved to make our sex match the theme of our characters, whether a maid and a businessman, a burglar and a cop or a schoolgirl and the headmaster. The longer we played together, the more kinkier, adventurous, and wild our sex became over the months. Then, he just poofs and disappears.

“You’re wearing that goofy grin. So, you must have at least one hot sex story left in you, baby doll,” Kenzie purrs as her Asian glow had become bright red. I shake my head and begin to clench my thighs as horniness consumes me. All these memories of my past sex life were causing me to become hot and bothered.

“The guy was a man of mystery. So, I’ve decided to keep this story to myself. Sorry ladies,” I respond deviously. I desperately needed to get home and find a vibrator to work out my built-up sexual tension. I waved the waiter over for the check.

“It’s already been taken care of by the gentlemen at the bar, ladies. He saw you ladies come in and added all your drinks to his tab,” our cocktail waitress winks and points over to the man at the bar. My best friends and I crane our necks to look at this man. Our jaws drop to the table as we take in the beauty of this generous stranger.

We all hold our breath as he makes his way towards our table. I feel like his beautiful dark eyes are burning a hole into my skin as he approaches. He stops in front of our table, oozing confidence, dominance, and, most importantly, sex appeal. I feel my mouth water, and my nipples become pert from the sexual energy he radiates. He lifts my hand off the table and kisses it causing me to shiver in sexual want.

“I should have come over here sooner. I see you beautiful women are ready to leave,” He states. His eyes never leave mine, and he begins to massage my hand lightly.

I feel Shayla’s knee bump mine under the table. She sends me a friendly reminder to answer this gorgeous man. I scramble to try to formulate a sentence and answer him coyly, “Yes. We were just about to grab an Uber.”

“That’s unacceptable, ladies. Don’t waste your time with rideshare. Allow me to get you, ladies, home in one of my cars. I have a driver,” the beautiful stranger purrs.

Before I can answer, Lily responds, “Are you sure? We don’t want to hassle you.”

“Not at all, ladies,” he says sternly. He pulls me to my feet and tucks me into his arm. The beautiful man pulls me against his hard muscular warm body and puts his hand around my slender waist. I feel Kenzie wink at me out of the corner of my eye. We walk towards the bar exit, and my mouth falls open like a fish as a sleek limousine pulls to the curb. Who the fuck is this handsome stranger?

Kenzie and I live the farthest from the bar and are the last two left in the limo with the gorgeous man. Luca. His name is Luca. Shayla was the only one smart enough to ask this stranger his name. His hand lazily rubs against my arm making me shiver lust. The limo stops in front of Kenzie’s apartment, and she hesitates to get out of the car.

“Will you be okay, or do you want to get out with me,” She questions sternly, not wanting to leave me alone with this sexy, strange man.

“She’ll be fine,” he responds to my best friend. “I’ll remind her to call you once I get her safely home.” Even though Luca answers for me, Kenzie being the bad bitch and protective best friend, doesn’t back down.

“It’ll be fine, Kenzie. I do have my taser,” I respond, and Kenzie and I both laugh as Luca doesn’t even flinch at the remark.

Kenzie moves towards the door to exit the limo and turns back, and demands, “You call me and let me know you’re alive, babe.” I kiss her on the cheek and nod. She then steps out of the limo, and the car door slams behind her.

“I’m happy you have such protective friends, but they don’t need to protect you from me. While I want to play with you, I’d never force myself on a woman or abuse her in any way,” he whispers loudly. His dark and raspy voice heats my skin and feels like a gentle caress against my ear. I turn to look at his face, and my eyes slide over his dark thick wavy hair that flops in an unruly curl on his forehead. I admire his chiseled jaw covered in a nicely groomed thick black beard. He has beautiful full lips begging to be kissed. With his mouth inches away from mine, I imagine what his mouth would look like glistening with my juices of arousal.

“Then let’s play,” I hear myself respond as I pull on the collar of his open white button-down and bring his mouth crashing down on mine. Our tongues tangle, and our lips meet as he kisses my breath away. This kiss is filled with passion and lust that I haven’t experienced in a while. Even towards the end of my time with my Sir, he didn’t kiss me like a man possessed by sexual need. Luca nibbles on my bottom lip and then instructs his driver to take us to his home.

“Are you sure about this,” he asks with an intense gaze. “I like to fuck hard, and I’m far from what many call vanilla.”

My mouth goes slack, and I feel my body’s sexual response to his request. My body knows I desperately need a good hard and fast fuck. I give him a tiny smile, and I respond, “Abso-fucking-lute-ly. Please give me all that you got! Make me fucking come so hard that I forget my own damn name!” He lets out a hearty chuckle, and his lips caress my throat. His mouth peppers kisses all over my neck, and he slides his tongue to trace my earlobe. He gently sucks my earlobe into his mouth, making me moan in pleasure. Luca traces his tongue down my body making me feel hot ribbons of passion ripple over my skin. He sucks my right nipple through the lace of my bodysuit. It’s so erotic, and it’s in timing with how he teases my left nipple. Luca makes my brain hazy with sexual want as his hands roam my body and his warm wet mouth worships my breasts. I feel an orgasm build in my body, and I pull his head closer to me, desperate for release.

He yanks away, making me angry as he places a finger to my lips and says, “I’ll claim your orgasm when you’re begging for it in my bed.” Those words alone make me bite my lip to force me not to come apart in the back of his limousine. At that moment, I realize the limo has come to a complete stop in front of a luxury apartment building with a doorman. Luca picks me up out of the back seat bridal style and rushes through the open door. I’ve never seen an apartment’s building lobby look so luxurious. Damn, what did this man do for a living?

We get into an elevator, and he doesn’t put me down. He holds me tightly to his chest as the elevator ascends to the top floor. The elevator doors open to the entrance of a massive condo with a panoramic view of Seattle. I can’t get a great view of his living room as he carries me into his bedroom and drops me on top of his large king-size bed.

“Get undressed. Strip for me, baby,” he says, his voice roughened with a thick Spanish accent, I just now notice. My hands shake as I remove my thigh-high suede boots and then remove my black leather pants. My eyes never leave his body as I watch him undress. His chest is broad, his biceps are big and bulging, and his body tapers into a muscular abdomen. My mouth goes dry as my eyes roam over his tented boxers that barely contain his colossal arousal. I quickly shrug out of my black fur jacket and shimmy out my lace bodysuit. I stand next to his bed and wait for him to tell me what to do next. I decide to go with what I know best, and I drop to my knees with my thighs slightly parted. His nostrils flare, and his eyes widen as I get into the position of an obedient submissive.

He lifts my chin to meet his gaze, and he gently applies pressure; so, I have no choice but to stand on my feet. He kisses my mouth hard, making my nipples pebble, and desire pool between my thighs. Luca rips his mouth from mine and says, “I’m going to bind you to my bed. If it becomes too much for you, just say “no” at any time, and I will stop, okay?” I nod my head, realizing he’s not using a safe word or the stoplight system. He’s willing just to honor the word no, which makes me more at ease of jumping into a submissive role with a stranger. I follow his command, and I lay on his large soft bed and watch as he ties me to all four bedposts with black satin ribbons. Luca pulls a red satin blindfold out of his nightstand and covers my eyes with it.

Luca straddles my head with his thighs and demands for me to open my mouth. He then thrust his large erect dick into my mouth. I savor the taste of him as I explore his manhood with my skilled tongue and warm wet mouth. I drooled for a taste of his dick when he first approached my friends and me in the bar. Luca ravages my mouth with his dick. He takes pleasure from my lips as I taste his manhood. He tastes like the sweetest dessert. Sweet. Musky. Tart. I swirl my tongue around the head of his enormous dick as he kneels over me, thrusting into my mouth, hard and fast. I suck the life out of him through his engorged manhood until he lets out a loud growl of pleasure—his tasty semen squirts to the back of my throat. Without question, I swallow his tart seed like the good submissive I am.

I am greedy with sexual hunger as he crawls down my body, utilizing his mouth to tease, nip, and lick every sensitive part of my body. By the time he reaches my pussy that is so aroused and so wet for him. My entire body is on fire and craving Luca’s dick to be buried deep inside of me. He opens the lips of my sex wide and my back arches in sexual want as his mouth encircles my swollen clitoris. I let out a deep moan of lust as his lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers go to town on my pussy. His mouth fucks my pussy with a mastery I never ever experienced in my life. I tug and pull on the restraints as he coaxes every ounce of sexual need and want out of me. His mouth brings me to a mind-blowing climax that leaves me seeing stars.

I feel him get off the bed and kiss my lips, leaving me with the taste of my arousal. Luca whispers, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab something you’ll enjoy, mi amor.”

I lay weak and satiated on the bed as I await his return. I love sensory deprivation during sex. It makes me so much more aroused and allows me to relax and only focus on the pleasures of my body. I feel an all too familiar cool leather object lightly caress my body. It was a riding crop. My body begins to stir with sexual excitement again as he slaps my clitoris with the toy. I feel myself jerk in reaction to the sharp painful bite of the crop, but then I pant in pleasure as my body ignites with desire, once again. He uses the crop to work me into my second orgasm as he taps it against my nipples, peppers my stomach with slaps and caresses my clitoris with it.

“Taste your sweet orgasm for me, mi amor. I love how your body is so responsive to me. Now, I’m going to fuck your pretty pussy and claim you as mine,” Luca whispers in my ear as I suck on the riding crop, tasting the remains of my salty arousal. I feel him untie my ankles and massage feeling back into them. Then he places himself between my thighs and holds my ankles in the air beside his ears. His actions make my body roll up to my shoulder blades, and he entered me hard and fast. I let out a whimper of sexual bliss as my heated core accommodates his giant dick. He slowly pulls out and pushes into me hard. Stroke after stroke of his giant dick massages the inside of my hot wet pussy. He begins pounding my pussy hard and fast, and the only thing I can hear in the room is flesh against flesh. I feel him stroke my clitoris and feel his seed squirt into me as I scream out in a climax so strong I fall into a dark abyss of sexual delight.

I stand in the most exquisite ballroom of a private home that I’ve ever seen. I had decided to go solo to both Christmas parties this year, and it hadn’t been a bad idea. Maybe that fantastic night of hot sex was all I needed for Luca to knock some sense into me. Kenzie had dressed me in a tight mini off-the-shoulder black velvet cocktail gown that showed a generous amount of cleavage and made my short legs look longer when paired with a pair of black heels. I wore sheer black thigh-high stockings with a seam in the back, making the look tastefully sexy. Kenzie had curled and pinned my auburn hair to one side in an old Hollywood glam style. She left the makeup natural with a red lip to add a pop of color to my appearance. I felt like a sexy black woman, and I knew I was working my black girl magic as I schmoozed the room of authors, editors, and media executives.

My diamond chandelier earrings swing around my neck as I turn over my shoulder to watch my literary agent, Patricia Connolly, an older white woman, comes barreling towards me. She grabs me by both of my hands enthusiastically as her wide grin of excitement spread across her face. I grin back at her nervously and wait for her to calm down to tell me what has her smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“Ava Jones. Ms. Ava Jones! Dante Santiago wants to speak with you,” Mrs. Connolly screams as she pulls me out of the crowded ballroom. I turn to her when we make it to a private corner away from everyone, and my mind searches hard, trying to place the familiarity of that name.

“Aha! I remember now. Is he the Brazilian Media Mogul? Why on earth would he want to speak to me,” I ask, anxiously holding in my breath.

“He owns the publishing house, and he likes meeting with any new authors he thinks might be a success. He may think this book could lead to licensed products, a television series, or even, movies. We need to move quickly to his office,” Mrs. Connolly rambles her response as she drags me through the mansion and up the stairs to a closed wooden door. She knocks hard to make our presence known, and we wait until we hear a stern voice commanding our entrance.

We enter into a big, sleek modern office that doesn’t fit the warm, homey feeling of the rest of the mansion. This is a state-of-the-art office you would expect to see in any high-rise office building in downtown Seattle. Not in one of the many gorgeous mansions of King County. An older gentleman stands near the door that warmly greets us, and a dark-haired man is seated behind the desk. He stares intensely at his laptop, and I feel my breath catch in my throat as we move closer to his desk.

I see a flicker of shock cross his gaze, but he quickly recovers. He masks his expressions into a warm greeting of Mrs. Connolly and me. He stands and hugs Mrs. Connolly and whispers something into her ear. She gives him a sharp nod, and she smiles at me as she follows the man near the door out of his office.

“Ms. Ava Jones,” Dante says as he sits on the edge of his desk and gestures for me to take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of him.

I take a seat, and our dark glares clash with one another, and I snarl, “Luca. You told me your name was Luca that night. You lied to me.” His cheeks fluster, and his hard, muscular body becomes rigid like a stone statue. I twiddle my thumbs and bite my lip in fear of retribution from talking out of terms of the man that holds the rights to my dream and the betterment of my livelihood, but when his gaze lands and wanders slowly over my body, all I feel is sexual desire consumes me.

“I didn’t lie. Those close to me call me Luca. My name is Dante Lucas Santiago. People usually recognize me by my name; so, I don’t use Dante often. Especially when it comes to personal life matters,” he responds vehemently as his eyes rest on my cleavage. He shoves his hands in his pocket and exclaims, “Damn. This is a small world, and I don’t mix business with pleasure-“

“There is no mixing of business and pleasure. When you dropped me off at my apartment, I didn’t text the number you gave me and didn’t plan on it. There’s nothing between us,” I fire back at him, sitting up more straight and confident. His eyes narrow into black slits, and he runs his hand through his unruly hair, making me clench my thighs together out of sexual excitement.

“We fucked, either way. Therefore, I consider it a conflict,” he growls. Luca moves across the desk lightning fast and traps me in the chair. He leers intimidatingly over me as he growls through his teeth, “So, I’m giving you two choices. Either you can come around, which I know you will, to be my mistress and the book deal goes away, or you write it under a pseudonym.”

“But w-why,” I ask as my eyes feel with tears and my shoulders slump in defeat. He takes a deep breath and picks me up out of the chair, and sits back down with me. I find comfort in his warmth as he wipes the tears from my eyes with his thumb.

“I’m a powerful man and can’t have someone in my company getting deals that I’ve slept with, or I’m fucking. You’ll have to sign an NDA, and I buy you out of your contract; then we see where our relationship goes, or you sign an NDA about our relationship, and you write your book in anonymity. The second option allows you to get your amazing work out there but, I can’t chance a picture of us going public from that night or morning, and you being seen as an author of my company. I’m sorry, mi amor,” Luca expresses as he gently kisses my temple.

So, I had the option of letting go of a dream and being some man’s kept woman.

Or I lose the recognition, the public love, and fame of writing a potential best-seller by doing so in anonymity.

Luca tilted my chin up towards his face; so, my eyes would meet his gaze and ask, “So, what’s it going to be, mi amor?”

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