SEXY ROMANCE: Her Dark Obsession (4 page)

“Oh shit…” he said, laying back and fearing the worst.  “I think it’s my wife.  She’s home early.”

“Oh I see…”

My heart raced and I felt a pang of shame.  But that didn’t stop me from finishing the crime I had already committed.  I continued sucking on him, and cupping his balls hard, just as angry at him as I was turned on my new experience.

“Huhhh…” he gasped in a panic. 

“Honey are you in the bedroom?”

“Y-Yes…yes, just…getting something…”

I sucked him harder, eager to make him scream and to expose his secret to the mystery woman outside.

“W-Wait!” he said, both to her and to me in once voice.  “Don’t come in here…I have a surprise for you.  I don’t want you to spoil the surprise.”

He smiled at me, but for only a moment.  The both of us were a bit guilted at the game, especially since his happy wife seemed so eager to learn what the “surprise” was.

I handstroked him off until he came on his bedroom floor, suppressing a scream and biting his lower lip hard. 

After he came, he didn’t sneer or laugh, as was his custom.  Instead he look broken, probably feeling lower than dirt.  Probably disappointed that his fantasy of cheating wasn’t as intense as he hoped for.  I waited while he exited the bedroom, after pulling up his pants, and met his wife.  I overheard their married banter…

“Come on downstairs, I’ll show you down there.”

That was my cue to exit.  At least he had the decency to remove me from his house without endangering my life.  Then, as I was quickly running down the staircase and reaching for the front door, a peculiar thought occurred to me.

This was all my fault.  Men are all pigs, sure, I knew that.  Of course, all married men want to cheat on their wives.  Of course, they would endanger a healthy marriage for a little bit of extra female attention.

But the woman who says Yes, is always the villain.  She’s the one truly accountable.  The woman who lowers her standards to meet these lonely guys, she is the slut, the bad guy, the one who truly deserves comeuppance.  Because she ought to know better.

**

April

              “So the loveless nature of the act is what intrigued you?”

              “Yes.  The fact that he probably loved his wife, but not me, seemed to be the emotion of the day.” 

              “The fact that he was taken, the fact that he didn’t want to fall in love with you, that was the attraction.  He treated you like something beneath them?  He talked about a soul mate.  And yet, you weren’t his soul mate.  Were you?”

              “It was the most selfish thing I ever did.  Pure selfish pleasure, the taking of something from someone who didn’t deserve it.  I tried to be stubborn and say no.  That it felt wrong.  I even told him no at the beginning.  But breaking my own promise…that seemed to be the biggest turn on of all.”

              “Eroticism comes from within.  You cannot control the attraction you feel.  By trying to contain it, to limit it, to put boundaries on it, you remove every enticement.”

              “Why is good sex so evil?  And why is love so boring?” I had to wonder aloud. 

Brody was his name.  He had a charming way of speaking and what I can only describe as a strong sense of entitlement.  He wasn’t nice, nor a brute.  Simply a man higher on the food chain, if you understand the metaphor.  A self-professed multi-millionaire.  I met by chance after saying Yes to an advertisement for a Millionaire Dating Website. 

I really don’t see how some men “fake it”, because the aura of a rich man fills the air around him.  He doesn’t ask for anything.  He doesn’t need any of it.  Yet, his attention is always the most important thing to those he meets.  Brody’s face was chiseled, cleanly shaven and with daunting, aggressive eyes.  When he smiled at me, it was if a king, a warrior, had spared my life.  His long dark hair, and forty-year-old vibrant face was a nice contrast to the boys I had been entertaining myself with.

I instantly knew the attraction with Brody, just as I know it with all men who have that sense of entitlement.  They not only don’t need me…they don’t want me.  And my eagerness to please defines the relationship. 

Just like with Brody.  He didn’t want sex.  He could have had sex with me, or a younger woman, or the both of us.  But what he found most interesting was what I really didn’t want to talk about.

“I don’t really like talking about the old me,” I said uncertainly, still trying to tempt him with my cleavage.  Sitting back at a fancy restaurant, the kind of place where drinks are $30 a shot, I felt out of place…and because of that, magnetically attracted to him as my spirit guide into this new soulless world. 

“I’m sure you don’t,” he said with a smile.  “That’s why it’s amusing.  Why are you running away from who you used to be?”

I downed another drink, getting rid of my anxiety.  “Because I tried it the way everyone told me to.  My whole life I tried it that way.  And I wasn’t happy.”

“What is happiness if not the temporary reduction of misery?  My theory is that you want this.  But no, you don’t actually crave the pleasure.  You want to sink lower.  Into the depths of Hell.  You want to hit rock bottom.  Only so you can crawl your way back up from the slums and go back to that high moral pedestal that you think defines you.”

I grinned in disdain.  He hated me, I hated him, and yet the attraction never relented.  “So you think I’m just trying to hurt myself with all of this?”

“Yes.  Pain is the only reason we seek happiness in the first place.”

“Damn,” I said with a laugh and sneer.  “I think all your money had eaten away at your compassion.”

“Maybe.  But that’s not the question here.  The question is you, Regina.  Why are so afraid of pleasure?  Why can’t you simply follow your cravings, without making it a game of punishment, with the YES rule?”

“If you think I’m afraid of selfish pleasure…” I said, meeting his eyes in challenge.  Then just try me.  Get down on your knees, rich man.  And taste me.  Let me control you.  Let me be your sugar baby.”

He laughed.  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not in the market to buy.  I get all my eggs for free.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you intrigue me.  Your lack of purpose in life, your self-imposed exile, I find interesting.”

“And do you find me attractive?”

“All women are attractive.  Our primate instincts ensure that we feel strong attraction, with a degree of health.”

“But do you find me beautiful?”

“Well, you meet the minimum qualifications.  You have perky breasts.  A nice smile.  A thin body with long legs.”

I felt agitated and reached over, pulling his tie closer to me.  “Do you want to fuck me?  Yes or no?”

“No, I don’t,” he said, losing his smile and glaring at me until I stopped misbehaving.  I sat back down in my seat and folded my arms.  “Now that we got that out of the way…”

“Well,” I started to pout suddenly letting all my daddy issues out.  “If you don’t like me, why am I even here?”

“You’re here because I told you to come here.  Isn’t that right?”  He took another drink and blew on a cigar relaxing himself.  “This adventure, this experiment, it’s all about you losing control.  It’s about you surrendering, not necessarily to a man.  But to your own sense of immorality.  It’s rather quaint.  Because the reality, Regina, is that there is no such thing as morality.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Your mission of hitting rock bottom, only to realize the error of your ways, later on is ridiculous.  Because it’s all based on an illusion of you learning something.  But the truth is, it’s all about self loathing and self-punishment.

“You don’t think I’m capable of learning?”

“Of course not.  But don’t feel bad.  Very few people in life ever learn anything.  They just go through the motions.”

I pouted, feeling the wine going to my head and starting to drift to sleep. 

“The good news is that I can help you.  Since this mission is all about shattering taboos, and your obsessive quest to hurt yourself, I can one up you.  I can help you reach the very bottom, where you belong.”

I laughed in his face and took another drink.  “You’re kind of a prick, you know that?  What makes you think I’m not enjoying this?  Maybe this is all just another case of, Big Strong Man can’t handle a woman’s selfish sexuality.  She has to be hitting the depths of despair.  She can’t possibly be enjoying this.”

“Believe me, Regina.  If you want to suffer I can make you suffer.  If you want pleasure, I can give you pleasure.  But I don’t think even you know what you want.”

“I know what I want,” I snapped back.

“Yes.  And I said no.  Because I don’t want you.”

His continual rejection of me only filled me with sexual rage.  No matter what he said, I just wanted him more.  He knew it and enjoyed keeping me on slow boil.

“But since you like to take orders so much…”

“Do I?”

“I want you to take off your panties right now.”

“Right now?  Like…in the bathroom…”

“No.  Take them off right now.  And put them on the table.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.  You don’t have to cause a scene.  But to be honest…I kind of hope you do.  It’s more fun that way.”

I glared at him in hatred…utter contempt.  Just as I began slowly, subtly, pulling my legs apart and pulling down my panties.  I looked around the room, making sure no one else saw me.  A few diners turned their head, as if they knew something was up.  I played it quietly…pulling only inch by inch. 

“Faster,” he commanded, enjoying staring into my frightened eyes.  “Unless you want our experiment to end, and to pay for the tab yourself…you’ll do it.  And do it now.”

“I pulled down faster, looking down briefly and making sure they slid past my heels.  I fake coughed so that I could lean down and scoop them up.

“Put them on the table.”

I recklessly tossed them on the table, right on top of his $100 glass of wine.  He half-smiled, not even flinching—and not even when the waiter came over and made the discovery.

“Oh,” he said.  “I don’t think that’s on the menu,” he said with a nervous laugh.  “I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

              Brody passed him another c-note, encouraging him to forget what he saw.

“Right.  Okay, that’ll work then.  Let me know if you two kids need anything else.”

Brody smiled as the waiter nervously wandered away from the scene.

“The night is still young, Regina.  I want you to come with me to a party.”

“I’m kind of exhausted.”

He stared me down.  “I said I want you to come with me to a party.  It’s not a tavern.  It’s a very elite club.  And one that I think can help you with your spiritual mission.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked him, raising my eyebrow. 

“Do you want these back?” he asked, putting my underwear in his black coat pocket. 

**

Oh my dear friend.  Here is where the narrative gets strange.  I know you have a weak stomach sometimes.  And I know that you remember me as someone different, someone not like the woman I am talking about.  But I simply must confess my unmentionable affairs to someone.  Living with the secret has been taking its toll on me.

The whole thing started very innocently, with Brody introducing me to various men and women at this very elite, very ritzy club.  To my surprise, there was no music or entertainment.  A few people were wearing masks, but no one seemed to know where the party was.

But the joke was on me, I’m afraid.  Everyone knew what the place was except for me.  I trusted Brody to let me in on the secret.  I sat patiently.  I said hello to many people who were very pleasant and seemed very intrigued to know me.

“Hello, beautiful miss,” said one man with a foreign accent.

“Greetings, my lady,” one man said, with his wife, who was just as jazzed to meet me.

“My best, Cherie,” said a talk dark and handsome man, whose close lipped smile was both scary and promising.

I had never met so many friendly people who seemed so precocious and coy about getting to know me.  If I didn’t know better, I could swear they were all flirting with me.  All of them…

“What is this place, Brody?  I still don’t understand.  Is there music or…?”

“You’ll learn in good time, Regina.”

“And now the bidding will start.”

“Come, Regina.  Let’s go get a drink.”

Brody took me by the hand and led me away from the event.  I was curious about the bidding game.  But he promptly took me aside, guiding me by the hand, to a corridor that connected to the stage.  To my surprise, he then guided me from the darkened hallway, through the curtains, and out to the main stage.  There, I stared out into the auditorium and saw…

A roomful of smiling, leering and greedy-minded strangers.  The same ones I met from earlier, this time, staring at me in wide eyed enthrallment.  

“Our first slave up for bid is ____ ______.”  My real name.  Oh God, they used my real name!  I was horrified at that moment.  My stomach fluttered and began crawling its way up into my throat.