Oral Dilemma: Jam

  Roxanne has been buried in grief so long she's lost all confidence in herself. Sometimes when we least expect it, opportunity knocks.   

 Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image. 

Oral Dilemma: Jam

By

Ellie Mack 

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here.
Read part 15 here. 

Read Part 16 here 

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    Sirens blared, loud sirens going off that caused instant stabbing pain inside my head. A chain reaction of explosions that I just knew was killing brain cells. I covered my head with the blanket, praying for it to stop. After a few seconds it did but then restarted a few minutes later. It woke me enough to have to use the bathroom. As I staggered down the hall I realized it wasn’t sirens but rather my phone.

It took a concerted effort to read my phone, finally just hitting replay on my voice messages.

“Roxy this is Mike, I need you to come in at 2. It’s eleven and I haven’t heard back. Are you there?“There was a beep then another message.

“Roxanne, doll. I really need you to get up. You have to be here at 2. Call me! That’s it I’m coming over if you haven’t called me back by noon.”Again there was a beep.

It rang again in my hand “Hello?”

“Good. You’re finally up.”

“Finally? What the heck Mike, I’m not scheduled till seven.” I searched the refrigerator while talking.

“It’s nearly noon, I need you here by 2. Well before that actually. Change of plans doll, stuff happens you know? Tell you what, I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up.”

It figured that when I had a hangover Carly would skip her shift. “No Mike I can be there.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“ I already do.” I yelled into the phone.

I could hear him laugh on the other end.“I’ll be there in a half an hour.” He hung up on me. I closed the fridge empty handed and went to shower.

At twelve thirty there was pounding on my door. “Ugh. For the love of God Mike stop it!” I screamed as I opened the door.

He stood there grinning like a kid with a new toy. “Wanted to make sure you hadn’t gone back to bed.” He shoved a bag of bagels and a large coffee at me. “You’re gonna like this Roxy.”

I groaned as he followed me to the kitchen. Coffee was little consolation for the explosion in my head.

“Tara around? She can come in with you as well.”

“I think she’s in class” Then I looked at the clock. “Oh, well she should be back any minute.

“Good, good!” Mike was agitated. I hadn’t seen him this excited since, well I hadn’t ever.

I listened to him ramble on about getting the band together, I envisioned a group of middle aged men like in that movie “Wild Hogs”. I couldn’t help but smile. There was a gleam in Mike’s eye that I hadn’t seen before. “What’s going on Mike?” I tore off a hunk of bagel and chewed.

“New thing! Well, a renewed thing. Gonna make some changes.”

“When did you decide all this?” I chewed another bite.

“Last night. Thought about it for a while, been wanting to do it but last night made up my mind. It’s time.”

Just as I finished my bagel, Tara came in. She was surprised to see him, but quickly agreed to go in with us. She changed clothes, then grabbed the bagel to eat on the way. There was only two times before that Mike had picked me up. The first was to get my official waitress uniform, he paid for the outfit and told me what was acceptable and not acceptable. He didn’t want any of the girls working for him to dress inappropriately. He saw a bit of his daughter in all of us. The second time my car was in the shop and it was pouring down rain.

When we arrived at the club Carly was working. This made me wonder what was up even more as I figured I was covering her shift.

“I thought you said Carly couldn’t make her shift?” I looked at Mike suspiciously.

“Never said that doll, you just assumed.” I could have sworn his eyes just twinkled. I really hated mind games but there was a certain fascination in watching Mike like up like a Christmas bulb.

I worked in the back room stocking the shelves occasionally catching a glimpse of Mike with an energy and excitement that I’d not seen before. I moved to the kitchen, cleaning the shelves and work surface. I heard several voices with Mike along with a great deal of clattering noise.

“Roxanne, come out here.”

I wiped my hands on my apron and grabbed a tray. Four distinguished gentlemen sat around the largest table with Mike. I took their orders then returned with their drinks.”

Once the food was served, I went back to the kitchen helping Mark with food preparations. I chopped vegetables,acting as his sou chef. Tara came in and took over what I was doing grinning like a fool. She told me to clean up and go check with Mike.

I wondered what was going on that I didn’t know about. It seemed everyone kept looking at me strangely. Were they talking about how poorly I did on the karaoke thing last night? That thought only made me more self conscious and wondering what was up.

Pushing through the double doors, I saw that the guys were no longer at the table but setting up instruments on the stage. I busied myself bussing the table, certain that it was what Mike wanted, to make sure we made a good impression on his friends. It was really good to see him in good spirits. It was apparent that he was excited for his friends to be there. As I cleaned, I listened to them warm up. The bass player resembled Bruce Willis with the cool confidence of a seasoned performer. The keyboardist began running his fingers over the keys as if he was caressing his lover. His long elegant fingers moved in fluid motions as his long jet black hair fell forward over his eyes as he played. Soon they were moving into familiar riffs of songs that I recognized. I couldn’t help but hum along. It was a secret passion that few people knew I had, a very selfish indulgence.

When they began playing through “Careless Love”, I couldn’t help but hear the soulful sounds of Ray Charles, singing softly under my breath. The guys sounded fantastic together. They sounded better than some bands I’d heard in clubs.

“Love, oh love, oh careless love. Whoa Love, oh love, ohhh careless love. I’ll tell you what careless love can do.”

“Roxy” Mike motioned me over to the band. I blushed, worrying that maybe I got a little loud in my humming and singing. I tucked my cloth in my apron walking sheepishly towards the stage. “Meet the guys. This is Chubs” He introduced the man on drums. He was far from chubby, in fact he looked gaunt and haggard. I shook his hand.

“This is Johnny D on keys” He reached his hand to shake mine, a smooth low sultry voice like Lou Rawls.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned as he squeezed my hand. “You’re right Mike, she’s a looker.”

I blushed. Wasn’t expecting any compliments, and I knew I certainly wasn’t a “ looker”.

“Sandman on lead.” I shook his hand, he nodded to me not saying a word.

“And this sad case over here is my brother Matt, but we call him Locks.” He shyly extended his hand nodding.

“Guys this is Roxanne Winters, the doll with the voice.” I blushed smiling. “Join us in a little jam session Rox. We have the words printed off for you if you need them.” He handed me a bundle of pages stapled together. “Sing for us doll.”

They started on Kris Kristofferson’s song “Help Me Make IT Through the night.” A smooth transition slipping into “ Aint No Sunshine”. I couldn’t believe they were playing my favorites and letting me sing with them. After that Sandman kicked into some awesome riffs leading into “Damn Your Eyes.”

I loved that song, poured myself into it not caring what anyone thought, just feeling it all the way to the end never looking at the lyrics.

“ You ain’t jokin’ Mike, she got it.” It was Johnny D. “Can we do that one she sung?”

Locks fingers were magic on the strings. The soulful mourning that poured forth was better than Santana, similar to Bonamasso. I started in on Baddest Blues. I saw Tara lean against the bar, just listening, her ankles crossed elbows propped on the bar, tears flowing. There were a few people that had come in for the afternoon that seemed to enjoy the jam.

The last song the guys did was “Rock Me Baby.” I imagined the divine Etta James singing as I belted it out, putting a little extra passion into the song. It was a sensuous song after all, the sultry wails with a touch of raunch, made the lyrics “rock me baby, like I ain’t got no backbone” really hit home with me, pouring my heart into it.

When we finished, the place was packed and the applause was deafening.

Mike turned around grinning like a fiend, happy with his friends in the band. He looked out over the audience, basking in the applause and said: “Roxanne Winters, you’re fired.”

Oral Dilemma: The Baddest Blues

Roxanne has really had a rough go of things.  It's about time things start to look up, don't you think?    

 Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image.

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here.
Read part 15 here. 

    I worked with Mike for about six months before he gave Tara a job as well. She graduated from high school with honors, earning the same scholarship that I had earned. I was so proud of my sister. We met with dad and Tammy, it was an awkward time at best. Tammy was pleasant enough, but the tension was high with dad.

I wasn’t about to apologize and Tara just sat quietly observing. I had discussed with her the potential of dad offering the summer job again and we’d decided that she’d stay with me. It was a college town and there were many job openings, several that Tara had already applied for besides working at the Smoked Velvet. Dad never offered the summer job.

In those six months, I slowly had gained some weight back. I never thought I’d be too thin but when I woke from my grieving I looked terrible. I was currently at the point where my clothes were getting a little tight. I had gone back to the gym and built up to a thirty minute workout. I felt good with my body, I was firm and toned, if not a little plump. But the  passion I once had for the fighting was gone.

Working as many hours as Mike would give me, I managed to catch up on our bills before the sale of mom’s house went through. Mom’s lawyer worked with Tara and me to invest most of our money, leaving us a tidy sum to have available for college expenses and whatever we needed. Tara suggested that I begin seeing a counselor to get over my depression. It really helped in a lot of ways, but I couldn’t quite get over the heart ache I felt since Luke was just gone. I never got to say goodbye.

I had gotten into a habit of working the evening shift since I didn’t have any social life to speak of. Friday and Saturday nights were crowded. Mike had recently decided to have a karaoke night a couple times a month. It seemed to be a huge hit, drawing a large crowd into the Smoked Velvet.

A couple patrons bought me drinks trying to get me to lighten up. I accepted the drinks and continued working. Mike bought me a couple rounds. Nobody seemed to understand that staying busy took my mind off the date, or maybe nobody knew that it would have been my wedding day.

The drinks took the edge off while I worked. Towards the end I was challenged by a couple of the college guys that were Luke’s friends. One of them called me chicken and well, I had to do it. I dried my hands and removed my apron. Slamming two fingers of scotch, I jabbed at the page and selected “ The Baddest Blues”.

I hadn’t sang in ages, I didn’t care. It was all heart. I poured myself into that song as others might drown their sorrows in a bottle. I drew every ounce of pain and anguish I'd felt since my life went to hell. I gave everything of myself not caring what I sounded like, not caring if anyone was even listening. My eyes were closed most of the time seeing Luke’s face just before boarding that plane.

“When your baby leave you, going to break your heart in two.

I said when your baby leave you, there ain’t nothin’, nothin' that you can do.

I cried myself a river, but it won’t take me back to you.

That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues I ever know.

When he’s gone, gone, gone,  and he ain't never comin’ back again.

He done left me all alone, and he  never comin’ back again.

That’s the baddest blues, the baddest blues I ever know.”

 

I think the booze helped stave off the tears or else I’d just cried myself out already. It felt good to just cut loose and pour the soulful melody out. I could hear Etta James in my head, B. B. King with Lucille on the riffs. When the song ended and I opened my eyes there was no applause, only silence. I sighed and walked off the stage, back to work, stopping at my friend’s table to collect their bet. They stared at me handing over the twenty with their mouth’s gaping.

That was the last straw, the last humiliation I could take. I grabbed the twenty and walked out the back door. I grabbed a bottle of Jack on my way out and took off walking. I went to the park where Luke and I  would often work out together and sat under the tree where we sometimes studied. One specific time came to my mind, a fall day when we laughed together.

I cried my goodbyes to Luke, remembering all the good times we had. He wouldn’t want me to fail or give up. I’d been doing a lot of that lately. I picked myself up and staggered back to my apartment. For the first time since he died, I didn’t sleep in his clothes. I slipped on my own pajamas and made the conscious decision that I would start over.

Playing the Game

We have a guest on our blog today, author Tom  Covenent. Tom has authored Wives Awakened, Model Wife, Model Wife Part 2, and Fallen (The Princess of the Fall). 

Playing the Game

by

Tom Covenent  

 

The kitchen was in semi darkness, the blinds down but allowing some sunlight to filter in, enough to leave the lights off but not enough to lift the strange sleazy atmosphere reminiscent of a scene from a 'film noir'.

There were four people in the room. A fat guy in a suit a size too small, sweating, hairless, probably in his forties. He stood near the kitchen door, effectively blocking it with his huge bulk. A smooth expensive suited guy with slicked down greasy hair and sallow complexion sat on a chair which had been lazily swung the wrong way round between long thin legs.

A lightly built middle aged man was sitting leaning forward on another chair in the corner of the room, he was straining against the torn tea towels which had been used as ad hoc ties to bind him to the chair. He was gagged with a ball gag and wore nothing but a pair of unflattering grey underpants.

The fourth person in the room was a middle aged woman. She was dressed in a smart medium length black skirt and a plain white blouse like any office worker, though an office worker who would not fail to attract your attention if she walked past your desk. She was standing in front of the smooth guy, glaring at him with dark eyes glittering angrily, bristling with obstinate disobedience.

'I said, take off your clothes,' drawled the smooth guy, his voice held the assertive confidence of a man who was used to being in obeyed.

‘Fuck off,’ she retorted, ‘let him go.’

The smooth guy shook his head slowly, ‘fat boy,’ he said, ‘the lady needs a little help.’

‘You bastard,’ she said, but nevertheless began to unbutton her blouse, her gaze remaining fixed on him as the blouse parted and her breasts swelled into view. The smooth guy sat back, a soft half smile playing on his lips, but his eyes were hard and hawk-like, watching her every move. Despite his anger and fear and probably fueled by his restraints, Andrew felt his cock stiffen involuntarily as he watched his wife take off her top in front of these unpleasant men. Her full breasts were barely restrained, thinly covered by clinging black satin - stiff and generous nipples swelled from dark dimpled texture aureola clearly visible through the sheer material. Like me, he realized with a jolt; it seemed she couldn’t control her arousal either.

With sweat beading on his upper lip, the fat one licked his lips and loosened his tie and stared as she twisted her body, using both hands to un-hook her skirt. The zip rasped and the garment slid gracefully down her nylon clad legs to pool around her ankles on the floor. Her panties were high thigh, black but sheer, matching her bra, her legs long and elegant. The incredible eroticism as she stepped out of her skirt, bending to retrieve it, could not have been lost on the other men - it was certainly not lost on her husband. She tossed the skirt onto a chair and turned back to stand facing the smooth guy, her feet well apart and her hands now on her hips. Although her chin jutted forward in defiance, her nipples continued to betray her sexual arousal and her sheer panties did little to hide the prominent cleft between her legs and her husband was sure he could see wetness there. Sure enough, the smooth guy had also noticed.

‘Getting wet for us babe,’ he drawled.

He reached toward her, his index finger extended. As the tip of his finger touched the satin, he looked up directly into her warm brown eyes and, holding her gaze, gradually and with increasing pressure, pushed the sheer slippery wet silk deeper into the cleft between her legs. The gasp which escaped her lips was of involuntary, undeniable and extreme sexual arousal. She looked up at the kitchen ceiling, quickly to avoid catching any of the men’s eyes, including, and especially, the accusing eyes of her husband. But she hadn’t pulled away, her thighs were thrusting forward and her buttocks were visibly clenched. She closed her eyes, her jaw clamped shut, gritting her teeth in an effort to prevent any further audible revelation of her intense pleasure. But her trembling thighs and the little jerks of her hips told the story clearly enough as her orgasm erupted and her moan, held in, now exploded as a scream. With her mouth hanging open, she panted breathlessly, thrusting against his finger. Deftly, with practiced expertise, he pushed his thumb against the panties, slipped the wet satin over her generous pussy lips and pushed four fingers deep inside her, right up to the palm of his hand.  

The fat one guffawed suddenly and everyone looked to where he was pointing, everyone except the sheepish looking Andrew. It was the prominent bulge in his underpants which was the cause of the fat ones amusement. ‘Hubby likes seeing his bitch finger fucked,’ he giggled, like a teenage girl.

The smooth guy pulled his fingers out of Andrew’s wife with a wet slurp. ‘Take everything off,’ he instructed her dismissively, ‘the fat boy will want to fuck you naked.’

Meekly, unhesitatingly, she slipped off her bra, allowing it to drop limply to the floor. Without its support, her breasts drooped slightly, but for a fifty three year old woman they were unusually firm for their size. She hooked her fingers into her panties, pushed them down, exposing a neat triangle of tight curls.

‘The collar matches the cuffs,’ laughed the smooth guy.

She bent to hook her panties off her feet, her breasts hanging like udders as she did so.

‘Jeez boss,’ said the fat boy, the bitch has great tits.’

The smooth guy nodded, ‘let’s have her on all fours, like a sow.’

Wincing at his crude disrespect, without being told, she knelt down and dropped onto her hands. She felt wetness trickle down her inner thigh from between her legs; his description of her as a sow must surely be an accurate one. All resistance had slipped away with her orgasm, now she wanted more, wanted to be used by these foul men, wanted to be treated like their whore. She realized that the fact that her husband was watching and would realize she was enjoying this debasement was adding to her pleasure. It was to protect him that she was doing this, at least that had been the case, now, she admitted, it was because she wanted it. 

‘OK fat boy,’ said the smooth guy, ‘she’s all yours.’

 ‘Here boss?’ questioned the fat boy.

‘Up to you,’ replied the smooth guy, ‘I have no particular desire to see your fat ass bouncing on the lady, but it’s up to you.’

‘Thanks boss, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to fuck the bitch in private.’

‘No,’ she protested, ‘no please.’ She crawled on all fours across to the fat one, sat back on her haunches began to fumble with his zipper. A sheepish grin spread across his pudgy features and made no protest as she unzipped him, pushed her hand inside and fished out a burgeoning heavily veined cock.

With one hand inside his pants, cupping his balls, she used the other to stroke his shaft to a full and impressive erection. Her ruby painted lips slipped wetly over the tip and he soon began to jerk his thighs in time to the bobbing of her head. It did not take long before the fat one climaxed. Andrew stared in horror as his wife made no attempt to escape as the fat one reached a noisy orgasm, her lips remaining tight around his shaft. The bulge in her husband’s underpants told its own story.  

When the smooth guy and the fat one had gone, Andrew and his wife went to bed, tired but satisfied, cuddling and kissing just like any other couple. It had been fun, playing the cuckold, thought Andrew, but maybe she would let them go the whole way with her next time.

Oral Dilemma: Smoked Velvet

 How do you pick yourself up from rock bottom when life isn't finished pushing you down? 

Storytime Trysts does not own copyrights to this image. 

 

 Oral Dilemma: Smoked Velvet 

by

Ellie Mack

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here.
Read part 10 here.  
Read part 11 here.
Read part 12 here 
Read part 13 here
Read part 14 here. 

    I’d lost an entire month. Day and night meant nothing to me during that time, it was all one big blur. Nothing could stop the pain. Nothing could fill the hole. I wasn’t suicidal, yet I had no reason to go on. I simply existed. In many ways the time lost was inconsequential to the vacuum left by my mom and Luke.

How had Tara managed? I realize Luke didn’t mean the same to her, but still. I’d have to talk to her, figure out how she managed. Lord knows I was no help to her. It took every ounce of my energy to make myself go forward.

I’d lost a month of classes, there was no way to recover from that and after talking to my professors I withdrew from school. In so doing I forfeited my scholarship. Really there was no help for it because if I’d not withdrawn I’d have received failing grades. Another devastating blow that on it’s own would have been enough to send me into a self pity spiral for weeks.

I went to the gym to get back into my training. I felt tired and weak. My strength was gone, I couldn’t even finish a fifteen minute cardio workout. My stamina just wasn’t there. It was a slap in my face, the current reigning division MMA champion, and I couldn’t even finish fifteen minutes. As I was leaving my rep stopped me.

“Roxy?”

“Hey Derek.” I said weakly.

“Where the hell you and Luke been?” He was beyond pissed. I should have recognized the body posture. IF I’d been in a right frame of mind I would have.

“Derek, Luke was killed in a plane crash.” My eyes burned. I kept telling myself ‘keep it together’ as I blinked back the tears that threated to spill forth.

“What?” He stated it bluntly like I was making it up.

I nodded. “ I’ll uh, bring you a death certificate.”

He pulled me into his office and closed the door. “Rox, I had no idea.” He raked his hands in his hair. “Man I had no idea.” He sat, shaking his head. “Last I saw you, you were heading home to see your mom. How is she?”

My head dropped a little lower. “She died Derek. Then Luke’s crash was the day of her funeral.”

“Oh my God! Rox, are you ok? Damn! No wonder I haven’t seen you. I had no idea.” He shook his head biting his lower lip for a few seconds looking off out the window before turning back to me. “ Maybe we can still pull this out. YOu missed two matches, as did Luke. You were both let go but I can smooth things over for Luke’s case - get me that death certificate and we’ll get his fully funded contract. For you, if you can do the match tomorrow, you’ll be reinstated. I’m certain that when I present the case - explain why you missed, they’ll be lenient in the extenuating circumstances.” He looked down going through the file he had pulled from his drawer.

“I can’t.” There was no way I could physically or emotionally do a match, I couldn’t even do fifteen minutes of cardio. “ I”m not in shape.”

“ You don’t have to win, just show up.” He never looked up.

I leaned forward,elbows on my knees, head in my hand. “ I can’t. She’ll kill me. I need at least a month to get back in shape.” Plus there was Tara. What good would it do her for me to go to a match knowing that it would just be a beat-down?

He crossed his arms in that forceful ‘I know better, you will do this’ look he gets. I think it was the first time he got a good look at me. I was a mess. Thin, frail looking. My skin was ashy. I knew I looked bad - hell I felt one step from death, that death would be welcomed. Except for Tara, she kept me going. As pathetic as it was, I was all she had left. I had to pull myself up from this. I saw it in his eyes, the moment he realized just how much weight and muscle I’d lost. I was not the champion sitting there, but rather a sad broken girl with broken dreams.

“I’m sorry then. Really sorry Roxy. I wish there was something I could do. I mean, you can train and get back to champ, but I don’t see the fire in your eyes anymore. And they won’t offer you a new contract since you’ve defaulted on this one. I’ll see waht I can do to get this months pay at least.”

We talked for another half an hour. He eve tried to convince me to take the beating, knowing that I would heal but even he could see that my fire, my passion was gone. There was still that part of me, my pride that wouldn’t just allow me to step in the ring as a punching bag though. I left there defeated in more ways than losing a match, or my title. I was beaten, life just wouldn’t give Roxanne Winters a break except to break my back.

I stopped in at subway to some lunch using my free pass, one of the perks of my former title. They had already revoked it. DAMN! I walked out frustrated yet again. I wandered down the street aimlessly. I came to a lounge, Smoked Velvet. It was a popular hang out for the art and music students. It didn’t draw the crowds that the club across town that hosted the rock bands did, but it was a great place for a date. Luke and I had gone there on a date when one of his buddies performed. My heart sank - Luke. I found myself pushing in the door and seated before I realized what I’d done.

I ordered a Manhattan and a sandwich. I dug out the little bit of cash I had. The waitress seated me in the same booth where we’d had our date. I nursed my drink while I picked at the sandwich, lost. I had nothing, and I thought I’d hit rock bottom before. Tears silently flowed down my cheeks, leaving a stinging trail behind as I stared off into nothing. A middle aged stocky man walked up to the booth.

“What’s your story?” He sat down uninvited.

“ Pardon me?” I asked a little put out.

“ Your story. You know, why a pretty girl is sitting in my club crying alone.” He motioned to the waitress to bring his drink. He motioned to the waitress to bring his drink, apparently he planned to stay.

“Your club? Do . . . Do you want me to leave?”

“NO. Not at all.” He flipped a business card to me. “ MIke O’Neal. I own this joint. I ain’t asking you to leave doll, I wanna know your story.” He accepted his drink and waited for me to begin.

I thought about it as I chewed a bite of my sandwich. My chin quivering a bit in uncertainty then I said “What the hell?” I told him everything. It didn’t matter, I didn’t know him he didn’t know me. I’d probably never see him again so if he judged me I didn’t care. I didn’t leave out details: the cancer, mom’s death, the fight with dad, Luke’s death, losing my scholarship, the sponsorship, failing my sister - all of it. Finally, when I had emptied it all out he took my hand in his. It wasn’t weird like a creeper, but like a father, a father I had always wanted that wasn’t there.

“Doll, you’ve had a rough deal. I had a daughter, about your age. She was killed in a car wreck four years ago. You need a friend and if you want to talk, my door is open. Now, if you want a job I could really use the help.

“Really?” I swiped at my tears.

He grinned. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes sir I can!”

“No sir doll, it’s Mike. Just Mike. If you piss me off it’s Mr. O’Neal. Your uniform is black pants and a club tee.”

When I walked out there was a single ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. It broke through the clouds that was my life as well.

This Night: Remix

It seems once was not enough for the guys. Sophia agreed to see them again, but now what? 

This Night: Remix

by 

Eythan Rogers

 This Night: Secret Longings part 4

 This Night: Afterglow part 3 

 This Night: Realization part 2

 This Night: Introductions  part 1

Sophia stepped out of the shower; steam billowing around her and covering the small bathroom making it hard to see. When she pulled open the door a rush of cool air came in, covering her arms in goose bumps. Or maybe it was because she was nervous to see the guys again. She wasn’t really sure why she agreed to see them again. Yeah, she had a good time with them, and yes she thought about them a few times a day. But that’s what a fantasy was. Something you thought about and dreamed about. So why was she still thinking about it? It was out of her system and done with. It was just as she had hoped. It was hot and sexy and there was so much passion and lust her mind was over loaded and nearly fried out from so much pleasure.

Sophia had asked Kim why they wanted to see her again, but she was about as much help as a color blind man helping you pick out curtains. She was always a cryptic one.

This time Sophia wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them, so she offered to meet them at Kim’s club and go from there. It as a central location, and public. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, but she could never be too cautious. Her past would prove that true.

Without realizing it her hand covered her heart as if she was trying to slow it down. She would not let that asshole ruin the rest of her life god damn it! He had taken way too much from her already and she would be damned it she let herself get worked over a guy who was far far away from her now.

After taking a deep breath and clearing her mind, Sophia dried off and got dressed. Fixing her hair just right and putting on some light make up she was ready to go.

Her apartment was in a decent neighborhood and her neighbors were nice. It was the type of neighbors that would lend you a cup of sugar or a few eggs any time you needed. They were more then willing to help and she was thankful to have them. On more then one occasion Sophia had locked herself out of her apartment and needed to call the landlord. A sweet older man Brian across the hall was more then willing to help. 

Sophia was even more amazed to find out that there was a parking garage for her complex. It was almost unheard of in this area but it was great for rainy days and keeping safe.

Checking her watch one more time Sophia stepped off the elevator and into the parking garage. She was just on time. She hated being late. She was always on time or early. Waiting was a pet peeve of hers, so she always made sure to have enough time to get where she needed to be.

There was a light right under her car and she tried to always get that spot, it was easy to remember and close by the elevators. When she walked around to the driver side door she stopped short. Her breath nearly stopped as well. Her hand quickly covered her mouth and the gasp that escaped her lips.

Stuck to her window was a piece of paper and in bright red marker spelled out “Slut!” Franticly Sophia looked around to see if anyone was around. Not seeing a soul she ripped the sign off her window, shoved it in her purse and jumped in her car. Who the fuck would do that?? Not stopping to analyze it further Sophia threw her car in drive and sped off to the club.

Someone had the wrong car. Why would that be on her car? It must be a mistake. She had no enemies.

Forget it. She had to forget it. It was just a stupid mistake and she was going to see Brandon and Anthony and forget about it. There was no reason to dwell on something so stupid.

Pulling up to the club Sophia noticed it looked pretty dead tonight. Guess Kim was right about all of that outside fun. With a smirk on her face Sophia parked her car and headed into the club.  She admitted to wondering about that as well.

She felt more at ease meeting them inside rather then in a dark parking lot. Its not like they were staying here tonight. She would just wait inside where it was still light and no playing in the lobby. So there was no chance of her running into any erotic play. Not that she has ever seen it before. Hell she remembers helping Kim open the place. Long days and nights spend here, and seeing things she never thought possible. Which could explain her major curiosity on the subject. Or was it all of the books Kim recommended her to read? Whatever the cause, she was very interested and soaked up any literature on the subject of BDSM and D/s relationships.

“Sophia.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when Brandon placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her from her thoughts. She didn’t realize how caught up she was.

“Whoa, easy there. Sorry, I didn’t mean t frighten you. You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I didn’t even hear you guys come in. I was just day dreaming I guess. It’s good to see you both again” Sophia smiled. Actually genuinely smiled. She was happy to see them, more then she thought she would be.

Brandon looked like he wanted to hug her but didn’t want to make it awkward. She could see it written on his face. She kind of snickered at his discomfort. She had the feeling that it wasn’t often that these guys felt awkward or out of place. Letting it go she let them both off the hook and asked where they wanted to go. Anthony spoke first.

“Well, we were going to leave the choice up to you, but we thought better of that. Too many choices.” He smirked and tucked his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He slowly took a few steps forward and only a foot separated the to of them. Sophia had to look up to see his face. She nearly swallowed her tongue when she swallowed.

“Sso- what did you two decide?”

Anthony pulled one of his hands from his pocket and tucked a finger under her chin making her look into his eyes. With a wicked grin Anthony said

“We are staying here at the club, Sophia.” 

Immortally Mine - Part Three

I had gone off to school, stayed away for four years, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get Tyler Van Camp out of my head. Now that I was home, I both dreaded and looked forward to when I would see him again. I never thought that the first time I did would be completely by chance, a run in at a bar. A run in that led us to the back seat of his car in the absolute middle of nowhere. 

Read part one here

Read part two here

Immortally Mine

Part Three

By

Eva Rayne 

 

I found myself at our town's only bar that night completely by chance. I hadn't been home twenty four hours and my mom and I had already gotten into it twice. The first argument was because I didn't want to join her in our family realty business, the second because I simply had no desire to stay in the small town where I was born. I was twenty two, fresh from college with a degree that wouldn't help me start a career and no ambition to do anything other than see the world.

I left my childhood home frustrated, starting to wonder why I had bothered coming home at all. My question, along with those I had never voiced, were answered half an hour later when Tyler Van Camp slid gracefully onto the bar stool next to me. 

 

“It's been a while, Katherine.” His voice was dark and seductive, drawing me in but also hinting at a hidden danger. “What brings you to McKinney's tonight?”

“You remember me?” I asked dumbly, mentally kicking myself the second the words fell out of my mouth. Good job, Kat, I thought, You've only been hoping for another shot at this for four years and you're already off to a wonderful start.

“How could I forget?” he asked with a chuckle. “You were sweet, an unusual mix of alcohol and innocence. Your heart beat almost as rapidly as a hummingbird's under my lips.”

I sat there for a moment, what he was saying was impossible. Okay, so maybe he had seen the alcohol on the deck and guessed that I had been drinking, but innocent had never been a word used to describe me. He had only kissed me the once, along my collar bone at the base of my neck. That day had been so long ago, was it possible he had me mixed up with someone else?

“No, Katherine, I assure you, my memory is impeccable.” That coy, dangerous, smile that had been visiting my dreams for the last four years was back on his lips.

“H – How did you do that?” I had only had one drink, and I hadn't even finished it yet. There was no way I could blame the booze for the strangeness of our conversation today. 

 

“But don't you remember?” he asked mischievously, “I'm hurt.” His smiled turned almost sinister and I watched his teeth sharpen. Were those. . . Fangs?

I quickly looked around the bar but no one else seemed to notice what was going on. I took a long sip from my  previously forgotten drink before asking, “What – What are you?” in almost a whisper.

He laughed. Like before, it wasn't a cruel laugh. It was more like I had done something ridiculously adorable; like I was a puppy who had tripped over his own ears or fallen over chasing its own tail. 

“My dear, I think you already know the answer to that.” He rested his hand lightly on my knee, sending chills running through my entire body. 

 “But, how is that even possible?” I asked, trying to focus on anything other than his hand on my skin, suddenly very aware of just how short my skirt was.

“Honey, you have no idea what's possible. I could show you though, that is, if you haven't changed your mind about me.” He raised his other hand, getting the bartender's attention, “Another round for the lady.”

I had known Larry, the owner of McKinney's, my entire life. He raised his eyebrows at me but filled and slid a new glass over to me anyway.

“Now, what was I saying?” Tyler asked as I swallowed what was left in my original glass.

“Um, something about showing me the impossible,” I said, trying to be off hand about it, my finger circling the rim of my new glass.

“Ah, right. So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice husky as he leaned toward me, his hand sliding up my thigh, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in its wake. His touch wasn't what I expected, but then again, I didn't know what I had expected. I couldn't describe the sensation but it certainly wasn't the cold, unpleasant touch you read about in horror novels. In fact, it was awakening things in me I had never felt before.

“I-” I started, but I didn't know what to say next. I don't do dead things? Now that just sounded rude. I'm not that kind of girl? Flat out lie.

“You're not the quiet, small town girl your mother wants you to be, but you're not the big city party girl you've been trying to be either. So, what exactly are you Katherine? Where do you draw the line?” He spoke softly, his mouth close to my ear, his warm breath sent shivers down my spine. The words were coming out of my mouth before I even knew what I was going to say.

“My house is empty, my mom just left for a realtor's convention. She won't be back up til next week.” 

Tyler just chucked.  “I have a better idea,” He quickly finished off the rest of his drink – I followed suit – left a few bills on the bar between our glasses, wrapped his large hand around mine and led me out of the noisy bar and into the night.

And that was how I ended up here.

I was naked, laying on my back in the backseat of his Escape, the leather interior surprisingly warm against my skin as Tyler hovered over me. Everything about him screamed power, from the muscles in his arms and chest to the strong line of his jaw as his mouth found my skin once more. He chuckled softly as I wriggled under him, shocked by how much I wanted him.

Raising his hand he started writing on the steam covered window. Looking up I could make out the one word, written with strong, bold lines.

Mine.