Debt Page 4

  “Please...” I whimper in a shaky voice.

  “Louder.” His low, gritty tone is a thin veil for the note of pleasure in his voice.

  “Please,” I say more firmly.

  “Louder,” he says cruelly.

  “Please,” I project.

  He slips his head inside of me as I gasp and then he stops.

  “Louder, bitch.” He won’t be satisfied until I am completely stripped of dignity.

  “Please!” It’s just below a yell, but my voice is jagged with shame.

  He pushes his entire length into me, wrathfully.

  I cry out, throwing my head back and gripping the top of the couch. His cock curves into me deeply, painfully.

  “Don’t stop begging, and loud so I can hear you cry.”

  He pulls out almost all the way and impales me again. “Please!” I cry, arching my back to brace for the impact of his cock.

  He hits a rhythm, each thrust complete with my vocal begging. The more I beg, the louder I beg, the more he fucks me.

  The otherwise silent house is filled with the sounds of his hips slapping the soft flesh of my ass, the sounds of my juices sloshing around his cock, and my loud, crying plead: “Please! Please! Please! Please!” My voice vibrates from the stranger’s violent thrusting against my body.

  “That’s right, fucking whore,” he grumbles.

  If I stop begging, he stops. It’s humiliating, it’s dirty, and yet it somehow turns on every erogenous zone in my body.

  His balls violently slap against me, reminding me of his conquering with each tap and awakening even more nerve endings just behind my pussy.

  This stranger violently thrusting into me as I shamelessly beg for his dick makes me feel like a star bursting bright. Like sex is pouring out of my every orifice, every pore. My mind is honed in on him and only him. This is the abandon I have been looking for. Shame and decency have long gone out the window. I can be freely sexual. I can admit I want cock, I want cum, I want my hair to be pulled, I want my nipples to be pinched. I can howl as loud as I want. Nothing else fucking matters but the feeling of this man’s cock pressing against the walls of my pussy.

  Eventually, he stays inside of me instead of pulling in and out. He maintains a steady contact and friction with my walls as his cock rubs deep inside of me. The tension builds and builds.

  Everything tightens: every pore on my body shrinks, my nipples minimize to their smallest, most sensitive point, his stubble burns against my neck, the muscles inside of my thighs clench, his warm breath blows against my cheek.

  “Please!” I beg at my loudest, the scratchy husk of certainty cloaking my voice. He cannot stop now, he has to take me all the way. His hand reaches around and he rubs my mound, giving the perfect amount of attention to my overstimulated clit.

  I tighten, and tighten, everything shrinking to its most compact point around his hard cock, and then BOOM. Everything releases. Everything bursts, erupts, shatters.

  I hear my own voice fill the room: a shaky, quavering cry. He covers my mouth with his gloved hand, because it’s so loud, it might grab a neighbor’s attention.

  As my walls contract around him and my body erupts, his cocks swells in me, his grip around me tightens. The stranger keeps his pace, covering my mouth with one hand and clenching a breast with the other, rolling a nipple between his fingers. And before I am even done coming down, I start to build again with him.

  I can’t believe I am about to have another orgasm before the first one has even finished. This time his groans almost become growls, he bites my neck, stopping right at the pressure before I would scream in pain.

  He squeezes my breast so hard I yelp and then his cock pulsates inside of me as he grunts into my neck, his warm groans envelop me. His warmth shoots inside of me, and I come again around his throbbing cock.

  Reckless. Irresponsible. Dirty. Dangerous.

  Exhilarating. Erotic. Wild. Euphoric.

  How can one thing be all of those?

  How can peering into the gutter of my soul feel like I just touched heaven?

  “Get up,” he says between breaths as he pulls down his mask to cover his face again.

  My ears ring from the intensity of the multiple orgasms. My hearing is dampened, smothered. The stranger’s voice sounds distant, like I am underwater. It’s like a nearby bomb went off. I swallow hard, desperately trying to regain my bearings and clear my hearing.

  “Huh?” I ask, exhausted and mentally shattered. I guess his act isn’t over. I try desperately to cope with the physical aftermath of what just happened, while still trying to be present with the man who just lit my word ablaze. I glance over to the floor and my clothes are shredded and strewn about. A lamp is turned over along with some knick-knacks, and the rug is warped. Maybe a bomb did go off?

  He yanks me by my elbow and up to my feet. “Come on.” His voice is deep, gravely, and devoid of patience.

  He drags me to the bathroom, whips open the shower curtain, and turns on the shower. “Get in.”

  I look at him hesitantly as he grips my upper arm and I step in. Stranger yanks the curtain closed except for a small gap so he can watch. “Clean your pussy.” He peeks through the opening and watches me as I soap myself up. When he appears to be satisfied, he closes all the way.

  Finally alone, I look down at my hands and they are still trembling from our encounter.

  I think about what I should say. Should I thank him for his services? What the hell just happened? What is happening? Who the fuck am I and what did I just do?

  I just let a complete stranger fuck me raw! Oh my god. Holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck.

  The shower is sobering and panic hits me hard. My chest tightens as I lean against the cold tile and aggressively scrub my skin with a bar of soap. My legs are still jello and I can barely keep myself up. Shivers run up and down my body like aftershocks, reminding me of the intense pleasure at the hands of a man whose name I don’t even know.

  My sympathetic nervous system fires on all cylinders, rendering me unable to relax or complete a coherent thought and reducing me to a ball of nervous physical energy.

  I don’t know how I feel about anything right now. What I did was stupid, thoughtless, and fucking crazy. And yet, it was the most insane, erotic, exhilarating and sensual experience of my life. I have never come that hard that many times. I have never just let go the way I did in that living room.

  I have never had a man just fuck me like that, with pure lust and physical desire, without either one of us giving a single shit about convention or feelings or propriety. It was rude, vulgar, wrong...immoral. There was no discomfort or awkwardness. Shame did not exist when he took me. But now, alone behind the shower curtain, I couldn’t wash off the fresh coat of shame no matter how much I scrubbed.

  My logical mind pulls me back into the present. There is a sexy, but strange man still in my house. I thrust the curtain open and the bathroom is empty. I turn off the shower, wrap myself in a towel, and cautiously step out of the bathroom, dripping wet. The house is still completely dark.

  “Hello?” I call out. “Are you still here?”

  I tip toe through every room, leaving a trail of water in my wake, remains of a pointless attempt at washing the filth off of my flesh. But it’s too late, he’s already inside of me and under my skin. Despite all the meticulous planning, I sense the irrational threat of danger. I shouldn’t, this guy is a professional. But still, I don’t know him.

  I don’t know a single thing about him.

  I pace silently from one empty room to the next, ending up in the living room. A chair is on its side, a lamp turned over, the rug is crumpled, my tattered clothes are in a heap, the adjoining kitchen floor is a mess of food and Tupperware.

  Then I realize that just as quickly as Stranger swooped into my life...

  He is gone.

  I slam my car door shut and tomahawk my fist against the steering wheel.

  What the fuck just happened?

  Tha
t did NOT go according to plan.

  I throw my head back and run my hands over my face, taking in a deep breath. Her scent lingers on my clothes, a sweet, soapy smell. I can still taste her on my lips, and it reminds me of the way her pussy bloomed for me, the way she begged me to fuck her, the way she tremored around my cock.

  I rip my jacket off, trying to rid myself of her. Of that bitch’s essence.

  Still breathless, I fiddle with the hunting knife that I had planned on using tonight. And I did use it, but not the way I had planned.

  This shit was not supposed to go down like this. This was supposed to be the end. The grand finale. Everything was supposed to come full circle.

  But I lost my focus and blew it.

  When it comes to the mission, I have always succeeded the first time around, so this territory is foreign to me. But I’ll take it as a sign that her end should be far more ceremonious.

  I never thought I would say this, but...on to plan B.

  “Mia!”

  I nearly hit the ceiling as Dewey calls my name, tapping my shoulder.

  “Uh...oh, hi...what’s up?”

  “Didn’t mean to startle you, but I called your name about five times already. Maybe you should turn your headphones down? I’d hate for you to lose your hearing¸ my friend.”

  I push out a fake smile. “You know me, I get so focused in on things.” I am so lying right now. There is only one reason why my mind is elsewhere.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to catch you. Before you go home today, I’d like you to stop by my office. There are some things I would like to talk to you about.”

  “Uh...sure. Of course. Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah,” he says brushing off my concern by waving his hand in the air. “We’ll talk...” he mouths as he walks away.

  A private meeting when everyone has left the office is not like Dewey and it makes me nervous. Well, during these past five days, everything has made me nervous. Honestly, I wasn’t even listening to music, I just wore my earphones so people would generally leave me alone. But my thoughts have not stopped drifting back to that night.

  I still don’t know how I feel about it. It’s a mixture of things. Like I am walking around with a dirty little secret. I have these intense introspective moments of disgust with myself. And then there’s fear because of the unprotected sex (the promise of an STD-free experience from this mysterious service isn’t quite as assuring as I thought it would be now that it’s all said and done). But a larger portion of the time, my mind drifts back to specific moments or memories.

  I think about the pinch of his bites on my skin, the way his stubble pricked against my stomach as he licked his way down between my legs. I remember his smell...an intoxicating mixture of man and cologne. I think about his thick, curved cock and how it rubbed me in all the right places, and the way he forced me to beg until I had no inhibitions left. It fills my stomach with butterflies. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t even focus at the job I love.

  And I think that’s why Dewey wants to see me. He keeps asking me if something is different, if everything is okay. I have worked here for eight years now, and we know each other pretty well. He’s that kind of guy, he cares. And he probably wants to ask me when the office is quiet.

  I barely remember anything from this work week because all I have done is relive pieces of Friday night.

  Yet, I can’t bring myself to press that “SUBMIT” button again. There is a filthiness that makes it the type of experience that knocks you on your ass for a week after it happened, but also it sickens you. It makes you feel wrong. Because it is wrong, right? What I did? I hired a strange man to come into my house and violate me.

  I don’t care how many people have done it. I don’t care if the guy would stop when I say rainbow, there is something seriously wrong with this scenario.

  And yet, why is that I find myself smiling at random moments? Why have I held on to the torn tank top that still has his smell on it?

  I think I made a huge mistake. A terrible, amazing, unforgettable mistake.

  “Have a seat,” Dewey says to me as I enter his office, while still looking at his computer screen. He’s trying to act casual, but I sense he’s covering up something heavy.

  I sit across from him as he looks up as me and purses his lips.

  “Dewey...what’s going on? You seem reaaaaally serious,” I say nervously.

  “You’re the first person I am telling this to, so it’s hard to utter the words...” He takes a deep breath before pushing out: “I’ve sold Alea.”

  “You sold the company?” I ask in disbelief. Alea is his baby, a company he built from the ground up with his wife, Barb. I have been with him since nearly the beginning, being the second person he hired. Together, we grew Alea from a company making fifty thousand a year to nearly ten million. I know Alea is his, but I have to say, it hurts to be blindsided like this.

  “Hear me out. You know Barb has had her health problems, and I want to spend more time with her. We want to do some traveling. A buyer came with an offer I could not refuse. But you know I love you guys and I would never leave you all hanging. The buyer wants to be a silent owner, while the company runs as-is. They understand that the people here make it so great, and trying to come in and change what we have would hinder Alea’s success. So Alea’s new parent company, Draconi Corp, will simply check in with the head of Alea to analyze numbers, maybe work on some strategy, but everything stays the same. It’ll be like it has always been.”

  While I am relieved, I wonder if it will ever be like it’s always been. Dewey is the heart of this company, and being bought out by some bigger entity always means there will be changes, no matter what promises were made.

  “But, if you’re gone, how can it be the same? Who will be our boss?” I ask.

  Dewey smiles. “Why do you think you’re the first person I’m telling?”

  “Wuh?” I ask skeptically. I think I know what he’s getting at, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Because it would be a really big friggin’ deal.

  “Because it’s you, Mia. I want you to take my place.”

  I gasp, trying to hold down the knot that forms in my throat.

  “Mia, you are Alea’s longest standing employee, and no one understands the culture and the business side of Alea like you. You have helped me grow this company to what it is today. I would have no other person take my place. I told Draconi that putting you at the helm would be the only way to guarantee a seamless transition. They agree and see your move to my spot as an investment and are prepared to pay you really well. I mean, life-changingly well.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I reply, shaking my head in disbelief. I love working here, and I worked my ass off, but it never really felt that way because it was always a joy.

  “Say you’ll take my spot, so I know Alea is in good hands.”

  “You know Alea is my baby too. God, I am going to miss you and Barb, but I would be happy and honored to make sure Alea keeps being awesome.”

  I hug Dewey as tears trickle down my cheeks. I am touched by his trust in me and thrilled to be promoted, but I am going to really miss him.

  And for a moment, I forget about the completely stupid and irresponsible decision I made just days before.

  I walk through the empty garage of the office building with a huge smile on my face. I have worked so hard to help grow Alea, and I have always felt so fortunate to work here. Not many people can say they love their job and their boss.

  But my happiness is bittersweet, because I do love my bosses. Barb used to be a regular fixture at Alea until she was diagnosed with lupus and had to take leave about a year ago. It was hard enough losing her motherly presence in the office, and now I would be losing Dewey too. It would become my job to maintain the culture of strong work ethic, openness and fun they had established at Alea.

  I won’t lie, the responsibility makes me nervous, but I know Dewey is right. If there is anyone who is quali
fied for this job, it’s me. I built Alea alongside Barb and Dewey; I know everything about the manufacturing side and I helped build our current distribution channels. I just hope that this new group that has acquired Alea respects our wishes to keep the company running the way it has until now.

  My footsteps echo through the cavernous empty parking lot as I walk towards my car from the stairwell. I have always felt safe in this garage. We have a small office building and the parking lot is secure. Only someone with an access code can enter. Since Alea has a mostly female staff, safety was important when we hunted for office buildings.

  Tonight though, I feel a strange sensation as I walk through the empty lot, like I am being watched. I stop and scan the open space, my car being the only one still there. I don’t see anyone, and I chalk it up to my residual nerves from Friday.

  I pick up my pace as I fumble with my keys, hitting the button on my keyless entry to hear the comforting click of my car doors unlocking. I slide into my car as quickly as I can, letting out a huge sigh of relief as I lock the doors to my car and almost recklessly back out of my spot and drive away.

  Just then, my phone rings, startling me. I’m still jittery from the uneasy feeling I had in the parking lot. It’s Tiff. I debate answering the phone. I still haven’t told her about that night. At first I was convinced it would be moot since I was not going to go through with it, and I didn’t want her trying to change my mind. Then when it happened, I was so conflicted that I wasn’t ready to share the news with her. I figured eventually she’d get a discount and realize it was me, but Tiff has hundreds of friends. Lots of freaky friends. I am certain I am not the only referral she put out there.

  This whole Happy Kitty thing was supposed to go away. Unlike Tiff, who seemed to feel conflict-free elation about the whole thing, I am battling with what I did. But I have avoided her since the night she came to my place, and that’s not like me. So, I take a breath and answer her call through the Bluetooth system in my car.