Too Much Love - Cover

Too Much Love

Copyright© 2017 by Tom Frost

Chapter 74

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 74 - Nick Coyle grew up not knowing about the billion-dollar legacy waiting for him on his eighteenth birthday. Money isn’t Nick’s only legacy, though. A dark history of excess and tragedy hang over both sides of his family. With the world suddenly offering him too much of everything and only five close friends to guide him, will Nick survive?

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   Tear Jerker   Sharing   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Big Breasts   Size   Caution   Nudism   Politics   Prostitution   Royalty   Slow  

By the time he arrived at 85 Jay Street with Ceri on his arm, Simon Anderson was gaining a fresh appreciation of how a process could be nearly perfect and yet go completely off the rails at the same time.

Ceri had arrived at his apartment at the appointed time dressed to kill in a drapey blue dress cut to expose an oval of flesh centered on her pierced navel. It had sequins that sparkled when they caught the light and the way the color matched her eyes gave her a witchy, otherworldly look.

Simon didn’t mention any of that other than to say that she looked good. They didn’t have that kind of relationship and tonight would pretty much guarantee they never did. That worked fine for Simon. He wasn’t ready to let go of what he had with Shelby and having to maintain even a single genuine relationship involving emotions and even a hint of romance was exhausting. He would leave juggling more than one to Nick who seemed to enjoy it.

Ceri had arrived. They’d bantered. Simon had transferred the funds to her using their phones. They’d resumed bantering and headed out. If paying Ceri for sex was changing the nature of their relationship, Simon’s ability to read emotions lacked the granularity to detect it. If anything, Ceri seemed almost giddy at the promise of the night ahead.

Just before they left, Walt from Security called to say that Quinn Quartermain had arrived at the building and let herself into the apartment he was now heading for. He hadn’t expected her to show up in person, but assumed she would probably hide some recording device and leave. Regardless of what she had planned, Simon wasn’t worried. Walt told him that, as a precaution, Sveta (also from Security) had already positioned herself in the apartment and had Quinn under active surveillance.

To avoid having Blake and Felicity walk in on Quinn, Simon had arranged for a second apartment to be made available for them to wait in if they arrived ahead of Simon and Ceri. Building security had been sufficiently unconcerned by Quinn’s presence that they offered to send someone out to pick up additional refreshments for them while they waited and Simon had agreed, saying sarcastically that nothing was too good for his guests, particularly if Nick was paying for it. That led to a brief discussion with Ceri in which Simon had to clarify that Nick had not provided her thousand dollar fee except in the sense that he paid Simon’s salary and that Nick would probably not be happy to hear how Simon was spending that money.

Shortly after that, Simon had gotten word that his guests had arrived in the staging apartment and a few minutes later that the refreshments had also arrived and been accepted. On that last call, he’d asked if Quinn had left yet and been told that she was still in the apartment and stationary. When he’d asked for clarification, Walt had explained that Quinn had gone into the master bedroom and not emerged. Sveta had carefully looked into the room and determined that Quinn was probably hiding in the shoe closet.

At that point, they were still nearly a half-hour out, but Simon decided to call the whole thing off. Possibly being recorded having consensual sex with another man’s wife was one thing. Doing it while there was a psycho hiding in the closet was something else entirely. Simon had called Blake to say that they would have to try this another time and to explain why. Blake had told him to come anyway since he and Felicity were already there and even the staging apartment they’d been given to wait in was pretty swanky.

That conversation led to Simon explaining the whole thing to Ceri. He’d already told Blake and Felicity about Quinn (without using her name) and the possibility that she might be planning to record whatever went on in the apartment as a way to blackmail him and to reassure them that whatever recording devices she might place would be removed or made to conveniently malfunction before anything happened. Felicity had told him that he was free to leave the recording devices in place and that she’d be “sure to put on a good show.”

He hadn’t told Ceri about Quinn because in the original plan, Ceri would have never needed to know that this was more than a simple paid-in-advance sex swap with a pair of wealthy sadomasochists. After a brief display of pique and having been kept in the dark, Ceri peppered Simon with questions that led to him explaining his relationship with Blake and Felicity. That explanation led to an admission that he wasn’t over Shelby and was hoping that his time with Felicity could help him get more in touch with the side of himself that drew Shelby to him.

That conversation got them all the way to the building and probably could have gone on longer if the building had been farther away. Simon was just as glad to end it. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted from Cerulean Blue Katowitz, but he didn’t think it was armchair psychotherapy.

It had come out during the conversation that Ceri clearly thought Simon’s primary job in Nick’s organization was some kind of corporate espionage. Simon hadn’t disabused her of that notion partly because he suspected there was at least a grain of truth in it.

They found Blake and Felicity sitting on a couch drinking wine. Blake rose and came to shake Simon’s hand. “Glad you made it.”

Simon found it impossible not to return Blake’s big gregarious smile. Aside from being a financial genius and an unrepentant pervert, Blake also had a kind of overwhelming personal charisma that would normally make Simon quietly hate someone, but having that withering barrage of charm and good humor directed at him for an extended period of time had pretty much shredded Simon’s defensive hostility.

Ceri clearly felt the charm because she blushed and genuinely looked a little faint when Simon introduced them. Even though Simon had explained the arrangement in the car ride over, Ceri gave a little jump of surprise when Blake introduced Felicity as his wife but calmed down when Felicity kissed her on the cheek, embraced her gently and said, “I think we’re all going to have a lot of fun tonight.”

As they sat down, Simon looked around the room. He didn’t know much about interior design, but this place definitely seemed swankier than where he was living - dark hardwood floors, light-colored furniture with solid wood frames, a kitchen island with a built-in range, stainless steel refrigerator, granite countertops. The fact that it had a kitchen at all was a big upgrade from Simon’s apartment. He said, “I guess you’ve decided this apartment meets our needs?”

“It could, but we have another suggestion. Wine?” Felicity gestured with the bottle. Ceri picked up and held out a glass.

Simon shook his head. “What’s your suggestion?”

“We stick to the original plan,” said Blake.

“The ... original plan?” Simon frowned. “The one where Felicity and I have sex in the apartment currently containing a crazy woman hiding in a closet?”

“Is she crazy? You only said she was a spy. If she’s genuinely unbalanced, that is concerning,” said Blake.

“Well, she hides in closets. That seems like an early indicator,” said Simon.

“Spies hide in closets.” Felicity poured a generous glass of wine for Ceri. “When we met this weekend, did I mention I was an exhibitionist?”

“I don’t remember much past painslut,” Simon said dryly.

“Back when Blake and I were in our old club, we played out a number of scenes in which I was used while watched by unseen observers. I found the knowledge of being watched quite enhanced the experience,” said Felicity.

“What kind of club was this?” Ceri asked.

“It was a small group of like-minded friends who would often meet to help each other act out some of our more detailed sexual fantasies. That club didn’t last, but we’re hoping Simon might help us form a new club here in New York.” Blake spoke as he might if he’d been suggesting Simon recommend a Broadway show.

“Oh...” Ceri looked down into her wine. “I don’t know if I’m up for something like that. I only signed on for tonight.”

Blake gave her a knowing smile. “I’m delighted that you’re here tonight, Ceri. I had hoped Simon might bring someone to keep me company while he and Felicity get to know each other better ... if you’re amenable.”

“I ... yes,” Ceri blushed again.

“Good. If we’re all agreed, then...” Blake started to say.

“Wait! Can we go back to the part where I have sex in an apartment with a woman hiding in it?” Simon protested.

“Actually, we would be having sex in an apartment with two women hiding in it. In addition to your spy, Svetlana the security guard will be there keeping anything too untoward from happening to us,” said Felicity.

Simon frowned. “Did you guys talk to Walt about this?”

“Walt says he believes his team can keep the situation under control, but that the final go-no go call is yours, Simon,” said Blake.

Simon couldn’t believe he was the only person in the room who thought they shouldn’t do this. But Ceri was looking at Blake like she could already feel him inside of her and Felicity was looking at Simon, her pale skin flushed with excitement and her eyes radiating lust. Other than Shelby, Simon had never had a woman look at him like that and even Shelby had only done so once or twice during sex, not in anticipation.

He sighed, “Let’s get Walt in here.”

Walt arrived with a glossy brochure showing a map of the apartment where Quinn and Svetlana were currently playing some sort of slow-motion cat-and-mouse game. With colored Sharpies, he marked one bedroom with a red X and one with a blue X. “The red X is where our infiltrator is hiding. The blue X is Sveta. Their positions haven’t changed much in the last half hour.”

He drew a green X in a third room on the far side of the apartment. “This is a smaller bedroom. It’s on the far side of the living room and up a set of stairs. If you set up in here, the infiltrator would have to cross the living room, climb the stairs, and walk down a short hallway before she got to you. That gives Sveta plenty of time to intercept her if she tries something.”

“And you think this is a good idea? It doesn’t seem very safe,” Simon said.

“If she’s dangerous, it’s still probably safer than sitting across your desk from her was. She was only carrying a small purse and wearing a light jacket when she came in. That limits what kind of weapons she might be carrying. Svetlana’s armed and trained for this sort of situation and we have a response team right across the hall. It’s as safe as we can make it, but it’s your call,” said Walt.

This morning, Simon had thought the team Gibraltar maintained at the Loft were slightly-more-competent-than-average building security. He’d seen members of the team out in the neighborhood often enough to suggest that running into them was unlikely to be entirely random. Finding out that they were capable of sting operations and that Svetlana, who he’d thought of as “the hot blonde who works all the parties” was trained to deal with armed spies hiding in closets was a bit to take in all at once. Then again, this morning Simon himself had only been the math guy who sometimes dabbled in a bit of corporate espionage.

He sighed, “I am never going to be able to look Svetlana in the eye after this.”

Walt guffawed. “With all due respect, Sveta is specifically trained to take this kind of situation in stride and she’s been working at the Loft since the day we took over. If you could look her in the eye before, you should be fine after tonight.”

Simon sat back. He’d clearly been outmaneuvered, but it was from a position he’d been ambivalent about holding in the first place. He really wanted to fuck Felicity Ferrari-Stone. Apart from how their relationship might help him more thoroughly ensnare Shelby, she was pretty damned hot. Beyond that, every time she revealed a new kink, the dark part of Simon’s libido responded like a caged beast being shown a raw steak just out of reach. He said, “Fine, let’s go with the original plan.”

Blake was on his feet in a flash. “Great! Felicity and I will head upstairs and get ready.” He leaned down and kissed Ceri. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

The best Ceri could manage was an enthusiastic nod.

Blake crouched down, picked up a duffel bag, placed it on a side table, unzipped it, and extracted a sheath. He drew out the knife inside to show it to Simon. The serrated top edge made it look like the knife way too many of Simon’s classmates in Brownfield Mills had carried, but the blade was matte black with only the edge showing silver. He showed Simon the knife, then tucked it back into his sheath. “I brought some of Felicity’s favorite toys along - mostly things for tying and striking. Anything requiring advanced knowledge to use safely I left home ... except for this. You’ll need it if she pulls on her bonds to the point where they’re impossible to untie again - something she is inclined to do even when instructed not to. If the mood is right, you can threaten her with it, but I recommend against any actual cutting or even touching her skin with it. The blade is extremely sharp and even I have managed to cut her inadvertently while playing. There’s a first aid kit in with the toys in case you need it.” He handed Simon the knife. “Take this with you. It’s the only really lethal thing in the bag. Any questions?”

Simon looked down at the knife he’d accepted, then back up at Blake. His quant, the one he’d been discussing investment strategies with this morning, had just handed him a survival knife and recommended Simon not cut his wife with it. He had so many questions, he couldn’t organize them well enough to find a coherent one to ask. So, he said, “No, I think I’m as ready for this as I’m ever going to get.”

“Good man.” Blake slapped him on the shoulder just hard enough to show affection. “Give me fifteen minutes, then head up. I’ll have this little slut ready for you.”

As Blake led Felicity out of the apartment, Simon looked over at Walt who gave him a shrug that suggested all of this was just part of what he expected to encounter in the line of duty. Walt then excused himself to go make sure everything was in order.

As Walt closed the door behind him, Ceri sat back. “This is all pretty crazy, isn’t it?”

Simon whirled to look at her. “Now you say it’s pretty crazy? Where were you ten minutes ago when they asked me if I wanted to call it off?”

“My brain was in the middle of a very in-depth conversation with my ovaries. Why didn’t you tell me the guy you wanted to sleep with was him?” Ceri asked.

“Do you know him?” Simon asked.

“Never met him before in my life, but I’m pretty sure I’ve had some very explicit dreams about him over the years,” said Ceri.

Simon poured himself a full glass of wine. “Well, I’m glad he’s to your liking. If everything goes well and we all come out of this alive...” He took a long drink, having decided that getting some alcohol into his system immediately was more important than finishing the sentence.

“I didn’t see you rushing to turn down Felicity either,” Ceri pointed out.

“She is something,” Simon acknowledged.

“She is like a bitch in heat if the bitch got turned on by the idea of being tied up and watched by strangers. I hope you can handle her,” said Ceri.

“Thanks, extra pressure was exactly what I needed right now,” Simon took another mouthful of wine.

Ceri stroked his bicep. “You’ll be fine. Just be really mean to her, then fuck her.”

“Sounds like every relationship I’ve ever had. I guess I’ll just be myself,” said Simon dryly.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. I have no doubt you have it in you to be a terrible person, Simon, but you’re generally pretty all right. Did she really call herself a painslut the first time you met her?” Ceri asked.

“Yeah, she did,” said Simon.

“That’s not a woman who’s looking for subtlety. And whatever Blake has in that bag of toys, you’re unlikely to impress her with how much physical pain you can inflict. If you want to score us an invitation to play again, you should be really mean to her. That’s your strength,” said Ceri.

“Us?” Simon asked. To Ceri’s puzzled look, he added, “You said ‘if I want to score us an invitation.’ You don’t even know what’s going to happen tonight and you already want to do it again.”

Ceri shrugged. “So do you. And even if you don’t, I’m definitely making sure Blake has my number before we leave tonight.”

Simon laughed. “Jesus, Ceri. Who’s the bitch in heat now?”

Ceri held up a warning finger. “Save that for wifey-poo. Only Blake is allowed to call me that.”

Simon shook his head and drank his wine. “Maybe next time, we don’t invite the crazy spy with the shoe fetish.”

That got another shrug from Ceri. “Or maybe we do. Is she cute?”

Simon gave a snort of laughter. “No, she’s actually way beyond cute. Have you met Nick’s lawyer Ainsley?”

“Ainsley’s in the shoe closet?” Ceri asked, finally sounding alarmed.

Simon shook his head. “No, but Ainsley and the woman in the shoe closet bear an uncanny resemblance to each other. More than one person in the office has accidentally called her Cricket, assuming that’s who she was. Cricket is Ainsley’s little sister.”

“Do you think that’s a clue? In mystery novels, coincidences are usually clues,” said Ceri.

Simon shook his head. “If it is, it’s too subtle for me. She doesn’t look enough like Ainsley to be mistaken for her. Even if security mistook her for Cricket, that wouldn’t give her much more access than she has as herself. Cricket’s just a houseguest. This woman works in the legal department.”

“Is it that paralegal, Quinn something?” Ceri asked.

Simon scowled. He’d assumed Ceri wouldn’t know he was talking about. “Quartermain, yeah.”

“Yeah, she’s a weird one,” said Ceri.

“How did you meet her?” Simon asked.

“She’s in Pilar’s Zumba class. She was really interested in who I was and kind of cornered me in the locker room to give me the third degree,” said Ceri.

Simon frowned. “Who did you tell her you were?”

“I told her the truth - that I was a whore you hired to spy on Iamoda Capital after my sugar daddy John paid me to spy on you,” said Ceri. As Simon sputtered, she laughed. “Relax, I said I was a friend of yours and Shelby’s and that Pilar invited me to use the gym.”

Simon clutched his chest. “That was not funny. I’m really trying to save tonight’s heart attack for when Quinn jumps out at me and I have to try to stab her.”

Ceri shook her head, “Now that I know who we’re talking about, I don’t think she’s a psycho. I totally believe she’s a spy, though. She’s definitely a nosy bitch and that’s really halfway to being a spy anyway. Sometimes, a spy is just a nosy bitch who’s getting paid to repeat what she hears. That’s all I was originally supposed to do with you and Shelby.”

On the way upstairs, Simon thought about what Ceri had said. He’d been thinking in terms of neutralizing Quinn’s ability to do damage and finding out who she was working for, but not much about what came next. People at the ACCD fund were already grumbling about how she didn’t fit in and probably wouldn’t last, but of course they probably grumbled about Simon himself the same way.

For the amount of time he’d been on the scene, Nick already had an awful lot of experience dealing with spies, starting with Shelby and Ainsley and continuing on through Shiloh Fontenot-Stone. So far, he hadn’t sent any of them away. To the contrary, Shiloh had sat right next to him at Hamilton and now lived in the Loft with her husband. Nick was taking the maxim to keep his friends close and his enemies closer to its logical extreme. There had to be a calculus that said when you should abandon that strategy to avoid pushing your friends so far away that they couldn’t save you when the knives came out.

Still, it seemed unlikely that Nick would change his strategy on Quinn’s behalf. Most likely, regardless of what happened tonight or in the days to come, Simon should expect to keep seeing Quinn around for the foreseeable future. He needed to adjust his planning accordingly.

When he stepped into apartment 22A, Simon lost that train of thought immediately. His first thought was that the apartment probably had more square footage than the house he’d grown up in with Dennis and their parents, but that was quickly wiped out by the sight of Felicity Ferrari-Stone wearing only a blindfold, a tiny black thong, and probably handcuffs based on the position of her arms. She was kneeling on an area rug facing the door.

“Ah, good. You’re here,” boomed Blake standing behind her.

Simon remembered just in time that they were supposed to have arrived separately. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long?”

Blake stroked his wife’s hair. “Did he keep us waiting too long, slave?”

“No, master. Anticipation only makes the pleasure sweeter,” said Felicity. “But may I ask who you’re lending me to?”

“No. You may only address him as ‘sir.’ Even if you recognize him, he is only ‘sir.’ Is that clear, slave?” Blake demanded.

“Yes, master.” Felicity lowered her head.

“If you call him anything else, I expect him to stop whatever he’s doing to you immediately and return you to me in disgrace and failure. Is that clear?” Blake asked.

“Yes, master. I will only call him sir,” Felicity said. Simon understood the subtext. They’d never talked about safewords, but apparently his name or some version of “cut it out, you bastard” would be the cue that he should stop.

“Good, then I leave her in your capable hands. I’ve brought some of her favorite toys in that duffel bag. And if I may make a suggestion...” Blake offered.

“Sure,” said Simon.

“My slave is very proud of her grace and poise. Let her show you by walking up those stairs before you remove her blindfold or cuffs ... if you choose to remove either. There’s a very nice bedroom up there where you can use her as you see fit,” said Blake.

Simon couldn’t help but glance towards the master bedroom where Quinn was supposed to be hiding. If she was going to come running out and try to kill him, this was probably the moment she’d do it - when she realized they weren’t going anywhere near that room. No one emerged.

“Will do,” he said.

Blake handed Simon a handcuff key. “There’s another copy of this on the kitchen island if you need it. Please uncuff her before you send her back to me. The blindfold is up to you. But, do send her back in one piece, please. I’m rather attached to her.”

“I’d tell you I wasn’t planning to harm a hair on her head, but we both know that’s not true,” said Simon.

Blake clapped him on the shoulder. “One piece is all I ask.”

Simon had formulated a plan during the tableau of Blake handing Felicity over, but had no way to communicate it without breaking scene. He just hoped Felicity would catch on. He was relying on Ceri’s suggestion that the meaner he was, the more Felicity would enjoy herself and also that she would go along with whatever roleplay he came up with.

“What should I call you, slave?” Simon crossed the room to stand in front of her.

“This slave’s name is Felicity, sir,” said Felicity.

“I didn’t ask your name. I asked what I should call you,” Simon snarled.

“You should call me what it pleases you to call me, sir?” Felicity answered.

“What if it pleases me to call you whore? Are you a whore?” Simon demanded.

“I am if sir says I am,” Felicity said.

“I say you are, whore. Your master stands to make a truly obscene amount of money if he finds my favor. I hope he’s paying you well for tonight. You’re going to earn it,” Simon stood behind Felicity and stroked her hair.

“My master has promised me anything my heart desires if I please him and you, sir,” said Felicity.

“Always get cash in advance, whore. Stand up,” said Simon.

Felicity struggled awkwardly to her feet, but managed it with only a small stumble. Simon pressed himself up against her back and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Your master says you’re proud of your grace and poise. Climbing those stairs should be no challenge for you, even in your current state. Did he lie?”

“My master doesn’t lie, sir. Only ... will sir walk behind me to catch me if I should stumble?” Felicity asked.

Simon looked down at the bag of toys Blake had left. “Wait here and don’t move.” He picked up the bag, carried it up the stairs, and placed it inside the door of the guest bedroom. The whole time, he kept glancing back towards Felicity, but really he was watching the master bedroom. Sveta might be watching from the next room over, but Blake’s wife was standing naked, blindfolded, bound, and vulnerable. If Quinn tried something at that distance, she might reach Felicity before the security guard could stop her.

Simon wasn’t sure what he would have done if Quinn had come running out wielding a battle axe and screaming a warcry. He might have thrown the knife at her, but only as a distraction. Even if it weren’t still in the sheath, his chance of hitting her would be close to nil.

Either way, Quinn and Sveta stayed out of sight. When Simon returned to stand behind Felicity, he asked, “Are you still with me, whore?”

“I await your pleasure, sir,” said Felicity.

Having gotten this far without a snag, Simon couldn’t resist one further provocation. “You are very accommodating for a whore. It makes me wonder if there isn’t more to you than that.”

“Sir?” Felicity asked.

“Maybe you’re so accommodating because you’re playing both your master and me false. Maybe you serve some other man entirely and you’re here to spy on us for your true master,” Simon suggested.

“I have only one master, sir. He brought me here and told me to please you in whatever way you choose. How may I please you, sir?” Felicity asked.

Simon stood behind her and turned her bodily towards the stairs. “For now, you can please me by showing me how well you can climb those stairs blindfolded and cuffed. Once you get to the top, you can please me by letting me interrogate you to determine whether or not you’re a spy.”

“Sir, I would be a terrible spy blindfolded and cuffed like this,” Felicity said meekly.

“That sounds like exactly what a spy would say. Walk.” Simon swatted her ass.

Felicity took three strides forward before he called out. “Wait.” She finished the step she was taking and waited. Simon caught up with her and pressed up against her back. “Walk slowly enough that you don’t get away from me, whore. I want to be able to catch you if you fall.”

Felicity walked slowly forward and Simon stayed pressed against her back. Before each step, she ground her ass against his cock like she could get him to impale her without taking his pants off. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, he steered her body so she was facing them head on and whispered, “Step up.”

She did, paused, took another step, paused again, and took a third step up. Simon said, “Stop. I don’t think this is enough of a challenge for you, whore.” He cupped one breast and pinched the nipple hard, drawing a gasp. “Continue.”

On the next step, he cupped the other breast and pinched that nipple. Felicity ground against him, but made no sound. The next step, he pinched both nipples with more force. Felicity writhed and ground, but kept her footing.

Simon hadn’t thought far enough ahead. There were three more stairs and nowhere to escalate. He said, “I seem to have run out of breasts to play with before I ran out of stairs. Why don’t you have more breasts, whore?”

“Because I’m not a cat, sir,” said Felicity earnestly. “Typically, human women only have two.”

Simon had to fight not to laugh. “I know how many breasts human women have, whore. Would you like me to fuck you on these stairs for your impudence?”

“Yes, sir. That would please this whore greatly,” said Felicity.

Simon should have known better than to bluff there. Felicity probably could keep her balance while being fucked on a staircase, but Simon doubted that he could. If he tried it, he’d probably end up falling off and cracking his skull open. It would really ruin the impact of this sting operation if Quinn had to come running out and call an ambulance to keep him from bleeding to death. Thinking quickly, he said, “That’s why I’m not going to do it, whore. We’re not here for your pleasure. This is an interrogation.”

Felicity smiled like she might also be fighting the urge to laugh. “Yes, sir.”

They took the next three steps before Simon whispered to her that they were at the top and turned her toward the bedroom. As she continued to walk up the hall blindfolded and handcuffed, he whispered, “Is it okay if I punch you?”

“Yes please, just not in the face. I’ve always wanted a lover to give me a black eye, but we have a charity event this weekend,” whispered Felicity.

Simon’s dark beast howled and shook the bars of its cage like it thought it could break the lock. Simon shoved Felicity forward, caught her around the waist, and shoved again. Finally, Felicity fell, going down on one knee. Simon grabbed her by the upper arm, dragged her to her feet, and forced her to stumble into the bedroom. As she regained her footing, Simon spun her around and punched her in the stomach. It was a real punch, but he deliberately threw it from the shoulder while drawing back fractionally. It was still enough to double her over and knock the wind out of her.

The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.


Log In