It’s not the end, just the beginning of a new chapter

Life can be good. You can live with someone you love for years, build a home, raise children, and you think it will last forever.

Until the rug is pulled out from under you.

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“New friends. Social media. New influences you don’t know about.

Then she says, “I want a divorce. It’s not you, it’s me. I need to find myself. I need to find the person I could have been. The person I lost to our marriage.”

You can’t answer that. Your marriage ended after a conversation you weren’t allowed to be part of.

You’re then left floundering. You’re cut adrift from the life you took for granted. The life you thought you would be living with the person you loved, who gave you no indication they were unhappy.

Your divorce is finalised while you’re still numb. Your home is sold- the home your children grew up in. Memories turned to cash. The money you saved, the pension you earned, goes to someone who didn’t earn it.

You look at her social media, and you see her living her best life. Her holidays. Her girls’ nights out. A new man. Another new man. The way she smiles at the camera. Her posts declare, “Loving my freedom!”

Her friends congratulating her.

Freedom.

That’s the part that hurts the most.

Freedom from what?

Me? Our children? Our future?

Her freedom built from my hard work.

She lives her life while I feel nothing but shame- shame of having to start again when you least expect it.

Two years of hiding away. Two years of seeing her happy while you stay alone in the small house you were forced to buy, unable to face anyone. Forgotten by the mother of your children.

Then, you see it. Her smiles had become strained. You’ve known this woman for nearly thirty years. I know when she’s pretending. Your children confirm your suspicions: she’s unhappy.

Her freedom is now demanding accountability.

Men had become disposable for her. Now they were absent from her photos. The money paying for her freedom is gone.

But she’s still not yet ready to pay for her freedom. You hear she’s angry, bitter. Her narrative changes and your history with her changes again.

She’s angry with you because you didn’t fight hard enough for her to stay, when nothing would have persuaded her. You had abandoned her instead of her leaving you.

She’s now a victim. Life is hard alone. The loneliness is too much to bear. There are no good men left in the world. Her new friends who encouraged her to leave are in happy relationships and no longer have time for girls’ nights out.

She doesn’t want to hear about the life she left behind. The man she discarded, who gave her the security she craved above all else, loved her more than anything.

Then you realise it was never about you. You weren’t holding her back. She didn’t lose herself because of you.

And despite her “Freedom”, she still hadn’t found herself because she never knew who she was in the first place. She ran away. She abandoned everything for a superficial life and called it freedom.

Then your mind goes back through your marriage, and you realise she was never there for you. Your love for her blinded you. She expected you to give, and she gave so little in return.

That’s when your strength returns. It’s when you realise you were enough; you weren’t responsible for someone else’s deficiencies, not even your wife’s. You weren’t supposed to be there to fix her.

Slowly, your chin lifts. Your pride returns. Suddenly, your small house becomes your home, and you like it after all. It becomes a project. You decorate it. You place photos on the wall. Your home now becomes a symbol of your resilience, not your failure.

Then you smile again.

That smile is so important. It’s what makes you feel like a man again. It makes you want to step outside, to stand up straight.

And you find yourself.

You feel bewildered, can’t believe what happened.

It wasn’t your ex-wife who lost herself in your marriage. It was you. You dedicated your life to trying to make someone happy who could never be happy.

At that moment, she is gone from your life forever. You become indifferent to her struggles. You know you’re happier without her, and you can truly start again.

Resilience is a journey. It starts with grief and ends with the happiness you should have known all along.

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A Halloween Smutty Horror Story

Mark’s mother, Theresa, insists he accompany her to a Halloween party thrown by her new friend, Ophelia, to get him out of the house after breaking up with his cheating ex-girlfriend. After drinking a strange drink she gives him, he finds he has no choice.

With his free will taken, to his horror, Mark discovers the party isn’t a party. Instead, his mother has given him as an offering so she can join Ophelia’s witches’ coven. Once his mother has left the room, Mark finds himself forced to perform unspeakable sex acts on the witches all night as they hungrily drink his cum.

The following morning, Theresa tells Mark the full horror of her son’s fate and the witchcraft she used to make his ex-girlfriend cheat on him; he is now a companion of Ophelia’s coven and must give the witches of the coven his cum so they can stay young, and he can’t refuse.

An erotic story of witchcraft and sex.

Chapter 1 is free to read. Chapters 2–5 require a subscription

The Offering

Chapter 1

“Mark, sweetheart, are you planning to go to a Halloween Party tonight?” Theresa asked her son, feigning disinterest as they ate breakfast together. But the way she buttered her toast and raised an eyebrow showed his answer did matter to her.

Mark shook his head in reply with a grouchy expression.

“So, you’re going to a bar with your friends?”

“No,” Mark replied with a mouthful of cereal, his grouchy expression deepening, refusing to look at his mother. “I’m staying in.”

Theresa smirked to herself, happy that he gave her the answer she wanted, before she told him brightly, “In that case, I want you to accompany me to a party a new friend of mine is throwing this evening.”

“Mum!” Mark whined, refusing to obey his mother like a little boy. “I’m not in the mood. I want to stay in and watch a horror film or play video games. I’m not in the mood to go to a party with your witchy friends.”

“Mark, don’t be rude!” Theresa told her son firmly in a chastising tone. “And don’t talk about them in that way. My friends are very important to me. Anyway, it has been over a month since you split up with Jenny. You can’t stay in and play video games all the time like you always do,” Mark began to protest, but was silenced by his mother’s raised finger. “No, Mark! It’s all you’ve been doing since you moved back in with me. You’re a young man. You need to live your life. Your life isn’t over just because she broke up with you. You are coming with me, and that’s that. I won’t hear another word of complaint.” She then added slyly, “It’s for your own good. I promise it will be worth your while.”

“Fine!” Mark huffed. He knew he wasn’t going to win. When she was in this mood, he knew it was impossible to argue with her.

Mark had moved back in with his mother after he caught his girlfriend of four years, Jenny, chatting to other guys on a Discord server and sending them nude pictures of herself. Of course, it was all Mark’s fault. He was emotionally distant. He wasn’t fulfilling her needs. She hadn’t been happy for a long time. They had lived together for three of those four years; they even had adopted a dog, but she hadn’t once expressed to him that she was unhappy.

Mark was prepared to forgive Jenny and reconcile if she stopped sending nudes to other men, but she flatly refused and broke up with him. He then had to spend three horrible months living with Jenny until the lease on the apartment they rented expired, while she began sleeping with random men. He slept in the spare room, kept awake at night listening to the grunts and moans of Jenny and whoever she had hooked up with.

Seeing the hookup’s smug face in the morning only drove the dagger of Jenny’s betrayal even further into his already wounded heart. Mark still didn’t understand why Jenny did the things she did. He knew he wasn’t bad-looking or in bad shape, so he had no idea why he suddenly wasn’t good enough for her. It made no sense.

So here he was, in his late twenties, back living with his mother again. After Jenny’s betrayal, returning to live with his mother made him even more depressed. It made him feel like a failure. To cope, he began focusing on himself. He readily admitted he had become vain and often posed in front of the mirror.

Mark now went to the gym religiously. For a reason he didn’t even know himself, he had begun to get his chest and balls waxed. His physique went from not bad to visibly defined. He got admiring glances and comments for his efforts, but after what Jenny had done to him, he still lacked the confidence to date any woman who approached him. His social life was non-existent.

Theresa lived alone before Mark moved back in. She had never married, and Mark never knew his father. His mother never mentioned him. Whenever Mark asked his mother about his father, she vaguely said his father was an ex-boyfriend she lost touch with after he skipped town before she realised she was pregnant. Mark never felt the need to find him.

That evening, Mark arrived home from work to find a new suit hanging in his room and dinner already prepared.

“What’s with the suit?” he asked his mother with a sense of dread as they ate. The one thing he didn’t want was attend a party with his mother’s friends. “Is it a black-tie party we’re going to?” he asked his mother as they ate.

“It’s not quite black-tie. You won’t have to wear a bow tie, but it’s certainly one where we will need to dress up,” she replied excitedly. “Put it this way, it’s an exclusive Halloween party. You’ll be going as a suave devil. It’s been a long time since we have both gone out dressed up together. Not since you were a little boy. It’ll be fun!”

Mark’s eyes quickly narrowed with suspicion. “You’re not trying to set me up with the daughter of one of your new friends, are you? I’m still not ready to date after Jenny.”

“Mark, why would you ever think that?” Theresa asked with wide-eyed innocence.

“Well, I don’t know, you’re making me dress in a suit, you told me it would be worth my while, and it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to set me up with somebody’s daughter!” he replied, counting off, sarcastically, each point with his fingers.

“Don’t be silly, Mark!” Theresa said, sounding exasperated. “Sometimes your imagination runs wild. It always has, ever since you were a little boy. I promise, I’m not trying to set you up with the daughter of one of my new friends. And I only tried to set you up once. I learnt my lesson from that.”

“And what is this weird drink?” he demanded as he ate, waving his glass in the air with a creamy liquid inside.

“Just something to take the edge off you,” Mark’s mother sighed. “You’ve been in such a grumpy mood since you moved back in with me. You’re supposed to be a suave devil tonight, and you can’t be that with your sour face.”

“Thanks, Mum!” he replied irritably as he downed his drink in one after he finished his meal. A confused expression covered his face as a strange, warm feeling suddenly came over him. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He felt calm, but the calmness had an unpleasantness about it he couldn’t describe.

“What did you say was in this drink?” he asked his mother again, but more worriedly, as he started to become light-headed. “I’m feeling weird.”

“I didn’t, sweetheart,” his mother said, smiling at him. “I just said it was something to take the edge off your bad humour. Trust me, you will enjoy the evening so much more now you’ve drunk it.” She gave a small yet sinister laugh that Mark had never heard from her before, sending a shiver down his spine. “Now, take a shower, then come to my room before you dress.”

Mark didn’t know why, but he felt strongly compelled to obey his mother. He still had that warm, unpleasant feeling, but it now felt as if his body wasn’t his own.

Once showered, he wrapped a towel around his waist and found his mother in her dressing gown in her bedroom.

“I see you haven’t wasted your time in the gym. You will be popular tonight!” she told him with another sinister laugh when she saw his toned and muscular physique. An uncomfortable compliment you would never want to hear from your mother. “Come here! I must paint something on your body.”

Mark obeyed his mother unwillingly again, unable to stop himself. She was behaving peculiarly, and he didn’t like it, but he was unable to resist’

Theresa began painting some strange symbols onto her son’s chest and stomach. Mark hissed in pain as he could hear and feel the paint sizzle and burn into his skin. His body wouldn’t move to escape, no matter how much he willed it to. Something didn’t feel right, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

On the outside, he appeared calm and relaxed, but on the inside, he was now screaming in fear of his mother.

His mother continued painting the symbols diligently onto him, unconcerned by her son’s pain or fear. Her brow furrowed with concentration as if it were of great importance.

“Good!” Theresa said happily, inspecting her work. “Once the paint dries, the designs will be permanent. Now, a couple more things,” she sprayed him with a scent before placing some red plastic horns on his head with a little giggle. “Go and get dressed. Wait for me downstairs.” Her tone now had a firmness to it, as if it were an order, not a request to her son.

Dressed in his suit, Mark, in a daze, waited in the living room for his mother. Despite his stupor, Mark could feel the suit fit him perfectly. It was obviously expensive. There wasn’t a tie with the suit, so Mark had left the collar button undone. In the back of his mind, everything was screaming that this was wrong, but there was nothing he could do about it. His body still would not obey him.

He had no idea how long he waited. His attention, though, was grabbed by the creaking of the stairs. Seconds later, his mother appeared, looking glamorous. She was wearing a tight, knee-length black dress. A small witch’s hat adorned her head.

“Let’s go, Mark,” Theresa told him with a big, bright smile. She undid a couple of extra buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his chest. “You’re supposed to be a suave devil, sweetheart. You must, at least, give the ladies a hint of your toned body.” Noticing he still wasn’t happy, she said, “Cheer up, Mark! I promise you, you’ve never had a night like this. My friends are going to love you!” The way his mother said it made Mark deeply uncomfortable, but he still obediently followed her out of their home.

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A Billionaire | A Union Official | A History | A Negotiation

Chapter 4

Lara held Reece. Keeping him inside her. She quietly wept into his shoulder. Her feelings and emotions had become too intense for her to control.

“What’s wrong?” Reece asked, with gentle concern as he rolled off her.

“Nothing,” Lara replied, sliding into him to rest her head on his shoulder to feel his warmth. “Everything.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why did we do it?”

“I did it because I missed you,” Reece told her, in his way that she knew he was keeping his own emotions in check.

“Don’t, Reece! You can’t possibly mean that.”

“When I saw you again today, all the feelings I had for you came back to me. We’re older, but to me you still looked the same.”

“Christ! Now you’re being ridiculous.”

Reece shook his head. “No. I spent years after we broke up trying to find someone like you, but I couldn’t, and I gave up. Then I saw you again, and I found her.”

“I broke your heart!”

“It was the best thing you ever did for me.”

“Are you serious!”

“Yeah,” Reece whispered, with a wry smile. “It made me confront many things in my life I needed to. Like how my father treated me, for one. How I was constantly looking for the approval that he was never going to give me. I would never have become as successful as I am if you hadn’t broken up with me.”

“So, you’re telling me that breaking up with forced you into therapy?” Lara laughed in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Lara replied quietly, feeling guilty for laughing at Reece pain. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. I know how difficult your relationship with your father was.”

“Well, therapy was a big help. It helped me realize what he said was about him, not me. He wanted to make me as unhappy as he is. If I hadn’t come to terms with that, then I never would have had the confidence to work my way up the company.”

“At least he recognized how good you were in the end.”

“What?”

“He saw your talents in the end and handed the company to you. I read about it. I was pleased for you.”

It was Reece’s turn to laugh now. “He didn’t hand me the company; that was the PR spun by the company. He was thrown out in a boardroom coup.”

“You didn’t!” Lara sat up abruptly to look at Reece incredulously, astonished by his ruthlessness.

“You should have seen his face when I won the vote.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“He was forced to retire,” Reece said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I haven’t seen him in years, so I have no idea what he’s doing now, and I’m happier for not seeing him. After he left the company, Mom left and divorced him. She quit drinking and is happier. I‘m proud of her.”

Lara smiled and kissed him. “I’m proud of you.”

“Why did you sleep with me?” Reece asked. “You almost dragged me to my car.”

“I didn’t drag you!” she snapped irritably, lying back down in his arms. “I don’t know. You brought back a lot of memories too. Happy ones. I didn’t just want to sleep with you. I wanted to feel this again.”

“Feel what?”

“This! Us being alone together. I always found it comforting,” Lara told him. “Sometimes I get lonely. When we kissed outside the restaurant… I couldn’t fight it any longer. And…”

“And?”

“I volunteered to negotiate on behalf of the union because I wanted to see you again,” she confessed reluctantly. “I was curious. I wanted to see how you were. I’m happy you’ve found peace.”

“Peace, maybe,” Reece agreed. “I do get lonely, sometimes too.”

“Lonely? You? You could have anyone.”

“I never wanted anyone?

“Reece, no!”

“I have something for you,” he told Lara, reaching inside the drawer of the table next to his bed. “Close your eyes… give me your hand… now open them.”

Lara opened her eyes and stared dumbfounded at the ring on her finger.

“What is this?”

“What does it look like?”

“Christ, Reece,” Lara told him despairingly. “What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“But we’ve changed so much. We’re not the same people anymore.”

“We’re older. We have successful careers, but we’ve just proven we’re still good for each other.”

“But marriage…”

“Why not?”

“Well, apart from that, this is probably the worst marriage proposal ever; we barely know each other anymore.”

“If it helps, you can have everything you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“The compensation, overtime payments and the medical bills. Health and safety are already being implemented, and I’ve fired the previous project managers.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Reece nodded.

“You’re actually saying that you’ll give us everything we want if I agree to marry you… FUCK YOU!” Lara cried, furious at what he said.

“What’s wrong?”

“You think I’ll accept your marriage proposal with… what… grandmother’s engagement ring just because you’ll give our members what they’re owed if I do? That’s coercion!”

“No! That’s not what I meant.” Reece sat up to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to Lara. His head hung down, unable to look at her. “I’m sorry!” he said in distress, now realizing how much he had screwed up. “I didn’t mean to coerce you. That’s something my dad would have done. He coerced my mom to marry him and coerced her to stay married to him. I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what did you mean?” Lara’s anger showed no sign of going anywhere.

Reece slowly turned to face Lara’s fury. “Do you remember how we used to talk? We… I mean, you used to say you wanted to change the world. You had so much fire in you that I wanted to change it with you.”

Lara blinked at what Reece said. “You want me to give up everything I’ve worked so hard for so you can help me do what was nothing more than a kid’s pipe dream?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Reece! You’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t, Lara! I’m being sincere.”

“So, you’re offering me a job?”

“No, I’m offering you a partnership. An equal partnership.”

“No, Reece!”

“Lara, for once, will you stop fighting me? Stop pushing me away when I’m trying to help you.”

“I’m not a…”

“Charity case? When have I ever thought of you as that? I’m offering you an equal partnership. You with the ideas and drive. I have the money and political contacts. I’m offering you your dream. I’m offering you the chance to change the world to how you want it.”

“How are you going to do that and run a business? How will you reconcile the conflict of interest?”

“I’ll quit.”

“What?” Lara stared speechless at Reece.

“For you, I’ll quit.”

“Reece, you can’t. What about your dreams? You can’t throw away everything you’ve worked for.”

“I can. The company isn’t my dream. It’s my revenge on my father, to prove I’m better than him. The board can easily replace me. I’ll sell my stock. Once I give in to your demands, they’ll want to get rid of me anyway.”

“Oh, Reece! Why?” Lara cried with sadness at his wasted life. “You’ll give me all that if I accept your grandmother’s engagement ring.”

“It’s not my grandmother’s. It’s your ring. I bought it for you. That night you broke up with me. I had it in my pocket. I was going to propose to you.”

Lara closed her eyes, her anger turning to hating herself. “Oh my god, Reece! Thanks for making me feel like an asshole.”

“Everything about you is saying no,” he said, expecting the worst. “But you haven’t taken off the ring.”

“Once the union finds out about you, me and what we did tonight, they’ll fire me,” Lara sighed before she stared at Reece long and hard. “We’ve been negotiating our future, you know that?”

“It was inevitable for us.”

“Do you think we can love each other like we used to? If I say yes, it will be a huge risk for both of us. I don’t want this if we can’t love each other.”

“I know I’ll love you. More than before. I’m prepared to risk everything for us, give up everything for us.”

“What about you?”

“I want what you want.”

“No, Reece,” Lara told him, shaking her head. “You’ve lived your life under your dad’s shadow, either constantly seeking his approval or trying to prove to him you’re better than he is. I’m not going to replace your dad by having you live under mine. I’m not going to marry you like that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I need you… I need you to dream. I need you to want something so badly that you can’t live without it, so I can help you achieve it. An equal partnership. That’s what you said. It won’t be if we only chase my dreams.”

“There is one thing.”

“Tell me!” Lara demanded encouragingly.

“It’s nothing really.”

“It must be something for you to mention it.”

“It’s not much of a business. More of a side project of mine. It doesn’t make much of a profit and is more like a charity, but that isn’t the point.”

“Reece!”

“It’s a small construction subsidiary that constructs and renovates buildings that help communities. Drug rehabilitation centres, places for kids to hang out, that sort of thing. I want to do more with it, but I don’t have the time,” he told her bashfully. “What?” he asked, seeing her smile at him.

“You’re the most unlikely billionaire I’ve ever met,” she said happily. “Most want to close those places to build exclusive apartments. You’re the first I know who wants to build them. You should do more with it if it means so much to you. You might have political contacts, but I have contacts who do real work. They might provide their labour for free or cheaply for work like that.”

“I’ll need to buy the company first.”

“I know you’ll buy it.” Lara softly kissed Reece. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Making me remember why I fell in love with you.”

“I thought it was because you had enough of me chasing you.”

“I did like you chasing me,” Lara replied, shrugging coyly. “Do you think it can work between a billionaire and a working-class girl?”

“Reece and Lara can work. That’s who we are. Just don’t push me away again when I try to help you,” he pleaded.

“That was a mistake,” she admitted, knowing he was referring to her father. “I let my pride get in the way.”

“Will you let me help you now?”

Lara nodded.

“Have we successfully negotiated our marriage? Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.”

“Lara Gordon, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied, pulling him back down onto the bed with a kiss.

The End

A Billionaire | A Union Official | A History | A Negotiation

Chapter 3

“Where do you live?” Reece asked Lara nervously as they sat in the back seat, his chauffeur waiting to know where to take them. He looked at them in the rear-view mirror, waiting for directions.

List: A Negotiated Romance | Curated by Sean Dalton | Medium

“Take me to your home,” she replied irritably, refusing to look at Reece. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said again.

They didn’t say another word as they were driven through the city. The buildings rose high above them. Lara stared out of the window at the people wandering the streets at night, knowing she was making a mistake, but it was a mistake she couldn’t stop herself from making. He had brought something out in her that meant she couldn’t resist him.

She didn’t want Reece to know, but seeing him brought back old feelings and memories too. Reece said she intrigued him, but she had found him intriguing since they first met as college seniors when they opposed each other for a debate on employment ethics. He was the pampered frat boy who didn’t appear to fit in anywhere.

Reece had a smile for everyone. Everyone had a smile for Reece. Everyone wanted to be with Reece, yet it was obvious he had no real friends.

The only person who didn’t smile for Reece was Lara. The only one who didn’t want to be with Reece was Lara. But for reasons unknown, he was drawn to her. She was a working-class girl. A girl he had nothing in common with, yet she was the person Reece wanted to be with most of all.

He pursued Lara. She tried to put him off, but the more she pushed him away, the more he kept pursuing her. To keep him quiet, she agreed to one coffee date. That only encouraged him. They later went out for dinner. She insisted on fast food to put him off. It didn’t work.

Nights alone watching movies failed to dissuade him.

She did her best to bring him to her world, assuming he would hate it. He didn’t. He wanted to know more.

In a moment of weakness, she slept with Reece. Afterwards, she wept with the awful realisation that she was in love with him and he with her.

She threw the last dice she had. She invited him to meet her parents.

To her frustration, that failed too. He and her parents got on. Her frustration quickly disappeared when she saw something unexpected in him: jealousy.

Reece wanted for nothing. He had every opportunity handed to him. He didn’t need to work for anything. None of that mattered.

He was jealous of a working-class, scholarship girl who had to bust a gut to get where she was. When she graduated, she would have to bust a gut again. She would have to bust a gut every day for the rest of her life, like her parents did, because that’s what working-class people had to do to survive.

Only when she met Reece’s family did she understand. Love was absent in his family. The love she grew up with and took for granted. His father belittled him in front of her. His mother drank. Reece forced himself to smile. His siblings were absent, in Europe, South America, and Japan. They were as far from home as possible. He was from a beautiful, luxurious, unhappy world.

It broke her heart. It broke her heart knowing they couldn’t have a future. Reece was from a world she could never be part of.

He didn’t need to tell her how much breaking up had hurt him. She knew before they broke up. Lara knew how much it would hurt her. He needed her. She liked how he needed her. To avoid the hurt, she allowed their relationship to continue after they graduated.

She was happy. They were happy.

That was until her father’s accident. Afterwards, she knew what she needed to do with her life. She needed to fight the injustices working-class people faced to earn an honest living. That meant there was no room for Reece.

She thought that when she saw him with his sad smile, masking the pain in his eyes, it was the last time she would see him. That hurt more than anything. She loved him. She found she couldn’t love anyone as much as she had loved him. It was why she was still single.

“Take the car home and bring it back on Monday,” Reece told his chauffeur kindly after they got out of the car. “I won’t need anything more tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” the chauffeur replied as he held open the car door for his passengers.

“You live in your office?” Lara said, with an unimpressed expression, looking up when she saw they had arrived at the same building where their negotiations had failed spectacularly earlier.

“I have a penthouse at the top,” he explained with a shrug. “It makes sense to be near my office.”

Reece used a keycard to enter the empty building. He held the door open for Lara.

“Michael, Charlie,” he greeted the security guards, who only nodded their greeting in return. “This elevator,” he told Lara, guiding her.

The ride up to Reece’s penthouse was silent. Their heavy breaths showed restraint. Electricity sparked between their twitching fingers.

When the elevator doors opened and they entered Reece’s apartment, the dam broke.

Their lips crashed into each other. Their restraint and self-control went disappearing into hell. Reece pushed Lara against the wall, holding her arms above her head, his open mouth on her open mouth. His tongue touched hers.

Lara couldn’t resist. She didn’t want to resist.

“Please, not here,” Lara begged with a sigh, feeling Reece’s lips on her neck. Her body warm with desire.

Reece released her.

Clothes were then discarded, torn from each other’s bodies, to be left scattered on the floor as they kissed and fumbled their way to the bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, they found lost memories. They were older, yet the forgotten comfort they gave each other was the same: the curve of her body, the firmness of his chest, the softness of her breasts, the hardness of his cock.

For the briefest of moments, they looked in each other’s eyes. They saw who they used to be.

In one motion, Reece unfastened Lara’s bra, tossing it aside as his lips turned their attention to her breasts, then her abdomen. His lips set her body on fire.

His fingers were in the elastic of her panties, drawing them down her legs with an agonising slowness.

Her toes were then his mouth. His kiss on her feet, ankles, inside of her thighs.

Lara’s body undulated. The sensations Reece was giving her were all she needed to know. Her pussy was telling her what she wanted. Sight was an unnecessary distraction when all you needed to do was feel.

“Christ, Reece!” she moaned, finally feeling his mouth and tongue that she had impatiently waited for. A hand gripped his hair, wanting to make his escape impossible.

Reece explored every part of Lara’s pussy. Her taste hadn’t changed. His desire for her had never left him.

He knew Lara had orgasmed. It wasn’t just the feeling of her cum around his mouth or her sigh. It was her intake of her breath, her grip of the bedsheets and how her body tensed before easing into contentment.

Lara sat up, lifting Reece’s head to her lips.

She then lay back to rest her head on the pillow, encouraging Reece to join her. Their eyes met, not with a look of desire, but with an agreement. A negotiation. A look that said they needed to do this.

Lara sighed, smiling, as she felt Reece’s cock stretch and fill her. Memories. Nostalgia. Happiness. A sensation that many things hadn’t changed. How they made love. How Reece often infuriated her. How she loved him for it. How he cared for her. How important he made her feel. How she kept that hidden from him.

But many things had changed. She had changed. She could no longer give him what she did when they dated. She was someone else. So was he. Were they better people? She didn’t know.

God! What were they doing?

Why did Reece have to rekindle all these old feelings? They should have been left in the past.

All this self-doubt brought tears to Lara’s eyes.

Holding his head in her hands, she kissed him with feeling.

Reece made love to her slowly, intending their lovemaking to last forever.

Lara’s orgasms weren’t earth-shattering. They were soft. They gave her warmth and comfort to her. A warmth and comfort she needed. They were orgasms only Reece had been able to give. Other men had tried their best, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t because Lara didn’t want them to.

A terrible realization then came to her when Reece grunted, and she felt him cum inside her.

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A Billionaire | A Union Official | A History | A Negotiation

Chapter 2

Reece calmly swirled the last of his red wine as he watched Lara opposite him. She stared back at him with irritation. The plates with the remains of their meals waited for the server to clear them away.

List: A Negotiated Romance | Curated by Sean Dalton | Medium

Their table was just for the two of them, in a private area of the restaurant with a personal server. It was a place reserved only for people like Reece who could afford it without worrying about the price. Lara felt deeply uncomfortable just being there.

“Are we going to negotiate now, Reece?” she demanded expectantly. Her bag containing her documents sat on the floor beside her.

“Negotiate what?”

“What the hell, Reece! You know what, or have we wasted our time today? You owe compensation. You owe overtime. You owe wages. It’s time for your company to take some fucking accountability.”

Reece laughed wryly and finished his wine. “Have you ever thought about us?”

“Us? ‘Us’ was a long time ago.”

“To me, it still feels like yesterday.”

“Jesus Christ, it was almost fifteen years ago.”

“We were good together. We were going to change the world.”

“We were kids. We’re different people now. You’re a billionaire, and I’m…”

“The same fiery woman I fell in love with.”

“What’s this about, Reece? What are we doing here? What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, sounding despondent, suddenly becoming unsure about himself. “Seeing you again brought back a lot of memories. We were good together.”

“Good together? We argued nonstop. Your family didn’t approve of me. They would never have allowed you to be with me.”

“As I remember it, you broke up with me.”

“It was for the best for both of us. We were never going to work. You were going to work for your father. You wanted to take over his business, and you did. You needed to be with some well-dressed sorority girl with a pretty smile from a rich family who would be happy to attend business dinners and garden parties at your side.”

“If I wanted that, I would have been married to her already, and I wouldn’t have asked you to dinner,” he told her pointedly.

“I was a working-class girl. I didn’t fit in your world,” Lara retorted dismissively.

“I’ve never fitted in my world, and I grew up in it. I still don’t. Why do you think I’m still single? I wanted us to build our own world. You made a decision that affected both of us without discussing it with me. That wasn’t fair.”

“Oh my god, Reece! Are you seriously trying to rehash some old trauma that you should have got over years ago?” she asked him incredulously. “Anyway, I needed to help my father. I didn’t have time for you. Being with me would have been worse.”

“I could have helped.”

“He needed care.”

“I could have got that for him.”

Lara looked at Reece in exasperation.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Your father.”

“He has more good days now than bad. He’s still paying for his medical bills.”

“He once said to me, ‘The rich giving money for good causes means shit if they don’t know where it goes.’ I bet he doesn’t remember telling me that, but I’ve never forgotten. It put a rich kid who was full of himself in his place.”

Lara laughed at Reece’s memory. “That sounds like something he would have said, and he would have enjoyed putting you in your place.”

“He’s a good man, an honest man. It hurt, you know.”

“What did?”

“When you broke up with me. It hurt like crazy. It hurt even more when you didn’t even reply when I offered to help your father.”

“What could you have done?”

“I could have paid his medical bills. I could have paid for lawyers to get the compensation he was owed. That would have been my good cause; I would have known where the money was going to.”

“We weren’t a charity case, Reece!” Lara told him, offended that Reece even said it.

“Did you think so little of me? I offered because I loved you. I offered because I respected your dad. I offered because it was the right thing to do.”

“Don’t make me feel guilty for what happened to my father. That’s not fair,” Lara said to Reece angrily, her eyes moistening as she felt him getting under her skin.

Reece shrugged despondently. “Like I said, seeing you again brought back memories. I don’t think I’m so different from how I was. What made me different was meeting you. Meeting you made money, for the first time in my life, seem unimportant.”

“I don’t believe this!” Lara exclaimed angrily, tears welling in her eyes, not wanting to talk about their past.

“At least tell me if you loved me.”

“Don’t make me do this, Reece!”

“Please, Lara.”

“I did love you,” Lara confessed quietly, losing her anger. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Breaking up with you was the hardest thing I ever did. I saw what it did to you. I never replied because I was too scared to have you back in my life.”

“Why?” Reece croaked, his heartbreak returning after all these years.

“Because if I did, I could never have become who I am. After Dad’s accident. After how he was treated. It gave me clarity for what I wanted to do with my life, and I wasn’t sure I would ever have had time for you.”

“Are… are you with someone?” Reece asked nervously.

“Would I be here if I was? I should go. Let’s cool down over the weekend and restart the negotiations on Monday.”

Reece nodded slowly in reluctant agreement and paid the cheque.

“Goodnight, Lara,” he told her with a sad smile as they stood outside the restaurant.

Lara’s shoulders dropped, and her resolve broke. Reece’s smile. She hated that smile. That smile, the same sad smile he gave her when she broke up with him. The smile he always gave whenever his father publicly told him how disappointed he was. The smile that he always gave to hide how hurt he was. The smile that never fooled her into thinking he was happy.

She opened her arms and took him into her embrace. She held him tight. They held each other for what felt like an eternity.

They pulled away, then came back to each other. Their lips pressed together. Beautiful memories flashed back into their minds. Cold nights at home, making love while forgetting to watch the movie. Summer sunset beach walks. Lying in bed, staring into each other’s eyes. Buried perfect moments, hiding the pain their memories brought them.

Lara reached up and caressed his cheek. She looked over his shoulder and saw his butler and chauffeur waiting with the car door open.

“You’re an asshole! I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” she murmured, taking his hand to lead him to his car.

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A Billionaire | A Union Official | A History | A Negotiation

Chapter1

Reece Chaney sat at the end of the conference table, staring quietly and calmly at Lara Gordon, his adversary, at the other end. His expression was hard and dark. Lara stared back, determined and unyielding.

Around them was fury and pandemonium. Voices were raised; fingers were pointing. No one was prepared to back down.

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The workers at Reece’s construction company were on strike mid-project. Unpaid labourers, unpaid overtime and health and safety issues caused friction amongst the workers. A site accident had pushed everyone over the edge, forcing the union to get involved.

The failure to negotiate in good faith during already tense talks led the union to walk out of negotiations, then call a strike.

A construction project worth hundreds of millions of dollars was now at risk. Reece Construction was suffering from bad press, and even Reece Chaney’s reputation was on the line. Investors were nervous. They threatened to withdraw their investments if the negotiations with the union failed.

The prospect of losing the project’s investment forced Reece Chaney to take control of the negotiations to find a resolution with the union. He fired the project managers responsible for the site issues after they botched the original negotiations. Only Reece’s presence at the table persuaded the union to return to the negotiating table.

Reece, though, wasn’t a man to back down easily. He hadn’t built his family’s company into an international conglomerate to bow easily to union demands. Now in his late thirties, he was worth billions, yet somehow still single.

He agreed to pay the unpaid wages immediately and improve health and safety. He refused to pay overdue overtime, insisting that the hours were contracted. Nor would he compensate injured workers.

In Lara Gordon, the union had sent their fiercest negotiator. She had a reputation in the industry for using strikes and the media strategically to force companies to give their construction workers what they deserved.

After high school, Lara won a scholarship to study law at university. Her parents pushed her to do it, wanting their daughter to have an easier life than they did. After she graduated, her father was injured in a construction accident after nearly twenty -five years working on construction sites as a contractor. He never worked again.

The company that employed him got away with paying no compensation or accepting fault because they had more money and better legal representation. The legal system failed him. What happened shaped Lara’s future. She attended Harvard Law School, then she started working for the union, determined to stop what happened to her father from happening to someone else.

Now, too, in her late thirties, she was feared by employers in the construction industry.

The negotiations had lasted all day. After a hopeful start, the negotiations descended into shouting and name-calling. Even lunch failed to cool tempers.

“Everybody out!” Reece called abruptly over the noise, never taking his eyes off Lara, who stared straight back.

Lara nodded her agreement to her team, and they left the room, followed by Reece’s lawyers.

Reece and Lara continued to stare at each other with hostility once they were alone in the room.

“If you have a proposal to make, Mr Chaney, you should make it,” Lara told him tersely. “You better have something worth my while, or we’re done.”

“Or you’re done?” Reece laughed dryly in response, unruffled by her threat. “We both know you’re not walking out.”

“And why is that?”

“Your strike has already lasted two weeks. Your members have mortgage repayments. They need to put food in their children’s mouths. They have electricity, gas and water bills to pay. They need to be paid, and they won’t be for the days they’re on strike.”

“Unless your investors pull out first, which they will do if I walk out of this room.”

“Perhaps, but my investors are richer than your members.”

“Your proposal?” she reminded him.

“Why do you think I’m going to make a proposal?”

A flicker of doubt crossed Lara’s face, just a flicker. “Then why did you ask everyone to leave if you didn’t want to make a proposal that you didn’t want your lawyers to talk you out of?”

“Because the negotiations weren’t working.”

Lara nodded as she reluctantly agreed. “It was getting heated, I admit. You want to continue, just me and you? No other reason?”

“That, and you intrigue me.”

“I intrigue you?”

“You’re an attractive woman doing a job that can be quite dirty.”

“I knew it!” Lara laughed with disgust. “You think you’re the only misogynist I’ve had to deal with in this industry. I’ve buried every single one. I was told I shouldn’t have returned to the negotiation table. I thought… I thought I knew better. I thought that with you leading your side, we would get this resolved.”

“We still can. Drop the demand for compensation and overtime, and we’ll have a deal, Miss Gordon.”

“It’s Ms Gordon, thank you. I would appreciate it if you could get that right, at least,” she told him irritably. “You know we can’t accept that. We have a member still in hospital and several others with medical bills from your inexcusable third-world site health and safety. You’ve had workers working outside contracted hours since the project started without overtime. Not to mention that the people managing the project for you are assholes. Give me something, Mr Chaney. Give me something I can work with, and I’ll call off the strike.”

“I can’t give you anything.”

Deep disappointment covered Lara’s face. Disappointment, not just in the failure of negotiations and in the failure to get what the union members needed, but also a personal failure. Lara Gordon never failed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she told him quietly, tidying the papers in front of her, readying herself to leave.

“Lara, wait!” Reece urged her, the steel in him disappearing. “I will make you one proposal.”

“What?”

“Dinner.”

“Dinner?” Lara laughed incredulously.

“I’ll pay.”

“Your company will pay for us to have dinner. Do you think my team and I are that easily bought?”

“So, you can be bought? Interesting.”

“Fuck off, Reece! You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Well, your team isn’t invited, and my company isn’t paying.”

“Then who is?”

“It’s just me buying you dinner.”

“No, Reece. There will be no dinner,” she told him firmly.

“Do they know about us?” Reece asked pointedly.

“Who?”

“Your negotiating team and your union.”

“That was a long time ago, Reece. What happened between us has nothing to do with what we’re negotiating.”

“Really? I know you volunteered to negotiate the moment I got involved.”

“Fuck you!” Lara knew what Reece was implying. She knew if the union found out about her past with Reece, they would fire her for not disclosing it.

“It’s just dinner, Lara.”

“But it’s never just dinner with you, Reece.”

“This time it will be.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Is that yes?”

“Fine!”

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A Single Dad Harem Romance

“Are you seeing anybody now that you’re divorced?” she asked, walking towards him with a seductive half-smile.

Angry with his ex-wife for turning up late for their appointment with Miss Taylor, their son’s teacher, David offers to help the young teacher tidy up after parents’ evening.

Whilst David struggles to deal with his son’s behavioural problems and his ex-wife’s relationship problems with the man she left him for, he finds himself in demand with the school’s staff: Ms Hargreaves, the headteacher, Miss Davidson, the school welfare officer, and Mrs Coldfield, the head of the PTA, who form a certain club and are eager to help David heal. This leads to a blind date with Ms Kilbride.

Teachers is a single-dad harem romance.

Teachers: A Single Dad Harem Romance

FREE EXTRACT

“Archie, darling, say goodbye to Daddy, we need to go,” Dawn gently told her 8-year-old son, who was playing by himself in the empty school hall with only his parents and teacher present. “Your stepfather’s here.”

Archie looked up to see the impatient man at the door, who was busying himself with his phone without a single interest in what was happening in the school hall. Archie stood and went to his mother with an unhappy sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

Archie shrugged dismissively at his mother without replying.

“Don’t you want to go home with your stepfather?”

Archie shrugged again as he collected his things and put on his coat. An expression of disappointment and hurt crossed Dawn’s face.

“What about me? Do you want to go home with me?”

Archie shrugged again. Dawn’s expression of disappointment and hurt turned into an expression of being crushed. Her eyes became moist at her son’s rejection.

Miss Taylor, Archie’s teacher, watched the exchange between mother and son, trying to hide her discomfort.

“Come here, buddy,” David, Archie’s father, called to his son with his arms open. Archie happily entered his father’s embrace. “I’ll see you next week, okay? Make sure you do your homework. We’ll do something fun when you come home.” David kissed the top of Archie’s head. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dad,” Archie said, smiling shyly.

Dawn fought to hide her tears at her son and ex-husband’s exchange of love. Her crushed feeling was joined by frustration and longing. Archie hadn’t been like that with her since she and David separated. He had always loved to sit on her lap and cuddle her; now he never did. He barely talked to her.

“I’m sorry,” David apologised profusely to Archie’s young, pretty teacher when Dawn and Archie had left. “I told Archie’s mum our appointment was at 6:30 pm. She’s been like this ever since we separated. It’s like she’s always trying to be late.”

“It must have been tough when she divorced you.”

“I divorced her, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I assumed because…”

“She cheated on me with Archie’s ‘stepfather’,” David explained disdainfully, making air quotes as he said stepfather with a grimace. “It’s funny, though. I didn’t divorce her for the cheating. I should have left the marriage a long time ago. Our marriage was never good. She wasn’t the easiest woman to be married to. Her cheating was what made me wake up and push for a divorce.”

“Seeing you and your ex-wife together makes sense of Archie’s behaviour,” Miss Taylor told David with an understanding smile. “It’s strange to see that Archie would be a kind and helpful boy one week, then challenging the next.”

“He doesn’t have much structure or attention when he’s with his mum. I know she loves him, but I also know she isn’t happy in her relationship with Archie’s ‘stepfather’. David made the air quotes again when he said, ‘stepfather’. “She only moved in with him because she had nowhere else to go. Archie doesn’t like him, and I know the asshole doesn’t want anything to do with Archie. I don’t think being a stepfather was what he signed up for when he began his affair with Dawn. I’m pretty sure he only wanted sex with a married woman.

“Unfortunately, Dawn spends more time now trying to fix her relationship with him than being a mother. She desperately wants the three of them to be a family, and the two guys don’t want that. Archie has been brought back to me early, more than once, because his ‘stepfather’ had had enough of him. I never complain, though. The more time Archie is with me, the better.” David stopped talking and grimaced, then looked apologetically at Miss Taylor. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t need to hear all this.”

“It’s okay. It helps me and the school understand Archie better. You’re a good dad to Archie; I can see that, and I know he adores you. I see that at the end of the day. I’d better tidy up; it’s getting late.”

“Thank you. Would you like some help? I feel bad that we were the ones holding you up while all the other teachers had gone home.”

“It’s not your fault, Mr Peters,” Miss Taylor assured him. “You were on time. But thank you; some help would be appreciated.”

David followed Miss Taylor’s instructions, putting any wastepaper into the recycling bins and returning the children’s books to the classroom.

“Where shall I put these books, Miss Taylor?” David asked as she lowered the classroom blinds.

“Call me Chloe. Just put them over there, Mr Peters.”

“Call me David,” he said, smiling back.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t feel right for what I have in mind,” Chloe replied strangely. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Mr Peters?” Miss Taylor’s tone sounded odd. To David, it sounded almost sultry.

“Sure,” he replied warily.

“Are you seeing anybody now that you’re divorced?” she asked, walking towards him with a seductive half-smile.

“In a relationship? Erm, no. Not right now. I only want to focus on Archie.”

Chloe’s smile became more seductive. “So, you haven’t had sex for a while, then?” She was now standing inappropriately close to David, her expression inquisitive, her breath heavy. Her eyes were almost undressing the older man alone with her in the classroom.

“It’s been a while,” he replied nervously, embarrassed that he couldn’t stop Chloe’s closeness from turning him on. His cock felt hard and restrained in his trousers. Archie’s pretty teacher had abruptly turned into a predatory succubus, and he couldn’t understand why.

He gasped and closed his eyes, feeling Chloe’s hand softly stroking the bulge in his trousers, hating himself for enjoying her touch.

“Does that feel good?” she asked slowly, smiling lustfully. “There is a rumour, Mr Peters, that you’re a DILF.”

“A DILF?”

“Yes, a DILF, Mr Peters. A Dad… I’d… Like…To… Fuck,” she said the words slowly with a sultry voice. “Some of us school staff would love to fuck you, Mr Peters, and I get to fuck you first, yay!” David’s hard, restrained cock twitched at the lustful and breathy way Miss Taylor said, ‘yay’. Her smile and the twinkle in her eye told David her hand, still on his cock, had noticed.

Chloe roughly pulled David down into a rough, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue entering Miss Taylor’s mouth almost against its will. His son’s teacher forced his hand to squeeze her firm, shapely ass.

Chloe’s expression when they broke off their kiss told David that sex was now an expectation. It didn’t matter whether he wanted to have sex or not. His cock had already made his decision for him, and he was now a slave to his unwanted yearnings.

The young teacher turned away from David and walked to her desk with a seductive look over her shoulder, unzipping her skirt as her hips hypnotically swayed and letting it fall to the floor to reveal her firm, thong-clad ass. David’s state of arousal stopped him from asking the question, ‘Why was a teacher wearing a thong to school?’

“Do you like what you see, Mr Peters?” She asked, sitting on her desk, unbuttoning her blouse to reveal her black lace bra. The breathy way Miss Taylor was saying, ‘Mr Peters’, was driving David insane.

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Erotic | Porn | Masturbation | Blow Job

Enjoying some alone time with a hot blonde

Brandon moaned as the young naked chick with the dirty blond hair kneeling submissively dribbled down on the huge cock. Drops of her saliva slid down the shaft. She opened her mouth wide and took it inside, her jaw stretching achingly.

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Her mane of hair flowed down one side of her head as her lips massaged the bulbous head, her eyes looking up into Brandon’s.

“Fuck, that’s hot!” he breathed, his cock straining to reach its full length, hardening to steel as it did so with each touch. “Oh, Yeah! That’s good,” he smiled as she sucked on the hairless, heavy balls behind the cock.

Her lips slid up and down sideways on the cock as she continued to make love to the cock. Her tongue ran up the underside until she took it back inside.

A hand grabbed the back of her head, forcing the full length of the shaft into her mouth. The shape of the cock could be seen in her throat, muffled gagging coming from her mouth.

The blonde’s eyes streamed with tears when she came back for air, her mascara leaving long, distressed smudges underneath.

With one hand wrapped around the cock and the other caressing the balls, she worked the cock harder with her lips, and Brandon felt himself build, then explode.

Cum filled the blonde’s mouth, overflowing back down the cock.

Brandon then heard the front door close, and his wife call, “I’m home, honey.”

“Shit! Shit!” he quietly exclaimed, seeing the mess over his hands and phone, muting the sound in panic while the blonde proudly showed off the cum in her mouth. “I’m in the bathroom. I’ll be down in a sec!” Brandon called back.

He grabbed the toilet paper and cleaned his hands, cock and phone before pulling up his underwear and trousers. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

Brandon’s eyes glanced at the video still running silently on his phone, having moved on to the actors’ post-scene Q & A. “Damn!” he thought. “That guy’s dick really isn’t that impressive.”

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Erotic Fiction | Older Woman Younger Man | Vacation

The first time I saw her was at the resort beach while I was on vacation in Spain. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit with an elegance that made her stand out from the younger women in their uniform string bikini slaving themselves to fashion.

Her hair was dark and messily tied back as if she was done trying to impress anyone.

My eyes were instinctively drawn to her. Her lack of desire to be seen amongst the pick-me girls gave her an intense attractiveness that I don’t think she realised.

The following day she was by the pool, lounging in a stylish bikini. Her damp body glistened in the hot sun. Her full breasts were barely held in her bikini top. Hips flared out from her briefs, showing off her curves.

Where on the beach she didn’t want to be noticed, in her bikini she wanted the world to know this was what a real woman looked like.

Our eyes met through our sunglasses. I looked away in shame. A small smile curled on her lips.

That night I bailed on my friends. They had pulled a pair of young girls, barely twenty, who were happy to spread their legs for men with cash to burn, nearly ten years older, in exchange for free sweet cocktails.

There were girls interested in me, but I wasn’t in them, so I returned to the hotel far too sober to end the night.

I arrived at the outdoor hotel bar. I saw her sitting cross-legged on a stool, only accompanied by a glass of white wine. Her long white dress showed off her tan and the elegance she exuded so easily. Her dark hair hung loosely down to her shoulders. A flat-heeled sandal hung from her toe.

“Hi,” I greeted her nervously, taking the only free stool at the bar next to her.

“Hello,” she replied curtly with disinterest, as she sipped from her wine glass.

“Una cerveza,” I said to the bartender. I took the cold bottle, the ice on the outside already melting into condensation running its length. “I’m sorry for staring at the pool,” I said to her, without expecting her to accept my apology.

“Just at the pool?” The way she asked sounded almost like a challenge.

Her question confused me until I realised what she was insinuating.

“And at the beach yesterday,” I added quietly.

She sipped her wine. The tip of her tongue ran across her moist, plum-coloured lips, savouring the taste of her wine.

I sighed. She was toying with me.

Another challenge.

She then smiled unapologetically, with amusement, not caring about the discomfort she was causing me and sensing that I knew what she was doing.

“I forgive you.”

“Thank you.”

“I should take it as a compliment that with all these young girls around, a younger man finds me attractive.”

“Are you here alone?” A flicker of disappointment crossed her face. I could tell she thought my question was crass. “No! I mean, I thought you would be here with your husband.”

She gave me a hard stare, then softened, hinting at the hurt she held beneath her skin.

“I’m not married, at least not anymore. As of two weeks ago, I’m a free woman. I divorced my cheating ex-husband.”

“For real?” I blurted out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, look at you? You’re beautiful! Why would anyone want to cheat on you?”

She laughed at my clumsy compliment, making me blush. She reached out and stroked my thigh, smiling with appreciation.

“Thank you. It’s nice of you to say that. I came here on a last-minute deal to recharge my batteries after my divorce. Have you ever been divorced? No, of course you haven’t. I hope you never do. My daughters are with my cheating ex, giving him hell I hope.” She paused and sighed. “You don’t want to hear my problems.”

“I don’t mind,” I told her.

She looked at me like she didn’t believe me.

“Can I buy you another drink?” I asked, indicating her empty wine glass.

“And what are you expecting if I say yes?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in a way that felt like flirting. “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Ryan, and I only want to keep our conversation going.”

“Well, Ryan, my name is Lauren, and I would love another white wine, but first tell me why you would want a conversation with a woman of my age.”

“Why not?” I replied innocently.

“Guess how old I am.”

“I refuse to answer that.”

“Why?”

“Because if I try to be clever and say you are, say in your twenties, it will sound disingenuous. If I guess right or older, I risk offending you. There is never a correct way to answer to that question.”

Lauren smiled, looking impressed at my answer, sipping the wine I bought her. “Good answer, and I apologise. You’re more intelligent than I gave you credit for.”

“Tell me more about your divorce.”

Lauren shrugged dismissively. “There isn’t much more to tell. He cheated on me with a woman a little younger than you are. Even though he agreed not to, I suspect he will use the opportunity of me being out of the country to introduce her to our daughters. I wish him luck with that!” she snorted. “Introducing your mistress to two teenage girls who already hate her.” Lauren then looked guilty. “That must make me sound terrible, that I’m weaponising my children against him.”

“No,” I objected. “You’re just hurting. We all say things we don’t really mean when we are hurting. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Lauren smiled at me again, placing her hand affectionately on my thigh again and this time letting it linger.

“Let’s talk about you,” Lauren said thoughtfully. “A young man like you should be chasing one of these pretty girls I see around the resort, not talking to an old lady like me.”

“You’re not old!” I then sighed sadly. “I’m just not in the mood. These kinds of holidays aren’t for me anymore. My friends insisted I come with them after I broke up with my girlfriend.”

“I hope she didn’t cheat on you,” Lauren said with concern, uncrossing her legs, taking my hand to her lap and placing it on her thigh. Her hands lay on mine, keeping my hand in place. Her thigh felt warm to my touch. My fingers draped down inside her thigh, caught in the folds of her dress, close to her pussy. Her thighs pressed together, making sure my fingers stayed where she wanted them.

“No, she didn’t cheat. At least I’m sure she didn’t. She was toxic though.”

“Toxic?”

“With every argument we had, she broke up with me, I would apologise, and we got back together again until I had enough and agreed to break up. When I agreed, she begged me not to. The more she begged, the more I realised that I didn’t need her drama. I don’t miss her, but I miss being in a relationship.”

“That’s how I feel about my ex-husband,” Lauren replied sympathetically, squeezing my hand. The shape of her thigh was leaving me slightly breathless and trying to control my arousal.

Lauren stared intently at me, deciding.

She stood abruptly, keeping possession of my hand.

“We should take this conversation to my room,” she told me firmly. She smiled slyly. “If my ex can sleep with a younger woman, then I can sleep with a younger man.”

The moment we entered Lauren’s room, our lips clashed together. Her hands began tugging at my shirt, pushing it upward. Our lips only parted to lift the shirt over my head.

Our mouths locked together, tongues embracing matching the heat of the night. Her hands roamed my body. Mine took hold of her ass, pulling into me. Her hips pushed into mine to feel my cock straining in my trousers.

Lauren broke off our kiss, eyes sparkling in the darkness. Only the moonlight streaming through the window gave a semblance of light in the room.

Taking a step back, Lauren turned. With a sultry look over her shoulder, she slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders and pushed her dress down with a sexy wriggle of her hips to leave it in a pool at her feet.

Stepped out of the dress, leaving her sandals behind, while with simultaneous ease, she unfastened her strapless bra.

“If you want to see the rest of me, you need to take off those jeans and stop teasing me,” she told me over her shoulder with an arm possessively covering her breasts.

In my haste, my hands fumbled at my belt. I nearly tripped over my trousers as I took them off, my eyes never leaving Lauren.

Wrapping my arms around Lauren from behind with my trousers discarded, my lips softly kissed her shoulder while her free hand reached behind her to feel my cock.

“That feels nice,” she sighed contentedly, vague about whether it was my kiss or my cock that felt nice.

Lauren turned so our lips and tongues could resume what they were doing earlier.

She stepped back, pulling me with her. With each step towards her bed came expectations. Her expectations. This was a woman done with playing games, a woman who knew what she wanted.

Her last step was onto the bed. She hooked a hand around my neck, pulling me into a kiss. Her other hand took my hand and placed it on her breast. Her nipple hardening between my fingers.

My other hand touched her between her legs, lingering on the small damp patch on her panties.

It was enough for her to break off her kiss.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “I’m not ready.” Her dampness and breathlessness told me differently.

She tugged on my boxers and freed my cock. This was what she meant by not ready.

Her lips circling my cock gave me understanding.

This was a woman whose desires had been neglected for too long. She needed to feel. She needed to remind herself what it was like to touch and taste a man.

“Christ!” I moaned.

The vibration on my cock from her giggle made what she was doing more intense. My moan was her validation. She needed to know that she still had it in her to make a man moan.

Smiling with pride, she released my cock and moved up the bed, taking off her panties.

She looked at me inquisitively, waiting, wanting to know what I could do. She now needed to be reminded what it was like for a man to touch and taste her.

Ignoring my disappointed cock, I joined Lauren on the bed.

She gasped in surprise when, instead of lying next to her, I began to lay soft kisses on her feet.

Lauren threw her hands above her head. Her contented sighs became louder the higher I kissed each parted leg. My lips were sinking into the softness of her thighs, closer to the thick, trimmed patch of dark hair between her legs.

A soft giggle left Lauren’s lips as she felt my hot breath on her pussy. Her giggle turned into needy sighs as my finger traced her moist labia.

A loud moan greeted my tongue, which made long strokes upwards. My nose nuzzled in her hair. Her intoxicating scent filled my nostrils.

Her hips rose, and her back arched as my fingers found their way inside her, with a gasp of ecstasy coming from above.

Unseen hands roughly stroked my hair, encouraging me to keep doing what I was doing. I could feel that Lauren was close to what had been given to someone else for too long.

My tongue circled her clitoris, giving her what had been denied her. Her fingers gripped my hair tightly.

Then she came.

Lauren came hard. Joy and relief flowed over my chin as her nectar poured out of her. Her taste coating my tongue. Her body shook.

A shadow then covered me. I looked up to see Lauren smiling, flushed with contentment. Grateful to be reminded of what an orgasm felt like.

But she hadn’t taken everything she wanted from me.

Lauren gently wiped her cum from my face and lifted my face to hers. Her lips pressed themselves onto mine.

“Condom,” she said. It was a simple command, uncomplicated and sincere.

I found my trousers where I had discarded them and took out my wallet. My hand fumbled the condom as I hurriedly tore open the wrapper and rolled it on.

Lauren’s eyes sparkled with desire and anticipation as I knelt above her. Her hand reached between her legs, searching for my covered cock to guide it inside her. With her mouth open in ecstasy, her eyes closed with happiness, my cock slid into the wet, warm embrace of her pussy.

I paused and held my breath, searching for self-control, not wanting to pound this beautiful creature too quickly and ruin the night.

Slowly, I withdrew. Slowly, I pushed myself back into her. Our eyes met as our hips met before parting again.

Lauren thrust her hips up, urging, demanding I go faster.

Shifting my weight, I pushed her legs back. Her eyes widened at my unexpected dominance. My cock slid deeper into her. I rose, then thrust hard back down with an erotic slap.

Faster.

Harder.

Our sighs became moans, only silenced by our kiss.

I feel her legs wrap themselves around me. Our motions fevered.

A hard kiss to silence an orgasm. Her body rigid before relaxing. Another kiss. Another orgasm. Sweat attempting to cool our bodies in the night’s summer heat.

Orgasm followed orgasm.

I felt my cock swell.

So did Lauren. She encouraged me, moving her hips harder until I filled the condom, burying my face in the pillow to stop myself from announcing to the world that I had just fucked a beautiful older woman.

“Just a little bit longer,” she whispered, her thighs gripping me until she feels me beginning to soften. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” she laughs happily as we lay side by side contemplating what we had done, turning my face towards her to give me a deep, grateful kiss.

“This wasn’t how I expected my night to go,” I confess.

“You didn’t enjoy it.” There was a fear of disappointment in her voice.

“I loved it! I never thought I would sleep with an older woman. It was easily the best sex I’ve had since…. it was the best sex I ever had.”

She kissed me softly in appreciation.

“Well, you were certainly better than my ex, but that bar is so low that it’s insulting to you. I should say, instead, you’re a wonderful lover. Thank you.”

“I should go,” I said reluctantly before an arm and a leg kept me on the bed.

“Not so fast,” Lauren told me firmly. “When you bought me that drink tonight, I was sure I saw two condoms in your wallet.”

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Erotic Fiction | Rough Sex | Anger | Bar Bitch

Ethan saw her the moment he entered. Her hair was short and dark, a leather jacket, a short denim skirt and cowgirl boots. Her lips and nails were painted black. Her legs were crossed on the barstool. She was younger than Ethan, but looking in her late twenties, she was past being called young.

List: Short Stories | Curated by Sean Dalton | Medium

“…. and tell your little friends I’m way out of their league too!” she told the humiliated young man on the barstool next to her, her accent suggesting she was more well-off than she appeared, who had suffered her brutal rejection, and he slipped away back to his stunned friends.

Ethan’s eyes closed, and his stomach sank when he saw that the only space left at the bar was now next to her after the young man walked off in shame. He didn’t need this, not tonight of all nights. He could do without the games.

His ex had given him a hard time again, demanding that he fix the relationship between their children and her latest boyfriend, whom she had again introduced to them far too soon. Not that there was ever a relationship. Their children had long stopped bothering to get to know their mother’s boyfriends. They would be introduced to him, then he would be gone, and another would take his place. Somehow, though, it was all Ethan’s fault and his problem to fix. He had thought that after their divorce, he didn’t have to fix that bitch’s dramas anymore. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

As he sat down, the bar owner, with a knowing look, poured him a large bourbon. She had long stopped asking Ethan what was wrong. She was attracted to Ethan and would have happily offered to sleep with him, but he was always far too angry. It was a shame. Ethan didn’t realise how attractive he was. For some reason, that made him more attractive. He never caused problems in the bar, though. He just needed a drink to relax and a place to stew on life.

Ethan noticed the smirk on the face of the woman next to him. She didn’t just enjoy putting that young man down; she had got off on it. He was younger than her. She was out of his league. But what she gave him, he didn’t deserve.

Underneath her jacket, she wore a low-cut tank top. The bra she wore pushed her breasts up and in, giving her a cleavage that was attractive in that it wasn’t overly large.

Ethan had been around long enough to know that she had come to the bar to tease. She wanted men to approach her so she could turn them down as cruelly as possible. He had seen her do it so many times. It was why he had always kept his distance from her.

“Did you really think I would be interested in someone like you?” she demanded disdainfully of Ethan as he felt a challenging stare on him.

He gave her a sideways glance before answering dismissively, “Not tonight,” as he sipped on his bourbon.

There was a long pause. The bar owner stifled a laugh at Ethan’s reply.

“Not tonight?” was the incredulous response.

“I’m not interested.”

There was another long pause. From the change in her demeanour, it was obvious to Ethan that the conversation wasn’t going how she wanted, not that he cared. Ethan had no intention of being another of her victims.

“Just as well, you’re too old to handle someone like me.”

“I’m too old to want to. And too smart.”

“Fuck you, asshole! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Fuck you! Are you calling me stupid? I’m not stupid.”

Ethan finally looked at her. She was pissed that he wasn’t showing that he found her attractive and was refusing to play her games.

“No, I’m saying I want to drink in peace, and I don’t want to play your games.”

“So, you’re saying your wife divorced you because you’re an asshole,” she sneered, twisting his words. “It’s obvious you’re a divorced loser.”

The bar owner gasped worriedly when she heard her say that.

Instead of becoming angry, Ethan shook his head at his bourbon in disbelief. “I should introduce you to my ex-wife, then you’ll be able to see what you’ll look like in fifteen to twenty years.”

The woman was stunned into silence. She didn’t know how to reply. She knew it was an insult, but she didn’t know why.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what you’ll do to me to rock my world?” Ethan could see she was about to lose it because, for once, she wasn’t getting her own way.

At this point, Ethan had had enough. He only wanted to drink too much bourbon and wash away his ex-wife, but this woman wasn’t going to let him.

“No, but what I will do, if you keep talking,” he told her in a menacing voice, “is drag you out the back, pin you against the wall and put my hand up your skirt to circle your pussy over your panties with my finger with my hot breath on your neck. And just when you’re about to cum, I’ll stop and get in my Uber and leave. Do you know what you’ll do?”

“No,” she replied a little timidly.

“You’ll chase after me and beg me to finish you off, but I’ll just drive away without looking back.”

“You’re an asshole!” she screamed. “Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t give a shit,” Ethan told her wearily, returning to his bourbon.

“Fuck you!” Realising she had lost, she stormed off.

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, peace at last.

He drank the last of his bourbon, paid his tab and booked his Uber ride. He smiled his gratitude at the bar owner as always, then went to the bathroom.

“You know no one talks to me like that,” a petulant voice said as he left the bathroom.

“Perhaps people should,” he told the woman waiting for him outside.

“I’m Sophie.”

“I don’t care.”

“You think you can do it?” she asked, disappointed at his lack of interest.

“Do what?”

“Make me cum like that.”

“I told you I wouldn’t make you cum.”

“Yeah, but you said you would almost make me cum, which means you could if you wanted to.” There was an almost coyness in the way she spoke.

Ethan’s problem was that he had drunk enough bourbon to tip him over the edge to make the wrong decision. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the back door.

Sophie gasped as her back hit the wall, and Ethan roughly pulled her jacket down, pinning her arms at her side as he pressed himself against her.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in a gravelly voice, his warm breath breathing into her neck. His hand was up her skirt, with his finger circling her pussy over her panties as promised.

“Yes,” Sophie breathed, unable to move, her crotch moist at Ethan’s touch. She could feel herself building. Her breathing became heavier. Her eyes closed. She was going to cum. Then a phone pinged.

“That’s my Uber,” Ethan told her, removing his hand from her skirt.

“What!” Sophie cried as his hand reappeared. “No.”

“I’ve got to go, Sophie. It was fun.”

“But I was close.”

“Yeah, but I said I would stop before you did,” he told her with a shrug before he turned his back on her and walked down the alley to the front of the bar, leaving Sophie feeling frustrated and used.

Ethan found his Uber ride, and when he got in, the other passenger door opened, and Sophie jumped in too.

“I’m coming with you,” she said with a petulant expression, as Ethan looked at her quizzically.

Ethan didn’t bother asking why.

“What’s your name?” Sophie asked as they pulled away.

“Ethan,” he replied, with a lack of interest.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived outside his apartment, and five more minutes later, Ethan had Sophie pressed up against the wall inside his apartment. His hand up her skirt and his finger circling her pussy over her panties, his hot breath on her neck again driving her wild.

“You want me to make you cum this time?” he growled.

“Please!” she whimpered, feeling her panties dampen and her orgasm build. “No!” she cried when Ethan stopped again.

“I’m not convinced.” To reinforce his control over her, he tapped her clitoris.

“I need it!”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Kiss me.”

Sophie’s black lips obediently pressed against Ethan’s. Her mouth opened to allow his tongue inside.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?”

“No,” she denied.

“Liar. I won’t make you cum unless you’re honest. Tell me the truth.”

“Yes!” Her rose as she felt Ethan pull the crotch of her panties to the side and his middle finger entered her.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes!” she cried, feeling his finger curl inside her and rub her pussy wall. Her legs felt weak. If Ethan weren’t pressed against her, she would have slid down the wall to the floor.

“I know who you are,” he growled with menace, his lips agonising close to hers.

“What?”

“I know who you are. A bored little rich girl who loves leading men on. You love going to the bar and being a bitch because you know daddy wouldn’t approve. You get off on it. But what you don’t tell anyone is that you are a submissive little slut, isn’t that right?” he said with a malicious smile, knowing she was about to cum.

Ethan’s finger and words made Sophie’s body shake, her vision go black, and her thighs squeeze together.

When she could see again, she barely whispered, “Yes.”

“You came a lot,” Ethan told her. “I want to fuck you hard. I want to punish you for being the bitch you are. A bitch like my ex-wife.”

Sophie was still too dazed from her intense orgasm to resist. Ethan dragged her to his bedroom and threw her onto his bed.

“Naked, now!” he told her.

Sophie kicked off her boots and quickly took off her clothes. She lay on the bed watching Ethan slowly undress.

“Sit up!”

Sophie obeyed, eyeing Ethan’s hard cock.

“Putting it in your mouth.”

Sophie obeyed again, regaining a semblance of control as she listened to Ethan’s moans.

But not for long.

He grabbed her hair and began pumping his cock in her mouth. Her eyes watered as she allowed herself to be dominated and used as Ethan’s fuck toy.

“Shit! Your mouth feels good,” he told her as he removed himself with a self-control that needed every part of him. “Lie back. It’s time for your punishment”

Sensing what Ethan wanted, Sophie lay back with her legs open.

“Not like this.” Effortlessly, he flipped her onto her front and drove his cock hard inside her pussy, making her let out a small scream. “God! You’re soaking. You love being treated this way, don’t you?”

All he got was a moan in reply.

“Answer me!” and her drove hard inside her again.

“Yes!”

“You love it.”

“Yes!”

“Let’s see if you do when I finish. I’m going to take out everything my bitch of an ex-wife did to me on you. I’m going to make you hate her as much as I do.”

Ethan began roughly pounding Sophie’s pussy, who collapsed on the bed with her ass in the air and her face buried in the mattress.

A stinging smack on her ass made her lift her head to release a scream as she orgasmed, her pussy clenching hard on Ethan’s cock.

“I want to hear you scream,” he told her.

He smacked her again.

“Tell me you hate my ex-wife for making me do this to you.”

“I hate her!” Sophie screamed again. The situation and especially being spanked while being fucked was giving her intense orgasms that came too easily. She was barely able to breathe before another arrived. Her pussy was starting to feel sore from Ethan’s pounding, but the orgasms he gave her meant she could tell him to stop.

“Tell me my ex-wife is a bitch.”

“She’s a bitch!”

“Tell me I’m better off without her.”

“You’re better off without her!”

“She called me worthless. She said I wasn’t a real man. Am I a real man, Sophie? Does fucking you like this make me a real man?”

“Yes!” she screamed as another intense orgasm shook her.

“Oh, fuck!” Ethan cried as he came heavily with more cum than he ever thought he had.

“You’re a real man,” Sophie wept into the mattress, as she felt him soften inside her.

“What have I done?” he sighed remorsefully, seeing Sophie crying on his bed, his cum seeping out of her pussy, the anger he had inside him for his ex-wife gone.

He climbed onto the bed with Sophie and turned her towards him. Her damp, sweaty body flinched before allowing him to hold her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he told her, hating himself. “I went too far. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered into his chest.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“I’m fine,” she said again. “I’m sore, but I needed that. Being taken control of like that turned me on. People always give me whatever I want no matter how I behave. It’s why I go to the bar. I’ve been looking for someone to treat me how I deserve.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I should thank you; I released a lot of anger tonight.”

“I’m happy you’re feeling better; you’ve always looked so unhappy whenever I see you at the bar, but I don’t want to do that again. It was too intense. I don’t want to go to the bar again either. You gave me what I needed. I need to look at my life and grow up instead. I need to stop trying to make my parents angry.”

“You should get some help.”

“I think I will. You should ask the bar owner out.”

“Why?”

“Because she likes you. It’s obvious. I’m sorry about what your ex-wife did to you; moving on might help you stop getting so angry. You’re good-looking; you could do worse than the bar owner; she’s kind and pretty.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m still letting my ex control my life. Let me know when you’re ready, and you can shower. I’ll cook you a meal; it’s the least I can do.”

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