Ash - the Sandstone Affair Part 1 (3 page)

The silence stretches. The door handle is slippery and cool from my sweat, but I can’t let go. It’s my only root in reality right now.
“Can you really do it? Can you get Lynx back?” I ask quietly.
“I think that I can. But I need your help. I won’t be able to tell you everything, and you must accept that. I will ask and teach you to do things you never imagined doing, and you must accept that too.”
Mark opens his door and puts a long leg out onto the pavement, “I will give you some time to think about it. But I need your answer tonight.”
He walks around the perimeter of the parking garage with his hands in his pockets staring out at the starry sky.
I could keep pressuring my lawyer. I could try to get this ‘evidence’ on my own. I could sell the Wall Street story to another magazine to scoop Ladies World. That would surely bring me a lawsuit, but at least I’d get the last laugh. Or, as my slit begins to moisten, I can take Mark’s offer.
Sexual submission? Total trust? Even if I could get my body to cooperate, how would my mind ever fall into line? And what did he mean by teaching me another way to be strong? Yet, everything he has told me has been true. Every place he touches on me catches afire and ignites a craving within me that only he can satisfy. He was right about Lynx. He was right about me. If I had just listened to him and not gotten involved in a street fight with Ladies World, things might be different now. What more do I have to lose at this point? I have the power to stop it. He has the power to make it work.
I unlock the door and push it open, finally loosening my grip and wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt before walking over to him.
“Well?” He asks with a slight smile.
I swallow hard and speak as if I’m before a board of directors.
“I accept your proposal.”
 

In elementary school, I had a ponytail that reached halfway down my back. My mother would comb my hair every morning and braid it carefully, fixing it with a purple elastic band. It had to be purple because it was my favorite color, and the only color I was willing to have in my hair. I don’t know who started it, but there was one year when all the boys thought it would be funny to yank on the girls’ hair during class. First it was Maria. She went home crying. The teacher gave all the boys in the class a stern talking to, but that didn’t stop them. Next was Carolyn. Her mother had to come pick her up. When Brian Carter yanked on my ponytail, he ended up bawling on the floor with a bloody nose. We both went home that day, but none of the girls in the class ever had their hair pulled again.
I don’t have a ponytail anymore, but sometimes I still check behind me, to catch the boy who thinks that I’m an easy target.
The empty parking lot seems larger, though nothing has changed. Mark and I walk back towards his Escalade.
“So, um, when do we start?” I ask as we reach his car.
“Now,” there is something hard in his gaze that sends a twinge of pleasure between my thighs. “Kneel.”
Why did I even ask? I take a deep breath. I had agreed to his proposal just moments ago, but I’m not sure that I’m ready. I look around the empty parking lot, the fluorescent lights creating shadows of the thick concrete support columns. What if someone sees us here? What will Mark think of me if I submit to his will so easily? Maybe I should have put up more of a fight. Maybe I should have run away. But where would that leave me?
Mark watches me, his bright eyes piercing into me as if he can see my doubt. One look at his face and I know that it had not been a request. Bending down in my heels, I awkwardly lower myself to the dirty concrete. There is something comforting about it. Just giving in to his demands and letting him lead for the moment. My heartbeat pounds in my ears and my thighs feel slippery.
“Beautiful,” he says and reaches out to brush my cheek with his hand. His other hand slowly unzips his pants and brings out his erect cock for me to see clearly for the first time. His hand leaves my cheek and grips the back of my neck pulling my face toward his member.
I stall as he brings me forward. Is this what I just agreed to? I’ve got my job to recover, my dad’s hospital bills, my sense of dignity and pride to think about and I’m going to achieve these things by sucking Mark’s beautiful, rigid, cock?
 
My mouth waters in anticipation, the tingling of my clit undeniable and yet it is so hard to bend to his will.
“One minute in and you’re already resisting,” Mark says solemnly. “I see we have a lot of work to do. And, we only have thirty days to do it. So let’s get started.”
“Mark, I want to…it’s just…”
“Open your mouth,” He says firmly his hand once again guiding my face forward. I open my mouth and take his cock into it; first kissing the top then moving my head so my tongue can run along the bottom of his shaft.
 
I open wider to take more of his cock in me, shielding my teeth with my lips and bobbing my head up and back as the ridges and bumps of his cock glide over my tongue. My tongue flicks at the base of his shaft as I reach farther. His hips begin a slight movement and he leans his head back clearly enjoying the sensation.
I try to move my head to guide his cock to my cheek and not down my throat but he will have none of that, instead guiding my head with his hands. He starts to push farther and I gag on his cock. He withdraws it just enough to let me breathe then gags me with it again. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. I desperately try to move my head to keep up with him, but the gagging and retching continues until he withdraws. His wet, red cock
 
is now swollen and pulsing.
He pulls on my arm and guides me out of the car, leaving the passenger door open. I stand before him and he kisses me deeply.
“You have a beautiful mouth,” he coos. “Mine.”
Before I can respond he turns me around facing the seat and pushes my back down with his hand. Instinctively, I realize he wants to bend me over the car seat the way I did on his desk that very first night. My brain buzzes with excitement when I feel him lifting my skirt and lowering my underpants. How I long for him to fill me again.
Smack! He slaps my naked cheek cause a sharp warm pain then he slaps the other, my bottom tensing under this onslaught. Over and over he smacks my quivering globes as the heat builds between them.
“Mine,” he murmurs. I feel his fingers insert themselves into my pussy, moving back and forth. “And this is mine.”
He lines himself up and with a solid full thrust impales me on his cock. I cry out at the sudden stretching of my channel and my voice echoes all around the garage. Between the stinging of my ass cheeks and the rough pounding in my insides I am lost in a flurry of pleasure and pain. He grabs my hips and pumps his cock into me, his balls making slapping noises against my backside as I lay bent over the seat.
I still taste his precum in my mouth and my breasts are rubbing against the harsh fabric of the vehicle sending my entire body into the chasm.
 
Occasionally he withdraws almost all the way out, then slaps my cheek again before pushing himself entirely back in. My body is now raw from his hard cock delving into me over and over. I feel his stretching and pulsing inside of me and I start squeezing him, encouraging his lust. He grabs me harder, pulling my hips and pushing them to force himself even deeper inside me. Short stabs punctuated by long, slow withdrawals take me off balance.
“Please,” I whisper, unable to take much more of the rough pounding. I hear him growl in a guttural moan as I feel his seed squirt deep inside me. My bottom is still stinging from his slaps as he removes his cock, then rubs the head over my slit.
“Mine.” He says in a breathless whisper and somewhere I feel that word lock around my brain too. Holding me down by the back still, I feel the head of his cock go up and down my crack then stop right on top of my anus. The small puckered opening quivers at the stimulus.
“Also mine,” he chuckles as I lurch forward, stung by the implication. He pats me gently on the backside. “But not tonight.”
Allowing me to stand for a moment he turns me to face him and kisses me deeply. I long to embrace him, but as my arms reach out, he is pushing my shoulders down directing me to my knees, my head once more in front of his now dripping, spent cock.
“Clean me,” his says softly and I open my mouth to obey, using my pursed lips to wipe and dry his cock, as the taste of both of us mingles on my tongue. “Good, good.”
He reaches down and picks me up, his arm muscles showing their strength. Placing me back in the SUV, he closes the door. I’m too shell shocked to do much of anything. He lowers the tailgate just long enough to get a blanket from the back, and then climbs inside. I notice his pants have been re-zipped and his smile is broad and peaceful.
Mark places the blanket over my shoulders while kissing my cheek and nuzzling my ears, he gently brushes his fingers through my hair.
“You’re so beautiful, Julia. I’ve wanted you for so long, you beautiful brilliant star.” He kisses me gently on the forehead then wraps his arms around me holding my body as I cry releasing all my confusion and tension.
 
We rest nestled like tender lovers for a time. Eventually he taps me on the shoulder and tells me it is time for us to go.
“I don’t understand something, Mark,” I say when I have energy enough to talk. The truth is at this moment I really don’t understand anything. “I know by taking this risk and trusting you I will get my job back, but what are you getting from all this? It surely isn’t about the sex.”
“I am getting a chance to shine light in the darkness and recover the Holy Grail from its ancestral hiding place so it belongs to me alone,” he replies with a wry smile.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about what I’m getting, Julia. I promise that it’s worth it.”
 
Mark opens the car door and helps me to my own car.
 
Guiding me gently by the arm, he places me in the front seat of my vehicle. A little smile escapes his lips as I yelp when the seat hits my sore bottom.
 
He promises to call me and steals away as quickly as he appeared.
I drive home in a haze, lucky the hour is late and the traffic is low. The stretch of lifting myself out of the car and walking into my apartment is almost more than I can bear. My body is empty of all its strength, and my mind is full of questions.
What did he mean “Holy Grail”? How can someone fuck me so hard then kiss me so gently? Am I a toy or am I his lover? Is he my savior or is he my friend with benefits? Where do we go from here?

~~~

I drop into bed after a shower and although I’m sore and swollen I feel so full and wonderful inside. Never in my life could I imagine myself allowing a man to speak to me as Mark did, and I certainly have never offered anyone the kind of service I willingly gave him. It’s all a puzzle to me.
Right as I’m drifting to sleep I hear the annoying undeniable ringtone of my cell phone telling me there’s a text message.
 
That doesn’t make any sense. It’s nearly midnight and since I’ve lost my job my texts have gone from forty a day to zero. I get up and cross the room, every step reminding me of the rough rear-entry pounding my pussy just endured. When I look at the phone the top is supposed to show me the number it came from.
The number is 555-555-5555.
It’s an old reporter trick, of course. Pretty much anyone in publishing, news or secret keeping knows how to set their phone up to register the 555 number as a way of masking their identity. I was taught the trick in college as were most of my staff and friends.
 
So, whoever sent me this message wants to be anonymous. Let’s see what they have to say.
Flicking the screen with my thumb I chose the little text icon and the spinning circle appears for just a second before the message shows up on my phone. A chill goes down my spine and I am suddenly wide awake. There are four words on my screen.
“Do Not Trust Him.”

Ember: The Sandstone Affair Part 2

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