Cherry Bomb (2 page)

“
Then suck my cock right,
bitch,” I said with a cold indifference that contrary to my earlier
gentleness. I rammed my cock into her opened mouth. “Suck, slut. I
will tell you when you need to breathe, to think, to beg, and when
I am ready to throw your sorry ass away, then you will thank me for
even allowing you the pleasure of having me.”

She struggled to take me
deeper into her mouth. Fuck that shit. I saved her the trouble:
released her breast and fisted my hands into her hair, yanking her
closer, and fucked that mouth, deep and hard until I hit the back
of her throat. She gagged like crazy but never fought my
assault.

“
I should take a picture.”
I smiled, knowing cameras were everywhere and already snapping
them.

Finally, I was feeling it.
The tightness in my balls sent a shiver down the base of my cock.
“Fuck yeah, babe.”

I was close but this
wasn’t for enjoyment. She was nothing more to me than a damn job. A
job I could at least try to enjoy. With a moan, I shoved her back
and jerked her to her feet with a tug of her hair. Pulling her
across the room, I pushed her face down onto a rough, withered
table. She winced, but I didn’t give her time to adjust before
sliding on a condom and slamming my cock into her from
behind.

She screamed and started grinding desperately
onto my cock. I couldn’t take another second of her dreadful
movement. No wonder someone wanted to rid themselves of her ass. If
I had to stomach fucking her for the rest of my life I would want
to blow someone’s brains out.

I shoved her off of me, pushing the table and
her a good ten feet, and glanced off at a wall full of assortment
of paddles, whips, riding crops, and chains. Seeing what I needed,
I snatched four leather cuffs off the wall and took my time walking
back to where she was face down on the table, a tear sliding down
her left cheek.

“You want me to make you forget all your
problems? Touch your skin, kiss your lips, my pet.”

She wailed out a moan.

"Then stick your ass up in the air, bitch," I
ordered as I yanked her arm against the table leg. She obeyed
instantly as I made fast work of securing all four of her
extremities to the table legs. She was unable to move so I resumed
the pistoning of my engorged dick in and out of her wet pussy. It
was almost gratifying. Her cunt started pulsing around me,
signaling her impending release.

“
You’re close. How does it
feel to finally desire a man like this?” I stopped and pulled out
of her. She moaned almost painfully.

After pulling up my jeans,
I walked over to the wet bar in the corner and poured myself a
drink of Jack and Coke. She wiggled her ass. “Do you want me, sweet
girl? Do you miss the feel of me sliding in and out of your sweet
cunt?”

I took my precious time,
watching her helplessly strain against the ropes.

When I walk back up behind
her, she yanked against the bindings around her wrist and reached
for my pants leg.

“
Did I give you permission
to touch me?”

“
No, I’m . . .”

“
Shut the fuck up,” I said
cutting off her weak, pitiful voice. “If only,” I started to say
and lightly rubbed a finger over her folds. “If only you would have
obeyed, I would be stroking this sweet, wet pussy with my cock
right now.”

Suddenly, I placed a
stinging slap across her left ass cheek then stroked over the hot,
red hand print. Feeling her relax under my touch, I slapped her
harder causing her to scream out in pain.

“
I don’t care what you
want. The only thing that matters tonight is what I want,” I
whispered before rubbing my hand between her legs. I pop her
clitoris with the palm of my hand then resumed the soft stroking of
it. Pain mixing with pleasure was capable of bringing on the
strongest orgasm. I slapped her clitoris once more. “The rules are
simple make me happy and I will reward you. Disobey me and you will
be punished. Do you want me to reward you, babe?”

“
I only want you to be
pleased, Sir,” she said with a whimper.

“
Good girl, my sweet pet.
Beg.”

“
Please, use my holes,
Sir,” she said between moans.

I eased her ass cheeks
apart, bracing her to take me deep between her thighs. But instead
another sight caught my eye. I traced my finger over the puckering
of her anus. It flinched under my touch.

“
Have you ever let your
husband stick his small dick in here?” I asked, sinking the tip of
my finger into the opening.

“
No,” she
answered.

The slight moans escaping
her lips let me know she wanted this.

“
Do you want me to? Do you
want to know what it feels like to have my dick slide deep into
that tight, little asshole?”

Before I could even wiggle
my finger out, she was screaming, “Please, please fuck my asshole,
Sir.”

“
You’re not ready for that
yet. But you will be.”

I kneeled behind her,
flicked my tongue over the wetness of her nasty cunt, and swirled
my tongue around, probing the tip inside of her. She tasted okay.
I’ve had worse, and I’ve had a hell of a lot better too. I slipped
my hand up between her thighs and stroked over her clit.

She screamed out at the
sensation of me working my thumb and tongue over her engorged
clitoris. I stopped, stood up, and smacked her ass before thrusting
back into her.

“
Thank you, Sir,” she
screamed out. “I’ll never forget tonight.”

I will, so shut the fuck
up and let me finish. The sound of her voice irritated the hell out
of me and distracted me from the warm, wet vice-grip of her pussy.
I slid off the tie from around my shirt collar, gagged her mouth
with it, and continued to impale her with my dick, so damn deep I
could feel her cervix with every thrust.

I felt the familiar clench
of her trembling sex. She was close. I slapped her ass and pounded
harder, again and again. She came with a muffled scream, and
squeezed my dick with that scorching pussy. I let out a grunt
before one final thrust then pulled out, coming all over her firm,
round ass.

I yanked my tie from her
lips and walked away, leaving her tied to the table for my
assistant to handle. They know before agreeing to come with me that
they are no more than a random fuck. The biggest lie anyone ever
believed was that emotions and sex were combined. I could fuck all
day, but I’d be dammed if I ever felt again. Feeling was not worth
the pain. So I hardened my heart, and became the man I was; a
fucking machine who didn’t give a shit.

“
Sir, Master,” her voice
trailed after me.

I rolled my eyes; sure I
wouldn’t even remember her face in the morning. I didn’t kiss or
hold them. I sure as hell didn’t stay around to see if they were
okay. That might have been a night she would dream about for years,
but it was just another scene for me. She was no more than another
fuck: a warm hole to get my dick wet, a pay check
.

“Good morning, Drake.”

“Hi, Margaret, I have an appointment with
Billy. Is the ass around?” I asked with a smirk and put out my
cigarette in a nearby crystal bowl.

“No smoking in here,” Margaret said
condescending, with an obviously fake smile and a stare that could
only be described as a mother who caught her kids stealing a cookie
from the cookie jar, all the while emptying out the bowl in a
nearby trash can. “You know better.”

Margaret had been my dad’s assistant and now
my brother’s since before I was even born. I was sure she knew more
about our business than we even did. She also had our backs. She
would take a fall for any of us any day. So she was one of the few
I would take lip service from.

She motioned with her hand for me to have a
seat. I pushed off her desk and picked up a magazine lying on the
entry table. It had been ages since I had been to my brother’s
office. The reception area was post-modern with a touch of
old-world class. I guess Billy let his wife have her way with the
designing. His taste sucked. But I had to admit the room suited
him.

So I guess by now you were wondering who in
the hell I was? I was known by most as Sir, and to a few very lucky
girls as Master. See it is not my style to give my name out to
strangers but what the fuck, Drake Andrew Hart at your service; a
twenty-six-year-old sex god, the best damn private investigator
around, and if you crossed the wrong person, I’ll become your worst
nightmare.

“Drake.”

I heard come from behind my shoulder, and
turned to catch my brother standing in the foyer with a cigar
dangling from his smile.
I thought it was a no smoking office
building.
I snickered; the rules had never applied to Billy
Hart.

“Jackass.” I picked up my briefcase and
followed him down the hall toward his office.

When we got there, he locked the door behind
us. I took a deep breath, a locked door was never a good sign, and
had a seat in front of Billy’s desk. Pulling a manila envelope out
of my briefcase, I said, “The pictures from last night.”

I slapped the envelope onto his desk, and
without opening it, he placed it in the top drawer. I never asked
any questions. Honestly, I couldn’t care less why he needed the
damn pictures. I was just relieved he never looked at them. But
then again what man wanted to see pictures of his brother’s dick
shoved into some random whore’s ass.

“I’ve got a challenge for you,” Billy said as
he leaned back in his office chair.

Challenge? No woman has ever been a
challenge for me.
I’ve yet to meet a woman who didn’t want my
cock pounding so deep inside them they see heaven.

Our clientele ran the gamut. However, most of
my personal customers were men looking to get out of their marriage
to some money grubbing whore. I did whatever it took to get the
pictures of the cheating bitch, and if there were none to be taken,
I would seduce her into the bed myself. See I was the man no lady
could say no too.

Most men didn’t have a clue what women truly
wanted. Men thought women wanted flowers, walks in the park,
talking about feelings. Truth be known, women wanted to be fucked
so hard they feared they would break. I knew the truth, and I also
knew they wouldn’t break.

While most men fantasize about having a
certain lady, I was the one who got her, used her, and got paid a
pretty penny in the process. But I was growing restless and needed
a break from just another fuck.

“What job?” I started to roll up the cuffs of
my shirt as Billy pushed a file folder toward me. I pulled out a
photo of my next target; her deep brown hair was swept back into a
loose ponytail, t-shirt, yoga pants, the perfect mom uniform.

Cherry Webb

Most of these women couldn’t even get my dick
hard without a pep talk and the big payday when the job was
complete. But this one was different. Even in her picture she had a
radiant light coming from somewhere inside her body, and I might
add a hot body at that. She had curves where every woman should
have them.

This one might actually be enjoyable.
Why
in the hell did any man want to cut her loose?

“What’s the story with this one?” I stood up
and walked over to the wet bar to pour a glass of Jack and
Coke.

“She’s taking her husband for a ride in the
divorce,” Billy said and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess he wants
to prove he is not the only ass in the relationship.”

“Lucky for her, I’ll be the one to explore
her ass,” I choked back my drink and glanced down at my watch.
“I’ve got an appointment in an hour across town. Where is this
little cutie?”

“She works for some unknown newspaper. Her
editor is sending her to interview you about being Master of The
Dungeon.”

I spit out the gulp of drink I took. “Her
boss is in on this.”

“Yeah, apparently she is fucking the husband.
Only the wife has no idea.” Billy smirked. “With bosses like that,
I’m glad I don’t answer to anybody.”

I glanced back down at Cherry’s pictures.
“With a story like that, I’ll make sure to give her a chapter she
can brag about in the nursing home.”

“You didn’t find your husband with his dick
shoved up your best friend’s ass.”

Holy hell.
I slapped my hand across my
mouth and turned a bright flaming red. Did I really yell that out
to my boss no less?
Yes, I did.
I was sick of people telling
me to cheer up. That I was better off without him. It was his loss.
No, it was mine.
I had been married to that man since I was
twenty years old and spent the last sixteen years in total bliss
with whom I thought was my soul-mate. How was I to know he had
spent every one of those years shoving his dick into every hole
that was open and willing?

“I’m sorry, Amy. It’s just I feel . . . lost
. . . I’m still raw.” I tapped my fingers across the steering wheel
and blew a wayward strand of hair off my face.

“Listen, he has been doing everything with a
pussy for years and treated you like shit,” she chimed into the
telephone. “Hell, he was crazy. You’re the sweetest and most giving
person I know.”

But never the prettiest. That was my ex’s
problem with me all along. I was never good enough for him.
Enough of this.

“Back to the subject at hand. I’m already
trying to find a way out of doing this article on Sir. I mean who
only gives Sir as his name?”