“You’re always so good when my cock is inside you,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly with arousal. “I love feeling you submit properly and naturally. You know you’re mine, don’t you, Laura. You may not know who I am. But you know damn well that you are owned.”
“Yes,” I moan softly as he rubs my clit in circles as he fucks me hard in one last crescendo of sexual frenzy. I could stay in this moment forever, but it can only last another minute or two before he is over me, kissing me deeply as he spends himself inside me, pumping cum deep into my well-fucked pussy.
We stay like that for a good long few minutes, before his cock starts to soften and slide from me, a hot trickle of his cum seeping out of me as he slips out.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he stands up, tucking his cock back into his pants.
He instantly looks back in control, well dressed, fully clothed. Meanwhile I am spread-eagled on the bed dripping his cum, and feeling barely coherent. He’s fucked me into a state where I just want to sleep. I am absolutely exhausted.
“Before I go, I’ll take out the trash,” he says, crouching down and reaching under the bed. He pulls out a big object wrappedin rope. At first I don’t realize what it is. Then I sit up and see a familiar man with a bloodied face.
“Dave!” I gasp in shock. “You… fucked me with my ex under the bed?”
“I know, twisted, isn’t it. I think this will be a good lesson for him.” The stalker kicks him in the gut casually, then grabs the ropes and starts dragging him out of the room.
“What are you going to do with him?” I call out, getting up on my knees. “Don’t kill him! He’s stupid but he doesn’t deserve to die!”
“He tried to protect you from an intruder,” my stalker says. “And that’s the only reason he’s not dead right now. Go to bed, Laura. I will see you tomorrow, and you will want to be well rested when you see me.”
I sit back down on the bed, absolutely befuddled as my stalker drags my ex out of my apartment and out of my life forever.
CHAPTER 6
Laura
“Does the fried fish come with fries, or do I have to order them separately?”
The nice old lady in front of me is making reasonable inquiries about the contents of her meal and I can barely concentrate enough to answer her.
I don’t know what to make of my life anymore. I used to think I understood the world and the people in it. But now every night a man comes to me and my whole world is turned upside down. The mystery plays in my mind constantly, as I try to work out how to find out who he is.
“It comes with either fries and salad, or baked potatoes and broiled vegetables,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she says. “I think I’ll have fries, hold the salad, and add a chocolate pie.”
“Perfect,” I say, making a note.
As I turn and walk away, my underwear feels tight and even rough against my sensitive ass. He kept me up all night alternately spanking and fucking me, until pleasure and pain were just one thing and I was lost in them both. I know if I look in the mirror I’ll see a red flush that seems to be insisting on staying around.
I adjust my underwear surreptitiously as I key the order into the computer. Maybe I should take them off. They feel really damn tight. I don’t like wearing thongs, but one of those would be better on a night like this.
I cannot possibly be considering buying special underwear for when my impossibly rich stalker feels like beating my ass. I still have the money, but even that is making me nervous. It’s in my bag right now. I’m afraid to put it in the bank. I know they’ll want their taxes. I’m also afraid of someone stealing it.
I could quit my job, but easy come, easy go. The psycho could steal the money, and I’d be fucked.
“Table three is up!” the kitchen calls. I collect the tray and carry it over to the hungry diners. A Salisbury steak, two of the fish, and one of the prawn pasta. They’re so happy to get their meals. Meanwhile, my butt feels like it’s being chafed off. Such a mundane concern given the insanity I’m enduring.
I run to the bathroom on my next break and take my panties off. I stuff them in my bag and grab a quick drink before going back to work. It does feel a lot better than before. The skirt I’m wearing has a smooth lining that’s much more gentle on a spanked ass.
I finish my shift in relative peace. The patrons are tipping well tonight, though now that I know I have thirty grand in my bag, the tips don’t feel quite so good.
I keep thinking about what to do with the money. Maybe I’ll buy a cheaper car. Something I can actually afford to insure. I’ll pay some bills, too, and maybe get something for my mom. She never gets to treat herself.
“Table six wants another round of fries,” Willa says. “They grabbed me on the way past.”
“No problem,” I say.
Work is busy and I don’t really have much of a chance to think about anything else until the shift ends. It’s a little later than usual, close to eleven by the time we lock up and head out.
