This
is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “Breaking
Up".
No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is
intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult
language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to
the reader by this language and these situations.
Control
by
©
08/2002
He
was standing behind the counter talking to a customer when she walked in.
He looked up and smiled knowingly at her, because she was there for only
one reason. But he was going to take
control this time. And keep it.
When
his customers left, he went to the door and locked it, turning the sign to
“Closed” and watching to see what she would do.
She was browsing through a catalog of his work and ignoring him as usual.
He had been demonstrating a camera and now walked over to the counter
where he had left it and leaning against the back wall, began taking pictures of
her.
She
was wearing a short dress, her long legs fully exposed just as he liked.
Her long, black hair hid her face but when she heard the click of the
shutter, she slowly reached around and pulled her hair over her neck, cascading
it down the opposite shoulder to give him a better view.
She still did not acknowledge him, but there was a slight smile on her
face. She thought she was in
control.
He
walked over to her and leaned in close.
He
whispered in her ear, “Come with me,” and took her hand.
He led her into the back of the store which doubled as a small apartment
for him. He was primarily a
free-lance photographer, keeping the store running as a way to earn extra cash.
The first time she had come here was to hire him for her niece’s sweet
sixteen birthday party, but they had both felt the electric chemistry that day
and had ended up in the same place he was leading her to now.
She
was always the aggressor, taking control immediately, allowing him release only
when she was fully sated and only when he wasn’t expecting it.
She would suddenly increase the tempo and he would be taken away before
he realized what was happening. But
they had watched an old movie together and one scene had made her particularly
humid; he thought he would try to use this information to gain the upper hand.
He wanted her more than anything and would do anything for her, but in
this part of their life he wanted her to tremble at his touch and wanted her to
come with just a word from him.
She
had had too many experiences where it was up to her to initiate and terminate
intimacy. She had fallen into the
failed romantic’s cynical outlook towards love-making where it was completely
her responsibility to enjoy herself. He
was going to put an end to that today.
In
his bedroom, he closed the door and pushed her up against it, kissing her
passionately. He stroked her neck
with one hand, holding her hair back with the other.
She was taken aback and tried to move them into a different position, one
which would allow her to dictate the course of events, but he tightened his grip
on her hair and leaned into the kiss, holding her against the door with his
body. He pushed open her legs with
one of his, putting her off balance. From
her neck, he let his hand trace down the shape of her body until he came to the
bottom of her dress and moving up, hooked her panties and ripped them from her.
She
cried out from the pain and hit him, trying to push him away from her.
But he leaned in harder, kissing her more passionately, silencing her
complaint. He pushed her hands above
her head to stop her from trying to push him away.
She was angry, he could tell, and moving his head next to hers so his
mouth was right next to her ear he very softly whispered, “Take it, take the
pain. I love you so much and you
will take this pain.” He kissed
her lobe then moved back to her mouth.
He
let her hands go and she wrapped them around his neck.
She
understood now and would give him what he wanted.
This once.
She
would be wrong.
She
tried to undo his belt, but he stopped her.
She tried to wrap her legs around him to make him harder and need her
more, but he stopped that too. Instead,
he picked her up and carried her over to his bed, laying her down gently.
She could still feel the sting where her panties had cut into her skin
but did as she was told and used the pain to heighten her pleasure.
He
reached back and picked up the remote for the stereo and turned it on.
The song that played was an old favourite of hers that she had told him
about months before. She tried to
say something and he kissed her. She
tried to push him away so she could speak and he kissed her harder.
She tried using her legs to move him, but he stayed on top of her.
She got the idea.
Then
he stopped kissing her and moved back to be able to whisper in her ear again.
As he spoke he once again traced his hand down her body.
His other hand he twined into her hair.
“You
are mine. You’ll always be mine.
I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll never be satisfied with
another man in your life.” Gently
opening her legs, he dipped his finger inside her, eliciting an excited moan
from her. He gently caressed her
inner thighs and the back of her knees; she was writhing with anticipation but
he would not touch her in that special place no matter how demandingly she
thrust her hips at him.
“You
won’t come until I say. Do you
hear me?”
She
moaned again, frustrated.
“Do
you hear me?” he repeated more
forcefully, pulling her hair.
“Yes,”
she managed to choke out. He
released his grip on her hair and kissed her again.
Now his hand moved achingly slow towards her special place, her
“button” as she called it. She
was incredibly wet and he had no difficulty finding her turgid little button,
rock hard and begging for attention.
With
agonizing tenderness, he slowly encircled this hard little thing in the midst of
the satiny wetness that surrounded it.
She
was breathing so heavily, he was afraid she’d come anyway and gruffly
whispered in her ear, “You will not,
not until I say so. I love you so
much, but you will not come.”
Small,
little moans escaped from her throat and she kept herself from sliding over the
plateau. She heard the music and his
soft voice in her head til only two things were apparent to her, those sounds
and the heat from her loins. She
could feel his fingers sliding softly back and forth across her button and each
time he touched it, she felt a small electric shock pass through her body, but
she would not come, he was in control.
He
could feel her heart beating against his shoulder as he kept up the small
movements with his finger and kept whispering in her ear.
“I
love you. You are mine.
This button is mine. And this
is mine,” dipping his finger into her and rubbing the inside ever so slightly,
“you are so beautiful and I love you.
I
know how much you want this. I know
you need me inside you. And I’m
going to be, I am going to plunge into you hard and fast.
I’m going to rip you open.
But
first you are going to come, harder than you ever have and you’re going to do
it when I say you can.”
The
blood rushing through her, the song playing loud, his soft whispering and the
need rising, keeping the need from taking over her body, so hard, and she could
feel how hard he was against her thigh and her heart pounding causing the blood
to pulse through her at a reckless speed.
“Come
on, you can do it, hold it back, keep it inside, don’t let go…”
“I
must, please, oh God, please…”
“Just
a little longer…”
And
then he touched her hard little place and said the word “Now,” softly in her
ear and she was coming and he was right it was so good, so good, so incredible
and the heat from her loins spread through her entire body and she could feel
him pulling back her head with her hair bunched in his hand, but the fingers of
his other hand were caressing her, thrusting in and out of her, causing an
electric spasm to course through her each time he touched her and he was kissing
her again and she didn’t know if she could think anymore because she was all
about this climax that he had given
her, that no one else could ever elicit from her, she was his.
And
he was still whispering in her ear, “It’s good, oh yeah, feel it all, take
it all, I gave this to you, I created this sensation and gave it to you, you are
going to only be able to get this from me.
I
love you, I truly do, you’re so beautiful, so delicious, you taste so good,”
another kiss and then he slowly let her go.
She
lay there waiting for him to begin in earnest, knowing that he must find release
in her, but he was getting up from the bed and stood by the door watching her.
“Aren’t
you…”
“No.
Get up, we’re going out.”
She
could see how excited he still was. “But
you…”
“I
said, no.”
“But
my panties, I can’t…”
“I
am completely aware of your state. I
want you wet, wanting and naked while we’re in public.”
She
looked into his eyes and saw he meant what he said.
She knew who was in control now.
He
would take no argument from her. With
a wicked smile, she got up from the bed, fully displaying her “charms” and
finger-brushed her hair into a semblance not resembling the “freshly-fucked”
look he had managed to give her. Although
it was difficult to walk, she managed to reach his side and take his arm for
support.
In
the mall, they walked past a record store and
the
song was blasting out from the speakers.
He
turned to her and whispered in her ear, “You know what to do.”
The
whole erotic scene played through her mind and before she knew it, she
was
coming again, leaning against him because she couldn’t stand, actually
collapsing to the floor while they both laughed at her coming.
People
began to gather around, but he shooed them away, helped her up and somehow
managed to get his hands between her legs oh-so-briefly which surprised a second
climax from her.
“You
need to take me home,” she smiled at him.
“We're right where we should be.”
THE END
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