Prince of Darkness

By Billy D. Hunter

Sarahs dreams are the stuff of fantasies that few women like her dare to embrace, but they carry prophetic messages with them that reveal their clarity in hindsight. While working as an intern at her fathers firm, she cannot help but be obsessed with Lucius Prince, one of the senior partners and her fathers colleagues. With this obsession comes discovery of a world of eroticism and intrigue that sets Sarah on a journey of self-discovery that envelopes everyone in her life. As she pursues this torrid affair, she will cross countless boundaries and numerous taboos on race, sexual orientation, social status, and alternative relationship dynamics. Her guide on this quest will be the heavy yet loving hand of her beloved mentor and boss, Lucius Prince. As Sarah is taken under his wing and willfully bends to his whim, Luciuss inner demons toy with the chinks in the armor that has long kept his heart inaccessible to women. As Sarahs mind, body, and soul are stretched to limits beyond reason, she learns to become a better person that can live beyond her gilded cage. As she strives to do anything necessary to secure the love of her master, it becomes all the more questionable if the breaking point will secure the tether that binds them or drive them forever apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781524668938

Billy D. Hunter

After reading one rave about the glories of fan fiction BDSM too many, W.D. Hunter embarked on a journey to create a story on leather culture that pushes the imagination and expands erotic exploration while coexisting in a modern world. A participant in BDSM with a penchant Shibari, he started out writing erotic scripts for short adult films before this passion drove him to create a full on story testing the boundaries of the imagination while remaining true and honest to the subject matter and lifestyle being showcased. For those with an understanding that probably does not extend beyond that of mainstream assumptions, he presents this tale to display the BDSM culture in a manner that is respectful and realistic while free of aggrandizing abuse and other falsehoods that laymen might come to believe are acceptable in this lifestyle. For those who have a good working knowledge and or are active members in the leather community, the author hopes that you will find that this story will do the culture justice in its attempt to give a perspective that is not only realistic, but also presents a certain aesthetic pleasure that can only be found when the taboos of our realities cross paths with the taboos of our imaginations. With all consideration taken into account, anyone with a taste for erotic fiction shall come to appreciate this story on some level. In giving thanks to you for taking the time to enjoy the story, the author hopes you will consider it a worthy addition to your personal library and that his humble efforts have been conducive to your enlightenment and even more so to your entertainment.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

She sat at the head of the table in her boardroom as her very persona wore the crown of business world royalty. She wore her dark grey Dolce & Gabbana suit the way a queen wears a royal cloak. Her decisions, her gestures, and every syllable that rolled off her tongue-altered destinies molded the fabric of reality and kept the business world spinning at her whim. Her gold plated personalized fountain pen was her scepter. Every suit and tie in her conference room was her subject. Corporate America was her kingdom. She sadistically basked in the awkward silence at the close of her meeting that all under her heel had to endure until her lips form the words Meeting adjourned. As the room emptied from the presence of slaves adorned in Armani, her assistant briefed her on her schedule for the days to come. Of course, this is all muffled as her mind hungered for other stimulation. She verbally waved off her assistant by uttering, Thank you. That will be enough for tonight.

Finding joy in finally having a moment alone, she lounged in her chair and tilted her head back. This was one of the extremely few pleasures often denied her by her jet-set lifestyle. Unbeknownst to her, another one of those pleasures would be enjoyed tonight… but at a price that she would not only be most reluctant to pay but would have absolutely no say in negotiating.

The sound of the conference room door swinging open drew her attention as she assumed everyone had left for the evening. The man who entered the room was a tower of male stature. His rolled up sleeves revealed biceps that stretched the wrist cuffs of his shirt along with bulging forearms that commanded rough hands. His brown skin amplified his already clear and present definition. The rest of his muscular landscape telegraphed through the rest of his clothes. The view of this specimen would have normally been intimidating to her, yet his commanding presence was hindered by the uniform he wore. Yes, the mountain of a man that had her in a captive gaze for a nanosecond where time seemed to stand still was the janitor; just another nameless and faceless black guy working at the bottom of the totem pole.

Please, I need a moment. An order she issued wrapped in the guise of a polite request given away by dismissive tone.

After a moment’s pause, he replied with an authoritative softness, No!

Snapping her eyes wide open in shock and dismay, Excuse me?

She could hardly remember the last time any man has denied her anything with such insolence, let alone to hear it coming from some nameless and faceless janitor. Before she could even get up to take a glance at his face, he had already pushed his cleaning supplies cart aside to lunge towards the back of her chair to grab her arms from behind and drag her off towards the glass wall facing the adjacent building tower where anyone could view them if they were so inclined. She could not run. She could not scream for security. The sheer astonishment of this moment put her in a state of fear laced with anticipation that left her paralyzed and mute. The janitor held her so close to the window that her startled breath fogged the glass.

The janitor pulled out his cell phone and sent a text. She was able to look down for a second to see the message as it read: She’s ready. Only seconds later, windows of the adjacent tower lit up one by one. In each window, there was someone standing in front as if they are watching them from a distance. Each distant figure took the shape of some businessman working late. Even a few of the figures resembled women in suit dresses. Though they all had a plethora of barely decipherable differences, they all had two things in common: They all looked like they were a part of Corporate America… they were all in that very moment… watching her. Suddenly, a strange feeling of relief took over as she was riding out this erotic storm. It finally dawned on her that at this moment, she was not in charge, thus she did not need to make any decisions. She had no power, thus she was not responsible. She did not have to second-guess herself in any way. Anything that happened at that moment was a surprise. With barely a minute to let this thought and the totality of the situation sink in, the janitor received a response. They both looked down at his smartphone. The reply was one word in all capital letters: ‘BEGIN.’

The janitor ordered her in a soft, deep voice that commanded respect as if he had shouted at her, Bend over on the table. Now! Her eyes opened wide with anticipation. Despite the fact that this is situation was hardly of her own accord, she wanted to see where this dark tunnel would take her. Unable to resist his natural dominance, she did as she was told as she gently breathed out the word, Yes. Lift your skirt, the janitor ordered in similar fashion. She did as told while wallowing in anxiety. Her breath was then fogging the glossy finish of the conference room table as her hands subtly trembled. Her fingers folded her skirt up to her waist to expose her black Simone Perele thong and garter straps. The janitor looked at another message received on his smartphone. Then, in a manner that would suggest he was acting on orders, he pulled her right garter strap to its full elasticity as if he were drawing back on a hunting bow. His fingers loosed an arrow of spanking impact that stung the back of her thigh with a delicious snap coupled with a sumptuous afterburn. The janitor did this repeatedly until her gasps of shock and surprise evolved into yelps of pain that even her fear of alerting security could no longer contain.

With the back of her thighs rosy red, the janitor clutched, massaged, and spanked her perky heart shaped ass until the colors matched. Each blow from his callused hands cracked like lightning and roared like thunder. Her yelps soon became whimpers and moans that echoed in the conference room. Like the welts on her skin, her apprehension began to swell as there was no response to her cries of anguish. This came as another strangely pleasant surprise, considering how loud she was crying. With no one the hear her scream, this could have gone on all night… just as she might have hoped. As the afterburn tingled on her skin, the janitor paused again. Without any warning, the janitor snatched her panties and snapped them right off of her pelvis. The gash of the silk was so abrupt it nearly broke the skin while leaving a sensation as if it had. With her eyes closed so tightly and her mouth wide open, she let out a squeaking cry that robbed her lungs of all air the way a child does after receiving corporal punishment from her parents. She dared not to look back, but she heard his teeth opening a wrapper and the sound of rubber rolling out. Her heart rattled like a rolling snare drum because for the first moment throughout this whole ordeal, she knew exactly what was coming next. If her body were a corporation, then he was the hostile takeover. In anticipation, she braced herself against the table and dug into it like a cat clawing at a surface.

The remnants of her thong were moist in the janitor’s hand. He knew her body was calling for him. Her spine tingled as she felt his fingers run through her hair towards the base of her scalp and came together to grip it hard like a rough wrangler. He entered her slow and easy to introduce his warmth to every square measurement of her inner walls as they quaked to the touch. She drew in a long deep breath as his first stroke went in deeper and wider than her supple body had ever experienced. He left it inside of her for a few seconds and flexed it within her. He wanted her to feel every inch… and she did. He pressed down on her spine to put an arch in her back and increased the tempo with every stroke. His weight upon her was crushing her the way the stroke of her golden pen would crush rival companies.

As she tilted her head to look outside the glass wall, she could see that the spectators from the other offices were clearly enjoying the view. One silhouette looked as though he was undoing his pants while a few others seemed to be sipping on drinks. One window mimicked that of a man sitting in his chair with someone kneeling with their head bobbing in his lap. The distant shadowy figure that stood out the most was a pair that was clearly having sex on the desk as they watched her degradation. At that moment, she was the most stimulating live porno that, at that moment, could not be found on the internet.

As he entered her again, her eyes opened wider and wider as if they were in sync with her swelling labia. This was an endowment that she was hardly used to and would also bring most women to tears. The janitor’s thrusts were so hard that each stroke shifted the large conference room table forward by half an inch. She anointed the table with her tears, drool, and sweat. She wet the floor with her excess woman juices that dripped off the janitor’s throbbing battering ram. She knew she could not take much more, but worry took hold of her at the notion that the janitor would eventually climax. Her moans and groans began to form repetitions of Yes! The janitor drilled into her deep and hard until her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her ears muffled out nearly every audible sound in the room. As she nearly blacked out, she felt it grow and pulsate inside of her harder and harder until the janitor yanked her by the hair onto her knees. Just as he pulled off his condom, the janitor shoved into her mouth all the way to her tonsils. As the janitor climaxed, her mouth overflowed with his seed as it rushed off her lips. Her gag reflex forced her to cough up saliva while she fought the urge to regurgitate when she gasped for air. The janitor’s phone rang. The ring was especially familiar to her for some reason. The janitor did not answer. The phone continued ringing.

The phone ringing was actually her phone. Her name is Sarah Kingsworthy. She was the CEO being taken by the nameless and faceless janitor. Now she awoke from her wet dream. Her panties were soaked along with the sheets of her bed. She looked at her fingers to find they were just as moist. As she got out of bed, she was a bit relieved to find that she did not wake her sorority sister and roommate, Lacey DuBois. Then again, she was clearly too hungover to wake up… much like the company she was sharing a bed with. Sarah rushed to get her panties and her bedding into the laundry before anyone was wiser.

With only days until she finally graduates from college, Sarah Kingsworthy spent her time as she normally had for half of the time she has been at university. She started out as a serious student with ambition and determination to break away from the stereotype of the typical trust fund baby, but as time went on, her drive and motivation caved to social and familial pressures. As a member of her sorority as her mother’s legacy and a debutant at first breath, her future was set in gold before she was ever conceived. Her story, up to this point, is hardly much different from any W.A.S.P. or J.A.P. that had attended an Ivy League school just to make gaining education a secondary objective to marrying well; and with her family’s wealth and connections, she was not the only one well vested in such a life decision. This kind of pressure had long sat upon her shoulders in a similar manner in which another student carries the burden of graduating Magna Cum Laude. At least, it did until her mother arranged a courtship with a blue-blooded heir to a hotel chain. In the meantime, she continued to live up to seemingly impossible expectations as a member of the Kingsworthy family; a blow that was only softened by a lifestyle enveloped in luxury and privilege where she could scarcely recall a single moment where she had been denied anything her heart desired. She was used to getting her way and took much for granted from financial extravagance to the attention of boys on campus. Her wealth and social status aside, she posed quite the prize for any man. Though a natural brunette, the finest hair stylists transformed her thick, waist length mane into golden fibers that waved in the wind like a flag. This matched well with her crystal blue eyes that mimicked ocean waters at high noon. This pretty head stood atop a slender figure, almost suggestive of a lingerie model, but not quite to the point where the view of ribs and pelvic bone robbed her supple breasts and shapely posterior of their due attention. She was a beautiful young lady. The fact that she knew this was just one her many flaws that she would come to acknowledge in due time.

Considering the inherent violence and humiliation she experienced in her dreams, Sarah’s body found her fantasies arousing and thrilling. However, she found them rather disturbing on the surface. She was reminded of this as her eyes caught a view of the time on her alarm clock. The time widened her eyes nearly instantly as she rushed to clean herself up and step out of the door in order to make her morning appointment.

Dude, what’s the hurry? mumbled Lacey as she hobbled from her bed wearing nothing but an extra-large university T-shirt and the stench of tequila.

While throwing clothes out of her closet to find something to wear, Sarah answered, I got a meeting with my professor, and I’m running late.

Although she was on her feet, Lacey was barely awake enough to process her thoughts. It showed as she nearly failed to notice Sarah walking out of their room while she asked her, Why do you need to see your professors? We graduate in like a week, don’t we? Lacey raised her head to find that Sarah left before she could finish her question. A voice full of bass murmured from Lacey’s bed, Hey, ma’. What’s goin’ on? Lacey closed the bedroom door and replied, Round three, brown sugar. That’s what up.

Sarah may have been a tad annoyed with Lacey’s habitual trysts with (whatever music videos would have white suburbia believe to be) typical black men, but she could not deny that she subconsciously envied her. Although she wanted to believe that her mother had arranged an excellent match for her, Sarah sometimes wondered if she would grow into being some sort of trophy wife admiring the more attractive members of the hired help once her husband had grown bored with her. Lacey was quite the caricature herself; the heiress to a family run Oil Business and rumored to be in negotiations for her own Reality Show. If the men who shared her bed so frequently did not find her fame and fortune so beguiling, then it had to have been her hourglass figure with most of the sands of time gathering around the hips. Granted she might have never crossed over into their sorority for having what the members affectionately call a Black Girl’s Booty had it not been for her own family connections as well.

I’m there in the boardroom and this big black guy just grabs me and bends me over a desk. He then texts people in other office buildings watching from across the way as if they are texting him back to tell him what to do to me. Then he flat out rammed me right on the table. He was so rough. For some reason, I even liked it. I just don’t understand why in the world I would like being raped, Sarah confesses to her therapist as she laid upon the rosewood painted chaise longue. This was the appointment that was concealed by the lie of meeting with her professor at the last minute.

Sarah, tell me. Has there ever been a point in your life where someone has ever told you no?

Dumbfounded that the therapist would ask such a question, Sarah’s forehead scrunches as she answers back with, What does that mean? And what does it have to do with anything?

In an attempt to make sense to Sarah, the therapist answered her question, Sarah, we’ve been having sessions for a while, and it strikes me that you grow weary of holding on to control.

Sarah could not believe her ears as she raised up and nearly barked back with, Control? What control? My parents pretty much own my life. My mother has already picked out my future husband, and I have little to no say in any of it.

The therapist nodded in acknowledgment of her points before saying, You know you enjoy all of it. You’ve become accustomed to your lifestyle to the point where you’re actually comfortable living off a trust fund. As for Mr. Alexander Thornburg, your fiancé, he’s the stuff dream men are made of.

With a huff, Sarah threw herself back onto the chaise longue before retorting, He’s not the man of my dreams. The man of my dreams is some nameless, faceless black guy that takes advantage of me every chance he gets.

The therapist remained nearly stoic during Sarah’s ranting before he said, Have you ever noticed how in every one of these dreams, you are in a position of power and great responsibility and your assailant is always someone under your power and stewardship?

She paused before she concurred with a slight nod of her head and replied, Yes.

His tone matched in response to an answer he expected, It is not uncommon for people in positions of power to seek release from the responsibility that normally comes with it.

Sarah stared at the ceiling while looking within herself.

The awkward silence seemed as if it would never end until… Well, it seems that’s all the time we have for today. I know you’re graduating this week, so I can refer you to a colleague if you seek further treatment.

She snapped out of staring into space, No. That won’t be necessary, doctor. Thank you for all of your help.

On the graduation day, Sarah and Lacey were making their way to their assigned seats for the ceremony set up in the main campus menagerie. The sun was beaming on a perfect summer day as their graduation gowns flowed in the gentle breeze. Lacey prattled as if she had never left high school, Can you believe this day is finally here, Sarah? We’re finally graduating. Aren’t you excited?

You know I am. Finally, we’re off into the real world, Sarah replied.

I know, right? O-M-G, I was so scared that old ‘prof’ was going to fail me. I’m like, ‘how can I fail African American studies?’ I so love black cock so fucking much, Lacey laughed.

My god, you are such a slut. How do you live with yourself? Sarah laughed back.

Hey, don’t hate because I get my fill of B-B-C; and I ain’t talkin’ about the British Broadcasting Channel either.

I just don’t get it. How do you get away with bringing gang bangers into the sorority house?

Lacey replied in jest, Well, for one, there aren’t any metal detectors and two, you are such a racist.

How am I a racist? Sarah questioned with a very subtle hint of anger.

Lacey on the defensive, I’m just kidding. Relax. Gosh. But you gotta admit. You immediately assume that those guys are gang bangers. For all you know, they could be college students too.

It also goes to show that I know just as much about them as you do half the time.

Hey, Hakeem and I really connected. I’m sure he’s going to call me back.

Didn’t you say that about Jerome last week?

Wow, you remembered his name?

The day progressed with the common graduation speeches from students, faculty, and choice guest speakers. Their flowery words fell upon ears adjacent to eyes that were either taking repetitive glances at wristwatches or captivated by social media on smartphones. The humdrum pageantry of Ivy League Academia carried on until the last of the students walked across the stage to receive their degrees. Finally, it all came to a close with every graduate tossing their hat into the air. They were off into the real world for lack of better term. This was Sarah’s crowd. Like her, the vast majority of them had never worked a day in their lives. While most were already coasting on golden parachutes that would ensure their feet would never touch the ground, a select few were in for what would be considered a rude awakening at this point in their privileged lives. Sarah would come to find out that she would be among those select few.

CHAPTER 2

Sarah woke from her dreams as disturbed, hot and bothered as ever. This time, she awoke in her parents’ house in her old room. At least, she enjoyed far more privacy than in the sorority house. She was still moist, and the sun was still below the horizon. With everyone in the house still in deep sleep, she reached for her vibrator in the secret compartment of the bed that she liked to think the maids knew nothing about. She kept the setting low but high enough to finish the job that her perverted mind had left incomplete.

It had been nearly six months since graduation, and Sarah was still out of work. This fact was not as nearly as pressing of a concern to her mother than the fact that she still was not married to her fiancé, Alexander Thornburg III. As they sat on the terrace for tea, it did not take very long for that topic to become the subject of conversation. Although she tried to appear sympathetic, Sarah’s mother’s undertone was wrought with criticism, So, is Alex still dragging his heels to the altar?

Yes he is, but that may not necessarily be a bad thing.

Are you getting cold feet, sweetie? It’s perfectly natural, but Alex is a most upstanding young man. He will not only insure your future, but he will insure the future of your children as well.

But mom, I’m not so sure either of us is ready. I mean we’re barely in our twenties, and we’re just starting to live a little bit.

Honey, you can live all you want once you locked him in with that wedding ring.

Mom, can I at least get an engagement ring first?

He hasn’t proposed?!

No, mom. We’re trying to take things slow.

By whatever do you mean? You’ve known each other since college, how much slower can you go?

As Sarah’s mother notices her stroking her brow with a mildly frustrated exhale, she asks, Are you getting enough sleep?

This question caused Sarah’s lower lip to tremble as the first thought that came to her mind was the cerebral replay of her dream from last night. Before an awkward silence could ensue, they were joined on the terrace by James Kingsworthy, billionaire CEO at Marshal, Prince & Kingsworthy Incorporated… and Sarah’s father. James greets his family with a smile, kisses to the head and saying, And how are my two favorite ladies in the world?

Hi, daddy.

Sarah’s mother interjected, Alex still hasn’t proposed to her.

He responded with a smile, Well, what’s keeping him? Has he gotten cold feet or is he just getting too used to the bachelor life? Speaking of which, it’s been a good while since we’ve seen him around. Where is he these days?

Sarah answered with eye rolled upward, Still on his European sabbatical. I just got another postcard a few days ago. He’s having a blast, yada yada yada.

Sarah’s mother stepped in again, Well, no wonder he hasn’t proposed. You’re letting him gallivant all over Europe, giving any floozy a chance at stealing his interests away from you.

Oh, get off it, mom. Sometimes time away is good for a relationship. We’re just taking it slow.

James called the table to order, Now, now ladies. Let’s not get all bent out of shape. I’m sure Alex is on his journey to find himself much like any young man his age. Sweetheart, since you won’t be joining Alex in Europe, maybe you can be more productive working at my firm?

Finding the concept a bit absurd, Sarah’s mother exclaimed James!

What? It will be good for her. It’ll get her involved in the family business. Hopefully, she’ll learn the value of a buck nowadays.

Daddy! Sarah paused to realize that working for her father would not only put her in his favor but annoy her mother who was constantly annoying her over getting married. Now that I think about it, I’d love too.

Excellent, pumpkin. You can start Monday. I’ll have my assistant set up the arrangements.

Sarah’s mother huffed in her discord as James left for the golf course. Before she could walk away, Sarah’s mother sat closer to her to speak with her in confidence now that her father had left them alone. Look, honey. Be realistic for a moment. Once you have his ring on your finger, you can discreetly let Alex fuck all the painted whores he wants, but until then, your place in his life is anything but secure.

Utterly surprised by her mother’s harsh words, Mother, Alex is not fucking around on me. I trust him. You know it really saddens me if that’s how you treat daddy.

Sarah, you’re not a child anymore. It’s time you grew up. Sarah’s mother walked away clearly disappointed, leaving Sarah to contemplate her words.

Sarah was naive, entitled and pretentious. An unfortunate victim of her upbringing. She could not help this any more than a troubled youth being raised in the ghetto. She was young and idealistic, but still had a rather sugar-coated view of how the world worked. Though she was confident that Alexander was not cheating on her while he was abroad, she was torn between the doubts stirred by her mother’s words and the small hope that he was being unfaithful and giving her every reason to break off the relationship before it escalated to an engagement. Granted, she felt for him what she thought was love at that time. Still, she seemed to love having control a little more. She was a free spirit that refused to be controlled by just anyone. As convenient as it would have been for Alexander to be the one, something in her gut meekly objected.

Later that day, Sarah met with her old roommate and sorority sister, Lacey DuBois. As they browsed from one shop to another where the price tags were set to where few people dare not gaze through the windows, Lacey blathered over her personal drama like a bad episode of reality television.

I mean really, I take this thug out for drinks and give him the best sex of his life, and he can’t even call me back? I swear, you can take’em out the hood, but…

You sure you were the best sex he’s ever had? I mean maybe he had better in prison, Sarah laughed.

See? That’s what I’m talking about, Sarah. You’re a Diet Coke racist, Lacey pointed out.

Hey, you just said he was a thug, Sarah rebutted.

Lacey attempted to justify by saying, Yeah, but when I say it, it’s a term of endearment. I mean he has ‘Thugg Lyfe’ tatted on his chest. It means he’s a badass.

Sarah mumbled under her breath while trying on a dress, Yeah, the baddest ass in the yard.

Say what?

Oh, nothing. You know I just don’t know what you see in those guys. I mean, what is it? Sarah asked, feigning genuine interest.

Oh, come on. The white boys on campus are just so… so… I don’t know what to say without coming off a total bitch, but…

Sarah mumbled under her breath again, Too late for that.

It’s just that black guys are just so beastly. They don’t take any shit. They always have rhythm. The skin contrast is sexy as hell. And speaking of sex… Lacey paused with a devilish smile.

Sarah interjected, And here we go…

Really, they fuck like angry guerillas.

Sarah looked at Lacey, eyes wide open, posting up her fingers like quotation marks, And I’m the ‘Diet-Coke Racist’?

Lacey clumsily repudiated by saying, Look. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just when I’m with guys like Marcus, they really know how to get it done.

Sarah continued to ridicule Lacey sarcastically, Yeah, why waste time on romance?

Oh, whatever. That’s why black guys are so awesome. They aren’t like these ‘emo’ white boys that think girls just want some weeny in skinny jeans to offer her a promise ring. Black guys just take it and give it to you raw. Like a real man does.

Sarah then asks, Well, if you like them so much, why haven’t you introduced any of them to your folks?

While pausing just long enough to think of what she will say next, Well… Like you’d bring any of your one night stands home to mommy and daddy?

Sarah’s mind brings her to attention as she says, Oh, that reminds me. I need some new suits for work.

Lacey turns back in surprise, Work? You got a job?

Yeah, I start working at daddy’s firm on Monday. It will be good to keep my mind off Alex for a bit.

He’s still in Europe?

Yeah, he is. I didn’t feel like going.

Why the fuck not? The shopping is fantastic. I swear you’re so spoiled, Sarah.

Sarah just stared back at Lacey out of pure irony. As they continued shopping, Sarah took a short moment to acknowledge her envy for Lacey. Alexander had been gone a while and, aside from whenever her wet dreams that haunt her, her own bed sheets were as cold as they were lonely. The most seemingly insignificant details would drive the theme of her fantasies long before she could notice.

In an effort to lighten the mood, Lacey comes out of left field with, Hey, let’s check out some lingerie.

Sarah joked back with, Who would we wear it for? Alex is across the ocean and you, well, wouldn’t wearing underwear just be a hindrance for you?

Oh, you are just no fun at all, are you?

I’m just kidding. Let’s go. I could use some new panties myself.

At the lingerie boutique, while Lacey chose the pieces she would try on based on their level of salaciousness, Sarah based her choice on simplicity and practicality; simplicity because she had no one in her life nor her bed to model for and practicality because she had no need for complex underwear that would obstruct or fail to assist her ability to pleasure herself in Alexander’s absence.

Lacey looked to the sales clerk, Excuse me, but how does this make my ass look?

Sarah looked to Lacey in mild disgust, Lacey. Really?

Lacey rebutted, I’m trying to get a non-biased opinion here.

As the sales