Naughty Girls

By Carlos Sonarts

Are you looking for the perfect story to fuel the sparks of passion in your relationship? Look no further than "Naughty Girls", the story that captures the emotion and romance between two people. With captivating descriptions, readers will be transported to a new world that only emerges when two hearts are intertwined.

"Naughty Girls" will draw you in with its unique and intimate stories.  With each description, readers are enriched with a gentle reminder of the grace and power of love. Your heart will flutter in anticipation with each kiss and passionate embrace.

"Naughty Girls" is the perfect gift to ignite the flame and cement your bond of love. Let "Naughty Girls" take you both on an unforgettable journey and experience the joy of being in love.
 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Martinez
• Release date: Apr 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215257463

Book preview

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Table of Contents

Story 01

Story 02

Story 03

Story 04

Story 05

Story 06

Story 07

Story 08

Story 09

Naughty Girls

Author: Carlos Sonarts

Story 01

The alarm clock rang on the deep mahogany bedside table. Tom Bolden raised a weary arm and knocked it out with an awkward movement. It was 7am and the morning light was already creeping through the blinds. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, adjusted to his awareness, and then jumped off the bed in one quick movement and trotted toward the bathroom.

Tom turned the shower handles and waited for the water to warm up. He stood in front of the large framed mirror and stared at himself thoughtfully. Not bad, he thought to himself. Tom was thirty years old and although he wasn't a model he was quite handsome. His short brown hair was matted from a restful sleep. Holding his hands under the faucet, he bent down and brought up a handful of cool water, which splashed his face. He stood up again, took a second look at himself, and then smiled crookedly, as if liking what he was seeing. He slipped into the shower and doused himself under the jet of water and began lathering himself up.

I have a few more pages to work out before lunch. He mumbled to himself.

It was a reasonable goal. Tom had published a couple of books and the latest had finally made him a tidy sum. Tom loved his life. He never intended to be a writer. It just happened. He had toyed with the idea of writing an opus after college and wrote a sexual thriller instead. He always thought it was amateurish, bordering on erotic, and never intended to pursue it further. It wasn't until a friend submitted him to the literary agency under a pseudonym instead of his real name that Tom fell haphazardly into his new career. He often chuckled when he thought of the overly clever agent describing him as fresh, dangerous, and incurably talented. What did that even mean? He learned not to ask too many questions after it sold for six figures. He kept all his work under his pseudonym and few people knew details of his career.

After a relaxing twenty minute shower, Tom dried off and stepped into the large walk-in closet. He had good taste in clothing, but he preferred comfort most of the time. He pulled on a pair of boxers, slipped into a pair of loose-fitting jeans, and grabbed his vintage Stones t-shirt. These were his work clothes when he intended to write. He checked himself in the mirror again, then went downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

This new book had given him some real problems. After the success of his first books, Tom felt an uncomfortable pressure to meet his publisher's expectations. In an effort to stay nervous, Tom had also stumbled onto an entirely different path in life. A few years ago, while researching for his second book, he stumbled upon the world of bondage and submission. At first he told himself it was just for the book, but soon found himself in dark corners of the city living out these fantasies. He repeatedly met with the professional dominants and asked them endless questions. He participated in training sessions and learned the ins and outs of the lifestyle. The book was a resounding success. He remembered the reviews.

Dark. Sexual. Brilliant

...exhilarating journey into the taboo world that makes you want more...

...his second novel proved him a powerhouse, making the reader grapple with his basest desires...

blah. blah. blah. Tom always hated book reviews. Who were these people anyway? All Tom knew was that after completing the book, he missed the world of domination and submission. His biggest problem was the nature of the lifestyle. He wanted to discover it himself, but it didn't seem like an easy way in. Did you just have to jump in with both feet? Have you just proposed to a woman? Wasn't there an option for him to just dip a toe in and test the waters? It seemed so unattainable. How did it come about, he wondered, that women entered this lifestyle? Surely there must be women out there who wanted to explore their submissive natures who were too shy.

Tom pressed the button on top of his Jura coffee maker. With the money from his second novel, he had afforded himself a very nice home. It wasn't ostentatious by any means, but it was spacious and tasteful on a generous lot at the foot of the Hollywood Hills. He's had the pleasure of having it fully updated and wired to accommodate his technological obsession. However, his coffee maker was perhaps his most prized possession - the source of his motivation during times of writer's block. Tom sipped his coffee and flipped through the headlines on his iPad. That's how it started out most days. There was an airiness about him despite his obsessive tendencies. He was one of those rare people who, seemingly by accident, succeeded in almost everything he tried to do.

Indeed, almost by accident, or at least with little effort, he fell into the second obsession of his life outside of writing. Tom had decided that his third novel would be a prequel after the unexpected success of his second novel. So he had sold it to his agent and publisher. The truth, of course, was that he needed a reason to delve back into the world of bondage, dominance and submission.

So, just over two years ago, he reunited with self-proclaimed BDSM dominants, masters, and owners—whatever they called themselves. He asked as many questions as he could. He wanted to know every nuance of how it worked. Tom sat quietly in the corner of a dingy room and watched an attractive brunette submit to punishment. He was fascinated by her strength. That, Tom finally realized, was the source of his excitement. It's not that she was obedient; it was their willingness to be obedient. He cocked his head slightly as their owner rained down relentless blows with his paddle. She took everyone with grace, despite the obvious pain it must have caused her. Tom could feel his cock getting hard. He blindfolded this woman when she took the punishment. Her face was a mixture of pain and joy. Her gaze never wavered. It was, he thought, as if she were looking into his soul.

He was haunted by her face for the next week. He had dreamed about her. He had dreamed about her. By this time he had seen a variety of these interactions. He always lacked a certain perspective. In this shared look with the brunette, he soon recognized his mistake. He had learned from men when he had to understand women.

He found himself voraciously reading every book he could find on the subject. He opened up to the lifestyle and discovered that the whole arrangement had an etiquette. It was, he imagined, as if the dominant and his submissive were engaged in an intricate dance - a ballet of emotions. He found every aspect so rich in meaning - kneeling, posing, performing. He longed for the excitement it gave him. He wanted to become a teacher who unleashes his student's potential. He wondered how many misguided men there were with the wrong idea of what it was like to be dominant. He wondered how many women must have a secret desire to submit. Somewhere deep inside he felt that he had discovered the deeper meaning. He was sure he was connected to it in a way that even the people who made the lifestyle their business didn't quite understand.

Tom was only twenty-eight then. His success had enabled him to have many affairs with attractive women. He was by no means a wimp in bed. He'd just never been able to sustain a long-term relationship. He's been sexually charged all the time lately. He had started masturbating a few times a day. It had become a distraction, but a distraction he definitely enjoyed.

It was one afternoon, stroking his powerful erection, that he decided to put an ad online. It was for research purposes, of course, although he had trouble even convincing himself that this was no longer true. If he could understand the female perspective, perhaps he could discover the emotional hook to give his character a dynamic and realistic arc. He kept it simple. It read as follows:

Successful novelist researching for next book would love to meet with women involved or interested in sexually submissive relationships or BDSM. This is a research-only, anonymous interview. Ready to compensate your time.

He had quickly realized his mistake in offering compensation. He was inundated with emails from women willing to say whatever it took to make a quick buck. He had spent a few days filtering through the multitude of responses. He'd been dealing with an almost non-stop boner as his obsession grew. Through a few simple back-and-forth correspondences, he had narrowed himself down to about twenty-five people who seemed genuinely intrigued by the lifestyle.

In the backyard guest house, Tom wrote all his books. It gave him the idea of going to work every day, so he just kept it for that purpose. The second floor had been converted into a loft with built-in dark maple bookshelves and a command desk. It was fully furnished with plush leather chairs and end tables creating a very mature, professional if not slightly literal environment. There were large windows on two of the walls, bathing the area in natural light and offering a nice view of the lush foliage outside. The upper floor looked down on the lower one. This meant that almost half of the guest house had a vaulted ceiling. It felt open and airy, and Tom liked the feel of the open space. The lower level was supposed to be some sort of living room, but he'd rarely spent time there. When not working, he preferred the comforts of the main house.

At the lower level, he decided to do the interviews with the women he met through his ad. He built them up over the course of the week. The process stayed the same. He greeted everyone at the front door, gave them a brief tour of the house for courtesy, and then took them out to the guest house to show them his office, finally starting the conversation downstairs. By the time they were seated, the initial awkwardness and nervousness had subsided, and the legitimacy of his writing as a mode of meeting had been established.

Tom was proud of his preparation. He had compiled a list of questions and topics to address over the course of the interview. Over the week he's asked numerous women what they know about the lifestyle, what they think about it, what turns them on or off. He asked her opinion on spanking, paddling, kneeling, collaring, emotional ballet, and so on and so forth. He had come to several conclusions. For one thing, most of these women were unaware of the true nature of the lifestyle. Second, there seemed to be real intrigue, as if acting out this type of arrangement was a secret fantasy they kept in the depths of their minds.

The most interesting conclusion he came to was the rapt attention they paid him when he explained his own views. Tom never realized that his sudden obsession had turned into a passion and that his passion led him to speak of submission as the most erotic and intimate expression of lust and love. He finally got a chance to speak his mind out loud and the resulting flow of words sounded more like an ode to all things sexual.

Tom hadn't even realized the effect he was having on her. The resulting comments were all quite similar. The way you describe it is so sexy or My God, it makes me wet when you describe it or Why hasn't anyone ever explained it like that before. Hearing these things turned him on and did his best to hide the erection he was getting while talking to them. He kept telling himself it was professional; that they were just being honest. Your comments were about the template, not him.

The information gathered was invaluable. A man can never really write a female character with the depth and complexity she deserves. He had always struggled with this problem in his writing. Though reassured by his publisher and reviewers, he never believed the women in his books were complete. But now he felt like he'd taken a step closer. He had met nineteen of the twenty-five women he had chosen. Some of them had tried their hand at BDSM. Some of them have had encounters with men who thought they were dominant but ended up being misguided assholes. Many of the women only fantasized about it. It was an endless wealth of information for Tom, and he absorbed every bit of it.

It was the twentieth woman that shook his perception that this was still research at all. She just listened to him talk on and on about the lifestyle and what it meant from things he had read and seen. His passion can be clearly felt in every word he says. She could see that although he had been a perfect gentleman, the clear outline of a massive erection was in his pants. His words went through her core like vibrations. She wished he would just stop talking. Her panties were already soaked. When she couldn't contain herself any longer, she slid forward in her seat, slowly scooted to her knees and looked up at him with uncertain eyes and asked, Would you train me? I mean you know so much... and. .. I would ... you?

Tom took her form. It wasn't even a question, but more of a request. She had given herself to him. She'd only given him her first name, Alexis, and he guessed she was in her early thirties. She knelt expectantly in front of him. Her white blouse held an impressive bust and was neatly tucked into a sleek black skirt that fell below her knees. Her blonde hair was perfectly placed, framing her soft features. He was speechless when he shouldn't have been. Somewhere deep inside he knew he dreamed of having a submissive of his own. It was the source of the passion that flowed through his words. He'd been so busy with his research that he hadn't been with a woman in almost two months. When he saw her kneeling, something inside him stirred. His erection throbbed against the length of his inner thigh.

He couldn't form the words he wanted. His confident voice had been silenced by her prone position. Reaching down, he undid the buttons of his jeans, grabbed his erection and pulled it out so that it hung aimlessly in the air. With an audible gasp, she crawled forward and took it in her small hands. They both knew his actions were an invitation, and in return her action was an acceptance. Tom had always been well endowed at just over ten inches, a thickness she could not wrap her fingers around. He sat back with lustful eyes and watched as the slim blonde devoured him to completion.

By the time she accepted her offer to undergo the training, Tom's life had officially taken a life-changing turn. His fantasies became reality and with the help of Alexis he found his own niche in the world of domination and submission. He fidgeted at first, but Tom was a fast learner and he honed the skills to do the right thing for the women in his life. Alexis knew his passion meant she could never have him to herself, and she only accepted what he was willing to give. For her, however, she gave back incessantly and unconditionally. For the first time in her life she felt complete with a man.

His third book was a complete success. With his new muse, he seemed to have an endless supply of creativity streaming through his fingers and pounding on his keyboard. With the help of Alexis, he established himself as the commanding Dominant, well versed in the lifestyle. Its reputation has been whispered discreetly in beauty salons and day spas. People knew about him but didn't know how to contact him. Tom's need for secrecy and modesty unintentionally made him a person to be met only through references. He felt empowered by it, and he did not discriminate based on age or race. All women were entitled to explore their sexuality and he would not stand in the way of that self-discovery.

Whether by accident or design, Tom Bolden had achieved an impressive life. Now, nearly three years later, he was standing in his kitchen, sipping his freshly brewed coffee, reading the day's headlines, and preparing to turn a few pages before afternoon. Alexis had already gone back to tidy up the guest house that had become his workspace for his novels and submissive training. It was easy to see where his crooked smile and confidence in his gait came from. He had a measure of wealth, women, and success. As he walked out to enjoy the warm morning breeze on the sunlit patio, he thought to himself that nothing could stop him now. He was satisfied.

******

Then he heard the doorbell. Strange, he thought. He hadn't made any appointments this morning. He went through the kitchen back into the foyer and opened the front door. Standing in front of him might be the only thing that could stop him, or at least complicate things.

My little boy! you don't call You don't check your messages. As far as you're concerned, your mother doesn't even exist. She babbled and pushed her way through the door, several suitcases in tow. You know I've been trying to reach you for a week. One week! What do I have to do to get a call back?

Shit mom, what are you doing here? You shouldn't turn up unannounced.

Unannounced?! She yelled back in a whirl of movement and words. Maybe you should check your messages from time to time. She snorted and dropped her bags in a heap in the foyer.

Tom knew she was right. He often walked long distances without a phone connected so he could work. He couldn't remember the last time he checked his messages, and Alexis did most of his appointments.

Is dad with you? he asked, trying desperately to wrap his head over this sudden intrusion. He stared at her questioningly as her eyes glazed over and her blithe composure broke. The tears rose and she fell into his arms, sobbing.

Mom? Mom, what happened?

She sniffled and tried to calm down. She cleared her throat and got it out in a low whisper. He left me. She started sobbing uncontrollably.

"He left you? asked Tom, feeling bad for not answering her calls. He wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. It was strange for him to offer security all his life to the woman who had given her to him. He had never seen her so vulnerable and shaken.

Six days ago... for... she sniffed, ...for a whore masseuse...I...I mean how cliched is that...a...fucking masseuse! There was anger in her voice. Beneath the devastation lay a layer of disgust and anger that had yet to be revealed.

Oh shit. Tom was shocked. He certainly didn't see that coming. His parents always seemed happy. That was just as hard for him to take, but she needed him now, so he composed himself and took charge. C'mon mom, let's get you a drink and some tissues. He said and led her into the living room.

Tom loved his parents very much. He was always an independent child. He left for college at eighteen and stayed in Los Angeles to pursue his career. His parents knew the basics. Tom was a writer. He never stated what he wrote. Last but not least, Tom Bolden had never been a boastful man in his life. He didn't need any recognition or congratulations, and he knew that as long as he was happy and independent, his parents would be happy.

His parents had only visited once. Tom preferred to fly back and visit her at his childhood home in upstate New York. He was uncomfortable having his mother there unannounced. She had never been to his house before. The last time she was in town, he lived in a small two-family house. He had, of course, told his parents when he moved, but he had never stated that he had bought a house and they naturally assumed that at thirty he was still renting. It was no surprise that her teary eyes were wide as saucers as he led her out of the expansive foyer, through the kitchen and set her down on a comfortable plush sofa.

Tom pushed the matching ottoman slightly to one side and lifted her feet to remove her shoes. He grabbed the universal remote from the coffee table, and with a frantic tap, the blinds on the far wall slowly opened, revealing a floor-to-ceiling view of a lushly planted backyard as the warm morning light filled the room. Another tap and the soulful voice of Nina Simone sounded softly from the built-in speakers. He knew that she loved Nina. When he was a kid, that's what she heard when she felt down. His mother stared at him with his natural ease and began to calm down.

"Wait here. I'll be right back We'll talk, have a drink, and then I'll show you the house. He said and touched her arm reassuringly.

Tom returned a few minutes later with a bottle of champagne on ice, a carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice and two champagne flutes on a serving tray.

Mimosa! He smiled. It sounds like we have a lot to talk about and I, for example, need a drink. How about?

Thomas, it's 8am and you're starting to drink? Her tone wasn't disapproving. Rather, it seemed like a knee-jerk comment a mother should say to her son.

So you want to tell me what a bastard my father is without a drink? he asked pointedly.

She dealt with the last two weeks that led her to her son's house. With a deep sigh, she simply said, Make mine with just a squeeze of orange. Then why don't you start by telling me how you can afford to rent such an apartment? It's absolutely gorgeous! I was sure the taxi driver made a mistake when he stopped in front.

Tom poured two glasses and handed one to his mother. I guess I have to have a long explanation. I'm sorry. I wanted to fly you and dad in for Christmas because it was so long ago. The apartment is not rented. I bought them back a few years ago. The writing is going better than expected.

It is yours! She interjected. "But how? I thought you had a hard time with writing. Your father and I always thought you should have chosen a different profession.

Well, he began, my agent has been doing everything right for the last few years, and I've definitely had a bit of success writing some novels. I never wanted to brag to you and pop. I've always said I'm fine. good." Tom stopped and took a sip of his mimosa.

Before he could finish, the soft voice of Alexis came from the kitchen. Sir, are you here? She said as she walked through the glass doors into the kitchen and placed his stray coffee mug in the sink. Sir? I started your computer, put the partial manuscript on the desk next to the printer with a new red pen. I know you said the other one is running low. I swapped your music choices for the morning. And I still have a last-minute appointment to make this afternoon... she stammered on, quite professionally. It was Wednesday and she loved Wednesdays.

In the excitement of the last thirty minutes, Tom hadn't even considered that Alexis would be looking for him. She kept him on a tight schedule when he had work to do. Tom liked that about her.

You have an assistant? His mother mumbled that she didn't want the other woman to hear her.

I...uh... and that was all he could get out, suddenly realizing the embarrassment that was about to happen. It was too late to stop it. He inwardly winced. Not exactly an assistant mom. Be nice.

Alexis jumped around the corner and another realization hit him. It was Wednesday. Alexis loved Wednesdays because that was the day she only had to wear lingerie. Today she had opted for a black corset that kept her tiny waist taut. The thin straps at the bottom of the corset held her thigh-high stockings snugly in place. The thongs themselves framed the black lace panties that seemed to follow every curve of her perfectly rounded ass. Her large, firm breasts hung over the corset. She had chosen the black Jimmy Choo stilettos he had given her for her birthday. Her hair was down today and flowed out in a long golden mane. He knew she chose it to inspire him. Even though she looked amazing, Tom couldn't have been more embarrassed in front of his mother.

Oh, there you are, sir! I've been looking for you. She stammered as she entered the room. She suddenly stopped and followed his gaze to the sofa. Oh sir, I'm sorry I didn't know you had a guest! She leaned over the couch and held out her hand to the older woman, My name is Alexis.

The tilt of her torso as she reached out for her greeting had caused her breasts to sway forward quite obscenely, drooping right in front of his mother's face. Tom winced again. He wouldn't normally invite women into the house unless they knew the situation, so it didn't occur to Alexis to be shy about her looks.

Alexis. That's my mother... Tom began before his mother interjected.

Marie Bolden. Please call me, Marie. She tried not to focus on the perfectly tanned balls in front of her. Confused by how comfortable this woman seemed to be in her nudity, she didn't know how to act on her own.

Oh, what an honor, Marie! she snorted. She often snorted when she got nervous. Tom found it adorable. She wrapped her hands around her voluminous chest. I'm terribly sorry that they have a mind of their own. How inappropriate to wave in their faces! It's a bit embarrassing."

And you're? asked Marie Bolden with a curious look at the strange situation that was unfolding. She wondered if she should pretend this wasn't as uncomfortable as it felt.

Alexis knew who she was. She was Sirs Alexis. Its submissive. However, she had never had to explain it to anyone and wasn't sure what to say. She seemed confused for a moment, nervous that she might reply in a way he would disapprove.

Mom, don't jump to conclusions! Tom rebuked giving Alexis a break. Alexis is my absolute be-all and end-all. If it weren't for her, everything here would fall apart. Alexis beamed inward at the answer. It was such an honor to be praised so highly. Alexis, could you maybe wear something more appropriate. And she could use some tissues and maybe something to eat.

Yes indeed. She said she disappeared around the corner.

Marie looked at her son with raised eyebrows. What on earth was that? She asked. Is that how you live out here? No wonder you don't visit me anymore. And how long may I ask if you've been seeing this woman? is this serious a friend or employee? Please tell me you're not sleeping with an employee.

"Mom, stop it! I'm not getting involved. And stop exploring my life. I'm sorry you had to meet this way.

Well, she likes you. A mother knows things like that. I can see her looking at my little boy. And that outfit! Come on, nobody really looks like that in lingerie. She's stunning. Maybe just a tad too comfortable to wear. others around though."

Tom sighed heavily. Mom, if you don't stop, I'll check you into a hotel. It wasn't harsh as it turned out, and she knew enough to move on without taking offense, although she thought there was something odd and inappropriate about the attractive blonde prancing around half-naked at her son's house.

Tom changed the subject and turned his attention to the elephant in the room. So, Tom continued. What happened? Tell me everything.

Marie drained her glass in one gulp and refilled it with a trembling hand. I... well... I... oh my goodness... I'm afraid to say that. She started seriously. Her eyes filled with tears again as she began recounting the events. He's been acting strange for the past few months. He had injured his back quite badly in December when he slipped on ice while shoveling the sidewalk. I... I took him to the doctor. You know how he is about doctors. Always the hero. But I did him and they sent him to physical therapy. It was impossible to get him to leave, and then he insisted on not missing appointments.

Alexis came back into the room with a fruit salad and a box of tissues. Her previous attire had been traded in for a pretty lime green fitted V-neck t-shirt and a pair of slim fitting jeans. She had decided not to wear a bra and Tom was staring at the tips of her nipples protruding through the fabric. He loved this woman more than he ever admitted. Alexis placed the tissues next to Marie and glanced at Tom, who was looking for some sort of direction. Normally she would kneel at his feet, but suddenly she didn't know how to act. He eyed the couch next to his mother and she quietly took a seat.

Thank you dear. She said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She capped her glass with the last of the champagne. The alcohol had loosened her nerves. Marie had never been a big drinker, and a few glasses only made her a little tipsy.

So, she continued, we hadn't...erm...slept together...I can't even remember how long. I was starting to get suspicious. So I showed up to one of his appointments to meet his physical therapist. I assumed the worst, of course. To my surprise and relief, the therapist was a man. I felt so stupid I overreacted. So I sat and waited for your father to finish and thanked the therapist. On the way out, I joked and said, 'When do you think he'll be 100% in the sack?' She sniffed again. The therapist said, 'Oh, well, he was just joking yesterday and saying it was better than ever. I knew immediately something was wrong, and I didn't even know he had received massage therapy. I certainly hadn't slept with him."

She sobbed easily. Alexis reached out her hand and took it between hers. Marie glanced at the young woman, who also had tears in her eyes. It's okay. whispered Alexis after getting the gist of the story. It's not your fault.

Tom was amazed at the woman Alexis had become. She had been such a confused woman when he first met her two years ago - unhappy, lost, empty. She had admitted that in the first months of her training. Now she moved with purpose, sensitivity, confidence, and most importantly, grace. She had become the perfect accompaniment to Tom's dominant lightness.

Wait? interjected Tom cautiously. Did you confront him?

Marie cleared her throat again and prepared to continue. No. You know him. I had nothing but a blunt comment from a stranger who had barely spent time with him. He would say he was bragging or bragging, you know? A little fibbing among men. I...I knew there was some truth to it, though. I felt it in my bones. So I waited and followed him.

A few days later I was waiting in front of his office. He had worked late on Tuesdays. Some big project at work, he said. I followed him home and he turned into a quiet area. I parked the car across the street. I saw him walk in... and... I... I didn't think I could get out of the car. My legs felt like dead weights. But I had to know. So I grabbed my phone and walked down the side of the house and peered through a window. Sure enough there was a whole therapeutic massage set up in the living room. Except... she shivered as she narrated the image, she was stretched out on the massage table and he fucked her.

You've seen it? asked Tom. Oh mom, I'm so sorry.

Saw it! She said and took the phone out of her purse. I recorded it! I didn't want to let him deny it. Here you can see for yourself. I don't want to look. I saw it a thousand times before I confronted him that made him forget his wife. The contempt was evident as she passed the phone to Tom.

Tom pressed play and watched the shaky video come to life. In fact, his father would smack a little tramp as she squirmed and screamed beneath him. That was worse than he thought. Certainly there was no turning back once you saw the vivid account of his indiscretions.

Oh shit. he said quietly.

Oh shit is right. She assured him. So that evening I asked him if everything was alright. He became withdrawn and defensive. 'I'm busy with work, Marie. I don't need you to increase the pressure.' That's what he said to me. We've been married 32 years, Tom. Thirty two! He thinks I can't sniff out his bullshit? We've known each other since we were fifteen — high school fuck stuff honey. She snorted as anger replaced sadness. So I said to him, 'Are you sure that's all? There is nobody else? Another woman?' And he yelled at me. You're so melodramatic. When the attention isn't on you, I need to be outside fucking other women. I'm so mad at you right now. I'll work my ass off for you, for our family. , and you come at me with reproaches?'

Tom and Alexis both listened with rapt attention as she continued the report.

So I apologized. He had never snapped at me like that in our entire marriage. I said, 'Sorry John I believe you.' You see I played shy. He calmed down. He looked me straight in the eyes and brushed my hair back with the fingers that had been stuck in that little whore two hours ago. And he said, 'I promise.' So he turned to pour himself a drink. I pulled out the phone and said, 'Sorry, work was hard honey. Tell me, is this the work that was so hard to do.' And I put the phone on the counter with the video of him playing with the volume all the way up. He looked at it, silent. Then he looked back at me. I said, 'Don't worry John thirty-two years...really? Is that what I get, infidelity and outright lies? He didn't answer. So I asked, Do you love her? he said yes The first words he spoke were that he loved her. 'Are you going to stop?' And do you know what he says? I can't. Are you kidding me? I had already packed a bag. So I looked at him and said, I don't want much, John. Half the pension, half the house, and a few things of sentimental value. you can have the rest I will be with my sister and she will contact someone to contact you to work things out.'"

So that's it, Tom. She squeaked. I've been staying at Aunt Jane's for six days. She takes care of the legal affairs for me. Your dad stopped by her house to try and talk to me, and she suggested I leave town. So I bought a ticket yesterday and landed at 6am this morning.

I'm so, so sorry mom. said Tom with the utmost sincerity. I do not know what to say. I am angry. I'm so angry with him. How could he do that to you?

Oh, sweetheart, don't be angry. I am angry. I have every right to be, but he's your father, even if he turned out to be a total bastard in the end. I was worried about telling you. I'm worried about what I'm going to do. I'm fifty years young. I mean, I'm not dead. But... it just seems a little late to reinvent myself, I guess.

Alexis smiled widely, Marie I think we can get you back on the market. you still have it We just have to get you out of there and show it all! She pointed to Marie's body.

Tom could tell it made his mother smile when she saw this attractive woman complimenting her.

I don't think I'm quite there yet. I figured a bit of R&R would do for now and a long overdue visit to my son.

How long did you want to stay? He asked. We would appreciate if you would stay as long as necessary.

How does a month sound? Until everything is settled?

A month didn't sound good at all to Tom. He wanted to be accommodating. He would love her to stay that long, if not longer. However, his home had become a complicated place. There's no way he'd make it with her snooping around and asking questions.

I think that sounds great mom. It wasn't a lie. He would just need to take some time to think things through.

Tom excused himself to use the restroom, leaving Alexis and Marie alone. Marie tucked her phone back into her purse, and Alexis noticed the cover of the paperback novel hidden among her belongings.

Reading on the plane? asked Alexis.

Oh yes, I picked this up at the airport. I needed a little something to distract myself. I couldn't put it down. A real page turner. Have you read it?

That must have seemed like a silly question to Alexis. Of course she had read it. It was Tom's third book. She had spent hours posing naked on her hands and knees in front of his desk while he wrote. He had whipped her in times of writer's block. He had cum on her face while she remained statuesque because the image of his cum dripping down her full lips seemed to inspire him. This book was an ode to her. It was special. She appreciated it. He had a hardback copy signed just for her prior to publication. Most importantly, however, was the very first page, which simply said To A - my inspiration.

Naturally. She said, It's excellent, don't you think?

Well, between us girls, that really gets the lady bits tingling. How on earth does a book end up on the New York Times bestseller list when it's basically glorified porn? I mean, the story is compelling, but it's so explicit.

It occurred to Alexis at that moment that Marie had no idea that she was reading one of her son's novels. Alexis knew an incredible amount about Tom, but not that much about his family. Tom seemed to have a reason for everything he did, so she just played along. It wasn't her place to say anything without permission.

Yes. she giggled. Deliciously graphic. Have you read any of his other novels?

Not yet, but I have a feeling I'll read them soon. My sister drew my attention to this author. She said these books would get her through a lot of lonely nights, if you know what I mean. Now let's talk about you two, Alexis. Dish.

Alexis couldn't help but squirm at the absolute gall of thinking of a mother aroused by her own son's twisted thoughts. By the way, Tom's own aunt had been jerking off while reading his books. Alexis had a very dark place inside that wetted with these revelations. Years ago she would have been ashamed of such feelings, but this girl was long gone.

Food what? Alexis answered knowingly.

You. My son. What's the matter with you two? Come on, tell me about my little boy's life.

Alexis laughed openly. Marie, these are questions you should ask your son. If you ask me if I love him, then yes. The answer is yes. Tom is an amazing man. Complicated but amazing.

Marie had never thought of her son as complicated, and she wondered what the blonde knew about him that made her think that way. She brushed off curiosity and pressed on, So he's screwing this up? He'd better take off his blinders and see what a beautiful wife he's got here. She leaned forward and whispered, "Not every woman is willing to dress up like that for her husband.

Alexis laughed again. I can see where he gets some of his sharp wit and charm. Marie, your son is one of the most intelligent and truly special men I have ever met. Don't make assumptions about him. I'm sure you know he has the ability to surprise people frequently. I've never met anyone who knows how to treat a woman like he does. Now stop trying to get me into trouble!

Marie couldn't have been more relieved to be three thousand miles from her troubles. She thoroughly enjoyed seeing her son for the first time since he flew to her house a year ago. There was just something that seemed slightly off. There was clearly a side of his life that he kept hidden from her. It saddened her to think that he didn't share everything. She had been drinking a bit and had been very emotional for the past few days. She was sure she was just fragile and overreacting.

Tom strolled back in freshly relieved. He took his remote control and turned off the music. He took his mother's hand and guided her to her tipsy feet and began a tour of the house. She had been in the spacious living room. She had noticed the bamboo hardwood, the oversized pots with tall, flowing tiger palms. The walls were adorned with tasteful art. The sofas and chairs are a nice cream color. The furniture is made of fine, dark wood. On the opposite wall was a large fireplace with a beautiful stone chimney. Marie noticed the images that covered the different surfaces. Her son, whom she thought of often, had a far more exciting life than he had ever admitted. She noticed pictures of him at fancy parties with lots of friends. In his photos, he seemed confident and confident. She admired his disarming smile.

Tom led them through the large dining room. He indicated the fracture front with a series of crystals and silver. The inlaid dining table was adorned with crystal candle holders and a large fruit bowl with impeccably arranged produce. The floor is covered with an antique Persian carpet.

From there he led her into the kitchen, showing her the powder room on the way. Marie stopped to relieve herself before continuing. The kitchen itself was warm and well used but every element was of the highest quality. Stainless steel appliances balanced the granite surfaces. He told her to help herself to whatever was in the fridge that Alexis kept well stocked. He effortlessly went through each room adding information about where he bought this or who gave it to him.

Marie admired his movements. he was a man His features looked smarter, his person so mature. Marie had spent so much time in upstate New York and worried that he would struggle through an artist career. In reality, he lived an enchanted life built on his own abilities. She envied him. She envied the stunning woman on his arm. She watched as Alexis followed him so gracefully and so attentively. Marie thought this woman was lucky, not only because she loved her son, but because her son would have whatever he wanted in this life. The more she watched him, the more she felt that it was preordained in his movements and in his modesty and in his taste.

Tom led them through the double doors into the backyard. Marie's eyes widened at the quiet solitude. She was standing on a flagstone raised patio with a small wrought iron breakfast table and a comfortable seating area. He sat her on the gravel path that stretched in both directions; one led to the guest house where he worked and the other extended to a beautiful pool and spa. There was a natural looking rock waterfall feeding the pool with filtered water. The yard was full of palm trees and ferns and birds of paradise. Tall, thick bamboo shoots formed a natural cover around the edges of the property and offered privacy. Tom had planted some mature Plumeria trees in the garden and their yellow and white flowers danced in amazing color on the green lawn.

Marie went to the edge of the pool and dipped her toe in the cool water. The August sun rose quickly over us. It was already warm outside and soon it would be hot. Marie looked to the side of the pool and saw a separate dining area with a large built in stone counter with stainless steel grills. The intricacy and detail of everything was so alien to her. This was a far cry from the life she'd led and a far cry from the way he'd grown up.

Tom, it's absolutely beautiful. she whispered in awe. I just don't understand how you can afford all that.

Tom smiled widely. Didn't I always say not to worry? Didn't I always say I was fine?

It's not 'do well', it's 'do exceptionally well'. All of that comes from writing? She asked.

Yes.

And the guest house is just as stunning as the rest of this place?

"This is my office. I prefer that nobody bothers me there.

Oh. She answered. Not even Alexis goes in there?

Mom, Alexis can go wherever she wants. Now let's go back inside and take your bags to your room. If you want, you can take a bath and relax.

Alexis beamed with happiness. She had never heard Tom speak of her so appreciatively. She had always known that he loved her and that he cared about her, but she wasn't used to him putting it so effortlessly. He had once asked her six months into their relationship if she minded him coaching other women. She knew where he was going with this and stopped him before he could finish. She had been his first. That meant enough to her, and she didn't want to deprive him of the excitement that came with the other women in his life. She thought being monogamous was an insult to his nature. She didn't want that. She liked that version of him; she preferred it.

Sir, she said quietly. I have an appointment at the spa this afternoon. Would it be okay if I invited Marie to my place?

Oh, that would be nice, Alexis! I would love that. Marie chirped.

That sounds good. Maybe I'll manage to get some work done today after all. Tom answered.

With that, Tom led his mother into a guest room on the second floor. She noted that the interior design has also been carried up. Tom opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered his mother into a beautiful room. In the center of the room was a beautiful four-poster bed with sheer curtains that hung elegantly. The bed was neatly made up with white linens. He opened a large walk-in closet and put her bags inside.

Here, mom. You should have everything you need. You can put your things in the closet. You have your own bathroom through that door and the French doors over there lead to a terrace. Oh, there's a remote control on the bedside table. It's pretty self explanatory. She controls the ceiling fan, TV, stereo and lights. He walked over and kissed his mother on the cheek and gave her another comforting hug. I'm sorry for everything. I don't want you to worry about anything while you're here. you are my guest I love you. With that, Tom turned to leave.

Tom? His mother gagged when he got to the door. Her voice was cracking again and he could tell she was trying to contain her emotions. He turned to her. I... I... just thank you. It was so sincere. He smiled and then slowly closed the door behind him to give her some privacy.

******

Tom quickly made his way to the master bedroom down the hall. Now that he was alone, he felt a surge of anger toward his father. His mind raced to figure out the complications that would inevitably unfold over the next month. He entered the bedroom and closed the door. Alexis knelt naked in the doorway, head down and hands on knees. He hadn't even managed to get a word out before she spoke.

Sir, I'm sure I must have done something wrong this morning. I sincerely apologize if I have offended you or your mother. She was very pointed in her choice of words and enunciation. Sir, this girl is ready for your punishment.

Tom smiled crookedly. His heart swelled for this woman. She had donned her thickly padded bondage collar and placed a narrow, hard, braided leather crop across her knees.

He reached out and put his index finger under her chin and lifted her head until she met his gaze. Her big blue doe eyes looked at him admiringly.

Why this one, Alexis? he asked curiously, referring to the harvest.

Sir, I dangled my big tits in your mother's face and embarrassed you. My selfish presence meant you had to lie to her about how important I was to you. Sir, it will be very difficult for you to meet your obligations while she is here and the marks of this harvest will remind me to keep going.

Tom bent down and picked up the harvest in his hands. Alexis immediately slid forward and pressed her breasts to the floor. She spread her knees slightly and pulled her stomach down, lifting her ass high in the air. Her arms were bent at the elbows at 90 degree angles so that her forearms were facing straight in front of her, palms down.

******

Marie felt a huge weight drop from her shoulders. She was glad she had listened to her sister about wanting to leave town. She felt better after explaining her upcoming divorce to her son. For days she had worried about it. She was sure her little boy would be rocked by the revelation. All her worries were gone now. She realized that she didn't have a little boy anymore. Marie needed a strong man in her life right now. She needed a man who loved her unconditionally. She always assumed that her husband was that guiding force, but today she realized that her own son was a more confident and compassionate man than her husband could ever be.

She opened the door to the private bathroom. She took in the sight of the Spanish tile floor. A long granite counter ran the length of the opposite wall with double sinks and framed makeup mirrors. To her right was an oversized whirlpool partially set into the floor. The tiled edges of the tub were filled with fragrant floral candles and manicured orchids and lilies. On the left was the toilet with its own door for extra privacy. An impressive seamless glass shower adjoins the toilet.

Marie just couldn't believe it. The past two weeks had been a roller coaster of revelations and intense emotions. She lost her husband and best friend. Now she discovered that she didn't even know her own son. His life seemed unreal. She was a simple Northeast girl raising a good boy. How could she know so little about him? She turned on the faucet on the tub and stopped the drain, which filled it with hot water.

She looked for a towel and washcloth and found nothing. She padded down the hall to the master bedroom. Before she could raise her hand to knock, she heard voices on the other side. Marie had always been a curious woman when it came to her surroundings. She couldn't help herself most of the time. She liked to be kept up to date, and if she thought a little listening could yield some stimulating gossip, she would certainly try.

She heard Alexis talking to her son. It was a bit muffled, so she pressed her ear to the door. She thought she heard a reference to big tits dangling and something about his commitments. Marie assumed she was apologizing for her rather indecent performance earlier. That made sense, but still, something about this relationship seemed odd. However, the woman was stunning. She had never been one to admire other women, but even Marie had to admit that Alexis had an amazing body. She thought about walking around the house in lingerie. The thought of walking around so confidently while being so exposed was exciting to her. She didn't know why, but Alexis turned her on. She was turned on by her beauty, but also by her effortless ability to take care of her man. 'Her husband' she thought, shouldn't she say her son? But he was a man.

The voices on the other side of the door fell silent and Marie got ready to search for the towels on her own. It was better not to disturb her as she was already feeling like a nuisance. She was startled by a loud bang and carefully put her ear back to the door. blow. blow. blow. blow. blow. She held her breath and stopped herself from making a sound. It sounded like Tom was whipping her. Marie shuddered at the thought. She wondered what exactly was going on between them.

******

Tom stepped back after the last punch. The stripes on her butt slowly darkened. He hadn't hit her too hard, but she had chosen his most painful crop. Alexis stayed absolutely still and waited until she was given permission to move. Tom took a moment to admire them. He loved watching her in a submissive pose. She looked incredibly natural and beautiful as she presented herself to him. He watched the lines darken into a bright blue smudge. He was satisfied. The bruises were light and would disappear by the next morning. Tom hadn't wanted to punish her. She hadn't done anything wrong in his eyes. She was a victim of bad timing. He knew, in part, that she had presented the crop because she needed punishment. She felt alive and more submissive when she was being punished, and Tom always knew exactly how far to push her with the power of each punch.

He stepped back and began removing his clothes. He sat spread-legged on the edge of the bed.

Bring me your mouth. He requested.

Yes indeed.

Alexis pulled himself off the floor and crawled between his legs. She stopped and stared at his cock twitching in front of her. She smiled.

He saw the look on her face. It wasn't like her to pause before putting it in her mouth.

What is it? He asked. Tell me.

I... I was just thinking about the first time I knelt before you, sir. The first time I saw your cock. Sir, I don't think I've ever spoken to you about that day. The first time I saw him That cock I knew I could never be happy without. It's amazing sir. It's just so big and thick and how it twitches when it's hard and how complete it makes me feel when you're inside me. I just want it. say thank you sir All girls thank you. You have all told me privately that you satisfy them in ways they have never experienced before. She looked at him with watery eyes. Sir, the things you said to your mother today... the things about me... you don't have to treat me any differently than the other girls... I..."

Shh. He stopped her for a moment and cupped her cheek in his hand while wiping away the tears that were forming in her eyes. You are different from the other girls, Alexis. The things I said about you were all true. I've never said it to you out loud. I never thought I would have to do this. You are the most important person in my life.

The tears overwhelmed her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She put a hand on each of his knees as she knelt in front of him. They were tears of joy and happiness. She did not say anything. He knew how she felt about him. She never had to say it. She said it with every action, every breath and every movement. Her life was about showing him how much she cared for him.

Alexis tilted her head towards his cock. She opened her mouth wide and pushed it all the way back down her throat. She gurgled as she forced the last few inches into her airway, then slowly backed away, lips tightened, until it popped out of her mouth. It had taken her months to control her reflexes and take him all the way. she loved it. She began to lick his shaft up and down, holding the heavy length of it in her hand.

Oh yeah. He moaned as she pleasured him. And the eggs, Alexis. You know how I enjoy that.

Yes indeed.

Alexis tried harder than ever to thank him for saying those words to her. She sucked him off like a real slut - wanking, stroking, sucking, licking - until she knew he was ready to explode.

Where would Sir like to deposit his sperm?

Tom didn't answer. He stood up and aimed his cock at her breasts and exploded. His load was big and thick, covering her thoroughly. She knelt perfectly, still enjoying the feel of the hot liquid hitting her flushed skin.

When he was done, he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Let that dry. If you go to the spa, be sure to tell Abby I left it there just for her and to clean you up.

Yes indeed. She answered with a big grin.

******

Marie rushed back to her room as fast as she could. She closed the door and leaned back against it, breathing heavily. Her world spiraled out of control. She hurried into the bathroom and turned off the water just before it reached the top of the tub. There was a stack of fresh towels on a chair in the corner of the room. How had she missed that? She wished she had seen her there earlier and hadn't gone down to her son's room. She wished she hadn't overheard them both. Or did she? She was so confused.

She felt the water and thought a good bath would calm her nerves. She began to undress and put her clothes on the counter. She checked herself in the full-length