She never should have hesitated. He took a step forward, shutting the door. Ashley’s heart pounded as the lock clicked into place.
Greg’s voice was low as he moved closer to her. “Do you have any idea how selfish you’ve been tonight, Ash? You don’t even know what you want, do you?”
She screwed her eyes shut, closing them so tightly that she saw flashes of brilliant lights against the darkness. Shaking her head, she took a step backwards. It was his laughter ringing through the room this time, her nervousness oozing between them. He’d taken the control and she had no idea how to get it back.
“Your problem is that you’re an amateur; a little girl playing dress up in mommy’s high heels. You know what happens to naughty little girls when they get caught?” He was touching her now, his fingers dancing over her skin, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
“What?” she wasn’t sure she’d said it out loud, thought maybe it was just in her head, but his expression changed, turned predatory.
“They get punished,” he whispered, his face inches from hers, his hands slowly lifting off her shirt. She was frozen, a doe waiting for her slaughter, caught in the cross-hairs of the hunter’s scope. His fingers were rough from years of physical labor, scarred and thick, crushing her breasts, pinching the treacherous nipples cruelly. He smiled when they responded to the treatment.
“You like that, huh? Maybe you aren’t such a tease after all. Maybe you’ve just been testing your limits, pushing. Maybe you’ve been looking for a man strong enough to rein you in.” His mouth was hot on her skin as he lapped at her breasts. He stood back and shoved her skirt into a pool around her feet. He knelt in front of her and she felt her knees go weak as he pushed her legs apart, his fingers sliding along the silk of her panties.
“Look at that,” he murmured into her stomach. “Wet as Niagara Falls, ready for me to fuck. At least you got that part right.”
Tugging her panties down, he slipped a finger inside her, his thumb finding her clit. There was no gentle caress, no tender touch, only white hot desire as he began to thrust and rub and pinch.
She didn’t resist him, didn’t fight because she couldn’t. Some part of her had snapped, broken at his words. She drifted through the hole, lost in a dark place inside her head, needing, wanting, afraid. He worked his fingers faster and faster, matching pace with the need building inside her until she began to move her hips, hoping to draw him in deeper. The sensations were building, sending her toward release. Her hands slid into his hair, curling into fists as she held onto him. When he leaned forward and his wet tongue slid against her clit, it pushed her over the edge. She cried out as her orgasm ripped through her.
Greg remained in place until her breathing returned to normal, but she felt a sense of loss when he pulled his away, the heat removed, the need still there. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she finally opened her eyes, it was in time to see him toss her clothes at her.
“Get dressed and get out.”
He sat back down on the bed, drinking his beer as he watched her. He lit a cigarette, so calm. She was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion, unable to go back through the crack in her life he’d just opened. She knew then what had to happen; what she had to do. She accepted that her actions were her own as she gave control of her destiny to the side of herself she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She knelt before him, looking up at him from between his knees.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please, what?”
“Please, Greg…”
He nodded and pulled her onto his lap.
More Masculine Men by Whiskey McNaughton
Summer Barton walked down the street with her best friend, Gwen Daniels. The two were in serious discussion as they walked into an antique shop Summer liked buying knickknacks from.
“I’m serious, Gwen,” Summer said, her eyes large and round to prove her point. “Men these days just don’t know how to love a woman the way she wants and needs to be loved. Men are too feminine today.”
“Isn’t that what we women have been trying to do?” Gwen asked in return, “Make men more in tune with their feminine side so they know how to please us better?”
“I’m all for a man who understands the female mystique.” Summer picked up a curious looking crystal item about the size of a large egg and turned it around in her hand. The light from inside the shop reflected off the orb in rainbow colors and caught Summer’s attention. “But once a man understands me, I want him to exert his own masculinity in making love to me, not acting like another woman so I feel like a lesbian.”
“I’m not sure you can have it both ways,” Gwen laughed lightly.
“Well, if I can’t, then I’d rather have a man who ravaged me with hot, horny, savage sex than a man who made me feel like I had another woman in bed with me.”
“What? You want a man to be brutal, bestial, more like some creature from a fantasy realm of ancient times?”
“That would be nice.” Summer smiled even as she brought the crystal orb closer so she could take a deeper look into it, try to figure out what was inside the antique artifact that seemed to move about as she looked into its depths. “A man to savage me and treat me like a sex object…Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
Suddenly the light from the orb in her hand flared up and Summer found her mind going numb, as though she were undergoing surgery and the anesthetic had just taken effect.
“Summer?” Gwen backed away from her friend as before her the physical form that had been Summer Barton seemed to shimmer and swirl in wisps of colored fog. Then Summer’s flickering body vanished altogether, and the air where she’d been standing seemed to pop.
“Summer!” Gwen screamed where her friend no longer stood.
Summer Barton felt woozy. She didn’t understand why she felt woozy, she just did. She knew she hadn’t been drinking. Hadn’t she been on her lunch break, walking around the city with Gwen? What happened to Gwen, anyway? Summer sat up to look around and realized she was lying on the ground with trees and bushes and nothing at all that made her even remotely think of being in the city where she lived.
“What the hell?” she mumbled as she sat up. She surveyed her surroundings and then looked at herself. She was still dressed in the mid-thigh skirt and matching jacket, both of light cream linen, and a light peach-colored blouse and matching heels. So why was she suddenly in an area of the woods instead of the city?
A rustling of the bushes about her caught her attention and she quickly stood to her feet. From out of the bushes erupted two large, burly men, their upper bodies naked other than for the crop of thick hair that grew all over them and their lower bodies. Summer backed quickly away from the men — or whatever they were — as she realized they were equally naked all over their bodies, but below their navels their bodies were covered in dark brown fur and their legs weren’t shaped quite like normal men and their feet…Summer gulped as the “men” moved slowly toward her, their hands outstretched to touch her. Their feet were actually cloven hooves, like what you would expect to find on goats.
“Wasthis?” one of the male creature-things spoke in a rush of sound and Summer couldn’t quite understand what was being said.
“Beatsthehellouttame,” the other male-thing shrugged his shoulders. They both moved right up to Summer, who was backed against a tree large enough to prevent her from going easily around it and escaping these two before they reached her.
The first one grabbed hold of her jacket and pulled it out to the side. His eyes grew wide as though he had never seen clothing before.
“It’s loose skin,” the male-thing said. Summer heard the words run together, but she was at least recognizing them as words now and could almost understand what was being said.