Dirty Seduction

ROSIE

JULIAN didn’t wake me before he left, and i slept right through my alarm.

I stumbled around his apartment, gathering my stuff for college in a frenzy, until it dawned on me.

Why was it so important I dashed away like a good girl to get to my lessons?

I hadn’t had a sick day in years. Not just from work, but from college too. Surely I could be a rebel for once in my life? Well, once more since I was the ultimate rebel already, being in the apartment of the man upstairs.

There was a note on the coffee table. Julian had beautiful handwriting, almost calligraphic, on lovely thick lined paper.

I didn’t want to disturb Sleeping Beauty. Stay as long as you want, sweetheart.

His words made me smile. I hoped he meant it. My apartment downstairs felt distant. My own bedroom felt like a nasty tomb after Scottie pinned me down that night. I didn’t ever want to sleep in there again.

There was a message on my phone from Mum. A three-word question.

Are you ok?

I was on top of the world, but I couldn’t tell her that. I’d never be able to face her off and tell her I was in crazy besotted love with the man upstairs. I typed out a simple answer, with another flash of rebellion at a little white lie.

I’m good, thanks. Stayed with Jenny. It was great.

I didn’t know who Jenny was, but she could be a good alibi.

I got myself an orange juice and a bowl of muesli with cut up berries. I was cosy in one of Julian’s shirts as I sat cross legged on his sofa and flicked on his TV. There was nothing I wanted to watch on there, but I didn’t care, I just liked the sensation of being in his space.

I hugged one of his gold brocade cushions when I was done with my breakfast, lounging around against the leather chesterfield, my pussy still sore from Julian’s cock. The flutters right through me said it all. I was absolutely consumed by the man who took my virginity last night. I was already so caught up in him I was losing my mind.

Julian Lockley. Forty-eight years old. An ex-university professor, with a wife called Katreya, two grown up kids, and a kink for big age gaps and filth.

The need to know more tickled at me…

It was only a matter of time before I dug into details online. I couldn’t help myself. I called up social media and typed in his name, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I did a more generic online search and a Companies House directory listing came up. Resurgence Therapy. The address was registered in Oxford, and he was named as joint director with Katreya. There were news articles, too. My heart was in my stomach as I clicked on a therapy awards article. Resurgence had won the National Commission Counselling award last year, and the ceremony was in London. I scrolled through the article and the pictures, stopping with a hitch of breath when I saw him there, his arm around a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair.

Julian and Katreya.

His wife was stunning. Tall and sleek, in a deep green satin dress, and as for Julian, words couldn’t do him justice. His suit was tailored perfectly and he was standing tall and proud, with a lovey bright smile. His hair was slicked back. Professional.

Gorgeous.

That should have been enough online stalking, but now the trapdoor was open, I couldn’t stop myself jumping in.

I went back to social media and typed in the fatal words Katreya Lockley. I could hardly look as the listings came up. She was right there at the top. It was definitely her on the profile pic, her hair blowing in the wind with a beach in the background. Her profile was public, not private.

Her latest post was a picture of her with a younger, dark-haired woman with a baby on her lap. I knew without reading that the woman next to her was Grace, her daughter. She had Julian’s eyes.

Katreya’s profile picture had been the same for almost six months exactly. I scrolled back and found a photo of her and Julian, sitting in a garden together with Grace’s baby girl on her lap. Our beautiful little Emily, the caption said, and there were so many comments, from so many friends and family with hearts and smiles. There amongst them was Grace, and a few comments down was Ryan. Should I click on them? Really?

Damn it, of course I did.

I scrolled through every picture and post I could find, seeing Julian in a hundred different places with members of his family. Old pictures of him and Katreya, when Grace and Ryan were just kids. I saw Julian at social gatherings, on family holidays, at Emily’s birthday parties. His house was incredible, and his lifestyle was glorious. Even their sweet Labrador, Barney, was beautiful. There were more award ceremonies involving tuxedos, and group pics with employees of their therapy business. It made me sick to the stomach at the contrast between his life then and now.

How could I ever compare? I was just a gawky young girl from a shitty background, with a stash of cash only just big enough to help with Mum’s overdue bills.

I should have quit stalking there, but I didn’t. I focused on Grace’s profile next, taking a breath before I called up her friends list. So many pretty girls with stunning hair and amazing makeup, grins and poses and perfect pouts.

I knew who I was looking for. It took quite a lot of scrolling until I found her, but she was very recognisable, even in a tight tee and jeans. Maisie Halterton. The girl in the pictures in Julian’s wardrobe. She was engaged now, to a hot young guy in a polo shirt, with a sparkling diamond ring on her finger. Yours forever the caption on their proposal pictures said, and I felt a stupid wave of relief.

It was weird seeing her in a more normal context, without her pussy spread with a huge dildo, and slut scrawled across her tits.

I couldn’t help but wonder how many other people on Grace’s friends list Julian might have had sex with. How many others had been desperate for him, offering themselves up for dildos and marker pen? What else had he done with them? What were the limits of his filth?

The very thought gave me a nervous thrill, but one thing I did know was that I would do all of it. Everything and anything he wanted me to. I wanted to see him at his limits, no matter how dark, how filthy, how extreme. There was nothing I didn’t want from him. He had stormed into my soul and taken hold. The rabbit hole could swirl into the utter pits of perversion, but I wouldn’t care. All I’d want was him.

I’d never known a feeling like this before. I had no idea how it felt to be as insane about someone as I was about my filthy saviour.

I needed to let him know that before he filed me away as a sweet little angel for ever. I didn’t want my freshly claimed virgin state to put him off, thinking I was too pure, because it could do. It would do. I was nothing like Maisie and the girls I was looking at online. I was a whole world away. So, I’d have to show him.

I felt like a thief as I delved into the box in his wardrobe. But I also felt empowered as I stared at Masie. And emboldened as I handled the dildos. Could I do this? Could I show him, for real and not look like a dumbass? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I had to try.

HE STEPPED THROUGH THE DOOR WITH A CHEERFUL HELLO, ARE YOU STILL here, sweetheart, after work, but his tone was lighter. He probably had a whole speech of I shouldn’t have done that to you, ready to present to me.

Now or never…

I tried to keep my breaths steady as I sat there on the sofa, awaiting his gaze. He appeared in the doorway, and it shocked him enough that he did a double take, mouth open as he looked me up and down.

I had his shirt open, my tits on display, and I was hitched up just right to show my freshly deflowered pussy. Beside me on the coffee table, ready to go, were the toys from his wardrobe, along with the rope twine, and the set of marker pens.

I tried to look as slutty as possible as he stared at me, praying with everything I had that I wouldn’t be shot down in flames.

“We shouldn’t…” he tried, but I didn’t want to listen to him. I shook my head, and summoned every scrap of my confidence, and I spread my pussy lips for him, showing him how wet I was.

“I want to be the girl in the photos,” I said. “I want to be her. I want you to show me everything. Every single thing that turns you on, and then we’ll see, won’t we? We’ll see how much I like it.”

I was expecting a battle, but it didn’t come. He was staring at me with hungry eyes. That’s what they were. They were hungry. The way he swallowed and stared at my pussy on offer gave me a rush of pride.

“I don’t want you to be like Maisie,” he said.

“I want to be like Maisie,” I told him, but he laughed.

“No, no, Rosie. I want you to be you. You’re much more of a treasure than she ever was.”

His words warmed me, right the way through.

“Show me, then. Show me how much of a treasure I am. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

He shrugged off his jacket, and loosened his tie, casting it aside. He scoped out the toys I’d lined up, including the biggest dildo.

“I’m addicted to filthy sex with barely legal girls,” he said. “This isn’t a joke, Rosie.”

“I know. You’ve told me a million times.”

“That’s my warning,” he said. “Once I start, I can’t stop.”

“Good. I don’t want you to stop. Not ever.”

“I’m not sure you quite understand what that means.” He paused, took a breath. “I. Can’t. Stop. If you open the doors to my filth, there will only be one way out, and that will be you saying no and getting out of my sight. I won’t be able to hold back from pushing your limits. I won’t be able to control my urges.”

He looked again at the toys on the table. I felt the battle he was having with his senses.

“Up until now you’ve been an angel,” he said, “but my urges sink into the realms of perversion. If you go there with me, there will be no going back.”

My pulse was racing on overdrive, because he was on the edge. I could see it. I could feel it. One little nudge was all it would take.

I picked up the smallest dildo. I fixed my eyes on his as I ran the head of it up and down my pussy, trying to be as confident as Maisie.

“Do it to me,” I said, using my other hand to tug on a nipple. “I want it, Julian. I want it all. I want to be a good little slut for you.”

I pushed the head of the dildo into me and let go of it, tugging on both nipples now.

He was shaking his head.

“You seem so sure.”

“Because I am.”

I took hold of the dildo and pushed it all the way in.

“You don’t realise what you’re asking for, Rosie.”

I started working the dildo, tried to do a sexy moan. “I’m asking to be your slut,” I said. “Tie me up and write filth on my body and fuck me. Do whatever you want to me and I’ll take it all like a good girl.”

“Fuck,” he said.

“Fuck me,” I said, working the dildo faster.

“Stop,” he said and my hand froze.

“It’s more than just acting the slut, Rosie, it’s ”

“I don’t want to act, I want to become the best slut,” I said and he shook his head again.

“It would take a huge commitment.”

I shrugged. “I can commit, no problem.” He hesitated, staring at the dildo in my pussy.

I held it there, waited for the words.

“Quit your job,” he said.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“What?”

“If you really want to commit, you need to ring the pizza place and quit your job, because you won’t be leaving here for quite some time.”

His words took me aback.

“I’m already past the realms of restraint, Rosie. I’m beyond the satisfaction of a few hours of fucking with you, only to wave you off with a see you later. If you stir the pot of addiction, it will keep on spinning.” His eyes were so fierce. “Do it if you really want it. Show me how serious you are. Quit your job.”

I pulled the dildo free as the fears of sensibilities crept in from the sides of my mind. How could I afford He shook his head, pre-empting me.

“Don’t worry about the implications. I have more than enough money to share.”

Could I do this? Could I really?

“I’m deadly serious,” he went on. “If this is what you really want, then you need to quit your job and stay here with me. You needn’t worry about money. I’ll more than cover your wages and anything else you might need.” “Quit my job,” I said out loud. It sounded so weird.

“Yes,” he said. “It really is that simple, if being my slut is what you really want. Have a think about it. I’ll go make us a coffee.”

“Wait,” I said as he made to walk away.

I didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t need to think about it.

My phone was buried behind one of the cushions. My fingers were trembling as I called up the pizza house number, and this time when Marcus answered, I didn’t fake a cough. I was looking at Julian as I said the words.

“I quit, sorry,” I said, on autopilot. “Something has come up.”

I hung up before Marcus could quiz or argue, tossing my phone to the side as I stared at Julian, staring at me.

I closed my eyes as he took position on the sofa. My nipples were hard and my skin had goosebumps, the dildo still on the seat between my thighs.

My eyes were still closed when I felt the heat of him as he leant in, and then came his tongue, lapping from my tits all the way up my throat. His face was in mine as he picked up the dildo.

“Let’s make you a filthy little angel, then,” he said. “The rabbit hole starts here.”