Page 51 of Endless Obsession

It takes me seconds to come to the fantasy of my masked man hovering over me, holding me down on the bed by my throat as he pushes the vibrator against my clit, edging me with it until I’m pleading for him to let me come, begging for release, and then?—

The orgasm crashes over me, wracking my body with several seconds of white-hot pleasure as my back arches, a ragged moan escaping me as I come hard. I’m panting by the time it ebbs, sinking down into the mattress as the afterglow wraps itself around me like a thick fog, and I close my eyes as I toss the toy aside. It felt so good, but I want more.

It’s dark outside when I wake up from my orgasm-induced nap. I clean my toy and put it away, changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt as I go to make myself something for dinner. I settle for heating up leftover Thai noodles, eating them cross-legged in front of the TV as I watch a rerun of a house renovation show on HGTV. But as I watch a moderately handsome man and his pretty blonde wife slam hammers through drywall, my mind keeps drifting back to that website, and Venom.

I can’t resist the urge to log back on again. Not just to talk to anyone, but to talk to him. I feel a little guilty about it, knowing that I just had a wonderful date with Ivan, with another one planned this weekend—but isn’t that why I’m doing this? Why I told him that I don’t want anything exclusive, so that I can experience for once in my life what it’s like to do what men do? To not dive in head-first and close myself off to all the other options?

The urge doesn’t leave as I finish my dinner and clean up. I pour myself a glass of wine, tapping my nails against the glass as I try to talk myself out of it, but I find myself walking down the hall to my room anyway, my mind already ten steps ahead.

Getting myself off to thoughts of him this afternoon didn’t make me want it less. It only made the need to experience more of this feel even more intense. More demanding.

I log on, scrolling through some of the videos, checking every few minutes to see if Venom is online. Watching the clips of women getting fucked in bondage by men with their faces covered, running through mazes until they reach a room where a man is waiting for them, getting fucked in a roomful of mirrors with a different man on each end—all of it turns me on, making me feel warm and shivery at the same time, but none of it quite gets me there, to the point where I feel like I can’t do anything other than touch myself, like I felt when I chatted with Venom last. I don’t feel that aching, desperate need to come.

I’m about to give up and log off when I see his name pop up suddenly, and for a brief second, it feels like my heart stops in my chest.

Venom69xxx: The pretty dove came out to play tonight. You know what a snake does to a pretty little bird?

My heart comes back to life, stuttering in my chest as I suck in a breath, quickly typing out a response.

CuriousDove24: Why don’t you tell me?

I know it’s not the most daring response, but I don’t think that matters. What matters is that it feels daring to me. I feel breathless, excited, flirting with this man who is so much more than a stranger, separated from me by walls of data and an anonymity that I won’t ever be able to breach.

A moment passes, and another, until I wonder if he’s going to respond at all. And then a message pops up, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

Venom69xxx: He eats her.

16

IVAN

Even before Charlotte became an obsession for me, I’ve never gone to Masquerade twice in one weekend. But the guys had such a good time that they want to go again Sunday night, and rather than deal with their questions as to why I don’t want to leverage my membership and get to fuck one of the myriads of hot women there who could fulfill my every kinky fantasy, I go along.

This time, I don’t get a room to myself, even after I’ve watched the festivities on the open floor. I sip my vodka and watch, getting gradually more and more turned on by what amounts to live, public pornography, the sounds and smells of sex drenching my senses as the night wears on. I sit there, my cock aching, and my thoughts keep drifting back to Charlotte.

I don’t want to get myself off here tonight while I think about her. I want to do it while she tells me all the things she wants me to do to her, while she doesn’t even know that it’s me.

As I finish my third drink, I motion to the bartender so that I can pay my tab, too eager to stay at the club any longer. I want her, not the noise and fog of sex all around me. And I can’t wait even a moment longer to have at least some part of her.

In the neon glow of the screens in my basement, I strip out of my suit, tossing it over a stack of boxes as I pull on a pair of sweatpants, shoving my still half-hard cock down. I’m fully erect just from the anticipation of chatting with her by the time I’ve logged on, and when I see her username in bold, telling me that she’s logged on, I don’t have the patience to play coy.

Venom69xxx: The pretty dove came out to play tonight. You know what a snake does to a pretty little bird?

Her response comes almost immediately, faster than I thought it would. Almost as if she were waiting for me.

CuriousDove24: Why don’t you tell me?

In an instant, I’m so hard that I can’t stand it any longer. I push my sweatpants down around my hips, freeing my cock and giving myself a couple of quick, hard strokes before I respond to her. I’m already slick with pre-cum, and I can feel the veins throbbing against my palm. If I don’t control myself, this will be over faster than I want it to be.

Venom69xxx: He eats her.

Just like that, the memory of her in Masquerade comes flooding back, the sweet taste of her on my tongue, the way she moaned and mewled as I licked her, the way she came all over my face as if she’d never been properly eaten out before. I’d be willing to bet that she never had.

I want to taste her again. I want to fuck her. I want her to scream my name. My name.

I’m getting off both on the fact that she has no idea that all of the men filling her fantasies right now are the same one, and I desperately want her to know that it’s me, all at once. It’s a dichotomy that’s fueling my lust to an almost unbearable degree.

My hand wraps around my cock again as I wait for her to respond, stroking in long, slow passes of my palm over my throbbing length. I sink my teeth into my lip as I groan, letting my head fall back against the chair as my hips lift up, fucking my fist for a moment until I can’t take it any longer, and I have to pull my hand away before I come. My balls tighten, that heat licking at the base of my spine, but I refocus on the screen, tearing myself away from that pleasure that’s so close to overcoming me.

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