Page 5 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

But this woman... My gaze finds her lips, still dripping with my cum and I feel this intense, dominant desire that has never been this strong before. I pull my underwear up, even if my dick still feels disgustingly wet, and follow by zipping up my pants and restraining myself again.

Temporarily. The woman keeps kneeling and waiting in silence. Her knees must be completely bruised.

"Acceptable," I say to her, struggling to keep any part of me restrained the more I look at her. "I'm going to get a drink. Stand three feet to the left of my coffee table and wait for me. I want to see youstrip."

She keeps her gaze averted as she stands. Obedient. Many of the others played at the idea of obedience and submission, but few of them could actually achieve the discipline necessary not to give in to temptation.

"Go," I command her firmly. "When I get back, you can have a good look."

She waits for me to leave before she walks to the living room. My condo is open concept, so it's not hard to find, but where she stands doesn't face the kitchen, so she won’t get a good look at me until I return.

Tonight, I just want more whiskey. I'll need more whiskey if I actually want to go through with this. It was my choice to turn on the lights, but it wasn't what I planned. It doesn't help me to expose any part of myself to this woman. I have no interest in any relationship that goes deeper than this. I pour myself double the liquor than I normally do.

I can't help it. I can't envision any other way of getting through this. It's not just exposing myself to her that's the problem.

It's her...

Where the fuckdid Oske even find a black woman in the middle of nowhere? Her lips were...

I can't tell if the situation with her lips is because of her race, but I’ve never had head like that in my entire life. I drink about a shot's worth of whiskey before heading out to my living room. She points her eyes at her toes, but her body grows visibly tense once she hears me enter the room.

I unbutton the top two buttons on my shirt and sit with my whiskey. I give her no instructions for a full two minutes, continuing to test her obedience. Her tits are unrealisticallylarge, but I can tell from the way that they hang down her chest that they're all natural.

I only fuck women that are all natural -- even if I have a type. That's the most important thing to me. Natural hair, natural ass, natural lips, natural tits. Once I sit, my dick stiffens immediately. I'm comfortable. I can taste whiskey on my lips. My dick needs to get soaking wet again.

Soon.

"Look at me."

She looks up quickly, which means she was definitely holding back. She wants to see me. My stomach feels weird and knotted. Control. I need to take back control before all these bizarre emotional responses cause me to do something even dumber than turning on the lights. I sip from my whiskey as I let her look, rewarding her obedience.

"What's your name?"

She can't hide any of her emotions. I like it. I can instantly sense that she worries about giving me her name. I can't blame her. I walked through my front door and made her choke on my dick. From my perspective, this makes us a little closer than strangers.

"You can call me Rage," I offer first. Obviously, not my real name. But I would rather not reveal that my name is Deacon after roughly fucking her mouth.

She says her name. "Keyshawn."

Damn. That is a black ass name. But it's pretty. I want to play with the syllables.

"Keyshawn. Did your mistress tell you what to expect tonight?"

"Yes."

"Strip," I say to her once I work up the courage to stop staring at her body and look this woman right in the eye. "I want to see what I paid for tonight."

Again, the word tonight reminds me that I only agreed to one time. Most girls don't come back. None of them have ever even wanted to. Oske threatened to stop sending women to me... but she isn't immune to vice. Oske grew up dirt poor and like most folks who came up in her situation, she likes nice and shiny things. It makes it easy to convince her to wear her morals a little thin.

Keyshawn averts her gaze again. I'm grateful and take a sip of whiskey as I watch her undress. I have excellent taste in lingerie, but it feels like fate that this is the piece I chose for Keyshawn. It fits her body perfectly, lace contouring around her curves. She starts by removing the corset top with black satin fabric barely covering her nipples.

My dick jerks in my pants once she has her tits free. I don't think I ever saw a pair of dark brown tits exposed in front of me and my eyes snap open with surprise and utter fixation at how fucking different she is -- and how much I want more of her.

Chapter Four

Keyshawn

It feels good not to kneel, but this man staring at me removes that mild satisfaction so the only true emotional response I can muster is still fear. My throat hurts from the way he viciously fucked my mouth until he came. I can still taste him in the back of my throat. He came so much – I’ve never had so much warm, salty cum in my mouth before. I never even swallowed. I’m more than happy to keep my gaze averted, especially because looking at this man directly is even scarier than having him use my mouth for his pleasure with no regard for my humanity.

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