The Dungeon with an Ocean View

Mark considered the question before he replied, "That would be some seriously healthy self esteem."

She gave a sad smile, "That's why prostitutes in healthy relationships are so rare."

They drove in silence until Victoria said, "I can't believe that our first kiss was you kissing my yoni after I'd been fucked by all those guys!"

Marked laughed, "Yea, but kissing you on the mouth wouldn't have been much better!"

Victoria laughed, "I guess not. Thank you for being such a good sport." She had intended to promise to make it up to him, but she held that back for later.

Victoria drifted into her own thoughts as she drove. She thought of the many times her harlot sisters complained about the fragile male ego. They would say, "Sex is nothing more than manual labor," and "He should know I love him because I fuck him for free." There had to be a flaw in their logic. Did the plumber love her if he fixed the sink for free? No, he probably wanted to fuck her.

In the nine years she had been working she hadn't been able to maintain a relationship for more than a few months, and the issue was always the same. She wondered if Mark was different than the others. He'd seen a lot and he was still around, but she knew that everything would change once they had sex. She wanted to put that off for as long as possible.

Her parents were both over six feet tall. After a warm greeting they sat on well worn chairs in a small living room. Knickknacks and trinkets populated shelves and cubbyholes throughout the room. An upright piano decked in framed family pictures was squeezed into a corner.

"I can't remember the last time Vicki brought home a suitor," her mother said to her father.

"Oh, I'm just a friend," said Mark.

"Well, you must be good friend." Her mother gave a sweet smile.

"Are you a pimp? You don't look big enough to be a pimp to me."

"Daddy! You promised you would behave."

"He's in my house. I want to know if I can trust him."

"Dean! That is no way to treat a guest."

Mark tried to release the tension, "I'm a struggling writer. Victoria was kind enough to give me a place to sleep while I work and wait for something to sell."

"What do you write?" asked her mother.

"I write short stories. I'm working on a novel, but mostly I blog. You know, short articles for the internet."

"Our Vicki was going to be a writer, weren't you dear?"

Victoria politely smiled and nodded while her father scowled.

"It's hard. I probably would have died of pneumonia if Victoria hadn't helped me out."

"That's our Vicki, always helping people out."

Victoria and her mother got up to prepare dinner while Mark and Dean made small talk. Mark found that they could have a reasonably pleasant conversation as long as they didn't discuss Victoria.

At dinner Dean asked, "So, Mark. What do you think about Victoria's profession?"

Mark considered the question for a few moments then said, "When I was a just out of college my father wanted me to get a job. He wanted me to have a family, a house, a car - all the things that he had. As far as he was concerned the only way to do that was by having a job. Of course, I wanted to be a writer. We fought, and I called him names that I never should have said out loud. I stormed out of the house. A week or so later he was in an accident with a drunk driver and was killed. Those horrible names were the last words I said to him. I understand that you are disappointed in Victoria's profession, but be careful what you say."

After that the conversation was much more pleasant.

Just as they were starting dessert Victoria received a phone call. She excused herself and was away from the table for about a half hour.

"Is everything alright?"

"It was just an old friend that wanted to chat."

On the way home Victoria said, "Thanks for what you said to my father."

"No problem, he needs to let go."

"I'm sorry about you and your father."

"My father was an asshole. He was the drunk driver, and he killed a little girl."

"You should stick to fiction. Your nonfiction is too depressing."

After a long silence Victoria said, "I have a client coming over tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"No, of course not." Despite his hopes, Mark had no claim on Victoria. He fought back the urge to sulk and took the conversation in stride.

"I booked a room for you at the hotel. I'll pick you up tomorrow before noon."

"Whatever works for you."

After a few more moments of silence Victoria asked in a sarcastic baby voice, "Is your fragile male ego going to be able to handle this?"

The baby voice pissed him off, but Mark would be damned if he would let Victoria get his goat. "Don't worry about me; I can do what I need to do."

To Victoria that single sentence encapsulated Mark's essence. If only she could affect what he needed to do.

When they pulled up to the hotel Victoria handed Mark a hundred dollar bill and said, "The room has been prepaid. This is for anything else you might need."

The money must have been from the madman earlier in the week. It was stained in blood.

Victoria arrived at the hotel at 11:30 the next morning to pick Mark up. She asked the receptionist to call him. His battery must have been dead because he wasn't answering his cell.

"I'm sorry mam, but he never checked in."

Victoria verified that there had been no mistake, then drove to the library, the bluffs and the coffee shop to see if she could find him. She went home, hoping that they had crossed paths. His few personal effects were at the foot of his bed, but he was nowhere to be found.

She checked his blog and found that their adventures on the sailboat had been posted earlier that morning. The blog post made the experience sound more comical than it was. He had portrayed her as a big-titted bimbo that was more interested in consuming cock than making money. She was relieved that Mark was apparently alright, but she didn't like her fictional self very much.

The next day Mark's blog reported on the tryst with the madman. For a short post Mark had done an excellent job building up a foreboding atmosphere and transitioning to a violent climax. While she couldn't find any factual errors in what was written, she couldn't understand how she had let herself get in that situation. She seemed so stupid.

It was two days before the next blog post. It was a very short post that told of their conversation in the car, how Mark had hoped to finally have an evening alone with her and how his plans had been dashed. Mark was very matter-of-fact about the circumstances, but Victoria couldn't help but feel she had let him down.

The final post came three days later. Mark must have followed her home, because the blog described her rendezvous with her client form Mark's vantage on the deck.

The blog read:

I had hoped that V would choose me. I hoped that my perseverance and unflagging support would add up to something in her eyes; while it may have been something, it was not enough. Once again, I was on the deck looking in on her as she prepared for the night's visitor.

This was not like other nights, where she knew I was sitting in the teak chair. Where she would look out the window and silently mouth secret messages to tease and arouse me. On this night she would not pop out onto the deck to chat about the client's state of mind. No, tonight I hid in the shadows. I lurked like a sneak thief, waiting to steal a treasured secret.

V took a quick shower then slipped into a silk robe. She lit candles throughout the house, put on soft music and decanted a bottle of wine. She glided from room to room as if propelled by the force of her passion. I yearned to be the focus of that passion. I yearned to be a pivotal part of her life. I yearned to be needed by her.

Her guest arrived bearing a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. They hugged and then she led him into the living room. They sat between the paintings of desert and forest. He spoke and she laughed like his words were the tones of pure delight. She sat close to him, her eyes beaming into his. He put his arm around her and drew her in.

Why did I subject myself to this torture? Why did my gaze lock onto every kiss, onto every motion of his hand, onto the tense of her back and the glow in her eyes? Why didn't I leave? The question is irrelevant. I stayed.

Her robe parted exposing the luscious curve of her breasts, but his hands failed to approached them, and his lips failed to caressed them. His eyes never left hers, instead they left her hanging in anticipation.He brushed an unruly lock of hair from her face, which led to more exposure for him to ignore.

I admired his ability to tease her while doing nothing. I wondered if teasing was something he learned or was an innate skill. Was this why she chose him? Maybe if I teased her she would choose me.

Only when she began to unbutton his shirt did his hands explore her partially naked torso. He was playful while sensuous. His fingertips started at the small of her back and moved forward and up. She laughed as they passed her ribs.

The joy on V's face sucked away any wind that might have been in my mainsail. How could I hope to compete with someone who could provide such joy with a simple touch.

V slid off his shirt. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest; hair that would soon tickle her nipples and caress her chest. He slid off her robe to reveal the perfect form of her naked body. His hands flowed down her legs while hers swam through his chest hair.

I wanted to run into the house and scream for them to stop, but I was transfixed. Nothing could save me from the horror of their impending lovemaking.

He stood and V kneeled before him. She looked up at his eyes as she unbuckled his belt. He toyed with her hair while she toiled with his zipper. His rigid cock leapt from his descending pants. She kissed it lightly on the tip and then looked up to measure his approval.

My cock was as rigid as his. It longed for her touch. It longed for her kisses. It longed for her affection.

Her lips lingered on the tip of his penis for a few moments and then her head began to ascend and descend his erection. His hands helped to guide her head. As she bobbed she took more and more of his shaft. Eventually, his entire shaft slid down her throat and he began to fuck her head. He became more and more physical as they fucked. He used more and more force to push himself down her throat.

I could hear his moans from my dark corner at the edge of the deck. I imagined what it would feel like to have my shaft down her throat. I wondered how it would feel to have her want me as she wanted him.

She began to gag, and he pulled his penis out of her mouth. Long strings of mucus connected his cock to her mouth. The strings stretched and sagged as she looked upwards into his eyes. He smiled approvingly down on her. She was happy to have pleased him. He guided her up with a finger under her chin. She tried to kiss him on the lips, but he would have none of that. He took her hand and guided her to her bedroom, grabbing his wine glass as he went.

My heart sank even further. This was the first time a visitor had gone into her bedroom. I carefully crossed the deck to where I had a better view.

He laid her down on the bed and began to trace arcs and curves on her exposed chest while speaking softly to her. He laughed, spoke and laughed again. The arcs and curves grew to cover more and more of her body. His hand traced down her leg and up her thighs. It came to rest on her pussy. It held still there, teasing her with the threat of motion.

Her hand slid between his legs and swirled his pubic hair while brushing against his cock. She fondled his balls while she listened to his story. She smiled when he smiled. She laughed when he laughed. She was quiet when he spoke.

She adjusted her position and began to slowly stroke his cock while his hand gently burnished the space between her folds. He rolled onto his back and lifted her on top of him. She straddled him, holding him down by the wrists.

He plugged his cock into the socket of her vagina and began to slowly thrust up into her. She churned her hips as she rode him, working him from side to side while he worked her up and down. His cock slid out of her, then reinserted itself. The breach of her vagina's aperture induced a thrilling surge through her body.

She bent over and dangled her exquisite breasts over his mouth. He raised his head to kiss a nipple, but she pulled it out of reach. He tried again. She laughed while holding him at bay.

He gave a sinister smile, extracted his penis and breached her again and again. Her spine crumbled, leaving her at his mercy.He thrust deeply, forcing his erect penis far inside of her. She writhed on top of him, attempting to regain her composure, but she was no match for his plunging cock. He grasped at the sheets with his hands while his feet strained against the bedding that had piled up at the foot of the bed. His hips bucked against hers.

I could see her body shudder from his vaginal attack. I could smell her scent from within the house. I could feel the aura of their sex. Desire welled up within me. I could feel it building in my loins and in my cock. The pressure mounted as I watched V and her visitor come as one.

I too came, only I came without the touch that I so desired. It was then, with a wad of cum in my pants, that I was glad I was alone.

*********

Mark had made the evening sound much better than it was. He had no way of knowing how little she liked her visitor; unfortunately, he had assumed the worst.

Victoria scrolled down to the bottom to see that the blog posting had gotten almost 30,000 views in less than four hours. The comments ranged from those creeped out by his uninvited voyeurism to those admonishing him for not having a backbone.

Over the following weeks Victoria made a point of visiting Mark's haunts in an unfruitful search for him. She lingered in the library and watched the sun and moon set from the bluffs. When Shelley called she raced to catch him sitting on the bench.

Mark looked up at Victoria, who towered over him. "Your lou," he stammered. He paused, took a breath, then he said, "You look particularly nice for a Tuesday morning." She was rarely up this early and for once she was actually dressed like a real estate agent.

"Thank you," she said. Mark's halting compliment had partially disarmed her. She sat down next to him. She noticed that his hands were trembling. "I dropped you at the hotel. Why didn't you just trust me? Why did you watch?"

"I couldn't help myself." Mark spoke slowly and deliberately.

It was probably about as honest an answer as she could hope to get.

"You love him don't you?" Mark knew it sounded pathetic, but he had to ask.

"No. I don't."

"Then why did you drop me at the hotel?"

"Roger's tastes are more conventional that what you were used to watching. I didn't want to risk you misreading the situation and getting confused."

"But you looked so happy."

"It's all part of the deal. He paid me to act like he was the center of my world. I thought you knew that."

"I guess I did get confused."

They both watched the waves below. There were many things to say, most of which would be better left unsaid.

"I guess I got confused twice. I thought you loved him and I thought you had feelings for me." Mark paused then continued, "No, wait. In the car you told me that you did have feelings for me. You said that I'd burrowed into your life."

Victoria smiled at him and said, "I did didn't I? I think we both got a little confused. I was so confused that spent the last three weeks looking for you."

"Sorry about that. I guess my fragile male ego isn't up to this."

She regretted using the baby voice the last time they spoke about his ego. She needed him to buck up. Victoria reached over and took his hand. "Why are you shaking so much?"

"I think I'm overloaded with conflicting emotions. I have so much desire and yet I feel so inadequate."

"That's understandable. Men are hardwired to be breadwinners, rescue damsels and marry a faithful wife. I win my own bread, I don't want to be rescued and I fuck for money. Being with a woman like me is against your nature."

Victoria squeezed his palm and gave his ego what it craved the most, praise, "One of the things I find attractive about you is your ability to persevere against long odds. Do you remember the time I found you desperately trying to work while soaking wet, and the time I made you sail while I did my best to distract you?"

Mark laughed, he had suspected she was deliberately torturing him.

"I was impressed by how you handled yourself. You knew what you wanted and you suffered poverty and humiliation to get it. You are the only man I know that has the force of will to overcome the cravings of his ego. So, I understand your feelings of inadequacy, but they are completely misplaced. You don't appreciate how extraordinary you are."

"That is very kind," Mark said. He wondered where Victoria was going with this.

"Mark, I think you can make me happy. If you want me, all you have to do is ask," Victoria concluded.

He heard the words, but they didn't make sense. There was so much going on in her life that he didn't know what 'having her' meant.

"Look, I realize this is going to be really hard for you. We may try and fail, but we will certainly fail if we don't try."

That made it easy. Mark asked, "Would you like to go to lunch today?"

She laughed, "No, we're beyond lunch. I want you to take me to bed." She leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

Victoria drove them to her house and led him to the bedroom where she undressed. She held up a familiar corset and asked "Would you help me with this?"

Mark smiled. He knew she had a drawer full of corsets, but the one she picked was special. It was from the night he first kissed her. He wrapped it around her, fastened it up and drew it tight.

"I've been reading your blog," she said while looking through her drawer of stockings. "You get an interesting view into a person's soul from reading their blog."

Mark wondered if he had said anything he would regret.

She handed him the first stocking and held up her foot. "You liked watching William massage my feet didn't you?"

Mark eased her toes into the foot of one of the stockings and began to slide it up her leg. He gently smoothed out the stocking on her calf as he said, "I did."

"Tell me precisely what you liked." Victoria patiently held up her foot as Mark caressed her leg through the stocking.

"I liked watching him massage your toes."

Victoria stood so that Mark could fasten the stocking to the garter.

Mark focused on the stocking despite the distraction of Victoria's exposed pussy. He carefully secured each fastener, making sure not to damage the stocking. As he finished he leaned over to kiss her pedals as he had done before.

She pushed his head aside and said, "All things come to those who wait." She handed him the second stocking and lifted her other foot. "You only liked the massage?"

Mark methodically smoothed and adjusted the stocking. He felt the firmness of her calf muscles and supple give in her thighs. He said, "I liked it when he sucked your toes too."

"Well, I better sit down then." Victoria led him out of her bedroom and into the dungeon. She took a seat in the leather wingback chair. "Put your clothes in the corner."

Mark undressed and dropped his clothes in a pile in the corner. He was disappointed that they had moved out of the bedroom and apprehensive about the control Victoria was exerting. But what the hell, this was a lot more fun than sitting in the teak chair. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the chair was empty.