Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“On your knees, little doll,” I instruct as I rise to my feet.
Zel scurries to get in position and within three steps, my pants are dropped, my boxer briefs lowered, and my cock is roughly thrust inside her. She moans at the top of her lungs in gratitude yet screams when she’s snatched backward into my sadistic pounding by the very braids, she was just fucking herself with. One is immediately wound securely around my palm and used to jerk her into each vicious pump; however, the other meets my mouth, allowing me to suck the sweet stickiness she was forced to provide. Our bodies brutally collide on heavy grunts and harsh growls. Surges of wetness stream down my shaft and soak my thighs. They drip down to my balls. Get slapped back against her pussy on each unrelenting drive to the hilt. She abruptly comes, arches her back, and comes again. I groan in satisfaction around the blockade and force the yanking of her hair to match the frequency of my crazed thrashing. Obsession over needing to properly mark, properly remind her who’s pussy this is leads me to pulling out to spread cum everywhere. The first spurt lands on her ass. I damn near rip her hair out of her head in the pursuit of landing the next along the faint part on her scalp. Thick ropes that land near her neck are left to drip and dry in a primitive proclamation that reminds us both that this is my doll.
My woman.
My…everything.
***
Post a proper cleaning from me, which includes a long soak in the tub, extensive washing of her hair, and a drying session that includes another round of orgasms, I dismiss myself for what remains of the afternoon to allow Zel time to study before our evening festivities. I keep myself busy by primarily answering emails from work and ignoring those from the “building watch patrol” who are really nothing more than a bunch of board housewives with nothing else to gossip about.
Our evening plans consist of what I believe to be much needed socializing. The two of us join a few of my closest friends and acquaintances for an exclusive event at the prestigious Wilhelm Winery. There’s mindless chatting and ass kissing, all of which my date simply smiles and nods along to. Most of it is dreadfully boring especially in comparison to watching her struggle not to get crumbs from the bruschetta on her yellow, off the shoulder, high slit gown.
Unfortunately for me, my fascination with watching her every move, receives commentary from Mandy, Jacob Fogelman’s mousy, pearl obsessed mistress. “You typically don’t bring a date to these things, Elias.” She tangles her arms around the one her boyfriend isn’t using to swish wine around. “You typically just leave with one.”
Zel’s frame starts to stiffen, an action that causes me to reach over and pretend to fix her hair that’s actually perfect. “And yet this evening I will be doing both.”
A small blush tints her cheeks.
“What was your name again?” Mandy inquires right as a waiter arrives with a new sample for us to try. “It seems as if I’ve forgotten already. Silly me. I’m terrible with names.”
Except when Jacob makes the mistake of calling her by his wife’s.
“Zel,” she sheepishly replies.
“Go on, little doll,” I warmly encourage, chin tipping to the offering. “You might enjoy this one. It may be red – the type you prefer to pass on – but it does sparkle.” My free hand lands lovingly on the small of her back. “Perhaps it will be to your liking.”
Her grin grows blindingly bright. “You remember what type of wine I prefer.”
“I do.”
There isn’t much I don’t know about her.
I would never admit it out loud, but I know more about her than any other doll I’ve had.
She gives me a happy hum, finishes the tiny bite of bread she had left, and grabs a glass.
Mandy poorly hides her snide expression prior to poking more at the woman she’s most likely envious of. “What is it you do for a living, Zel? Or do you just so happen to be a well-kept woman like myself who is fortunate enough to spend all her time sipping martinis and splurging at the spa while waiting for pookie wookie to come home?”
“Well-kept or spoiled?” I mutter from behind my glass and have a sip.
“I work in-” she unexpectedly stops herself to correct, “well, I used to work in housecleaning, but now…,” a sweet smile that causes my heart to swell is shot my direction, “now I’m just a full-time student.”
If I have it my way, contract or not, that is how it’ll remain.
“Studying?” Jacob warmly asks, joining the conversation.
“Nursing.” Zel adjusts her grip on the glass. “I think I may want to eventually do Aged Care Nursing – helping the elderly who can no longer help themselves – however, we’ll see at the end of next semester when it’s finally time for my residency.”