Concentration
Author: Psionic_X
Email: Psionic.Rules@gmail.com
My name is Jonas Kearse. I am a master of the art and science of concentration. So what you say? Well, you see, the ability to deeply concentrate gives me access to the powers of the mind, greater access than other people. This includes the power to make people see and do what I want them to. The power to cloud men’s minds just like the fictional character The Shadow. I don’t have to take because people will just give me what I want; money, power, sex. Ahhh, I see you’re interested now. How did I learn? Let me start at the beginning....
I was a simple janitor. Had been for the entire 12 years since leaving high school. The football scholarship didn’t happen and I’d done just enough to graduate...barely.
But for a sharp young african-american I had several jobs to chose from. Working a fast food joint, or a convienance store, digging ditches, or any number of menial labor nowhere jobs. I chose janitor. Well, maybe chose is too strong a word. After six weeks of looking and mom constantly being on my back about getting a job they were the only ones to call me back so janior it was. It shut mom up for all of ten minutes which, if you know my mom is about the same as a whole month, so I was grateful.
I hated the job. I mean hated. It was at this huge office building that was home to some private finance group. The work itself was okay. I mean being a janitor, while not exactly the NFL wasn’t the worst job one can get. It was fairly easy. No the work was fine. Boring. Low paying. Dead end. But I wasn’t breaking my back which was strictly against my religion. No, what I hated, really hated, were the people who worked there.
I and the rest of the crew showed up when they were getting ready to leave but in the short time I interacted with them I could feel the sneers and the looking down on me. The racist jokes spoken in stage whispers so I’d be sure to hear them. It made me see red but what could I do? I didn’t have the resources for any legal action and it would be me against a giant billion dollar company. And I needed the job. But inside I seethed. I could break any one of these white boys in half. But doing so would have meant my job and they were secure in the knowledge that I’d take it and grin. And I did. Hating myself as much as I did them for my passive subserviance, a hatred which grew as the years passed me by.
But more than the snotty ivy leaguers, more than the mind numbing work, more than myself, I hated Paris. Thats what I secretly called her anyway. She looked like Paris Hilton only with about 20 extra pounds split evenly between her tits and ass. She was hot! And ten times the bitch her celebrity namesake was. Her real name was Racheal, Racheal Hollister. A graduate of Georgetown with degrees in Finance and International Business, she was sky rocketing through the company ranks at a rate that was fast approaching escape velocity. Her co-workers hated her. Her bosses despised her. But she was what they call a rainmaker. She was closing staggering deals and in two short years was a vice president, leaping over many with seniority. And if they didn’t like it, if the whispers became a grumble she’d fire some poor bastard and in this business, the older you are, the harder it is to catch on elsewhere. Like I said, a true bitch.
My hatred of her was due to the fact that she seemed to dish out special treatment for me. The floor she worked on was my responsibility and she always worked a bit later than everyone else. And she was relentless in her harrassment, complaining about things that I knew she was making up. I emptied her garbage along with all the rest, yet she insisted I was missing hers. She would question me about valuables that were missing from her office. I knew it was bullshit because I still had my job. She just liked fucking with me. I wasn’t sure why. I knew it wasn’t racism like the rest of her collegues since the entire crew, except for Ralph the lead janitor, whom I secretly referred to as the Overseer, was black and she ignored them. No she had a special place in her heart for me but I couldn’t figure out why.
But the worst of it was that I wanted her and she knew it. Like I said, she looked like Paris Hilton. I don’t mean sort of. I don’t mean kind of. I mean she could have been Paris and Nicky’s long lost triplet. The only difference is my Paris was stacked! And she dressed to show off her fantastic body. She would make certain I got a good view down the blouses she wore. She would purposely drop things so that she could bend over and give me a good look at her perfect bubble butt. And try though I might, I couldn’t not look and she would catch me everytime. She would ask me what I was looking at and make it plain that she could have my job for sexual harrasment. I used to sweat bullets but I stopped when it was clear she wouldn’t have me fired. I didn’t know why she picked on me but I knew one thing for sure: She loved doing it. The bitch was having fun!
Then the book came into my life. I was working and two guys that worked on my floor were still in their office. I emptied the trash and listened in on their conversation.
“I can’t believe that little bastard! He spent my money on this piece of shit! And without asking! Christ I wish he lived with his goddamn father!”
“So why doesn’t he?”
“Are you kidding? His mother won’t hear of it. She says I’m a better role model and since I’m the brat’s stepfather I need get closer to him. So I try to do the buddy thing and what does the little bastard do? Take my credit card and buy a $250 book from an amazon.com bookseller! And what is the book on? Invisibility! Can you believe it!”
“$250 bucks!?!?! Wow! Why so much?”
“Its out of print and new age idiots believe the shit works so they shell out big bucks whenever they find a copy. The bookseller has a no refund policy so I can’t get my money back that way. So I cancelled the card, said it was stolen and that the purchase wasn’t mine. Plus I’m making the little bastard pay me back every dollar! His mom is backing me for once. Didn’t tell either of them I cancelled the card.”
“Hahahaha. Sneaky George, very sneaky! So what will you do with the book? Sell it?”
“Naw, I don’t give a damn about that. You want it?”
“No thanks! I come in the door with something like that and I’d need to be invisible. You know what a holy roller Nancy is. Everything New Age is of the devil.”
“In that case, two points!” I heard a thunk of something going into a wastebasket and the sounds of the men getting ready to leave. They come out and see me and get quiet. They walk off and I knew what was coming as soon as they got far enough away. I counted down; 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....
I listened to their laughter until the elevator door cut it off. I clenched my jaw. Someday. I went into George’s office and started to empty the wastebasket when I saw the book. I fished it out. It wasn’t much...less than 160 pages. For $250 dollars that was a rip off. I looked at it. Invisibility by Steve Richards, Mastering the art of vanishing. I don’t know why but I decided to keep the book. I slipped it into my coveralls intending to read it later. I went about my job and finished by lunch as usual. I had the system down cold. It was supposed to take me the full eight hours to do my work but I found numerous ways to cut down on the work. I’d always finish then go down and join the rest of the crew for lunch. I would have preferred to just stay on my floor as I liked being alone but I found that if I didn’t show for lunch, then Ralph would come up and see what I was up to. I couldn’t have that. So I made an appearance and he kept his lazy fat ass downstairs reading magazines. We all knew that as long as the work was done and there were no complaints, Ralph really didn’t give a shit and never checked on anyone but new guys.
I finished lunch and came back up and it was time for my excercises. That was how I always spent the time after lunch. I’d been a big Herschel Walker fan growing up and trained like he did, bodyweight only. Pushups, squats, situps, etc. A rigorous program I’ve maintained since high school. I was still muscular and ripped. I got ready to warm up when I felt the book. I took it out and looked at it. For some reason I decided to skip my workout for the first time in twelve years and read.
I finished just as it was time to go down and punch out. I did it mechanically, absent-mindedly. I didn’t even hear Ralph’s usual smart remark. I just walked out, thinking of the book. The book. I went home and just sat there, in my room, staring at the book. It was crazy. It couldn’t be true. I was mad to even think it. But think it I did. I went to bed and dreamt of wearing a smoking jacket and having no head.
When I awakened I had a resolve I hadn’t felt since The last time I strapped on shouder pads. I read the book again. Then again. Then again. Then I started reading it slower, highlighting important parts. Going over them again and again. I started going to the library and checking out the books Richards mentions in the notes section. These too I read and read and read. Taking vast notes I soon had a stack of notebooks filled to the brim with valuable information. My mother, nosy as ever, made the comment that if I had hit the books this hard in school I’d wouldn’t be a janitor now. I ignored her which was the worst thing I could do. I came from work and found that she had gone through my things, the notebooks gone. So was the book, Invisibility. I went to her in a rage.
“Mom! What did you do with my notebooks? My book? Where are they?”
“Gone.” I was on the edge, on the very edge, of doing something terrible.
“What did you do with my notebooks mom?”
“I burned them.” I felt the ground drop from beneath my feet. I steadied myself, I held the terrible rage in check.
“The book mom...Invisibility...where is it?”
“I burned that too.” I was choking on bile...my eyes bugged out of my head, my anger was blue hot and I was dizzy with the need to do violence.
“Why?” I sounded as if I’d merely croaked.
“I won’t have the devil’s work in this house. That book talked about terrible things, things against god. I won’t have it, not here, not in my house.”
“You had no right...”
“Boy, you still living in my house! I have every right! Watch your tongue or I will cut it out!”
I hit her then. I felt the bone splinter under my fist. She crashed backwards into the table and I was on her like a lion on a lamb. I hit her and hit her and hit her showing no mercy, never letting up. The blood flew and spattered me with every strike but I never let up, I couldn’t. I needed to make sure the bitch was dead. Finally my arms grew too heavy for me to lift. I stood and looked down upon the foul corpse I once called mother. Yes, she was dead...ding dong the witch was dead...dead...dead...
I snapped out of it, my mother was standing before me, berating me, telling me how she would rather see me dead before I could sell my soul to the devil. She told me to be a man and stop crying and thats when I felt and tasted the hot salty wetness on my face. My body shook with the violence it wanted to release. I imagined really doing what I’d just daydreamed. But I had more important things to do than end up in a jail cell. I went up to my room and packed a couple of bags. I came down and mom was shocked.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m moving out.”
“You can’t!”
“I can. How many times have you told me to be a man and get out on my own? Well, I’m taking your advice. I can’t live here anymore. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand you. I’ll be back for the rest of my things in an hour.” I walked away without another word, ignoring her shouts. I went to were I could get a nice basement apartment. I knew the old couple there. They could never keep anyone there because of all the work they expected tenants to do on top of paying rent. I knocked on the door and was let in. The old couple ran down the rules. $500 a month, all kinds of chores, and no visitors. I agreed with one condition.
“I want absolute privacy. I mean absolute. I don’t want you snooping in that basement. Its mine as long as I meet your demands and meet them I will. So you stay out of that basement and stay out of my things. They are mine. Never, ever let me catch you in that basement without me there or without my permission. Never.”
I could see that I angered and frightend the old couple. They didn’t appreciate the way I talked to them. I didnt care. Besides I knew that they’d agree. They needed someone to exploit and I was cheerfully willing to be exploited. But I would no longer be fucked with. Never again. They agreed to my terms and I took my things down to the basement. Very nice. Very clean. There was even an empty bookshelf. Perfect.
I made the rounds, hitting every used book store in the city, searching for a copy of Invisibility and snatching up cheap copies of the books Richards had used for reference. I searched high and low as well as online. I found copies but for exhorbinant prices. I kept looking and kept studying. I finally found a copy on ebay in good condition for $50 bucks. I didn’t hesitate. It arrived and I felt my resolve double and redouble. I again read the book from cover to cover. I again highlighted important parts and coordinated with the other books I’d bought. After a month of study and preparation it was time to begin practice.
Work was the same, yet somehow different. I was bothered less and less by the things at work. The racist jokes weren’t as hurtful and I slowly got to a point where I no longer planned to commit murder. I no longer thought of Ralph as the Overseer, but as a pathetic, bitter old man. The job was a means to an end. It paid the rent and put food in my belly and I realized I was grateful for that. My workouts suddenly were more energized, more intense. I became stronger, more muscular, more defined.
And my attitude towards Racheal, I no longer called her Paris, changed as well. I began to openly enjoy the shows she put on for me. I no longer made silly, futile efforts to hide the massive bulge that would appear in my pants when she flaunted her physical perfection. Her threats brought a smile to my face, but not to my eyes. No my eyes gazed upon her a lust that shocked and frightend the bitch. Somehow the game had changed and she didn’t know how to handle it. She began to berate me more and more and threatened my job on an almost daily basis. One day as she teased me I looked on appreciatively and when she saw it and opened her mouth to make her usual threats I cut her off with a question.
“Ms. Hollister, did you work your way through Georgetown?”
“Why...no. I got a full ride academic scholarship and my family is quite wealthy. Why do you ask?”
“Oh its just with the way you move I figured you’d stripped to pay your way through school. I understand that lots of college girls do that to pay the tuition.”
This served to rattle her even further. Her mouth opened and closed a number of times, like a fish out of water. She picked up her briefcase and stormed out of the office. I marveled that I could actually say something like that. I was changing. I expected her to have me fired, or atleast put on a different floor. But nothing changed. She continued to tease and insult me. I just continued to enjoy watching her with blazing desire. And I took to the ritual of as soon as the elevator door closed after her of gripping my hard cock through my pants and saying “Soon.”
At home, in my apartment, I was doing the excercises to increase my powers of concentration. I spent hours at this daily, practicing Raja Yoga and various other concentration and will power excercises I came across. I was becoming able to concentrate for longer and longer periods of time. And I was starting to be able to do things, small things. Chief among these was to mess with the perceptions of others. For example, as long as a person wasn’t looking directly at me, I could make myself imperceptible, slide right past them. I could also convince people of what was or wasn’t there. And even more important I began to be able to make people do what I wanted.
It was just small things at first. Very small. Making people get out of my way. Handing me something without my asking, looking at me, that sort of thing. It was easier if the person already wanted to do something. For example, I got Racheal to be a little more risque in her little performances. Instead of just undoing one button she would undo 3 or even four. I got her to bend over and stay that way longer. I even got her to “accidently on purpose” bump into me, sometimes backing into me and grinding her ass into my cock, or brushing her tits across my arm. After this she would blush and stutter and be scared out of her wits. And there was something else...excitement. I’d have to explore that further.
After another four months of intense work I was able to cloud men’s minds and make them see what I wanted them to see. I could make myself unseen and unheard. Its how I caught old man Jackson, my landlord, going through my things. I had suspected him and his wife had been snooping so I made it seem as if I’d left and then just waited. Didn’t take the old bastard five minutes to come on in. I watched as he went through my drawers and flipped through my books and notebooks and looked under my bed. I made myself visible to him and spoke quietly.
“We had an agreement.” I thought the man would drop dead of a heart attack.
“Wha?!?! I...I...Th...”
“You thought I was gone. That is what I wanted you to think. How long have you been coming in here?”
“This is the first time, I swear!” I concentrated and put some strength in my gaze.
“The truth old man. How long have you been snooping through my things?”
“From the beginning.”
“Eight months. You have broken our agreement. So for the rest of my time here, I will pay no rent. And since I know you don’t need the money, I want my $4,000 back, in cash by tommorrow. I will do no more chores and you will stay out of this room and never enter it for any reason until I move out.” The entire time I spoke I I kept up the mental pressure, making him accept everything I said. “Now when you leave this room you will find your wife. Grab her shoulders and look her in the eyes and explain everything just as I explained it to you maintaining eye contact the whole time. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now get out out of my room.” The old man shuffled out and I closed the door behind him. I sat at my desk and contemplated what took place and just like that, I couldn’t stop laughing.
I was doing my usual chores and went into Racheal’s office. As usual, she was still there. I started to work, I never asked her anymore if she wanted me to comeback since she would just berate and insult me. This had annoyed her at first, but she accepted it, just as she accepted most things when I pushed the envelope. Tonight, I’d go further than ever. She worked steadily for five minutes then it began. She dropped her pen, making a production out of it to make certain I was looking and leaned over to pick it up. She was wearing a pretty daring neckline so I got an eyeful. I was instantly hard. She slowly came back up and looked at the bulge in my pants and got her usual disgusted look on her face. I leered at her openly.
“You know Jonas, you really shouldn’t be looking at me that way and I hope you realize that its grounds for sexual harrassment.” I laughed like a maniac and she got angry. “What the hell is so funny? You think sexual harrassment is a joke?” I sobered and looked her squarely in the eyes.
“The joke Racheal,” I said, emphasizing her first name and making her eyes widen in surprise since I’d always called her Ms. Hollister, “Is you sitting there talking sexual harrassment when everyone knows you’re fucking George Marks.” She stood up like a shot.
“How dare you! How dare you say something like that about me that isn’t true!” I sneered at her and her stupidity.
“Not true? Racheal, its everywhere! I’m a janitor working the graveyard shift and I even know about the rumor going around. And I know the info comes from Mr.Marks himself because I heard him bragging to Stephen Truman about the quality of your blowjobs. Said you’re not very good and use to much teeth, but that beggars can’t be choosers and he wants that promotion.”
At this point I was fairly certain I’d gone too far. She looked like she was flat out ready to do homicide and I’d be the victim. Then she surprised me.
“Can you prove this?” I grinned from ear to ear.
“No problem. When you come into work tomorrow, get your head out of your ass, stop ignoring everyone like you’re above them and keep your ear to the ground. I guarantee, by lunchime, you’ll know I’m telling the truth about the rumors. And if you happen to be hanging around outside of Marks’ office at say...5:30 pm there is a real good chance you’ll overhear ol’ George and Stephen talking about their favorite subject; you.”
She looked steadily at me for a full minute, I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. When she spoke it was with a deadly calmness that I’d heard she used in meetings and in running her subordinates but which I’d never experienced. If she had been dealing with the old Jonas Kearse, I’d have pissed myself, even though I was telling the truth.
“I will Jonas. I will check it out. And if I find that this is your idea of a sick joke, not only will you lose your job but I WILL have you nailed for sexual harrassment and trust me, I can make it stick.” I merely chuckled and went back to cleaning. She stared at me for a bit longer and when it was clear I was ignoring her, she gathered her things and stormed out. I didn’t even bother with the ritual I felt so good.
The next day when I came it was like a hive of angry bees the buzz was so loud. Seems Racheal had took the first part of my advice and found out more than she wanted to know. Instead of taking the second part she went into a rage, called George Marks and Stephen Truman into her office along with the the HR Director and the company’s legal counsel. Fifteen minutes later they were escorted out by security. I felt a high I hadn’t felt since the night I scored the winning touchdown against our archrival the Lincoln Generals.
That started my work with a light heart. I felt like dancing with the trash baskets as I emptied them. I got to Racheal’s office and she was right there, hard at work. I went about my business but oddly the harrassment never came. I did what I could but she was still working so I figured I’d comeback to vacuum later. I was heading out when Racheal spoke up.
“I suppose you expect me to thank you.” I turned and she stood up and came towards me a very angry look on her face. “You probably think you have some kind of reward coming. That you deserve a reward. Well you can forget it. This went on for weeks while you just had a good laugh at my expense. You could have told me. You should have....”
I reached out and grabbed Racheal by the shoulders and yanked her to me violently, looking deep into her eyes, forcing my will over her will, putting her into a very deep state of hypnosis. She would have collapsed if I hadn’t had such a good grip on her. I walked her back to her chair and sat her gently there. Seeing her just sitting there slumped over, completely helpless, awaiting my commands mad me so hard it hurt. I wanted to ravage her, then and there. But a positive side effect of my training was that now I was patient; very patient. I stayed my hand and instead allowed my curiousity to take over.
“Racheal, situp straight.” She did, eyes still closed. “Now open your eyes, but realize that you are still deep in trance, still completely under my power.” Her eyes opened but stared straight ahead, completely blank. “Racheal, I will ask you questions and when I do you must answer me with complete honesty. Do you understand?”
“Yes...complete honesty.” I took a moment to get my cock to soften; I had to, it was really hurting me.
“Racheal, why do you harrass me the way you do?” Her face grew red and she was fighting answering me. I concentrated, impressing further my will upon her.
“Racheal, you must answer any of my questions with complete honesty. Now, why do you treat me the way you do.” She began breathing harder and her nipples became much more prominent.
“I...I want you to attack me, to dominate me...to rape me.” I just stood there, my brain completely short circuited. If she had pulled out a gun and unloaded into my chest I don’t think I would have been anywhere near as surprised.
“Why Racheal? Why would you want me to rape you?” She sighed and seemed to relax. She was under my control and answering my first question had unlocked the flood gates.
“I have long been attracted to black men. I read a story once about a black man who dominated white women and I could never get it out of my head. I’ve always wanted it but never dared to pursue it. No one in the circles I move in could ever know. Especially not my family. I couldn’t risk it.”
“So why now Racheal? Why me?”
“You look like him. Your body.”
“Him? My body? What do you mean Racheal.”
“The man in my fantasy had a body like yours, big, strong, muscular.”
“So why would you want me to rape you?”
“Because its what I want. And if that happened you could control me here where no one knew about it and if someone found out, I could just say you raped me. Everyone would understand that and it wouldn’t be held against me.”
I looked at her grimly. So that was her game. I hadn’t minded until the last part. Yet, I understood. She moved in a world where people like me were frowned upon. Oh not necessarily in a racist way; her family would probably feel just as pissed if she brought home some poor white guy with a high school education. It was about money and breeding in her world. She was expected to go to the best schools, be a success in the business world, and marry well; if not some guy with a billion dollars atleast a guy with the right connections who could maybe get a billion dollars. Whatever. I was going to play her game, just not her way. I’d outgrown this job and it was time for me to be moving on. I could go anywhere and do anything and no one could do a thing about it. But I’d have a little fun first.
“Racheal, I’m going to count from 1 to 5 and when I reach five you will awaken and recall NOTHING of our conversation. You will gather your things and leave. 1...2...3...4...5.”
I watched as she shook her head, glared at me, stood, picked up some papers put them in her briefcase and walked out. Again, for the second night in a row I I didn’t do the ritual; someday was here.
The next night I came in and went to work as usual. I came to Racheal’s office and she was in dressed to get dicks hard. I mean she was really on the edge of breaking whatever dress code this company had, if any. I closed the door behind me. She looked at me sharply.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m leaving Racheal. I don’t need this miserable job and believe me, I won’t miss it. But I wll miss you. So I’m going to give you a going away present.” She fought back a laugh. What exactly could I give a woman like her for a gift on a janitor’s salary.
“Well, Jonas, thats very nice of you but really, no gift is neccessary.”
“Oh but this is something you want Racheal. This is something you’ve wanted for years and could never have. Well, I’m going to give it to you Racheal. And trust me, the real thing is better than any story.” There was maybe two seconds worth of confusion on her face then a look of absolute shock as it sunk in what I meant.
“Y-you...you know...” a whisper.
“From day one Racheal. Now you get to live the dream,” I chuckled, “how many women get to live the dream?”
“No! I...I don’t want this...get out! do you hear me? Get out!” She reached for her phone and I shot forward and grabbed her wrist.
“Sorry Racheal, but this is a private party for just two people.” She tried to pull away but pilates is no match for 1000 pushups a night. Keeping hold on her wrist, I moved around to her side of the desk. Our eyes met and without me bringing the power to bear, even a little Racheal Hollister surrendered to me, mind, body and soul....
I zipped and buttoned my pants while looked at the woman I’d savagely brutalized. She lay there, eyes unseeing, staring off at something in space. I began to walk out when a hand grabbed my ankle.
“You’re really not coming back?”
“Nope. This job is too small for me now. Maybe my replacement will be to your taste.” I pulled my ankle free and walked out without another backward glance. I got to the main floor and started heading towards the main door.
“Hey, lunch room is this way.” I stopped and turned to look at Ralph. Hadn’t realized it was lunchtime.
“I quit.” And went right out the door.
I was laying on my bed figuring the best way to get up some cash. It wouldn’t be hard but there couldn’t be any questions. Maybe convince someone to make me a highly paid ‘consultant’ and get paid for doing jack. I always thought consultants were the best con men around. The doorbell rang but I paid no attention, I never had anyone over. Suddenly there was a knock on my door.
“Come.” I sat up when Racheal came in and closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?”
She blushed, embarrased.
“I wanted to see you Jonas. Its been a week and you haven’t been by the office or called.”
“I’m sorry Racheal; maybe I stuttered or spoke in latin or french so lets try in english. I said I was gone and I left. End of story. Now, if you want something, say what it is, this ain’t the mall, ya can’t just come on by when you feel like it. Now spit it out, I’m busy.”
“I want to see you again.” I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.
“What for?” Even with all the mental training I was still a little slow on the uptake.
“I want want more of what you gave me in the office. I want you to control me. To use me. Anyway you wish, anytime you want.”
I grinned. My money problems had just been solved. Somehow it was as if racheal had read my mind.
“I can pay you of course. And I own a luxury apartment building, you can stay there rent free. A new car, and anything else you want.” I smirked.
“I suppose this is a secret?” She looked down.
“My family is very wealthy. I’m their only child. Its alot of money Jonas. I don’t want to give it up...but I will. I have my own money...not so much but its still millions.” I laugh.
“I was just asking Racheal, relax. Secret is just fine. Suits me and my plans to a T. Yeah. I’ll be needing that apartment furnished too.” She perked right up now that she knew it was a go.
“Of course! Anything Jonas, anything at all!” I pushed my sweats down and lay back on the bed. There wasn’t a moments hesitation. Soon my cock was engulfed in heaven. Ol’ George had no idea. As she found her rythm I reached down, grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her mouth off my cock. My eyes burned into her surprised ones and I felt her surrendering.
“I won’t be satisfied with just you Racheal.” She smiled.
“I have friends...who dream about being dominated.”
I let go of her hair and she eagerly goes back to sucking my cock. Inside, despite my best efforts, I felt the beginnings of laughter....