Addicted to Erotica

Coming back to this bookstore tonight had been a gamble. What were the chances that she would be here again?

But there the pretty brunette was, sitting alone in the café, apparently reveling in more erotica and pirates.

Victor went to her table, drawn to her like a magnet. She seemed afraid of him again at first. And yet, there was a spark of something in her sad blue eyes. Was it desire? Could he be so lucky? He knew he was no young stud, but he still had his looks. And he had plenty to offer a woman. But after his wife died several years ago, he simply had no interest in women anymore. No real women anyway. Just models in various nudie magazines...

But this one, for some reason, interested him.

Glancing at her books, Victor noted that they all appeared to be more of the same. This woman was very much the submissive. He liked the fact that she acknowledged it to herself. And he liked that she seemed to have a healthy regard for sex. But she seemed so innocent and shy. An intriguing puzzling paradox.

Victor had always been fond of working puzzles.

Using as much charm as he could work up, he had convinced the pretty brunette to let him buy her coffee. As he came back to the table, he was all too aware of how she was devouring him with her eyes. So she was not quite as cold as she came across.

"My name's Victor..." he volunteered as he sat beside her with the tray of coffee.

"Greta..." she answered with a small nod.

"After the great Greta Garbo?"

"Who?" she asked with a blink.

Lord, he felt old. What was he doing with this child?

"Greta Garbo," he explained. "She was a classic film actress from the 1930s. Very beautiful and mysterious. The name suits you."

Greta looked down at her coffee.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don't mean."

"I meant every word."

And he did.

Apparently, the woman did not know how beautiful she truly was. And somehow that made her even more attractive.

There was an awkward silence between them as they sipped at their coffee.

"So you like erotica too?"

Victor nearly spat out the hot liquid, taken aback by the directness of her question.

"Well, who doesn't?" he laughed.

"I know plenty of people who don't."

"Well, they don't admit that they do...at any rate. Of course, not all erotica is of the literary sort" Victor acknowledged, eyeing her over the rim of his cup as he took another sip.

"What kind do you like?" she asked curiously. "What is your fantasy?"

Victor was just as fond of internet sites, dirty movies and Playboy magazines as the next guy. His fantasies were hopelessly ordinary. And yet, right now this girl was his fantasy. And her fantasies were his...

Despite his better judgment, he could not resist trying to be what she wanted.

"I'd better not say," he teased with a smile.

"Why not?" Greta asked, obviously disappointed.

"Well," he admitted. "They're pretty dark fantasies."

Greta's eyes lit up brightly with interest.

"Really?"

"Yes. I shouldn't tell you. I had enough of a hard time getting you to take the coffee..."

Greta took a sip of her drink, trying hard to control her curiosity and failing miserably.

"You know," she finally ventured. "If you don't tell me, I'm going to think the worst. I'm going to think that you like to mutilate people and fuck them after they're dead...stuff like that."

Victor guffawed with laughter.

"Body parts and corpses are quite dull in bed actually..." he joked. "And all that horrible screaming grates on the nerves."

Greta smiled good-naturedly.

"You have a lovely smile," he commented.

Just as quickly as it came, her smile faded.

"So what do you like?"

Victor chose his words carefully, trying to guess what she wanted to hear.

"Well, of course, men tend to fantasize more visually. At least, I do..."

She waited for him to continue in eager anticipation.

"And I tend to be very aggressive and dominating. In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Greta licked her lips excitedly.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" she asked.

Victor nodded in satisfaction. Now he had her exactly where he wanted her.

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Greta regretted that she had asked him for dinner. Dinner meant conversation and polite manners and choosing from the menu. Dinner was something that couples did. And she didn't want to be part of a couple. Nevertheless, Greta did want to fuck Mr. Noble's brains out. She didn't care if his real name was Victor. To her, he was Mr. Noble.

And of course, they had to be at a French restaurant...with course after course after course to get through.

Greta pushed away the Crepe Suzette with irritation.

"Don't you like the food?" Mr. Noble asked.

"Sure," she smiled with forced politeness. "It was great. But I'm ready for dessert."

"We just had it..." Mr. Noble said with a quirked eyebrow.

"I mean..." Greta sighed with her confession. "The 'real' dessert. That is if you're still interested."

"I am very interested..."

Mr. Noble took her hand across the table. It was the first physical contact they had since her butt had rubbed up against him a week ago. His thumb rubbed along the palm of her hand and her wrist. God, he was just holding her hand...and she tingled.

"But perhaps we should wait until next week."

"What?" Greta asked, completely shocked.

"We don't really know each other, do we?"

Greta could have cried in disappointment. He seemed to be under the impression that she wanted to get to know him.

"Look," she explained. "I'm not looking for anything serious. I'm not even looking for a relationship. I just got over a bad one and..."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Greta paused, flustered. Already she had told this man more about herself than she had wanted to.

"The point is...I'm okay with just...playing around."

"And what if I'm not?"

Greta was silent, obviously at a loss.

"Do you assume that all men just want cheap and easy sex?"

"Well, no...but..."

"I am proposing we wait a week. See if this is what we really want to do."

"Maybe I'm busy next week..." Greta sniped.

"Maybe I'll be busy too..."

"Well," Greta huffed, ready to leave the restaurant. "Shall we get going then?"

"Of course."

As they left the restaurant, standing on a dark street at Astor Place, Greta began to make her way to the subway and home. Her porn and rabbit was getting better by the second. They didn't play games...or make her wait around for a week...or give her snippy comebacks.

"Well, good bye..." she huffed. "And thanks for the dinner..."

Suddenly, she was grasped by the arm.

Mr. Noble pulled her towards him, backing her up against the wall of a nearby brick building. They were in the shadows where no one could see them.

"Now that wasn't very nice, was it?"

Oh, God! Mr. Noble's hand was on her breast. She could feel him cup her tit and squeeze it. And she wriggled around a bit, worried that someone on the street might see. And he pinched her nipple hard through the material of her bra.

She gasped out in surprise with the sensation, her heart racing.

"Answer me!" he ordered, slapping lightly at her breast..

The strike hadn't hurt. She had barely felt it even, but her pussy was throbbing with want.

"When a date pays for dinner, it is usually polite to kiss him goodnight, isn't it?"

"Um...I guess."

His hand snaked around her butt and under her skirt.

"Ouch!" she squealed, feeling him pinch her ass cheek hard. "That's going to bruise!"

"Good," he smirked. "Something to remember me by. Now are you going to be a good girl and kiss Daddy good night?"

Greta felt repulsed and turned on at the same time at the thought of calling him Daddy.

"Yes..." she gasped. "Daddy..."

With both hands, Mr. Noble grabbed her face and pulled her close. Technically, he was the one doing the kissing but she wasn't going to argue the point. His mouth plunged against hers. He was slightly rough, grazing her lips with his teeth. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she sucked on it greedily. Oh, he tasted of coffee and cream, so good. She heard passersby comment about them. Someone even yelled out to get a room. But she didn't care. She was oblivious to everything except Mr. Noble. Daddy.

"Very good..." he smiled. "Now I shall see you next week, yes?"

"Yes, Daddy," she answered with slightly glazed eyes.

"Good night."

"Good night."

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A week later...

Greta sat in the café, her eyes dully resting on the page. She didn't even know what she was reading. She couldn't concentrate enough to remember any of the details. The characters, the plot, the dirty acts...everything seemed to just become symbols on a page. Words and sentences that had no meaning.

She had been messed up like this all week. When she tried to focus on having her nice session with her rabbit, she began to think about Mr. Noble. And then the vibrator was not fast enough or large enough. She would have to work it very hard to come. And even afterwards, she would want more.

And always, it would come back to that sultry kiss on Astor Place...

The week had dragged by. She shouldn't even be here, not after he had taken her for granted like that. But this was the closest she would ever get to having her cruel pirate captain. And she simply couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"What are you reading?"

Greta looked up eagerly.

There Mr. Noble was -- casually dressed in a black buttoned-down shirt and dark pants. It was refreshing not to see him in a suit for once.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Really?" he smiled curiously, sitting down across from her. "What were you thinking about?"

"Trigonometry..." she joked.

"Don't lie to Daddy or I will have to spank you."

That was it. Her underwear was soaked again.

"I was thinking about you."

"How sweet..."

Mr. Noble took her hand and stroked it. Greta clenched her thighs together in an effort to relieve some of the pressure in her crotch. It didn't help.

"What were you thinking about me?"

"Um...it's embarrassing..."

And it was. She was feeling all hot and red, just thinking about telling him.

"You can tell me. You can tell Daddy anything."

"I wondered if you like to tie girls up..."

"Daddy loves to tie up naughty little girls..." he answered with a wink. "Have you been naughty?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy," she answered breathlessly. "I've been bad. So bad that I should be sent to bed without any supper."

Mr. Noble laughed at her suggestion.

"Then, by all means, let's go to Daddy's apartment."

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Victor took Greta to his bachelor apartment on the Upper East side. It was a small studio, but was presentable. Thank God he had the week to get a cleaning lady to straighten everything up.

Waiting a week had been risky. Victor knew that. But he wanted to stop by a store in Greenwich Village and pick up a few items for his eager submissive soon-to-be lover. Shopping there had been an experience. All he meant to get was a simple pair of handcuffs. But before he knew it, the naughty ideas started popping up along with his cock. And he ended up purchasing all sorts of toys for them -- along with a wooden box to put them all in.

And he intended to use them all, he thought, smiling naughtily as he unlocked the front door.

Greta walked inside, looking around nervously.

Locking the door behind him, Victor was determined to take control before she lost her nerve. He would go nuts if he couldn't fuck her tonight.

"Stand right where you are," he ordered.

The girl stood perfectly still.

"Hold your hands together behind your back."

"Yes, Daddy..." she sighed, placing her arms behind her and holding on to her wrist as if she had done it all her life.

Quickly, Victor retrieved the handcuffs from the wooden box, snapping them around her wrists. Greta was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling with excitement.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful tits?"

"No, Daddy."

"No? Well, you do."

Victor felt an incredible hard-on as he started to talk to her in such a bold way.

This day, Greta was wearing an emerald green sweater and a black miniskirt with black high-heeled boots. And the sweater had little black buttons which he proceeded to undo.

"Ever since I saw you reading that naughty story, I've wanted to suck them."

Greta moaned as he undid her sweater, revealing her bra. It was conveniently strapless.

"And I wondered what color your nipples were. Brown or red or pink?"

Suddenly, he yanked down her bra, making her gasp in delight.

"Mmmm...." He rubbed a fingertip against her exposed erect nipple. "Pretty and pink."

Greta shifted her weight from one foot to the other restlessly.

"Would you like me to suck on your pretty tits, baby doll?"

"Yes, Daddy..." Greta moaned, looking as if she were about to faint.

"Ask me nicely."

"Please suck on my tits, Daddy. Please."

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Victor leaned down and begin to lick and suck at her breasts. They were supple and full. He guessed she was a C cup -- his preferred size of choice. He liked his women curvy...and she had very nice curves. And she smelled of a fruity fragrance -- cherries, that was it. Perhaps bondage had been an art from lost on him all of these years. The handcuffs forced her to arch her back, making the luscious tits thrust out in the air. Sadistically, he tickled one of her nipples with his tongue.

Greta inhaled sharply, pressing her thighs tightly together.

"Are you all excited, baby?" he whispered.

"Mmmm...yes, Daddy..." she gasped.

Reaching under her skirt, Victor was surprised to feel how soaked she was through her underwear. He wanted to take her right then and there.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. You act like you've never done this before."

"I haven't..." she confessed. "I mean, I haven't been tied up like this."

Knowing that he was actually making one of her cherished fantasies come true, Victor was even more hot for her than before. He wasn't sure he had the patience to go on with this game much longer.

"Such a naughty girl to enjoy Daddy so much..." he taunted.

"Yes, Daddy."

Greta's eyes were almost glazed with yearning as she looked up at him almost hopefully.

Victor moved so quickly that he was almost violent as he took Greta's arms and wrestled her to the sofa. Sitting down, he placed her so that she was balanced precariously face down across his lap, her arms still helplessly handcuffed together behind her. With her breasts dangling from outside of her bra, she already looked like a naughty cover girl from one of his magazines. Without further hesitation, he pulled up her skirt, yanked her panties completely off and slapped her hard on the buttocks.

"Ooohhh..." she cried out, partly in pain and partly in obvious pleasure. Shifting her hips, she pressed her pussy down against his thighs in frustration.

Victor spanked her again and again hard until her butt was a blushing red. Whenever he worried about hurting her, he just thought of how her strange fetish was putting him through such sexual agony with all of the waiting. The harder he punished her, the more she squirmed and squealed and wiggled against him as if she were trying to fuck his thighs.

Snaking his hand down between her legs, Victor stroked her wet pussy.

"Oh, God..." Greta moaned, out of her mind. "Please..."

"Please what?"

Victor cringed inwardly at the way he was demeaning her, although they were both enjoying their game regardless. And that was all it was. A game...

"Please, Daddy..."

"Please, Daddy, what?" he goaded.

"Please fuck me, Daddy..." she begged, too far gone to feel ashamed. "Please fuck me right now!"

She didn't have to ask him twice.

Lowering Greta onto the floor facedown, Victor then stood up and released his furious cock from his pants. She was already on her knees with her legs spread apart widely, looking a sight half-dressed as she was with her high heels still on. Coming up to her from behind, Victor grasped her luscious naked breasts with both hands as he thrust into her.

Greta was pure female, hot and wet, sweet and tight. She cried out desperately as he began to pump against her.

For a while, Victor just rode the waves...enjoying the feel of fucking her, but he also sensed that she needed release badly and wasn't having any luck in this position. Supporting her firmly with his arm around her, he reached for her pussy with his free hand. Spreading her pussy lips wide apart with his fingers, he found her clit. As he began pinching and rubbing at her helpless button, he was amazed to hear the sounds she was making.

He could never recall any other woman he had been with ever sounding so enthusiastic and erotic at the same time...and he had been with his share of women.

With keening cries, Greta finally shuddered around him violently for a nice long time. And at last, he was able to let himself go, fucking her again and again until he came with a large explosive release.

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Greta felt almost drugged as she collapsed in dizzy exhaustion, uncaring that her face was pressed against the rug on the floor. Her arms ached from being stretched behind her. Her breasts felt tender from all of Mr. Noble's sucking and groping. Her rear end burned from his abuse. But she had never felt so sexually satisfied or at peace before. Not even with the rabbit.

When Mr. Noble unlocked the handcuffs from her wrists, she didn't know whether to be thankful or disappointed. She was a little bit of both.

And then he cuddled up behind her, holding her close.

She wasn't sure she liked that. This was getting to be too much like a relationship. But she felt too blissful to complain or to move away. Besides, she had to admit that she liked the feel of him wrapped around her.

And she found that she couldn't wait until next Friday...and the bookstore...