Warning: This book contains explicit descriptions of an older, alpha male spanking and physically dominating a much younger, submissive female. The content is strictly for adults only!
Read alsoSustainability Matters
Sustainability Mattersis a compilation of some of the best research papers by students from the National University of Singapore's inter-disciplinary graduate programme in environmental studies, the MSc in Environmental Management [MEM]. This collection is for the period 2009/10 to 2011/12.As the period covers 3 academic years, the…
It’s been two weeks since Emily last saw her boyfriend’s father, Charles. It’s been two weeks since that morning in the kitchen, and she can’t stop thinking about him. When Charles suddenly reappears, offering to bring Emily to his lavish office in the city, it’s an easy decision for her to jump into the car with him.
But Emily isn’t certain what she’s getting herself into, especially when it comes to her boyfriend’s dominating father.
This 3,000 word story is a hot new erotica from Sybille Esther.
Charles ushers me into the elevator, where we stand apart from one another, and he doesn’t look at me, only at some indeterminate spot on the door. From the corner of my eye I can see his profile: the hard, shaved jaw, the aquiline nose, his salt-and-pepper hair. Why does my boyfriend’s father have to be so handsome?
What would he do if I kissed him right here? Or – even better – if I dropped to both knees, undid his belt and put my mouth on him? But he has to tell me to do those things. He has to command me. That’s what gets me wettest, and him hardest. But he doesn’t say anything to me at all, so we ride in silence.
I never realized this until the elevator dings at the top floor and Charles swipes a keycard to let us into his office: he’s the CEO. There isn’t anyone above him. His office is twice the size of the bedroom Will and I live in, and it’s immaculate: tall oak cabinet on a side wall, a monstrous matching desk facing the door with perfectly organized files set upright in a holder along the edge. Behind him, a picture window, the slats tilted to let the day in, and a leafy plant leaning into the window’s view for sunlight.
I stand in the doorway while he crosses to the leather swivel-chair at his desk, and I’m hit with a jolt of attraction for Charles the CEO, Charles the lawyer. I’m already a little wet as I walk to the window that overlooks the street.
We’re in one of the taller buildings in the heart of downtown, and from here, it’s like I’m looking at the top of everyone else’s head, all the smaller buildings sloping away from us to the suburbs. Somewhere out there is the house we live in, and the kitchen counter we’ve fucked on.
“Emily,” he says from behind me, “I want you to do something.”