Her eyes downcast. She knew the score.I had been seeing Vicky for two months, or eight weeks of hedonistic fucking to be precise. She had admitted, that first night when she brought me back to her student flat, that she was naturally submissive and since then, I had worked out every button I needed to press to keep her willing, needy and desperate to be loved.“I love you, Donna. You know I’ll do anything for you.”I took that as a challenge.She knew I slept around, well fucked around would be more precise. I didn’t sleep over with any of them. I didn’t do the 8 am walk of shame. I would pick them up, let them take me back to theirs and fuck them, then get a taxi home.As I left the hotel and headed back to work, Vicky was the last thing on my mind. Elton John may have sung that “Saturday Night’s alright for fighting” but Friday night was for fucking. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the chase, as I closed in on my prey, I’d give that little smile as I looked into their eyes,. No sign that he had once pounded his cock into her from behind as she watched others fuck.She gave him a peck on the cheek and they went inside. Inside she took his hands and explained very simply what she wanted. He nodded with understanding and then he took her upstairs.They passed the room where she had been fucked the week before and came to a door at the end of the hall. He opened and it was his master bedroom, clearly. At first glance it seemed perfectly respectable, masculine; only after you looked at it for a moment did the furnishings seem a bit too much, almost lubricious. He pointed to a large mahogany bureau and unlocked it with a key on his chain, explaining that if there were any special devices she might want for the evening, they would be found inside. She marveled at the idea; it had never occurred to her to ever use such a thing in the act of sex, let alone that someone might keep them at hand like that.He pulled the door behind her and she looked at herself in the.
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