Chapter Four: I Was Getting Hard

Damien Blackwood

I frowned down at the woman lying straight in my bed, wearing nothing but lingerie.

Why does it always happen? This is no longer a coincidence.

The last time I saw a lady who was half-naked, placing her legs on top of my desk inside my office trying to get my attention, the next one was my business partner in a meeting—her legitimate daughter pulled her leg up to my dock, trying to get my attention also; another one was a girl I saw lying down on my chair.

Why are all girls the same? Why do they want to fuck me so badly?

I understand where all this is coming from: from my dad—the old man has been forcing each of them to seduce me—but I was not interested in them.

Wait, I never said I never had sex. I am still a man. I love sex, so whenever I want to, it’s just like an arrangement: you come at me and you have fun together; I satisfy you in different styles, and you satisfy me with pleasure. But no, child, I was never ready.

But it always made my dad angry and caused him to complain. He said, "Get me a child, let him have before he dies." Just look at his other friends; almost all of them have grandchildren. He normally gets jealous whenever he sees them and their grandchildren playing like kids in the garden.

I lost my wife early, so since then I have not yet married anyone else. That is what always pains my dad, which is why he always sends girls to seduce me.

I am 40 years old, lost my wife at an early age before she even had a child for me. It’s kind of shy to say my age and that I am not married again, or that I am in a serious relationship, or that I even have a girl I would call my fiancée.

Even when Dad wanted to use someone close to me to advise me to marry, I always turned them down, telling them I was not interested in any of those girls. Sometimes I call them trash because they were just after the money, not love; they were just interested in how much I was going to pay them or how much my dad would pay them.

Don't get it twisted. I have already forgotten about the lost; I was just focusing on my business. So the old man thought that the lost was really affecting me, and when I told him I was not interested, he thought I was. I was not interested in old people, so he began to send young girls to me to seduce me and promise any of them a lot of money, anyone who could seduce me and bear him a child.

But the deal was simple: I have sex with them, pay them off; it was just a one-night stand.

All my dad's efforts to make me marry and bear him a child were just in vain because I was never interested in the ones he normally sent to me.

I looked at the girl who was still lying on my bed, with her lingerie trying to seduce me.

Is this a dream? Am I getting wet in my dreams? Her voice whispered around the room.

I know my dad always sends girls, but why did he send this crazy one? Is she that desperate just to have sex with me?

I tried to reach out with my phone; maybe I should call my secretary or the receptionist. They should throw this trash out.

She should meet my dad, let him pay her the rest of the money he normally pays them whenever he sends them to seduce me.

She looked at me again, feeling sleepy and tired.

How could I lie with someone like this? No way; she is not even up to my standard. I can't lie with her.

But this girl has a body that would turn a man on: her slim waist, her perky breasts, and pointed nose, her fresh laps, her long legs, her grey eyes that sparkle, her long black hair, soft lips that are slightly parted—she is just so beautiful.

Damn it.

I found myself checking her out before I could realize it.

Am I having a wet dream? She curled her lips into a smile.

Did she hit her head when she barged in here? She was naked in my bed, trying to seduce me, and she is behaving as if this were some fantasy.

I ran my hand through my hair. Damn, I didn't want these tonight; I was not ready to have sex or sleep with anyone.

This was a mistake, another mess I didn't want to drag into.

In seconds, I was trying to reach my phone to call my secretary to come and clean this mess and settle her almost amount my dad had promised to pay her.

Before I could take a step, I felt her hands around my waist.

Please don't leave me. This is just a dream, right? This is just a dream. Even in my dreams, they still don't want me. You don't know how useless I would be if you still don't want me in my dreams. How would I be if the man in my dream doesn't want anything to do with me?

I looked at her differently; she was lying on my bed, her face pressed against my abdomen, her hands tightly around my waist. From this angle, her face was close to my hips, dangerously close to where the towel clung to my body.

Her hot breath brushed against my skin, sending an unexpected jolt through me.

Am I not attractive enough for you? Sue pulled her face backward for me to see her face very well—her grey eyes, her shiny skin, her exposing body already showing me the nipple of her breast. Why does no one want me? I am already twenty-three… she whispered as if she was afraid to say the word out loud. And I have not even had a man satisfy me; I had not even come. That asshole was my first, and he had not even satisfied me.

She bit her lips and her fingers; she reached for the towel around my hips. She pulled it down slowly, exposing more of me. Even if it was just a dream, she whispered, I will take it. I have never experienced what pleasure really looks like; I need to know what it looks like.

My gaze darkened. I didn't know whether her words or the fact that despite my frustration—despite every logical word in me screaming to stop—I was getting hard.

Fuck.