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Dominate Me Book 5
A. X. Foxx
Copyright 2016: A. X. Foxx
All rights reserved. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
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Lustful Lovers is a standalone short story featuring a dominating alpha male and a single submissive young white women.
This story contains scenes of public humiliation and submission, BDSM, voyeurism, and exhibitionism. If hardcore sex, bondage, and public humiliation aren't your thing, then this may not be the book for you.
The loud beats that the DJ was playing felt oddly out of place in the mostly empty club. The flashing disco light gave it a lively vibe that wasn't felt in any way by the patrons, who just wanted a nice place to have their dinners.
Without a crowd to fuel the enthusiasm that was evidently present in excess in the hired DJ, the ambience fell flat. The dance floor was painfully abandoned and even the dancers hired to get people in the mood had given up and were nursing their drinks at the bar. In their defense, they had been trying to get us to join them for the past half hour to no avail.
It was a Friday night and by all reasoning, the club should be busy and alive. Instead, the opposite seemed to be happening. They had a good DJ, reasonably priced drinks, and attractive dancers. Yet, there were barely twenty people in the entire club.
"What're you thinking about?" James asked, distracting me from my daydream.
I turned to him. James was my blind date for the night. He was nice to look at, as the pictures promised, which was a nice surprise. I had heard stories about how people use fake photos for dating profiles.
Sadly, there wasn't much to like about him beyond that. His glasses were thick and he looked too prim and proper, for lack of a better word. I couldn't help but think there was something wrong with him. Nobody was that good looking with a good job while still being single without a deep dark secret.
It took me a moment to realize he was staring expectantly at me, waiting for me to answer his question.
"I- I umm... I was just wondering why the club's so empty," I answered honestly.
He looked around and nodded. "That is odd," he said, but said nothing beyond that. He wasn't doing much to add to the conversation. In fact, he had been shutting down all forms of small talk the entire time. I started finding excuses to leave.
He stood up suddenly and for a fleeting, horrifying moment, I wondered if he was going to ask me to dance with him. Then, he turned his attention towards the bathroom and disappeared without a word.
I sighed. What an odd person.
I had given up on my own plate. The salad was limp and soggy. It tasted like someone had been mistakenly store into the freezer instead of the fridge, and then hastily placed inside a microwave to correct the mistake. It was soaked in dressing to hide it's sad state, but even a three star Michelin chef couldn't save salad that was no longer fresh.
The blind date wasn't going as well as I had hoped. After months of staying in the apartment, pining after a man who obviously didn't care enough for me to call back after I packed my bags and stormed off, I thought I would break my dateless, lonely nights with an exciting date.
Instead, I got myself on a date that was starting to make my dateless, lonely nights that much more enticing. I really should've stayed home.
He looked interesting enough on the website. James Mogen, 32-year-old banker. According to his profile, he enjoyed good food, video games and Science Fiction movies. Most important of all, he identified as a dominant in bed. I wasn't looking at sleeping with him on the first date, but I mistakenly assumed he would have a better personality out of bed. Maybe he didn't get what being a dominant means. I doubt he was good at giving instructions since I saw him removing peas from his dish instead of telling the waiter he didn't want them in his dish.
It was the little things he did or rather, didn't do, that gave away his personality.
I bet he was the type of guy that thought bossing women around in bed without caring about their enjoyment meant he was being dominant.
He was probably also the type to demand blowjobs and then not return the favor.
The more I mulled over what a horrible date he was, the less I was inclined to stay in my seat.
I glanced at my food, then at the exit. One of them was a lot more inviting than the other.
Should I make a run for it now, or after he returns?
"Sorry about that," James said and made my decision for me.
I let out the breath I didn't realize I had been holding. It was rude to just leave without saying goodbye but I was so close to freedom without the awkwardness. I should've left when I had the chance.
"I had a call that I needed to take," he said. I was pretty sure there was no call. Maybe he was as desperate to leave as I was. I wondered if there was an exit through the toilet. I wasn't looking forward to telling him I wanted to leave.
"It's okay," I sighed, pushing my salad around.
He frowned, but didn't say anything.
I pushed my salad around a little more before making up my mind to leave. "Listen, I should probably head home. It's getting pretty late," I said.
"Let me walk you out," he said, pulling out his wallet to pay for the meal.
"Oh, it's no problem. Enjoy the rest of your dinner," I insisted, picking up my handbag to pay my half of the bill. I stood up. I wanted to turn tail and run but remained cool and composed as I walked out of the club.