Release

by Suzanne Clay

For me. It took years of pain and healing, but we rediscovered our passion for writing after all. Let’s keep going.

Being useful suited her. It gave her a purpose whenever her mind grew too busy and her body too antsy.

On nights like this, Danielle knew she wasn't going to get through the rest of the week unfucked.

"If you don't tell me what you need, then you don't get to play," he murmured.

It was a peculiar blend of knowing she was being a good girl like he needed, while also recognizing that her own ecstasy was paramount in this moment.

She was at the Cherry Street glory hole, and she'd just gotten exactly what she needed: an anonymous fuck with a stranger willing to use her as a sleeve for his cock.

But deep in her soul, she hated being even a momentary disappointment, and with each heartbeat as she climbed the long flight of stairs, the poisonous anxiety continued to spread inky black through her veins.

Normally she'd be offering to make Mr. Hughes his second cup of coffee of the day. He'd decline, then make it himself. They'd fall into a comfortable rhythm, where she brought him things he needed before he even asked. And he might not look at her when he thanked her, but she'd bloom under his quiet regard all the same.

Time slowed to a grinding halt. The first encounter after an awkward moment with someone was the worst, one that caused her physical pain. Rejection sensitive dysphoria, she believed it was called.

If she stood here for another moment without being punished for her wardrobe slip, she'd claw her eyes out.

He had such large, lovely hands, with calloused fingertips that whispered of all those years he devoted simply to craftsmanship. It didn't seem possible that they could be so massive and yet so gentle at the same time.

If she wasn't useful, then she wasn't good.

His stare was so potent that she couldn't hold it.

"It's rude to answer a question with a question." Mr. Hughes sat more forward. In an instant, he wasn't the quiet, methodical owner of a flourishing business. He was the boardroom executive that would shoot it straight to the top. He had all the power in his hands, and he wasn't afraid to show it. "I believe you have more manners than that, Miss Higgs."

"And I know, because I was there."

I'm required to give you a safe, ethical workspace where you never feel like we have an inappropriate power balance. And I steamrolled over that yesterday with one mistake."

"And, as a grown fucking woman, I can decide who I want to sleep with. And, if they're a grown adult, they can choose if they want to do the same thing."

"Please, sir."

There's not really anything particularly interesting about me, is there? She traced a senseless pattern over her couch cushion. Do I even have passions?

Danielle Higgs's favorite thing was to please whoever her favorite person was at that moment in time. And for three years now, that had been Victor Hughes.

She would've been delighted to have him pound her pussy any time he wanted.

Though she'd accepted it long ago, she was forced to reckon with the fact that everything became easier after she'd been fucked senseless at the glory hole.

Don't you want to be a good girl?

Mr. Hughes didn't seem to understand that he was a desirable, sexy man worth bending over for.

She didn't want to return to those age old days of not knowing why she wasn't enough for someone who purportedly wanted her.

No one knew that the sweet but isolated Danielle Higgs adored her time of being a slutty hole.

She knew she enjoyed being useful. She wanted to be good, pleasurable, and satisfactory.

She loved feeling well-fucked and used.

"I'm a simple woman who's easy to please, Mr. Hughes. I don't need anything else in my life but an uncomplicated way to satisfy my sexual needs."

It had been quite a while since she tasted hope; she'd forgotten how clean and delicious it was on her tongue.

you will not neglect your own personal needs in an effort to see to mine. If you see that I'm as hard as diamonds, but you haven't taken the time to eat, rest, or care for yourself, then you are not obligated to put my desire before your own necessities. And if I catch you doing so, I will be strict with you." Danielle wasn't sure she'd ever been so called out.

"Let me be frank with you, Miss Higgs. I'm only interested in how wet you are if the rest of you has also been tended to."

You are more important than that."

And me, on my knees between your legs, opening your belt.

I'd appreciate you selecting something I can pound my pussy with."

"I could give you a pillow to kneel on.

It was frankly remarkable how calm she could become with a cock in her mouth.

A man shouldn’t know the exact words to say that both unsettled and delighted her.

If I don't get my cock inside you today, then I don't know how the hell I'm going to make it through the rest of the week."

He could soak the back of her shirt in his cum, for all she cared. She'd walk to her car looking like the slut she always wanted to be, covered in him, and she'd love every second of it.

"Do you want to be ruined?" she asked. He licked his lips. His thumb drew a slow circle on her inner thigh before he replied. "By you? Yes. Absolutely."

"I only bite good girls who understand their own worth."

He really had no idea how potent those words were, both praise and chastising all mixed in a dizzying cocktail.

Mr. Hughes kissed her shoulder instead. "Bad girls get fucked until they can't put ...

"You're perfect." He couldn't just say things like that.

"I've got you, Danielle."

"Go home. Do something relaxing. Don't make me scold you for being bad."

"Us having things we're struggling with doesn't make us unworthy of being loved. You know that, right?"

"If this man wants to romance you, please, please let him. If you're having trouble figuring out if he cares about you for more than your body, ask him."

"If I ask him if he likes me, then that means he has room to say no."