His ‘Little’ Obsession Part 1

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*Writers notes: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for clicking on to this post. I hope you love this story as much as I do! If it gets enough support I’ll post Chapter 2. This is the first erotic story I had ever written so it’s practically my baby. If you have any constructive criticism for me, please let me know in the comments.*

*Yours truly,*

*AgreeableTurn.*

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**Chapter 1- Strange Beginnings**

It had started to what i thought was going to be a normal Sunday- me cooking a big meal for the family where me, my mother, my father, my sister, brother, aunt and my dads best friend would come for dinner. It was an occasion that became a tradition after I found a great talent in cooking. Soon, when my little brother was old enough, he would join me. My older sister, however, was a spoilt little brat. So it would be an impossibility she would even lift a finger in any form of work.

However, it wasn’t going to be a normal Sunday and that was all because of my dads best friend, Mark.

He was a single man in his late 30’s that looks as if he could be in his late 20’s. He was a tall man of 6 ft 5 and dark tanned skin, giving a chocolatey appearance. Mark had always got this chiselled sort of beard on his square jaw. But, he was always constantly going from one relationship to another, from one girl to another, or simply sneaking out of multiple girl’s rooms in the space of week. He was a player, and always had been. It would be a complete miracle if he ever settled down. Whatever girl Mark wanted, he would eventually get. Not by rape, of course. He’s not the type of guy to ever go down the dark route. No, my daddy’s best friend was simply a very persuasive and good looking guy with an irresistible charm. I’ll admit, even I flutter my eyes sometimes and dream of the possibility of sleeping with him. Mark was just the type of guy who got what he wanted, I’ve heard rumours that he’s even took my mother and my father knew about it. Of course, that was from overhearing my drunk family friends and relations talking at the gatherings and parties we had.

I have a very large and busy family, with multiple aunties and uncles and cousins and all kinds of relations, and at the end of every month we have a large party so we can all meet up and get together.

Last month’s party was strange, because it evolved around Mark not leaving me alone for most of the night. Now, I know Mark can be odd at occasions, and he flirts with everything with a heart beat, but it’s a rare occasion he’ll ever make such a big performance out of his flirtations with me. Normally it’s the odd comment or hugging me to long and tightly or simply just being strange, but at that party he did way more than cuddling…

I was sat in the living room with my little cousin, taking care of her whilst everyone else was shit faced. It was strange being the taxi for the night, normally we pay for a taxi back home but with work tomorrow, I had to take the night off drinking for once. My little cousin seems happy watching peppa pig and snuggled up in a blanket whilst every other child in this house runs rampant playing hide and seek or some sort of silly game. She’s always been the little loner. Her head falls slightly onto the side of the sofa, and I know straight away that she is asleep.

Finally. I get to watch my own TV. Flicking through all the channels, I try and find the best film I’m in for tonight. Though, it’s kind of hard, Netflix has turned a bit shit. I go for the standard romance, the notebook.

“Classic,” says a familiar voice at the back of the room, “you’re the exact type to watch that soppy stuff.”

I turn round to see Mark, my daddy’s best friend, obviously drunk whilst attempting a smirk made for a god.

I smirk back. “Ah,” I say, “ and what type are you then.”

“Hmm, I’d go for a fifty shades of grey kinda film” he says warmly whilst strolling over to the sofa where I’m sat.

“You’re such a pervert,” I laugh.

“I know.”

So, for a while me and Mark just sit there, watching The Notebook, and I realise that for the duration of this film Mark has been staring at me.

I look back at him quizzically.

“What are you looking at?”

He’s quiet for a minute, and comes up close to my ear saying “You’re just so damn beautiful.”

Now, let me tell you, I’m a 19 year old girl who has never had a guy in her life. I’ve had a few fun nights with some girls, but never a guy. And when you have a very good looking man in his 30’s whispering in your ear with a smouldering voice saying that you’re ‘damn beautiful’, well, it does things to you.

“Right,” I respond slowly, “well, you’re drunk, so I’m going to ignore that comment and suggest you go and join the rest of the family before they come looking for you.”

Then, out of my surprise, he tenderly puts his large hand on my leg, so close to my crotch, and moves it up and down, rubbing my leg. And on the odd occasion his thumb brushes over my sex through my jeans. I could feel my pussy leaking at the feeling, and my god it felt so good, but I needed him to stop. I wanted him to stop, but if I’m honest, I’m a little scared of him. Sometimes his thumb would put pressure on me, teasing me. But I just sat in silence, stiff, and looked down, not daring to look at him in the eyes.

“I think I’m okay here for tonight.”

And that was it. We didn’t say another word to each other for the rest of the night whilst we both watched that soppy film, until poppy- the cousin- woke back up and demanded peppa pig be brought back on the telly. Then, he casually got up as if nothing had happened, and went back to join the rest of the family.

So yeah, that was my strange night with Mark. I haven’t seen him since then, but I’m sure it’ll be strange tonight when I see him at dinner.

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After an hour shopping at the store for all the ingredients I was going to need for tonight’s meal I got home and changed into my comfies, which consisted of a nighty. Not one of those sexy ones from victoria secrets or anything like that. Just a plain, old, cotton nighty with a picture of mickey mouse on.

Starting to walk out of my room, I catch the mirror. I always hated looking at myself, no matter how pretty a girl is she can always find flaws in herself but like every other average girl I still can’t help myself looking. I was by no means an ugly girl, even I can admit that. With probably an average height of 5ft 4 and a lean body with curves in the right places, I did well at high school- popularity wise. I had ample breasts at the most, however, I could never complain about their perkiness and accompanying them was my wavy bright ginger hair. That, without a doubt, caught the attention of most people. And, of course, with my ginger hair came the signature pale skin and dotted freckles all over my heart shaped face. I’ll admit that I’ve always caught the attention of men, and I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve always secretly liked the attention, but none of them have ever caught my eye. I’m not into the pre-teen kind of guy, I guess I’ve just always been attracted to older men.

After getting caught up in myself about my appearance I put the tiniest bit of makeup on for good measure, not that I’d see anyone today, but just to make myself feel better, I head down to start cooking.

I set out into the kitchen to chop all the veggies and meat for tonight’s meal which was going to be a big African chicken stew with jollof rice. And this bloody thing takes all day to cook, so getting up at 8am on a Sunday to go to the store was not a happy time for me.

Suddenly there is a knock at the front door, and I shout for who it is.

“Its Mark! Can you let me in, it’s locked!” he shouts from the front door.

My heart drops. It’s Mark. Of all people to be alone in the house with it has to be Mark!

“Yeah, two seconds!” I shout back, running to my bag to find the keys.

I open the door the see Mark in the doorway, and i see his eyes look down. I look down with him, only to realise I’m still in that little mickey mouse nighty I wear every Sunday. Normally there is nobody in the house on a Sunday, so I don’t have to worry about being under-dressed. Shit. I didn’t think this through.

“Heya Leila, is your dad in, wondering if he wanted to come for a drink?” he said curiously.

See, the strange thing is, Mark knows very well that my daddy and mommy go shopping on Sundays to Manchester for her work, so he knows that my dad wouldn’t be in.. right? However, I think nothing of it and say, “Oh, no my daddy and mommy go shopping on Sundays remember?”

“Oh gosh, yeah! Sorry kiddo, my memory has been everywhere lately, I can tell I’m getting old!” he laughs.

“Well, how about you come in and I’ll make you a tea.” I say, opening the door for Mark and letting him in.

“Mmm, what you cooking? It smells delicious!” he asks, sniffing the air dramatically as if he were a dog of some kind.

“Oh, you know that African stew I’ve been going on about for ages? Yeah, I’m making that, so it should be good!”

We go into the kitchen were all my food is dotted around ready to be cut. I move some out of the way of the kettle and set to make Mark a drink.

“So, how are you doing?” I say, whilst making Marks drink as he sits at the kitchen counter.

I reach up to the cupboard above me to get some sugar, which was quite higher than I expected it to be. I could feel my butt being slightly exposed to the air.

I heard Mark cough slightly behind me and say “Yeah, yeah I’m doing good. Telling you what though, that party last week had me ruined. I can hardly remember the last parts of that night. Had the worst hangover the next day,” he said, jokingly.

His reference to the last parts of that night made my heart drop. Why was he bringing that up now?

“Yeah, you were pretty out of it Mark!” I say, trying to halt that conversation topic.

I go to the fridge to get Mark his milk, and bend down into the fridge to reach for it.

I hear a cough again from mark behind me.

“Is something wrong Mark? You sound as if you’ve got a sore throat?” I turn round and say, only to notice a rather large bump coming from his trousers.

He laughs a little awkwardly before saying, “No, no. Just a little tickle in my throat. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Though I can’t quite put my finger on it, there is something strange in is words. However, I ignore it, continuing to chop the vegetables and fry the chicken legs.

Slowly, Mark comes and stands next to me, leaning on the kitchen counter top and drinking his tea.

“I wanted to apologise for the other week,” he says suddenly, and my body stills to his words, “I acted stupid and reckless, I know I was drunk and that isn’t an excuse to behave that way.”

I continue cooking, trying to come up with some response to his openness. Think Leila! Think, think, think!

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Is all I say. I’m pathetic.

I reach up again into the cupboard to get some OXO cubes, feeling my nighty ride up my ass slightly. Then, I feel a little brush on my right butt cheek, and I know it was him.

“But, I do have to wonder..” Mark says slowly, nearing towards me, “why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Shit. What is with all his questioning today? I start to flush, remembering that night. Yes, I was turned on about it, but it didn’t mean I wanted anything done about it!

“Umm…” I say, struggling to come up with a resemblance of an answer, “I guess I just didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Trouble for what? Calling you damn beautiful?” He says immediately, shifting slightly more towards me.

I flush again, and I must look like a red balloon to him. “N-no. Well yes… It’s not something family do to each other Mark.”

He inches closer to me, and this time he is so close I can feel his breath on my ear.

“Family? What, because I’m like your daddy?” He whispers in my ear, and I swear my pussy literally flooded at his words.

I try to step away from him and make an excuse to needing the toilet but he grabs hold of my wrist and says, “Don’t you dare walk away when I’m speaking to you.” He pulls me back towards him, wrags my hands around my back, holds them with one hand and bends me over the kitchen counter. I whelp at his force.

“You’ve always been a fucking itch in my crotch Leila. I’ve tried so many times to flirt with you so you’d eventually come to me, but you never fucking did. So, I’m going to take you my way Leila, whether you like it or not.” He growls in my ear, and knocks my legs apart.

I start to cry. I’m so shocked and scared by his words that I my eyes flood, and tears stream down my cheeks, but they won’t stop.

“P-please Mark-k, don’t do thi-this to me” I say, with a slight hiccup in my voice.

He smacks my ass so hard, and I scream.

“Number one, don’t you dare tell me what to do. Number two, it’s not Mark, it’s Sir to you slut.” He growls again and as he does, he lifts my nighty over my head so I can’t see.

And even though I’m panicking and trembling at his words my pussy still manages to flood with need.

“Ah, look at this beautiful ass. And guess what slut? I’m going to fuck this ass today.” He says and slightly rubs his hands over my panties.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Someone is dripping for me.” He says and smacks my ass again.

“PLEASE, please M-Mark just stop! I’ll do anything!” I say, as I struggle furiously to get out of his grip, but its like iron.

He smacks my ass again and grabs my hair in his hands, twisting it up so that I’m facing him.

“What’s my name, slut?” He asks calmly.

I don’t answer and instead I sob a pathetic “Please.”

“I SAID WHAT’S MY NAME, SLUT!” He shouts, gripping my hair even harder and I cry.

“Sir.” I whisper in shame, my face flooding red with embarrassment.

“That’s right.” He growls as he drags me to the front door where a large duffle bag is present. I must have never noticed him bring it in. He shoves me onto the floor, and before I could get away, he reaches into his bag, grabs some rope and is on me before I could lift a foot.

Mark acts quickly at tying my wrists behind my back, making it impossible for me to escape.

“Now slut,” he says gently, “If we do this nicely, and you follow my exact instructions, this could be extremely pleasurable for you as it will be for me,” then he growls and grabs my hair even tighter and says, “If not, it will only be pleasurable for one person in this room.”

After a few seconds of me not saying anything, he prompts me. “Now, what do we say slut.”

I cry slightly whilst the words are forced out of my lips, “Yes, sir.”

I look down, not wanting to see into his eyes.

“Good girl.” He says gently, and for some strange reason that warms me up inside.

Then, suddenly, he picks me up in his arms and carries me to the kitchen counter table, bending me over it and ripping my panties away from my body.

I feel his big finger slightly go backwards and forwards in a sweeping motion over my dripping pussy lips, then he takes his finger and licks it right in front of my face.

“See, most girls have either a tangy or a salty taste, but you… you taste sweet.” Then, he puts his fingers under my chin, lifting my head ever so gently and kisses me, letting me taste my own juice.

I kiss him back, somehow feeling a kind of love in his affection, compared to the brutality he showed me only moments ago.

“See,” he whispers against my lips, “I can be nice.”

Then, in one sudden movement, he turns me around, lifts me so I’m sitting on the counter top and kisses me forcefully with so much need it fills me with warmth inside. He moves across my face to my neck, then down my chest, leaving little gentle kisses as he travels downwards to my breasts. With my right nipple in front of him, he kisses it slightly before putting his whole lips around it and sucking it furiously. As if on some automatic spring, my chest jerks forward at the sensation and my head falls back with my mouth wide open accompanied by a strange sound escaping it. Mark finishes tormenting my right breast with a little bite on my nipple, then he slowly kisses his way to my left breasts mirroring the torments he gave to my right breast.

“See, you want me, don’t you Leila? Your body, your skin is all reacting the way it would if you wanted me. Tell me Leila. Tell me you want me.” He whispers gently in my ear.

And as much as my mind wanted to say no to this infatuation, as much as I didn’t want him to win this forceful taking of me- I wanted him. As clear as day, I wanted him on top of me, taking me. I had wanted the thought of it for years now, but had always been too afraid to act upon it.

“Yes,” I whisper, “I want you, Sir.”

And just like that, he lifts me up, walks to the wall and leans me on it, whilst slowly entering himself into my untouched womanhood. I feel his large 8” cock slowly enter me, stretching my innocent pussy wide.

“This is going to hurt, my sweet.” He says affectionately, looking into my eyes.

“I know.” I squeak quietly in response, with a slight tear rolling down my face.

Then, ever so gently, he pushes through my entrance, right into my womb. I cry in pain at the intrusion, filling me all the way to the brim.

“It’s okay,” he comforts me, nursing my head with affection, “I’ll let it settle for a moment before I move.”

And he does, he waits for me to give a nod of approval before he continues to move again, at which when given, he moves at a gentle pace, stroking slowly in and out of me. Like two lovers making sweet love. Though we weren’t lovers, he was my daddy’s best friend forcing me into sex.

The thought quickly escapes my mind as Marks pace increases, his slight strokes fast turning into slight pounding, then into straight up fucking. And I’ll admit, that awful burning sensation from earlier had dissipated into a throbbing pleasure.

Then, suddenly, Mark starts to walk to the stairs and into my room. He throws me onto my large queen sized bed, and rearranges the ties on my hands so that both of my wrists are attached to my bed frame. He then reaches into the back pocket of his ripped jeans, which he still has on with his large, dark cock standing proud among them, and pulls out a black ribbon. He leisurely walks towards me and lifts my head gently, making quick work of tying the black ribbon around my face so it covers my eyes.

And with my vision, the world went dark.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9i8c83/his_little_obsession_part_1