"I cannot trust a man to control others who cannot first control himself"
-Robert Edward Lee
Control. I've never had it. Since the death of the Crackwhore, my adoption courtesy of my mother and father, and the arrival of my sister Mia. As far back as I can remember, I have never had control of my life.
As I move pieces of wood and rubble from one side of the Lincoln yard to the other I stare at the enormous house and think about the act of control itself, who I could control, what I could control. But to truly understand control, one must first be controlled. I hear the faint click of a lock behind me and watch the sliding glass doors slide open. A beautiful blonde woman, with legs halfway to heaven, saunters her way out of the sliding glass doors in a very sexy manner carrying two glasses filled of pink liquid on a silver tray.
"Lemonade?" Mrs. Lincoln says in a very sensual voice.
Woah. I try. Really try to keep eye contact with her, but she is dressed in nothing but her swimsuit and she might as well have flashing lights and arrows pointing down to her surgically enlarged chest.
"My, my, you're quite the 15 year old, very big for your age." Her eyes flash down to my shoes and all the way up my sweat covered body. I'm not wearing a shirt however I am wearing a pair of tattered up jeans that are slightly too big on me.
"Yes mam." Is all I am able to say I am stunned by this woman before me she's nearly as tall as me in her 5-inch heels and her legs, Christ! Breathe, Grey. She's just a pretty woman from a pretty house with a very pretty marriage certificate. She's off the market. But as soon as I come to terms with this, the woman bends over and sets the tray down. Hello! I began to feel myself stiffening up. I really need to get a grip before I get a full fledged hard-on in front of the boss' wife. Before I can stop myself from appraising her very delectable behind, she rises back up. I immediately look at a nearby tree.
"Admiring the view, boy?" She asks me, knowing good and well that the tree wasn't the only trunk I was admiring.
Before I can even think of a lie she strikes me across the face. Hard! "What the f-" I'm cut off from my swearing by her finger on my lips
"Shh." She whispers. She picks up the glass of lemonade from the tray and takes a long sip. And then, without warning my face is in her hands and her lips are on mine. Sweet, tangy liquid washes it's way down my throat. Lemonade. A part of me is outraged! The audacity of this woman! She assaults my face and then somehow deems it okay to kiss me afterwards! But then… the other part, the control-needing, hormone-having, fucked up Christian wants this. Needs this. I slowly ease my hands onto her tan, slim waist and before I can pull her closer she pulls away tears out of my grasp and slaps me. Again!
"You will touch me when I tell you to touch me. Understand?"
Her comment is not what shocks me. My response is what shocks me. I'm nodding my head eagerly, without hesitation.
"Speak!" She glares at me
"Yes" I respond hoarsely.
"'Yes' what?!" She shouts sternly.
"Yes, mam."
She picks up her glass from the silver tray and puts it in my hand.
"It's hot. Drink all of it." she commands in a calmer more sensual voice.
"Yes, mam." I reply obediently for the sake of my face.
She picks up the tray and slowly strides her way back towards the house. Before going in she turns and looks at me.
"It's Christian, isn't it."
"Yes, mam." I call back to her.
"Come back tomorrow. Same time…" She looks me over once more and stops at my pants. "Same jeans."
And with that she goes in closes the sliding glass doors and clicks the lock.
What. The. Fuck.
At around 5 o'clock Mr. Lincoln walks in through the back gate. "It's looking pretty good back here, Christian." He smiles and waves.
"Thank you, sir." I've cleared most of the rubble out of the yard now and into the barrels. After the uh… lemonade break, I decided it was best to just keep moving don't think too much about it. Just keep moving. So most of the work was done absent-mindedly.
"Was it hard?" He asks me in a semi-concerned voice on the way inside the house.
Well, might as well be honest. "Yes sir, it got pretty hard for a while." And your wife is to blame.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get use to it after a while." He waves at me once more before stepping inside of the house and locking the door.
"I certainly hope so." I say to myself as I take off my gloves, shove them in my pockets, and head home.
* Hey guys thank you so much for reading really hope you enjoyed.
X
~Scarlett