Kim was bored. In fact, she had been bored for the past few years. Rushing through college life in three years instead of four had put a stopper on the boredom admittedly, especially given the sorority she'd been a part of. But now she spent her days relaxing at home or catching up with friends, her cushy lifestyle funded by her high-flying father's job in banking.
She sat at her dresser, and wondered how things had come to this.
***
You see, it had all started off when, a few weeks after graduating, she'd been bored into action and decided to get a tattoo. The tramp stamp had gotten her all excited for a week or so, sure, but even if her parents were at home frequently they'd never know about it. Then came the nose ring. That had gotten her a reaction, and the names her socialite mother had called her did things for her that she was surprised about.
It was only six months ago when she'd finally had her tattoo sleeve finished that she knew for sure. She had came home straight away and stripped in front of the mirror in her walk-in closet. The girl that looked back at her was a far cry from high school or even college Kim. Curves filled out her 5'4" frame in all the right places, and her pert B-cup tits only highlighted her toned ass. Thick dark hair contrasted perfectly against her lightly-tanned skin, and her pussy moistened as she fantasised how someone could walk in and see her so exposed.
She shook her head and got changed into a tank top and shorts before going back to the bedroom proper and falling back onto the silk sheets of her king size bed, waiting out the hours until her parents deigned her with their presence at dinner.
When her Mom called her name from downstairs, Kim's heart fluttered and she anxiously padded downstairs, both apprehensive and anticipative of what her parents would say this time. She strolled into the dining room and sat down to eat, trying to keep the impassive look on her face.
When they asked her what the hell she'd done, she calmly told them, "I got another tattoo."
When they told her she'd ruined her chance at a career, she bit back, "If tattoos are going to stop me, what the hell stopped you?" at her Mom, trying and partly failing to keep the contempt out of her voice.
When they told her she looked like a slut though, her words failed her. Emboldened by her lack of response, they dug in like hyenas around prey. Little did they know, the more they described how much of an object she looked like, how little men would respect her, how much she had degraded herself, the more her pussy quivered. A red flush bloomed across her cheeks, which her parents mistook for her anger, and so when she abruptly stood up and excused herself, they acquiesced, thinking that she'd go to mull their words over in her room.
Instead, Kim bounded back to her room and slammed her door, falling onto the bed as she threw her clothes off. One hand pinched and pulled at her rock hard nipples and the other snaked its way down in-between her legs, running over her wet snatch. She traced circles around her clit and envisioned a faceless man having his way with her in a dark alley, his rough and callused hands roaming over her soft skin.
She plunged a finger, then two, inside herself, and fervently frigged herself as the faceless man in her fantasy pushed her against the wall, the cold brickwork rubbing up against her, and used her to get himself off. She could almost feel his veiny cock sawing in and out of her, how she tried and failed to get a hold the wall to push back onto his thrusting member.
She imagined him pushing two fingers into her mouth, coating them in her own saliva, before easing them in-between her ass cheeks and pushing against the ring of muscle hidden there that she'd never given anyone access to before.
His breath was rough and his grunts tingled in her ear as he tongued her earlobe, the stubble on his chin rubbing at her neck. When his fingers slipped past her asshole, she came, stifling a scream and seeing stars, the orgasm like an out of body experience. Her body tensed up so hard that thoughts of having to fight off a cramp flew through her head. The few seconds she spent frozen there with her ass hovering above the bed felt like a small eternity, and when she could finally breathe again her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest.
She lay there, basking in the afterglow and revelling in how dirty a place her mind had taken her, knowing that she'd awoken something deep and dark inside herself. An ocean of lust with currents that would take her further and further from the safety of land.
***
Kim shook her head free from her recollections and finished applying her lipgloss before she spritzed on some setting spray. The memory did nothing for the excitement she felt at what she had planned today.
Ever since that first orgasm, she had slowly and subtly progressed in her daring. In front of her street-facing bedroom window in the middle of the day, stealing away one of her Dad's thick leather belts and swatting her rear till it was red, once she had even came while on the phone with a random takeaway three states over, getting the flustered pizzeria worker to call her a slut. She was fast turning any situation that got her heart racing into a masturbatory session.
It had gotten to the point where even what she was going to do today was beginning to lose the edge that she was craving.
Checking her phone, she realised that she had time to make a quick coffee before the show got on the road.
The afternoon sun was beginning to set on the affluent suburban streets she called home. Slinking her way into the kitchen downstairs, Kim decided to get in a few minutes' reading while the coffee machine slowly dripped away. She continued reading once the coffee was done, opting to take a little rest before she began preparation in earnest.
As had happened many times before, she lost track of time while engrossed in her ebook. Moonlight was beginning to make its presence known outside by the time Kim woke from her readathon, and she downed the last dregs of her now cold coffee before moving to clean up after herself. She stopped, tilting her head at the wooden clothespins they used to keep their coffee bean packs closed, an idea forming in her head.
She heard the doorbell ring, and decided to go for it. She grabbed the clothespin and stuffed the pack in the pantry, tearing another off her Mom's preferred pack. It's not like it'll go off in a few hours she surmised. Kim ran upstairs and got to work.
**********
Grant bounded up the stairs to the front of the house, bottle of whiskey in hand. He yawned as he waited for Frank to open the door, praising his current girlfriend's depraved desires for the lack of sleep he was now suffering. Frank opened up, grinning as he greeted him.
"Oh hoo Grant, nice of you to show up!"
"Maybe if you told your wife to stop hanging around at my place after she stays the night, old man, I'd actually make it on time for once," riposted Grant, a shit-eating grin beaming past the brown stubble that mired his comparatively younger face.
"If only you were as quick on the trades as you are with the jokes, kiddo. Maybe then we'd be able to play for big money," said Frank, turning sideways to let him in, patting his back and leading him to the back of the house, where Frank knew the rest of their little Poker group would be gathered.
When he was promoted a year ago, he was finally invited to join the inner circle of bankers that his good friend Frank had been a part of. Grant knew that Frank had held off on asking him to join before the promotion simply as a way of giving him something to work for. After all, he thought, at some point making more money just loses its shine.
He still remembered that first game when, new to the game, he'd demanded them all to raise the buy-ins and play no-limit Hold'em, bewildered at why they were playing for tens of dollars instead of hundreds or even thousands.
It had only taken him twenty eight minutes and a cool fifty thousand dollars to realise that the bigger the price, the bigger the fall. If I wasn't as headstrong as I am, I'd never have shown up again, he thought.
When he got to the man-cave-come-mini-casino tucked away at the back of Frank's sprawling home, he couldn't help thinking how right he was.
"Well if it isn't ED! It's not like you to be the last one to cum at all!" Came Mark's sarcasm-laden greeting.
"Leave off Mark, you're just pissed that you didn't close the Pharma sale." Steve said coming to his aid. Standing up to wrap him in a hug, Steve's huge hand clapped his back and made Grant feel like someone had just taken a sledgehammer to it.
"Oof, thanks big gu-"
"Besides, he was probably just switching out his girl for this month's newest model," Steve ribbed.
Grant just feigned a look of hurt as he walked over to the bar and added the bottle he'd brought to the shelf, before pouring himself a double and sitting back on one of the Chesterfield couches that formed a half circle around the fireplace.
He took advantage of the lull in conversation to take in the refined elegance that only the man-cave of an older man could radiate. From his position, with his back to the corner of shelves full of books that Frank had actually probably read and the giant pedestal desk, Grant's gaze wandered over the herringbone-patterned solid wood floor, to the behemoth of a fireplace that gave off a warm orange glow, and across the panelled walls that displayed artfully curated abstract pieces.
On the other side of the room, a Persian rug flowed under a casino table, the soft glow of the ornamental bulbs that were strung around the bar behind it bouncing off its lacquered edges.
"Every time we play here Frank, I'm amazed at how such a classless man could design such a classy hideout."
