Diary Of An Obsession Ch 02

Leo's first thoughts after reading Ana's long, graphic and incredibly detailed first sexual encounter with Sergei was, 'is this real or a figment of her imagination?"

One might think he was in a full denial stage. Oh, he knew it, but he couldn't think any other way. After all, jumping to conclusions wasn't always a wise approach.

His train of thought was driven by the fact that, other than the diary entry, nothing in their relationship had changed in the last day or so. Life went on as normal. Her behavior was exactly the same. They even had some really good sex that night.

Her diary entry was much safer and easier to deal with if he believed it was just an erotic story. First, because he could still not believe that old, fat guy was that great of a lover. Secondly, because it was so fucking hot, and it turned him on way, way too much.

And here's the kicker. If this was real, she would have made the old guy use protection. Right? She stopped her contraceptive months ago when they talked about having children, or so he thought. She wouldn't take the chance of having that guy's child.

Also, she doesn't know this guy from Adam. He could have any number of diseases. Nope. There's just no way a smart woman like Ana would take that risk.

And finally, because he had a one-day, out-of-town training session to go to, he couldn't leave if he knew his marriage was in trouble. So, he was fully embedded in stage one thinking. For now.

———

Diary Entry — June 19th (5 p.m.)

Leo went on his training trip, and I managed to stay away from Him for the whole day. I had to get work done anyway. Work might just put him out of my mind for a while. Plus, I couldn't let my desire for him ruin my career. I had work product to complete.

But how do you forget the greatest sex of your life? I mean, I passed out from the fucking he gave me! Twice! Who can forget that?

So, I put our affair on hold. And yes, I said 'our affair,' but not 'love affair." I don't love him. I don't think, although I do feel a deeper physical connection with him than with any other man, including Leo.

Poor Leo. We made love that night, and it was so mild by comparison. All I could think about during it was how much I wish it had been Him instead. It's not just the huge difference in size. He is just so masterful, so powerful.

Although I will never know what being a heroin junkie is like, I might now have an inkling. My physical need for his touch and that incredible explosive orgasm is an ache that dominates my thinking.

And yes, Dear Diary, I know what this is. I get what I'm doing. I know that in some way he represents the grandfather I could never please. From the time I was born, everyone in my family doted on me and paid lavish attention to me except one person — my Didus.

He was a strange man on his best days — my paternal grandfather. He never smiled. He never laughed. He never hugged anyone. He only spoke with his sons. He was certainly a misogynist and may well have been a misanthrope for all I know.

He sure didn't care for his adorable little granddaughter. He barely ever looked at me. I was just a girl and of very little value. He never once recognized my existence, and oh, I tried. I was my cutest around him. I beamed at him. Fetched him things. I did anything I could to please him, but with no success at all.

So yeah, I get that having a man that age, like Him, wanting my like that, pursuing me, was exhilarating. And I also know that I should not have done anything about it, yet I don't know if I could have stopped it.

Anyway, it's too late for that kind of thinking. I'm well in it now. However, today I'm avoiding Him. Two reasons: my pussy is sore, and I want to see what he'll do. More the second one.

———

Leo had time to think in two Ubers, in an airport and on a plane. Now, he sat alone in his hotel room trying not to think, but it wasn't easy. His mind kept coming back worriedly to his wife.

He couldn't remember what exactly that hot British relationship expert had said, so he went back to YouTube and watched it again. It seems that many women have unrealistic expectations of marriage today. That made sense, of course. A lot has changed in the last 50 years or so since the sexual revolution began.

Women today believe they can have it all — a great marriage, a great family, and a great job. A great life, really. When that doesn't happen, like the police, they look first to the spouse as the perpetrator of the crime. So, they either initiate a divorce, or they act like men in that situation and start having an affair.

Well, Leo certainly didn't want a divorce, so what could he do? The choices included confronting her and confessing where he got his information. That sounded a lot like the divorce option.

Another was trying to 'accidentally' catch her in the act, or even something more active. He could hire someone to follow her like in some old film noir movie. Or ... he could do what spouses have done for thousands of years and do nothing, hoping that it would blow over in time.

If this was real, he decided to do that ... for now.

———

Diary Entry — June 20th (1 a.m.)

Ok, remember when I said I would avoid him? It didn't really work. Right after I wrote that, I went downstairs to check the mail as I always do. As He knows I always do.

The little mouse fell right into the cat's trap. Or rather the cat pounced on the unsuspecting mouse and dragged her into some kind of janitor's closet. There wasn't much room in there as it's about the size of a half bath with just a sink and some shelves.

He did, however, make a statement. He picked me up by my ass and slammed my back into the closed door. My legs came up and wrapped around him as we kissed. Boy, did we kiss. It was like he was on a deserted island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and I was a glass of water.

I could not tell you who started the kiss, but it did not matter. The moment was sweet and intense and perfect. In fact, it was glorious. His hand came up behind my head, and we began with soft gentle nips , followed by a deeper passionate kiss as our tongues dancing together.

"Miss me?" I giggled.

"Shut up and kiss me," He said, and I didn't argue. I kissed him with all the passion in my soul. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him.

"Come up to my apartment," I said into his mouth.

"No. You come downstairs," He said back into mine.

I didn't want to go back to that damn filthy mattress when I had a nice clean bed upstairs. "It's OK. My husband is out of town."

"I don't care. My rule is you come to me."

"Rule? But why?"

"I work here, you stupid girl. What would happen if I get caught in apartment with horny little married shlyukha? If I am just seen coming and going all night? Then you scream my name for neighbors to hear. I am fired."

"Are you afraid of Leo?" I asked incredulously. No one is afraid of Leo!

"No," he laughed longer and louder than was appropriate. "I fuck girls like you in front of husband many, many times."

"Many times?"

"Little KGB game. No big deal."

It sure sounded like a big deal to me, but I dropped it for now. "It's dirty down there," I said. "Come up to the apartment."

"You don't like Funland?"

"I thought you said it was Playland. Is it Playland or Funland?" I was amused that he couldn't even remember the name of such a well-used place.

"Why does it matter as long as you get turn on Big Cock Ride?"

Being so close to him, I could see every aspect of his face — his scraggly beard, his bulbous nose, his acne scars, his yellow teeth. Everything about him should repel me, but it does just the opposite.

"It's dirty and disgusting down there. Come up!" I said the last with excitement, like there was fun upstairs, too.

"No. You come down. I like you dirty."

I was getting annoyed. My life is filled with stubborn, clueless men. "Put me down."

"No. Now you're mad at me, and I never drop girls when they're mad at me."

"I didn't say drop me, I said put me down."

"You want me to fuck you, so you will come down to me," his voice took on that dominant tone as He looked me in the eye. "Do you understand, malyshonuk?"

He gets me when he's in charge, and He's already figured that out. Shit.

"I don't like it down there," I pouted.

He smiled. "Oh, you liked it! You liked it a lot."

"You're being mean," I said, still pouting.

His jaw got suddenly tight, and his hand came up to grab my chin. I jerked away from it. Not far of course, because his other hand was holding me up. So, that big meaty hand caught my chin eventually and forced me to look directly in his eyes.

"You will learn soon enough, malyshonuk, who is the boss. You will do as I tell you. Come down to me tonight. Do you understand?"

I wasn't scared exactly. Maybe I should have been, but I didn't feel in danger. He was doing what our dog trainer used to call 'showing his energy.' He was training me to be his bitch.

"Yes."

"Good. Don't make me wait long."

I had a few things to do, so it took me almost an hour to get out of my place. I grabbed a sandwich to sustain myself, just in case we went on for hours.

Once again, I wore a bikini and beach wrap, a yellow one this time. Going to the pool still seemed like a good cover story. Anyway, I always liked the way my body feels and moves in a micro-bikini. It's the next best thing to being naked.

Minutes later, as I stood at the top of those basement stairs looking down that long dark passageway, I had the sensation you get during those last few moments on a roller coaster when you're about to go from up to down the first time. As I took that initial step down, my stomach began to accelerate at a speed well past that of the rest of my trembling body.

And then, I could not have stopped myself if I wanted to. The centrifugal force was just too great. My brain was manic for Him, and my body needed Him like a fix of dope.

The rest of that trip deep into the womb of the building was like an outer-body experience. I felt excitement for the woman as she walked toward her obsession. I also felt a twinge of shame and sadness. She had a good husband, and she had a good life.

Still, she was bored with it. Completely bored. I could see how this one thing wrapped her in excitement greater than it ought to because of extreme ennui. And again, I felt excitement for her.

The sharp knock on the metal door woke me from my reverie. It was my knock and it reverberated throughout my body.

"COME!"

I turned the door knob and slipped in like a thief trying to make a stealthy entrance. Inside, the light seemed even dimmer than before. He was sitting at his desk in his usual dirty overalls open to the navel giving me a hungry look. How does he make slovenly look so attractive?

There was a bottle of Russian vodka and two glasses on the desk. I didn't know the brand, but the bottle was very familiar from my childhood. What was he planning, I wondered?

My eyes were locked with his. He's not traditionally handsome, but there's something intensely masculine about him that draws me in like a magnet. I noted the way his thick, dark eyebrows arch slightly in amusement as he stared at me.

"You couldn't stay away, could you?" he said. Gesturing with his hand, He beckoned me forward.

I took a deep breath as I approached him, my heart racing with anticipation. I couldn't believe how much I missed being with him, how much I craved his touch, his dominance.

I glanced at his crotch to see if my tiny bikini was having the desired effect on him, and I felt my face heat up with the recognition that it was. His bulge was growing larger by the second. The thought of this older man seeing me like that and desiring me was completely thrilling.

He picked up a glass and offered it to me. At first, I was going to refuse, but the determined look on his face told me not to. I took it and sipped.

He laughed. "Drink like you mean it, Ana."

Why do people say vodka is tasteless? It tastes like rubbing alcohol. It's awful. I don't know why half the world drinks it. But I took a longer draft, which seemed to please him. Why did that look of pleasure on his face give me so much pleasure, in return?

"Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" I said, now standing in front of him, filled with nervous desire. His hands came up, slipped into my wrap, and began moving about my hips, thighs and ass. His hands felt wonderful against my skin.

It felt like he was trying to imprint me with his masculinity. My legs rubbed up against the dirty fabric of his overalls, sending even more delicious shivers of pleasure throughout my body. Oh, yes...I needed that.

I looked down at this smiling man with the unkempt beard and scraggly hair. Old, out of shape, and dressed like a slob. This time, I had the advantage of knowing what he could do. That made my desire for him so much more powerful.

I bent and kissed him. "I want you," I whispered. The stringent taste of the alcohol on his breath hit me powerfully. Was he drunk? Was he dangerous?

"I know," he said in a matter-of-fact way. "Go to Playland and wait for me."

I glanced at the dirty mattress and frowned. "I don't want to."

"You are a stubborn girl," he shook his head as his hands slid up my abdomen toward my breasts. I felt the heat of his thumbs press into my belly. "You think you're too good for me, for my place?"

"No, baby. It's just not clean there. We can go anywhere else."

His hands cupped my breasts, and I lost my train of thought. What were we arguing about? His hands slipped under the little triangles of my top, and He took my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

My head lolled backward, and my knees turned to jelly. He grabbed my boobs roughly, using them as handles to pull me into his body.

"You sexy little bitch!"

My chest heaved with each ragged breath. My nipples hardened under his firm grasp. I looked down at him, my eyes wide with lustful desire as He spun me around, and I landed in his lap. Jesus, I was just clay in his rough workman's hands.

"We can do it right here. In this chair. On this desk. On the floor. I don't care. But I will fuck you tonight, shlyukha. Anyway I want." While he spoke, his hands were all over my boobs, pulling, squeezing, and even slapping them together like a schoolboy with chalkboard erasers. Where did my bikini top go?

I could feel his hard cock against my ass. Teasing me. Taunting me. I was so close to it, but so far away.

"You think you come here to please yourself, but you come here to please me," He said. And He was right. One reason I was in this place with this experienced lover was to learn. His dominant ways just made it easier to let my boundaries be pushed.

"Yeessss. Ohhhh, God yyyeesss! That's what I want, too — anything you want, anyway you want it. Fuck, yyeessss! Use me."

His response was to take his sweet time. He teased me for a very long time, or at least it felt like a long time. Building my excitement. Working me into a fever pitch.

"If you're good, malyshonuk, I will reward you." His finger slipped into my drenched pussy. Where did my bikini bottom go? Wow, he is so good at that. Again, he took his time, teasing my pussy, fingering me, working my poor little clit. He was a master.

"Mmmmmmm. Please, baby."

"You like that?"

"Yeessss."

"You like cock more, don't you?"

"Yyyeeessss. Soooo much more."

He pushed me up off of him. It surprised me, and I almost stumbled, catching the edge of the desk at the last second to stay on my feet. He powerfully spun me back into the chair, whipping my mind into a whirl.

The chair was not a standard modern office chair, but something from the last century made of hard, solid steel. The back reclined as I flew into it.

The next thing I knew He was standing above me, dropping his overalls to the floor, his keys making a great crashing sound into the floor and echoing off the walls. I think that might be a signature move of his.

If so, it was lost on me, as my attention was on a big beautiful cock that had dominated my thoughts for the past few days. It stood out away from his body like a majestic monolith. Even his big stomach could not hide its tremendous size.

He walked around the side of the chair, and I thought he wanted me to suck that beauty, which I was happy to do. I lifted my hand to grab his cock, but he slapped it away.

He responded with dominance, pushing my forehead back and holding me against the chair. I wanted to be doing something to take an active part, but it was clear he didn't want me to. He wanted submission. He smiled down at me as he slapped his cock on my cheek.

"So pretty."

"Thank you."

"You are prettier with my cock in your mouth," he laughed. To prove his point he stuffed it in, pushing my cheek out to the side obscenely. "See, prettier."

Then he took it out and frowned. "Less pretty."

Back in, smiling. "More pretty!" And he did that over and over again until I reached up and grabbed his cock.

"Stop teasing," I said. It was the wrong thing to do. His jaw tightened, and he reached into his desk, pulling out a roll of duct tape. He ripped off a piece and taped my wrist to the armrest.

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely.

"Don't touch it until I tell you to," He admonished. Then he grabbed my other wrist and taped that down on the opposite arm rest. For some reason, that I don't truly understand, I didn't struggle and let him do it. "There, that looks better."

He walked around the chair assessing me in my constrained situation, his big erection swaying in the air tantalizingly. I could see him thinking and wondered what he was up to.

He reached under me and pulled my butt forward to the edge of the chair. Finally, he lifted my long legs up and taped them to the back of the chair rather elaborately. The result of his handiwork was me leaning back in a reclined position with my very ready pussy sticking almost straight up in the air invitingly.

Finally, He would fuck me, I thought, and I was ready. He rolled the chair across the room until the back banged up against the cement wall. The way he power fucked, he would need the leverage, I surmised.

Again though, he teased. First with his rough hands caressing my legs, my belly and my boobs. I was moaning practically nonstop by then. This man played my body like a musical instrument.

As good looking and young as Leo is, he never drove me crazy the way this old man does. He can work me up to a fever pitch and keep me there so easily that it almost seems unfair.

Then he started rubbing and slapping that big cock all over my exposed skin. He started with my face, arms and legs. He even put one leg up on the chair, so he could whip my big boobs with it.

Finally, he went to the end of the chair where I was rolling my hips at him and trying to present my pussy in whichever direction he moved. I just needed that cock so badly.