Anna heard the back door open, then his heavy steps forward. Nervous butterflies accompanied the rumbles in her empty stomach. There was no way to justify these feelings but her heart raced when his palm came down on her shoulder.
"Wake up," Jeff shook her, rattling her small torso, "You've been quiet all day."
Anna didn't flinch, far too used to his roughness, "I wasn't asleep."
With her back to him, she focused on her work even as her fingers twitched with nerves over the keyboard.
Jeff loved to tease her, mostly because she always fought back. But today she was quiet and had said nothing regarding his touches. With his palm, he circled her crown before pushing her head back. She let her head drop with little resistance and closed her eyes as his fingers grazed across her neck.
"I wish my cock was in your throat," he grinned, sliding his fingers where he wanted his cockhead to be.
Jeff noticed her chest heaving with arousal. He tightly gripped her hair, playfully tossing her head up and back, ruining her once neat bun of curls. When that didn't make her talk, he squeezed her jaws pressing her cheeks together, causing her plump lips to curl.
When he got no response from her, he bent over her shoulder. "What's wrong?" He laid his warm palm across her forehead, "Are you sick or something?"
"No, I'm fine, why?" Anna chuckled nervously.
"Because you never let me play with you," he grinned, nuzzling between her head and shoulder, "So, I know something is wrong with you."
Anna knew what was wrong with her. She loved him. Keeping quiet, she gazed at his large hand positioned on her desk. That hand had slapped her ass, thighs, jaws, and tits. He had pulled her hair and wrapped that hand around her throat too many times to count. She watched his fingers twitch in a rapid tap. Those thick digits had brought her pleasure on multiple occasions, with forced orgasms and demeaning sex, all without her consent. He forced her to take his pain and pleasure. And that sick charm was what she loved the most.
In the depths of her mind, she thought: What would be so bad about turning my head, looking into his eyes, and telling him I loved him and the nasty things he made me do? "Everything," she knew.
"I know it's something, little girl?" Came his husky note that tinted her cheek.
Anna got a strong whiff of his potent scent, mixed with a spicy note when he pressed his hairy brims on her neck. He had been drinking. His boozy breath was hot across her nape along with blistering kisses that slumped her shoulders down and back.
"Mmm," a sigh vibrated her lips.
Jeff brought his hands up, cupping her breasts while his tongue slithered up, sending shivers over her arms and contorting her body to give in to this public display. Biting her bottom lip, she wanted to kick herself for falling for him. When his kisses grew sloppy, she wiggled and a heat rushed between her thighs.
Anna backed up, ending the sensation and tightness in her chest, "Can you move," she huffed, removing his hand from her desk, "I've got work to do."
"You've got an attitude," Jeff remarked above her, "Are you sleepy or hungry?"
"What? I'm not sleepy and I don't have an attitude. And, I'm...." Anna lifted her eyes to face him. Through thick lashes she saw the doubtful smirk, forming on his lips, "Why are you out here? Don't you have work to do?"
"I'm hungry," Jeff rubbed his stomach, "Do you plan to cook tonight or do you want to pick something up?"
"I'll order us something now because you didn't eat breakfast," Anna grabbed her phone, "What do you want?"
"Pussy."
She smirked and pushed away at pixels on her phone, "You're gross."
"Not really."
"Yes really," she nodded, swallowing hard.
"The way you tasted this morning in the car, I could lick you all fucking day."
Anna looked up at his lips. There was peace in his tongue. He could soothe her mind with a few flicks across her neck or a bite into her flesh. She listened as he talked, following the movements of his lips and thinking about his hairy mouth on her pussy.
"....I love your cooking, don't get me wrong, and you take such good care of me, little girl, but I was thinking we could go to a bar uptown, after work. Eat and have some drinks..."
Jeff brushed his thumb across her lips which hung open, unable to form a reply.
Anna was so horny. Her fingers fought the urge to touch him or more tellingly, grab his hand and bring him to the pulsing between her legs.
"What do you say?" Jeff wiggled her chin, "They've got some good hot wings."
"L-like a date?" She giggled before dropping her cheerful pitch, "Urm..."
"If you want to make it awkward, I guess, it's a date?" He shrugged, "But I'm hungry and could use a fucking keg right now."
"If you're going to drink all day, you need to eat something."
His jaw tightened and he removed his hand from her chin, "You just assume I've been drinking..."
Annoyed, Jeff turned to walk back into the office, but her voice sounded before he could open it.
"I know you've been drinking 'cause I can smell it on your breath." Anna giggled.
"I can smell it on your breath," Jeff mimicked and shut the door harder than he intended.
Anna turned around to continue working. She knew she had hit a nerve. His drinking was a problem. Every night was the same routine: his mood swings and hers, a mixing of poisonous adrenaline. She knew his weaknesses; in fact, she knew where each nerve resided in Jeffery Anderson.
The doorbell chimed and Jeff came out of his office before Anna could stand up. He placed his thick palm over her narrow shoulder.
"I'm caught up on things. I'll handle it," he backed up and casually walked with a stride toward the intrusive customer.
Anna examined his tall thick frame and pondered her new crush on her fake husband. Why had these feelings come out of the blue and so strong at that? Her mother came to mind and the effort Jeff had put in, helping them reconnect.
Anna hurried a piece of paper out of her drawer. She had been so caught up in his kind gesture and kinky sex that she had forgotten the most important thing in her life. She started with a letter to her mother, writing about her new life, leaving out the bad details of her marriage. Their toxic fights and brawls wouldn't sit well with her mother, who was locked inside a prison cell. She imagined if she wasn't locked up, Jeff would have never put those thick hands on her. He wouldn't have taken her innocence if her mother would have protected her from such a bad man.
Anna was three paragraphs in when Jeff finished with the customer. He leaned on her desk and admired the cute, focused expression, her plump, beige lips pursed in thought.
"I like your handwriting."
"Thanks," she blushed.
"You know, I just remembered why you're being so calm today, and not giving me hell," He chuckled, pressing his finger on her nose, "Your little asshole is stretched out. I guess a good buttplug is the answer to keep a Brat, like you, in line."
"Huh?"
