Page 11 of Baby Girl

“Haven’t heard of it,” I said as I reached into my pocket for my keys.

“You have to read it, it’s the most powerful, moving, and inspiring book I have ever read. It’s a novel, but it reads like something that could be so true. It’s about five different people, and how their lives tie together. They’re all broken in some respect. And, in the end, they all come together. It’ll make you cry,” she said, holding the Kindle up, showing me the cover.

“I doubt that,” I said, holding my arms out for a hug.

She stepped from her chair, and put her arms around me and gave me a hug as if she actually enjoyed it. Nothing, to me, was worse than a hug from someone who did not have their heart in it. Hers was heartfelt. As we broke from the embrace, I spoke.

“Six o’clock”

“Read the book, Erik. And I will be ready,” she responded.

“Broken People got it. Author?”

“Scott Hildreth,” she responded.

“Ok, I will,” I will see you later this evening, Kelli.

Walking to the bike, I began to wonder just what it was going to take to break this girl’s spirit. I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

KELLI. Rubbing lotion on my legs always made me smile. I worked hard to keep my legs in this type of shape, even though running was difficult for me, and I always ran. Eventually, I ended up with shin splints, but I kept running, even with the pain. I often wondered if there was something wrong with me, because the pain seemed to motivate me. Working the lotion up my thighs, I flexed my butt muscles as I rubbed in the lotion. My butt felt so good in my hands.

I loved the smell of lotions and soaps, and smelling lotion from Bed Bath and Beyond almost brought me to climax. I could remember what public places had the best soap, based on the smell. I always smelled my hands after I washed them in public.

My legs, thighs, ass, and pussy were so smooth. I shaved with a two day old five-bladed razor. I loved shaving with a fairly new razor. New razors always seemed to eventually cut me, but when one was a just a few days old, I loved the feeling afterward. Rubbing in the last of the lotion, I thought of Erik, and what he might think if he were to feel my legs tonight. I began to think of him, as my fingers slid up the inner part of my thigh. I felt a tingle, and I could feel the blood beginning to rush....Jesus, it was getting hot in here. I itched for him. I couldn’t take it anymore. His text message with the list of suggestions was getting to me.

Right before I had left the coffee shop, he had sent me a text with a series of questions. His text, initially, kind of freaked me out, but the more I read it, the more it kind of turned me on. I imagined that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he did it for a reason. His text was long and had a series of questions. As I read them, I got really uncomfortable that I was as comfortable with the questions as I was.

Erik Ead:

Let me ask you a few questions. Think about these, Kelli, but do not respond. Be prepared to respond tonight. This isn’t a list of wants, needs, or desires, it is a list of questions. Be prepared to answer how these questions make you feel. Whether or not reading them makes you want to immediately rush out and do each of the things isn’t important. I want to know how they make you feel when you think of them.

You’re standing in front of me with my arms around you. I look you in the eyes, and place my hands on your shoulders and say, “Get down on your knees, you sexy little whore, and suck your daddy’s dick like a good little girl,” Turn on or turn off?

We’re in a movie theatre watching a movie. You’re wearing a dress. The movie theatre doesn’t have that many people in it, but they are scattered about. I lean over and whisper in your ear, “Slide over here, Kelli, and get on my lap. Ride my cock. Fuck me, Kelli. Fuck me now,” Turn on or turn off?

We’re driving down the street, it is daylight. We’re in the city, in traffic. I tell you to suck my dick as I drive, and that I want you to swallow my cum. Turn on or turn off?

You’re down on your knees, giving me head. My hands are resting on your shoulders. I tell you to look at me while you’re sucking my dick. We make eye contact. I slowly slide my hands to your head, and begin forcing myself in and out of your throat, making you gag on me until your eyes water. Turn on or turn off?

We walk in the bedroom. You’re wearing a dress. I step behind you. I place my hand on the small of your back, and the other around your cheek, cupping your face. I turn your face my direction, and I kiss you. As we kiss, I slide my hand from your back around to your hip. With my other hand, I push your upper body down, bending you at the hips. Not a word is spoken. You bend at the hips, you hear my belt unbuckle, and pants drop. I lift your dress, and force myself into you deeply. Quickly, I begin to fuck you with such force that my balls are banging against your clit, and my hips are slapping against your ass, forcing you into the bed. As I am fucking you harder and harder, my hand slides from your hip to your neck. You feel my hand tighten around your throat as I continue to shove you full of cock…turn on or turn off?

I read each one of them, and reread them. All of them turned me on. The more I read them, the more turned on I got. A part of the feeling, I am sure, was because of who sent them. The other part of the turn on was what the questions were asking me to do, or to consider. There wasn’t a part of the questions that didn’t turn me on. Just asking those things turned me on. Also, I began to wonder, as deep, mentally, as Erik was…if he wanted to know if it was a turn on for me to read it, or if it was a turn on for me to think it, or if it would be a turn on in my mind for me to actually do it?

I decided yes to all of the above. I was ready to discuss this with him. I wanted to perform for him, and I wanted to make him so happy with my performance. I wanted to have him push me to my knees, and force himself on me, telling me, Get down on your knees you little whore, and suck your daddy’s….The thought of it made me begin to be comfortably uncomfortable.

I have never been so concerned with what someone thinks about me. I have always, in a way, used guys for sex. I have always used them to get what I want, and left them before or as they decided that they were falling for me. I never wanted them to perceive me for being ugly, or awful sexually, but I didn’t really care, for the most part, what they thought.

Trying to decide what to wear is always a task for me. Tonight, I walked to my room and picked out a summer dress to wear, and got dressed. Panties or no panties. Decisions, decisions, decisions. No panties. Flats or heels. Flats. Hair up or down? Down. Now, standing in front of the mirror, I looked for any imperfections. None. I checked my phone and found no messages. It was 6:00. Maybe he got hung up at the biker card game thing. I took off my dress and sat on the couch in my flats and bra. I no more than sat down and the phone beeped.

Erik Ead: Call me

I pushed dial, and immediately called him back. It rang twice, and he answered.

“Good evening, Kelli.”

“Hello, how was the motorcycle ride,” I asked.

“It was a great ride, thank you. Are you ready?” he asked.