Mommy and Daddy

Samantha

"Thank you, Lauren. We're done for today," I said fighting back a yawn. I'm super tired.

Thank God it's Friday.

I can go home and rest. No work to bother me.

"Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Collins," Lauren, my secretary smiled briefly before walking out of my office.

I finished up working on my desktop before logging off. I grabbed the important files and put them in my bag. My phone rang as I was tidying up. I smiled when Jackson's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey," I put him on loudspeaker as I walked around.

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"Uh, just cleaning up stuff. I'm leaving the office in a minute," I said.

"Good," he said.

"Why do you-" I trailed off when he hung up. Weirdo. I went on with getting everything I'd need before leaving. I passed by a few employees and they greeted me. "Have a good day," I said to the guard by the door as he opened the door for me.

"Thank you ma'am. You have a good day as well," he said bowing a little.

Right in front of the door, Jackson was leaning against his sports car, wearing shades. He was yet to notice me.

"You said you were coming out in a minute. I've been waiting for 11 minutes," he complained, right away. I rolled my eyes.

"Hello to you too bitch," I greeted. He gave me a death glare and I stuck my tongue out at him. He took off his glasses and eyed me for a split second before pushing himself off of the car. He opened the passenger door.

"Hop in," he said.

"My car's over there," I pointed at my car, where my driver, Jordan is waiting for me.

"He'll take it to your house, it's fine," he persisted. I pouted, walking over.

"But I wanted to go and rest. I'm tired," I whined, looking up at him.

"Oh you poor cute thing," he said mocking me.

I got in and he took my bag to the back before getting in as well. He eyed his watch for a second before pulling out into the road.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked him.

"To the woods," he joked, smirking. "Got any last words? For your loser of a husband, perhaps?"

"Hey, don't talk about him like that," I said quietly, looking outside the window.

"Whoa, I didn't hit a nerve, did I?" I ignored Jackson, leaning against the window and closing my eyes. The soft purr of the engine lulled me into a deep slumber.

"Samantha?" I hummed when I heard a voice calling my name. "Samantha?" Someone shook me away. I blinked my eyes opened and looked around.

"What happened?" I found myself yawning as I looked at Jackson.

"You've been overworking yourself again, have you?" Jackson eyed me sideways.

"It's work. It's bound to happen," I said drawing another yawn.

"You're not always this tired, Samantha. Not even your husband wears you out like that,"

"Well, thank you for reminding me my sexual life is a road kill," I mumbled getting out of the car with a grumble. Jackson chuckled under his breath, catching up to me. "Why are we here anyway?" I looked up at the restaurant.

"You have to eat," was all he said.

We walked in the familiar place, tables surrounding the place with barely a passage to walk through. Jackson led me to a private area. Our private area.

Michael was already seated at the table. He stood up when he saw us and pulled out the chair for me. "What happened?" He eyed me. I groaned.

"Do I look that bad?" I asked instead.

Michael sat down in front of me. Jackson was right next to me, on my left. There was an empty space on my right. It's only fair that Michael wanted to be as close to Jackson as possible. Their chairs were almost touching. I love their relationship. They are open and affectionate with each other.

And very kinky.

I shook the thought out of my head.

"I already ordered. Is that okay with you?" Michael asked me.

"Yeah yeah, I'm starving," I grabbed the glass of wine and took a sip.

"So what's wrong with you?" Michael inquired. I eyed him briefly.

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "There's nothing wrong," I shrugged.

"You're lying to us, Samantha?" His brows furrowed, pointing at himself.

The three of us were friends from way before. From when our parents became friends and introduced us to each other. We hit it off since then. Michael and his mother moved here from Brooklynbecause of his abusive father. His mother had been hiding Michael from the moment she found out she was pregnant.

Hence why she ran and started a new life in another city. The best decision she made for the both of them. And thank God, Michael wasn't there to witness it all.

Jackson's parents were divorced and he'd been staying with his mother until he and Michael started their business. Now they both live together, in a huge mansion. flashy, if you ask me. My house is modern and not over the top. I liked my space like that.

We were blessed with an unbreakable bond. Being the only girl in the group, I was their princess. Always. They treated me like Royalty. Never a day where they mistreated me.

My two gentlemen.

We had a rocky situation when I married my husband, Martinez. He was jealous of them and constantly accused me of cheating with one of them. Granted, I spent my time with them majority of it. I still made time for Martinez and the business.

I wasn't going to abandon my friends now that I'm married. Michael and Jackson don't like Martinez that much. I love Martinez. That's all that matter.

Martinez wasn't financially stable when I met him. Growing up in a wealthy family, I had enough money to take care of him. Now, he works at a construction company. I still take care of him because he's my husband and I love him. You take care of the one you love, isn't it.

"Did Lanky ass do something?" I glared at Jackson. They call my husband Lanky ass. Every time. At this point, I don't think they remember his name.

"Seriously? What's wrong?" Michael asked, seriously

Michael was the oldest with 31 years. Jackson was 28 and I was 26.

The waitress walked in with our food. She looked like the typical flirty type of girl, her uniform a little loose on her chest, showing off her bust.

While my chest was almost flat, I envied those kind of boobs. Men go for bigger boobs. As a woman, I do possess an hourglass shape with an ass for distraction. Which is why men tend to try their luck with me.

For my Nick Minaj ass. It's annoying as fuck. Even when they see the ring on my finger. As a successful businesswoman, I'm quite known and people basically know about my life. They are aware that I'm married.

"Enjoy your food," the waitress said, his eyes lingering on Michael, who wasn't paying attention to her. She walked out then.

"She was totally checking you out," Jackson pointed out, eyeing Michael.

"Well, I was checking out your cute ass in those jeans," Michael said smirking when color rushed to Jackson's face.

I went on to stuff my face while they eye fucked each other. "Earth to the lovers. I'm also here," I said.

"Wanna join?" They both said, turning to me. I scrunched my face at them. I was used to their flirtatious behavior around me. I can't say I'm immune to it. "What a lady you are. talking with food in your mouth," Michael said, his eyes roaming my face.

"You're avoiding our question, Samantha," Jackson pointed out.

"That's because there's nothing wrong," I pressed, stuffing more food in my mouth so I don't have to talk. Michael caught my hand and took the fork.

"Don't think we haven't been noticing your behavior changing. Not to mention you barely keep to our schedule lately," Michael listed off. "And you're always tired. And don't say it's work. You've had this business for five years and it was never this bad. Already ruled out your Lanky lack of sexual engagement," he smirked while I rolled my eyes.

There we go again. Why did I tell them again? Well, I've discovered that I'm a Dominant. Well, in the bedroom. And I like...kinky stuff.

Martinez doesn't.

He never even considered giving us a chance. He'd shut me out and called me 'controlling'. And we haven't been doing so well in bed. I can't even remember the last time he touched me. He's always away on work. When he comes home, he's tired and I'd have to sleep frustrated sexually.

This has been going on for about 2 years now. At first, I thought that he must be really worn out from work. He works really hard. I thought eventually, he'd snap out of it. I thought he'd give our sexual life a chance.

Instead, he cheated. With my secretary, Lauren. Yep, I have to stare at the same woman who's been sleeping with my husband for a long time now. I'm not one to start the drama, because I know my dirty laundry will be out in the news. I can't handle that drama. I confronted Martinez and he admitted and apologized.

I was an idiot for forgiving him and giving him a second chance. It took me those two years to realize that I deserve better. That he'll never change. That I need to walk away.

"And you called me one time, in the middle of the night, drunk and crying. Twice," Jackson said.

"I cry when I'm drunk," I lied, avoiding his eyes.

"You don't," Michael said and I looked away.

I haven't told them about all this and I'm surprised they didn't catch anything. I must be really good at hiding this.

"Okay, fine," I placed down my fork. They're my friends. They deserve to know. I know they'll support me no matter what. "There's something...that I need to tell you guys," I cleared my throat and looked up at them.

"I'm going to...file for a divorce..."

Jackson

Michael is too quiet.

I know what's brewing inside that head of his. The same thing that's brewing in my head.

I am fuming. I am hurting.

She's been hurting for two fucking years because of that bastard. That ungrateful bastard.

How dare he take advantage of our girl?

She's been nothing but good to him. All he does is spend her money with that whore he's been seeing. I don't understand why Samantha kept up with this for so long.

My ears perked up when I heard loud crashing sounds downstairs. I heard Michael's loud angry roars and dashed out the room.

I walked into the lounge area to see Michael wrecking havoc. The coffee table was upside down, broken into shards, all the contents spilled. The couches were shoved and there was a broken glass thrown on the wall, liquid dripping down. He was panting, standing in the middle of the mess. His eyes looked up at me and I pursed my lips.

This isn't the first time something like this happened. Michael is an angry man. He gets angry quite easily. Even though he's the most gentlest person - well, outside the bedroom - he's also a physical man. He's never afraid to throw in a punch when you piss him off.

It can even get very dark. I've witnessed it. He's never been rough or abusive to me. Or Samantha, our best friend. I love that no matter how much I tend to rile him up, he's never been physical with me. He's quite calm and collected. Sometimes he treats like I'm his most precious possession.

Fuck if I don't love that.

He's my dream man. The day we both figured out our feelings for each other, was like a breath of fresh air. We went from being friends to being in a relationship. I'd never regret making that decision. He's everything I've ever wanted in a person.

Even though the both of us tend to get naughty and bring in a third person, it's usually for a sexual purpose and nothing more. We like sharing whoever we allow into our bedroom. We made a rule.

Whoever we bring, we use a different room and not our master bedroom. We value our privacy and our space.

We don't fall in love with that person. Never. We have ourselves and it's been that way ever since. I'm quite smitten by him and I'd like to think he is too.

I love everything about this man. He's not one to talk. He keeps to himself. To anyone outside of our group, he's a mysterious quiet man. We've known each other our whole lives that we are comfortable with being vulnerable and open to each other. He's fun to be with when he lets loose.

He also takes his work very seriously. I on the other hand, tend to drag working. I love my job. Honest truth. I just have one of those 'oh fuck it' days. Michael knows how to snap me out of those. I've lost count of how many we've fucked at the office. We've had people walk in on us and Michael makes no move in stopping.

I love how he's not afraid to express himself. If he needs me to do something for him, he tells me right away. He's straight forward about it too. He made it his mission to let me know how 'celestial' I am when we're fucking. He tells me he loves my moans, my body, the faces I make, how good I feel when he's inside of me. It always make me blush. I still get flustered because for a long time I've been insecure about how I am.

To anyone, I come across as a masculine person. I'm leaner than Michael, but I sure do pack a few muscles here and there. I'm 5'8 and Michael is 6'5. I don't particularly possess boyish qualities. I was never a twink, which is what most men prefer. I'm quite manly and dominant like. When I'm with Michael though, that's all out the window. The man brings out the boy in me. I love every moment of it. With him, I can be vulnerable and open. I love being his Submissive because he takes good care of me and we both tend to our needs when we finish being sexual.

Michael likes it raw and rough and I have to admit, I live for that. I love how he manhandles me and still be caring. Sometimes he fucks my brains out until I'm on the verge of passing out from so much pleasure. I know I can trust him to take good care of me when I'm most vulnerable. It's the best feeling in the whole world.

I could never ask for a better man than him. And he's hot, so that's a bonus.

I trudged down the steps to where he is. He hasn't moved and he was still panting. Despite the outburst, he was still angry. I could see that. When I stepped closer, he stepped back. "Don't come closer," he warned quietly. "I don't want to hurt you love," he said.

"It's okay," I reassured him, closing the distance between us. "I know you won't hurt me," I took his face in my hands. "You never gave me a reason to be afraid of you," I gave him a soft smile, which he couldn't return.

Yep. Still angry.

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him. He did the same, tightening his hold on me. He let out hot breaths in an attempt to calm himself. When it didn't work, he let out a growl. "I can't..." he stammered under his breath.

"I know," I pulled back to look at him. I know he's struggling. I know that whatever's on his mind, it's dark and vicious and it won't let him go. I know that he wants to go to that bastard who hurt our girl. I know that he wants blood. "I can help with that," his eyes found mine in confusion.

Pulling back, I took his hand in mine and led him back upstairs. He followed silently, not questioning me. I walked in our bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed, turning to him. I eyed him to see any reaction. All I saw was hesitation.

Anger and sexual desire are strong, overpowering forces. They are both forms of passion. When a couple engages in a ravenaous, unbridled sex because they are angry or enraged, it's the best thing. It tops love making for many reasons. It serves as a make up tool when words can't be exchanged, to avoid saying hurtful things. It is the only exception to riling up your partner and give him or her a good spanking - with consent, of course - without the fear of abuse. We both may not be able to walk the next day, but it's worth it.

And I'm quite a pain slut for Daddy Michael. He might not be mad at me, but we're both angry. For our girl, Samantha. We're furious. I'm the calm one in this group, but that doesn't mean I don't crave blood just as much as Michael does. I tend to throw punches here and there, but I can control myself. That comes with giving people a calculated slow painful revenge. I like to drag my punishment.

And when I finally see that bastard, I'll show him that I can be a monster too.

No one messes with our Princess and gets away with it.

looking up at Michael, I bunched up my tshirt and pulled it over my shirt. His eyes lowered to my abdomen and I saw lust flashing in his eyes. "Jackson, we can't," he said stepping back.

"I trust you," I said gripping his forearm. "I do. With my life. You know I don't mind a little pain. We both need this. To blow off steam," admittedly, we've never had angry sex. It's always the hard core Dominant pleasure and it was in control. "I'm pissed off too by what happened. By what that imbecile did to our girl, and I'm scared I might just kill him when I see him," I said

Michael eyed me, debating whether to give in or not. "I'm yours," I closed the distance between us, taking his face. "Yours to do whatever you please. I can handle it. I promise. And if it gets too much-"

"You safeword," he said his chest rising and falling. His eyes shone with a new light. The fire licking what's left of his control. He gripped my waist and my heart jumped with anticipation. He nodded to himself. "You know I love you, right?" He tells me.

"And I love you," I said pecking his lips softly. He lets me take control for a moment. "I trust you," I whispered against his lips. He lets out a growl when I nibbled on his lower lip, pulling it.

Before I can even blink, Michael swiftly turned me around until I was facing the bed. He pushed me down until half of my body was lying on the bed. Moving my hips up in the air, he yanked the jeans down and my underwear too. If anything, I was turned on by all of this. My cock throbbing painfully.

I heard him take his clothes off as well before his hands were on me. Michael bent down to kiss my shoulder gently, his hand brushing my ass. I squirmed, feeling needy. I wanted him so bad and he was dragging this. I moaned when he pushed two fingers inside of me, pushing my ass up. He pumped in and out of me, scissoring his fingers.

"Fuck," I fisted the sheets, driving my ass up. His fingers sunk deeper into me. "Please daddy,"

He pulled out his fingers and grabbed my face. He kissed me hard, rendering me weak to his touch. He positioned himself behind me, his tip pressing against my entrance. "I'm sorry," he murmured gripping my waist before thrusting in hard. My hips bucked at the force and I let out a muffled cry as pain shot through my back.

I was writhing under him, his cock burning through. I clenched around him, eliciting a deep animalistic growl from him. He didn't move and I was grateful for it. It hurts. It hurts so bad. He's big and he was rough.

He must have waited for me to adjust to the intrusion because when I finally relaxed and started grinding on him slowly, he gripped my hips, clawing my skin and pulled out. He began thrusting slowly, gradually adding speed until he was ramming in me.

"Fuck daddy," I threw my head up, fisting the sheet as the bed creaked with the force. I was fighting to get air into my lungs, but with every ravenaous thrust, he knocked out the breath in me. "Oh G-god, aah..." I moaned, biting into my bicep.

I've never felt anything like this. So raw and primal and...new. He wasn't holding back. He was releasing animalistic growls and groans, pinning me down, so he can have his way with me.

Just the way I liked it.

I yelped when I felt a harsh slap on my ass. "Don't hold back, baby," he said fisting my hair. "Let me hear you," he growled, pounding into me mercilessly. "Let me hear you scream-"

"Daddy!" I let out, pain mixed with pleasure; a deadly combination that will most likely drive me right into Subspace. "Aah, fuck, daddy, you're so deep," I found myself squealing when he went even deeper, reaching areas that drove me wild.

Michael brought one leg up the bed and one dangled on the edge. He groped my ass, spreading my cheeks and pounded into me so mercilessly, I was seeing stars.

"I'm cumming, daddy," I wheezed, feeling myself letting go.

"Not yet," he growled, giving me a harsh spank. He hovered above me, his hand snaking around to wrap around my throat, applying just the right pressure. Tears spilled down as I squirmed, making all sorts of demeaning sounds you could ever think of. "Don't fucking cum, you hear me?"

"Please," I pleaded, my voice barely recognizable. "I can't hold it any longer. Please daddy," he rammed into me, his growls turning into short pants mixed with that melodic moan. He's close. I can feel him twitching and expanding inside of me.

I groaned when I felt myself letting go. I can deal with the punishment of disobeying his orders later. Right now, I was far too gone and bursting at the seams as he pounded into me. My body tingled as I came hard, screaming into the night. "Dadd-" I was shaking, convulsing underneath him. He didn't stop.

He never stopped and I was beginning to be sensitive. He was close. I can tell. His thrusts were shorter, sloppy and he was moaning, gentler than minutes ago. I whimpered when he came inside me, filling me up. "Daddy," I moaned.

His thrusts slowed to a stop and we both collapsed on the bed, with him on top of me, panting.

"Fuck," he breathed out, snaking his arm around me to hold me. "Fuck baby," we were both a sweaty panting mess. I hummed lazily, kissing his forearm. We sat like that for a while, while my body simmered and he went soft, still inside.

I was worn out; all the adrenaline waring off little by little. My eyes were droopy. "I need to...sit," I murmured quietly.

Michael stood up and slowly pulled out of me. I whined, already missing him inside me. "Sorry baby," Michael said kissing my cheek quickly. He helped me up onto the bed and I laid down on my side. "Don't move, okay? I'm going to get a towel,"

Soon, I felt something warm cleaning me up. Michael moved my leg up to clean the front. He went on to wipe the floor, where I came.

"Here, have some water," he came back with water once he was finished cleaning up. I raised my head to drink the water he brought. "Do you need anything else?" He asked me after I was done.

"Cuddles?" I said quietly, eyeing him. He smiled and climbed on the bed, before pulling me to his chest. I sighed, content with the touch of his skin. We were both naked and I liked it that way.

"Love, did I hurt you?" Michael inquired quietly, his voice hinting a little bit of guilt. I looked up at him.

"It was amazing, baby," I said. "A whole new experience, but it was good," he pursed his lips, unsure.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this again. I don't know what came over me. I could have hurt-"

"Shh," I placed my finger on his lips. "You didn't hurt me,"

"You didn't feel pain?" I pursed my lips at that, choosing my words.

"It was good pain, baby," I said softly, looking at him. "You know I'm a masochist. It was good," he eyed me, silent. Then his lips stretched into a wide tight lip smiled.

"Spoken like a true pain slut," his deep voice came out sensual and dripping with sex. Now is not the time to get aroused again.

"I'm your pain slut, daddy,"