His Obsession by Ava Lore

smoothing over my thighs, dipping into my pussy.
    "It's just too easy when your head is empty," I joked.
    His hands stilled. "Why do you always do that?" he asked me.
    I frowned. "Do what?"
    "Put yourself down."
    I ground against his hands, trying to encourage him to continue, but he was steadfast. "I mean it, Sadie. You have a low opinion of yourself."
    My lips thinned. "It makes it easier," I said finally.
    "Easier to do what?"
    I shrugged. "Deal with the disappointment I feel when I look in the mirror."
    Behind me I felt him shake his head. "How am I going to convince you you're amazing?" he sighed.
    I could think of one way, but I didn't want to say it out loud. I was trying not to push the issue of the fact that we were living on borrowed time, whether he decided to end it all or not. "I don't know," I said. "Pay me to think I'm amazing? I can do a lot for the right incentive."
    His chest rumbled in a laugh. "You and most of the rest of the world. But I think even if I did, that you would just tell me you thought you were amazing, rather than actually change."
    I shrugged. "How would you tell the difference."
    His lips brushed against my ear, and I shivered down to my toes. "I would be able to tell."
    He took me from behind, there on the deck, plundering my core first until I came around him, then withdrawing and placing his cock against the tight hole of my ass. I stiffened, but when I didn't tell him no, he pressed inside, filling me up unbearably, and as he thrust into my ass I closed my eyes and thought of nothing.
    ––––––––
    "I never see the captain. What does he do all day, jack off?"
    "He tells me he's writing a book."
    "About what?"
    "I'm not sure. Maybe about jacking off?"
    "That's gross. Don't be gross. You're rich, you should be classy."
    "You were the one who introduced the subject."
    "Yeah, but you should be classier than me. I'm just a working girl in a rich man's world."
    "I'm just a rich man on a boat with a beautiful woman who makes him think of soft, dirty things. How else should I behave?"
    "Mysterious. Enigmatic."
    "I am that, too. Mysteriously and enigmatically aroused by your perfect ass. No, inspired by your perfect ass."
    "Maybe you should do a piece of art on my ass instead of my whole body."
    "It's certainly something to think about. Perhaps I should write a sonnet on it instead. Sixteen perfect lines, eight for one cheek and eight for the other, and yet only a pale shadow of the real thing."
    "My ass is too big for only sixteen lines. Maybe you should write an epic on it instead."
    "I could. Perhaps I should write it on the skin, as I did on the plane. But I fear it might take too long and you would get bored."
    "Why, because it's so big?"
    "Because I'd be writing one-handed."
    "See? Gross."
    "Come here and see how gross it is."
    "I... Oh."
    "Turn over. I will write my ode to your body with mine."
    "... oh."
    ––––––––
    One day, in frustration, he broke all his pencils. Deliberately, methodically, I watched him snap each one in half and throw them into the sea. The rage on his face was shocking, overwhelming. For the first time I was actually nervous of his temper, of the temper of the billionaire, the ruthless businessman who had carried the person inside of him to such a hopeless, terrible place in life.
    "It's not right," he growled to the ocean. "It's never right. I can't get it right!" With one last heave, he tossed the box into the water. Made of cardboard, it floated for a moment before floating away, slowly sinking, until it had whirled and eddied beneath the surface in the wake of the boat. He stood at the railing, gripping it in white knuckled hands, and breathed deeply, struggling to get his fury under control.
    I'd been posing for him. When he'd abruptly screamed with frustration and thrown the sketchbook in a rage it had skidded across the deck to my feet. I would not look at someone else's work without permission, but now I could not help it. The