Works by Reena Jacobs
The Striped Ones
Shadow Cat
Chasing Shadows (Available 2012)
Control Freak
Brandon’s Story
Regina’s Story
Combo Pack (Includes Brandon’s and Regina’s Stories)
Single Title
I Loved You First
Unprotected
Flash Fiction
Circulatory System
One Wish
Injustice Is Served (Available December 2011)
Find works by Reena Jacobs at Smashwords:
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ReenaJacobs
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CONTROL FREAK:
BRANDON’S AND REGINA’S STORIES
COMBO PACK
By
Reena Jacobs
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SMASHWORDS EDITION
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Control Freak:
Brandon’s and Regina’s Stories
Combo Pack
Copyright © 2010 by Reena Jacobs
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Control Freak: Brandon’s and Regina’s Stories is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Control Freak: Brandon’s Story
Home at last, I sit on the sofa and sigh. My weight disperses and brings the pain in my back and my throbbing feet to the forefront of my mind. Spending the rest of the evening zoning in front of the tube is the only thing I want to do.
Not even five minutes into a show and my wife, Regina, passes in front of me. She’s already stripped. Her beautiful brown skin taunts me. Half the time she doesn’t wear any clothes. Modesty is lost on her. Our teenage girls are used to her parading around the house in nothing, and the toddler couldn’t care less. Me on the other hand, my cock still jumps at the sight of her.
Regina doesn’t speak. She doesn’t even look at me. She just picks up an empty bowl on the end table and returns to the kitchen. The woman doesn’t fool me, the manipulating bitch. She has been tormenting me with her body ever since I refused her demands in the bedroom a few days ago.
I don’t know what I got myself into. Before we married she seemed so sweet—a little on the frisky side, but sweet nonetheless. She even got me to go to church, insisted even. Regina’s still the Christian girl and all, only with a twist. She’s a freaky exhibitionist or something—groping me in public, grinding against me. Anywhere is fair game as far as she is concerned, except for church. If her prim and proper friends only knew.
Then there’s the kinky domination-submission shit.
Three days ago… well no, the no-sex nonsense started earlier. About a week ago she gave me an ultimatum or maybe it was a proposition. What do I know?
She said, “Brandon, what would you do if I said you can only have sex with me if you read my book?”
Was she kidding? Her book meaning the one novel she wrote. She’d been griping at me about that damned thing for months. I told her I’m not a reader, but she keeps nagging and nagging. I don’t want to read her book; I don’t want to read any books. Why can’t she understand?
“Here’s the deal.” Her lips quirked into a sly smile. “For every chapter you read of my novel, we can have sex after.”
How convenient for her.
“Hmmm, or...” She dragged out the word ‘or’ for a full second. “You show me who’s boss in the bedroom. Show me you’re the man.”
What the hell?
“Well?” Her eyebrows lifted as she gave me that cunning smile again. The look would be sexier if she’d use it when she weren’t manipulating me.
“I don’t think that’s right.” I tried not to glower, but the quick frown which claimed her features told me I didn’t succeed.
“That’s the deal.” She crossed her arms and gave me a sideways glance. “Don’t you want to pin me to the bed and fuck my brains out?”
She’s used those words so many times on me, I’ve lost track. My wife likes sex… a lot. She constantly complains about not getting enough. I can’t understand why she’d turned it into some kind of ransom.
I’m a man. I take it when I can. But no, she wants me to be in control. More than just in control, she keeps talking about bondage and shit.
“Come on, honey. Let’s do it.” Once again, she’d initiated sex at the most inappropriate time.
Lord knows I wanted to accept her offer. “You know we can’t.”
She pouted. “Why not?”
“The kids are in the other room. At least wait until they go to bed.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“Yeah right.”
Quiet to her is not screaming. I swear she’s deaf or something—the moans, the cries, the “Oh yes! Oh God!” So much for blasphemy. What happened to her Christian ways? And don’t let her have an orgasm… then all bets are off. I can’t count the number of times she’s woken the toddler.
We haven’t had sex since she made “the deal,” at least not together. I know she gets off while I’m at work. Every day I come home, her “toys” are in a different place—on a dresser, the sink counter, my damned pillow. Why does she flaunt it?
Three days ago I decided to go to bed early… kind of. After a quick shower, I hopped in the sack wearing a pair of boxers. I was hard before I even wrapped my hand around my cock. Not as good as the real thing, but better than nothing. I closed my eyes, envisioning Regina’s warm hands gripping me. The slight tug against my rim as she stroked upward. The heat of her mouth before she enveloped me. Then the door flew open. I jumped. I think I even chuckled when I saw it was the wife and not one of the kids. “You scared me.”
She stood in the doorway. The glow from the hallway illuminated the outline of her naked body, making her look radiant. She flipped on the bedroom light. “Were you masturbating?”
“No.” The word popped out of my mouth so fast, I don’t even think I realized I’d lied at the time.
“Really?” Regina strode across the room and yanked on the covers.
“What are you doing?” I tried to hold onto the sheets, but she’d caught me by surprise, and they slipped from my grasp. I huddled in a ball, thankful I’d put on the underwear.
Regina wasn’t fooled. She thinks my body belongs to her. “Pastor Bob said,” she’d told me many times—the one thing she remembered from marriage counseling. Why couldn’t she remember the part when he said not to withhold sex?
She grabbed my cock. “Then why are you semi-hard.”
Damn I wished she’d stroked me instead of testing my firmness.
She released me and walked to the bathroom. “You don’t have to masturbate. We can have sex anytime you want.”
Her voice was so casual; I almost believed her.
The door snapped shut, and the shower came on. For fifteen minutes I tried to sleep with her words echoing in my head.
I longed to join her in the bathroom. Visions of water dripping down her body raced through my mind. The idea of her hands running over her soapy skin was enough to make me rock hard.
I touched myself, giving my cock a few stiff jerks but ultimately forced my hand away. She’d know. No doubt she’d check the bed for wet spots. But if I were careful…
The water stopped. I waited and willed my breathing to slow.
The door opened, and Regina rounded the corner naked except for the towel dangling from her head. She scrubbed her hair as she approached. Missed droplets fell on the coverlet as she planted a foot on the bed. Completely exposed, she ran the thick fabric down her breast and between her legs before she flung it on the floor in the corner. Only her short bush hid the tantalizing flesh between her thighs. “Did you masturbate while I was in the shower?”
I snapped my eyes shut.
“Brandon, I know you’re not sleeping.”
“I’m trying to sleep, Regina.”
“I wanna know if you masturbated while I was in the shower.” Her voice was stern, like she was talking to one of the children.
I hated when she treated me like a kid.“Why do you want to ask me something like that?”
“Cause I want to know. I don’t know why you make it such a big deal. I masturbate all the time.”
No surprise.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“No, okay.” I pulled the covers over my head.
She climbed on the bed. “We can have sex right now.”
Her knee jabbed into my back, and the blankets drew down with a jerk. Regina hovered over me, a wicked grin on her face. She poked me in the ribs. Of course I jumped.
She laughed. “Does that tickle?”
“Yeah.” And not in a good way.
The woman had ferreted out all my ticklish spots over the years. She stabbed a finger into my armpit. “Isn’t that irritating?”
“Yeah.”
“Stop me,” her voice lowered a couple of octaves.
“How?”
“You’re stronger than me. You can stop me anytime you want.” She went to town, her fingers moving so fast I couldn’t keep up. “Show me who’s the man… be aggressive. I want it rrrruuff.”