Category: Novels and Novellas Stories

How I Met My Master Ch. 01

by WarmMilk©

Author's note: This story is a little "spinoffy" from "My Best Friend Blaine," but I don't think you need to read that before this for it to make sense. Just know that our main character and her friend Blaine have both been sexually/romantically involved with Mark and each other.

But on another note, this story is a deviation from the one's I've done already. It's going to be multi-chapter, not "slam-bam" like my other ones, so if that happens to be what you're in the mood for, I apologize. Love me anyway?  


On Friday, June 3rd, at exactly 10:47 pm, I became a voyeur.

It wasn't my fault though, I swear. The whole time, it was as if I was having an out of body experience. One moment I was standing by the window, ordering Chinese food, and the next, I was crouching beneath the pane, staring straight into the apartment across the street from mine.

It was his fault, really.

Who walks around half-naked in their apartment without the curtains pulled?

A pervert, that's who, I assured myself. Someone who wants you to look.

So, I did.

I got on my knees, crouched to a height at which I was sure he wouldn't be able to see me, and stared straight ahead.

Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have dared to peep, but this was different. Much different. Instead of facing the balding, overweight, and crabby tenant who had rented before, I was being treated to the strikingly long, lean body of the new guy. I had to restrain a lovesick sigh when I saw him bend over in his tight briefs to pick up something from the floor.

"Yowza," I smirked, leaning up and cocking my head a little to get a better look.

But before I could thoroughly inspect his assets, he rose with what looked like a scarf wrapped around his hand. For a long while, I watched him stand there in front of the window with his lips moving, but no audible sound coming out.

Unfortunately, the rest of his apartment wasn't as visible and I couldn't begin to make out who he was talking to. For a moment, though, I pretended it was me. I imagined standing on the other side of his room, watching with a smile as he swept that glossy black hair out of his eyes, and smirked at nothing in particular. Imagined seeing his face, staring into his eyes, and tracing my fingertips over every bit of exposed skin.

By the end of the night, maybe I'd even be the one helping him out of that underwear...

That's it, I thought as I caught myself drooling. No more Wal-Mart brand romance novels for me.

A little sickened by my pervish behavior, I reached up to close my own blinds and shut his image out of my mind, but a quick burst of movement startled me backward, onto my rump. Out of nowhere, the new tenant pulled a woman from the floor and shoved her into a kneeling position in front of his bed. I started to gasp, but then closed both hands over my mouth. It wasn't as if he could have heard me, anyway, but still, the action scared me shitless.

But still...I couldn't look away.

As far as I could see, the woman was gorgeous. Long, strawberry blonde hair ran down her back and flared out over her large breasts. Even from my apartment, I could see the nipples, puffy, pink, and raw from what looked like a set of clamps swinging between her breasts. Her pale skin was flushed and her wrists, tied behind her with some kind of dark cloth, red and bruised.

Mouth wide beneath my hands, I watched in awe of the man's next moves. Viciously, he grabbed the blonde by the roots of her hair and yanked her head upward. Even though I couldn't clearly see his face, I expected to read some sort of anger and violent emotion from somewhere, but instead, I was distracted by his lips. They curved up in a satisfied smirk that instead of shocking me cold, sent a strange hot flash through my entire body.

Quivering slightly, I slid my gaze down his body and stopped at the sight of the bulge in his briefs. He leaned over the blonde's body and tied the scarf in his hand tight around her head, covering her eyes. Then, slowly, I watched him begin to grind against her. I could see her trembling slightly, and her bound hands clenching into fists.

When he leaned up again, the outline of his cock was more distinct, and jutted out against the fabric. Still smirking, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the tight, black briefs and began to drag them down.

My heart hammered anxiously in my chest, and as I leaned up to get a better look, his eyes immediately drifted to the open window.

Such dark, soulless eyes.

Frozen, I watched as he pushed the blonde's face into the mattress with urgency and lowered his face to her ear. Then, those dark eyes of his scanned left to right before traveling up to lock with mine across the street.

For a brief moment, his smirk faltered, and I saw the bit of anger I had first anticipated. He spread his arms, like an eagle about to take flight, and reached out for the blinds. As the blonde on the bed started to shift, he drew them shut.

 Just like that, he was gone.

For a long while after that, I remained on the floor, trying to steady my heartbeat. I couldn't begin to wrap my mind around what had just gone on before me, and part of me didn't want to. But another part, a much larger part, needed to know.

The doorbell rang, signaling my delivery, but I was still too glued to the floor to do anything about it. The tone sounded once, twice, three times before my roommate, Blaine stomped out into the living room.

"What's the matter with you, idiot?" she shot my way before rushing to answer the door.

Slowly, I managed to move my gaze to the door, but instead of the Chinese delivery man, I noticed a tall, slim figure leaning against the doorframe. My thoughts immediately went to the man across the street and I hid behind the couch in reflex.

"I didn't see anything!" I cried.

"She really is batshit crazy, isn't she?" a familiar voice chuckled, and I peeked over the arm of the sofa to face the intruder.

"Mark..." I gave a sigh of relief upon seeing the man's face. He peered down at me curiously for a moment, and then rolled his eyes.

He tried to step into the apartment, but Blaine blocked him with one arm.

"What do you want?" She blew a tuft of red hair from her eyes to mask her irritation, but I knew that little tick well enough. She was ready to kick ass.

"I just want to have a chat with your roommate," Mark gave an innocent little smile.

"You mean roommate," Blaine corrected.

I rose on shaky legs from my position by the couch, but the dark aura surrounding Blaine warned me to keep my distance.

"Why is it really any of your business if one leads to the other?" Mark let his eyes sweep the room before settling on my face. I bit my lip anxiously. With one look from those eyes, he could make me do anything.

"Hey!" Blaine forced his gaze back to her. "She tells me everything, you know. You're married. She told me—"

"—it was between us. We know how we're dealing with it." David started to touch Blaine's shoulder, but she smacked his hand away.

"She's just a kid," Blaine lowered her voice and started to back David into the hall.

"She's woman enough for me," I heard him chuckle. "You too, huh, Blaine?"

Blaine shouted a curse and slammed the door without warning.

"You could have let me handle it," I said once she turned to face me. Blaine blew at that same tuft of hair.

"You were standing right there, she snapped. "Why the hell didn't you?"

I thought of the man in the window across the street and felt body flush with that same strange heat. Noticing Blaine's hard gaze, I tried to keep myself in check.

"He's leaving his wife," I clasped my hands together over my heart. "He promised."

"Jesus Christ..."

Blaine stomped out of the room without another word.

That was how it had been for months since the fated threesome. Mark would show up unannounced, and like a lovesick puppy, I would follow him everywhere he chose to lead me. I still remembered our first one-on-one sexual encounter. He'd driven to me pick me up from school as soon as he got off work, and checked us into a hotel. We'd planned it out ahead of time with just the expectation of a midday rendezvous, but it turned out to be so much more than that.

I closed my eyes and remembered the feel of his lips on my skin, kissing every dip and curve, lingering as if he wanted to imprint them on his mind. And the way he looked at me – as if I was the only girl, no, woman, he'd ever want.

'He's going to leave her,' I told myself with a smile.

My mind drifted to that day once more, and Mark's words when I started to roll over onto my stomach for him.

"Not like that," he'd said, running his hand down the small of my back. "I want to see your sweet little face."

So just like that, with my hands on his shoulders and his resting at my waist, we made love. It wasn't fucking like the night with Blaine, but real love. I felt it. I was sure.

I could feel him inside me, that thick cock and that insane rhythm. Even when it hurt, it hurt damn good.

"Wipe that fucking dopey look off your face, idiot," Blaine's voice shattered my peaceful silence.

Before I had time to lift my head and look behind me, she smacked it with a rolled up Hustler magazine.


"Hey! Give that back!" I leapt from the couch to snatch the magazine. "That's Mark's!"

"I found three of those under the bed in your room! What is that pervert doing with you?" Blaine threw it at me.

I scrambled to pick it up and hugged it close to my chest. "He just uses it to...teach me stuff. Show me...stuff."

That seemed to drive Blaine insane. However, instead of blowing up, she plopped on the couch next to me.

"Don't you get what's going on here?" she drew me to her.

Despite the tension between us, I relaxed into her arms. Suddenly, it was like old times again. Her warmth surrounded me in a way I hadn't felt since...

"I'm looking out for you," she took a deep breath. "It's evident to me that Mark's just using you to fill out some perverted fantasy."

"We don't do anything perverted!" I lied, thinking back to the costumes and "special trips" Mark often took me on.

"But even if we did, so what? Are you saying you've never done anything kinky in your life, Blaine? Come on! I was in the room when Mark was fucking you..."

Blaine's cheeks turned rosy for a moment, and she sighed out in exhaustion.

"You're just a kid," she started to ruffle my hair, but I drew away.

"I'm eighteen! Nineteen in seven months!"

"He's forty-seven!"

Blaine's eyes locked with mine and I was forced to look elsewhere.

"Why was it okay that night, Blaine?" I challenged her. "Didn't you care then?"

"We were having fun..." Blaine stood for a moment, but then sat when I put more distance between us. "I never thought he'd turn you this way."

"I haven't changed, Blaine."

"I should have known better," her voice was a guilty whisper. "You haven't experienced as much as I have. Of course you were attached to him..."

"Stop it," I bit at her. "Stop talking to me like I'm some little kid!"


"—No!" I threw down the magazine and rushed for the door. "That's it! I can't stay here another fucking second!"

Blaine chased after me, but by the time she reached the doorway, I was running and halfway down the hall.

"You know what?!" She screamed after me. "Mark's right! You are batshit crazy!"

Even as I got outside, Blaine's words still stuck in my head. We'd been friend since childhood, but never had I blown up at her that way. We were too close for that.

I slowed my walk a little and looked up at the apartment building. I could see the light on in Blaine's room, and it gave me pause. It was the same room in which I'd crouched next to her in bed, stroked her hair, and drawn my tongue across her pale, creamy skin.

She was perfect – fiery red hair and those striking green eyes. But what exactly did she mean to me?

I shivered suddenly and remembered I'd forgotten my jacket inside.

"I'm such an idiot. I should go back..." I scolded myself, but kept moving anyway. There was no way Blaine would ever let me live it down if I didn't disappear for at least half an hour.

So I kept going, down the street until I reached an unlit area of the sidewalk. The streetlights flickered oddly near the apartments across from ours, though they were substantially newer. It made me a little anxious. I was just about to turn back when I spotted that window across from ours. The curtains were pulled open again, and the sight of two shadows moving around inside frightened me.

'What if he was raping her?' I clasped my hands together tightly and managed to restrain a squeal.

That was, until, I felt two heavy hands on my shoulders.

"I wasn't looking; I swear!" I screamed, but before I had a chance to run, those heavy hands locked around my waist and drew me near.

"That's the second time today," Mark's voice soothed my senses. "What's your deal?"

The streetlight flickered again and I looked over my shoulder, wearily. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"I stood outside long enough to hear you fighting. I figured it was only a matter of time," he gave me a dirty, know-it-all smirk, and I hit him in the shoulder.

"You scared the hell out of me," I narrowed my eyes at him, but he seemed unfazed.

Instead of soothing me, he let his large hands drift down to my ass. Blaine's scolding came back to me at once, and I budged out of his hold.

"Take me to your place, huh?" I played with his soft brown hair as I spoke.

Mark looked down at my chest for a while – trying to undo the buttons with the power of his mind, most likely –and sighed.

"Yeah, fine."

But he didn't take me to his place. Not even a quarter of the way there, he stopped me behind the new apartments, and reached for the sleeve of my shirt.

"Wait. Let's do it here, huh?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a kiss. Normally, I would have thought a public fuck to be a thrilling idea, but this was different. It was almost midnight, I was tired, he hadn't even properly asked. But before I knew it, I was assuming the position in front of his car with my cheek pressed harshly against the hood.

I didn't remember feeling Mark push in. Maybe I blocked it out. But what I couldn't forget was the sound of him. Of passionate groans and skin against skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated. Mark's hands squeezed as his cock plunged deeper, and his teeth made awkward bites at my skin.

He was being too rough, flattening my breasts against the cold metal and spanking much harder than necessary.

But still, I made no protest.

Instead, I focused on those sounds, those ugly carnal sounds, and swore that if I listened just right, I could hear the words "I love you."

Written by: WarmMilk

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Story Tags: control, 18 year old, older man, younger woman, bisexual, reluctance

Category: Novels and Novellas Stories