When a Man Tries by Cliff Clements by Cliff Clements - Read Online

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When a Man Tries - Cliff Clements

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Chapter I

I said I was sorry again, pouring red wine into Johanni’s mouth, watching it flow down her body and into the drain of the bathtub. I drink from her bodily river of wine as she releases the buttons on my drenched suit. She was obsessed with the warmth of my lips, and the thought of being loved once more, even for this moment, made her insides steam.

I controlled her; she was mine as the instincts of a man began to take over. I couldn’t get the image of Penelope’s long, thick thighs in that pencil skirt out of my head. But instead of ignoring it, I let it fuel me and fuel my desire. I began to undress her in my thoughts. It was at this moment that I began cheating mentally. Everything that I was sexually doing to Johanni, the woman that gave me seven years and the woman soon to be my wife, I was sexually doing to Penelope in my mind.

I grabbed Johanni firmly by the roots of her hair, tipping her head over the bathtub and exposing her neck, releasing the tension in her lower spine, and preparing her body. The erection of her clitoris invited penetration as I patiently moved the layers of her pubic hairs, and my lips softly gripped the inner and outer lips of her lotus. I could feel Johanni’s body pulsating, responding, and approving. I could feel the blood rushing through her body. I identified with her orgasm.

She bit her inner lip, extended her legs, grabbed my neck, and held me hostage to her climax.

I give in. She was dripping. The taste was familiar. The feelings were mutual. I glanced up into Johanni’s eyes. She gazed back into mine as she screamed the code word, King…King…KING Cliff! Johanni did not squirt, but this night was different. Somehow we ended out of the tub. I climbed up in search of her lips while I slowly slid in, inch by inch, as her pelvic muscles began to relax.

In…out…in…out…in…out…She felt the 9-inch vein when I swelled inside her. In…out…in…out…in…out…I started to test the limits of how much she was able to take.

Tonight was so much different. Johanni was not giving in. She pushed me out and jumped on top of me. Johanni grabbed my cock tightly and shoved it deep inside of her as she began to ride me while grabbing my throat. As she was riding, she spun in a 360-degree motion while I remained deep inside of her.

Johanni, slow down, I begged.

She smiled slyly. That’s not the code word. Sweating profusely, I did not give in, although the thought of saying KING did cross my mind.

I grabbed both of her arms and held them behind her back as she continued to ride me. I pulled her backwards and onto her back to regain control. Johanni whispered in my ear, It’s about to be a long night for you.

The morning after, I awoke to Johanni’s beautiful smile and the smell of breakfast.

Do you forgive me? I asked her.

She looked up and gave me a kiss with no response. I grabbed her and asked again, Do you forgive me, mi amor?

I forgive that 9 inches in those briefs. But you, you, sir have some making up to do.

In my mind I thought, how can I be so lucky? I’ve betrayed you over and over again. How could a woman be so naïve? I felt bad for taking advantage of her, but that couldn’t stop me from being a man with a healthy appetite. Why? I asked myself with scattered thoughts of Penelope’s lush, full lips in the front of my mind.

I just had to have her. I had to see her once more. Seeing her wasn’t enough. I needed to feel her and would stop at nothing. If Johanni could hear my thoughts, she would be devastated.

How could a man say he loves a woman with a heart as cold as mine? The worst thing is I knew that I was no good for Johanni. She was a good girl, and didn’t deserve the betrayal she inevitably faced.

I had been driving all afternoon contemplating paying Penelope a visit. I mean one visit wouldn’t hurt right? That’s how I talk myself into doing it.

Later that evening, I stopped by to see if Penny was at the art gallery. Penny was the nickname I gave her. She wasn’t there.

I went to the gallery six days straight after that. Finally, I asked the representative if Penelope was there. I had to get information. I just needed to know her last name. Social media made everything easy, and I would stop at nothing to find her.

Penelope Straight is her name, he revealed. May I ask how you know Penelope?

I met Penelope here at your grand opening. My father is a head investor here. I came here to tell her I can’t forget her smile, and it is very important to me that she knows that.

The representative laughed.

What’s so funny?

Well, he responded, my sister is ugly and her dad is the owner of this shit hole, but she doesn’t work here, and neither do I. Please tell your dad, Mr. Clements, that I said hello. Oh, and I will let Penel know you came by."

Driving home, I felt stupid. What is it that makes a man this way? I mean, why can’t we control ourselves? It feels like a curse. We can’t release sexual thoughts about women until we fulfill them. I thought about Penelope 7,200 times that day. Every single sexual thought I had was about her. Yet I knew that I wanted nothing from Penelope—nothing more than to use her for my own selfish pleasure.

Parked in the driveway, before walking into the house, I searched for Penelope Straight. There she was: 317 pictures. I looked at every last one. In just 20 short minutes, I knew everything about her—her birthday, her hobbies, her hometown, and, essentially, her whole life. I messaged her. Please do not respond. Meet me at 1737 Mockingbird Lane at 12:27 pm tomorrow.

I knew she would remember me.

Knock, knock, knock. Johanni banged loudly on the car window. I quickly close my browser.

Are you coming in?

Yes, mi amor. Just caught up in a conversation with Teddrick about his crazy wife again.

Mmmmm…okay. Well, come on. Dinner’s ready.

Walking in the house and wondering if she saw the message, I grabbed and kissed her to determine if her demeanor was