No Boundaries Read online

  No boundaries : a novel

  No boundaries : a novel

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  FONIA

  JAGUAR

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  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  No boundaries : a novel

  Hobbs, Allison, author

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  Read all of these tantalizing tales from Strebor Books and

  ALLISON HOBBS

  HITTIN’ IT OUT THE PARK THE SECRETS OE SILK MISTY

  WITH THIS RING NO BOUNDARIES BRICK

  SCANDALICIOUS PUT A RING ON IT LIPSTICK HUSTLA STEALING CANDY THE SORCERESS PURE PARADISE DISCIPLINED ONE TASTE BIG JUICY LIPS I THE CLIMAX

  I A BONA EIDE GOLD DIGGER I DOUBLE DLPPLN’

  ! THE ENCHANTRESS DANGERO USLYLN LOVE LNS ATI ABLE PANDORAS BOX

  -nJ

  o

  ■o

  Look for TAMING MADAM M —coming soon!

  N E P R E S E N T S

  A NOVEL

  NO

  BOUNDARIES

  Dear Reader:

  Allison Hobbs is talented and there is no denying that. Amd I do mean all-around talented when it comes to being a prolific writer. From the word imagery to the thorough storylines to the incredible erotic scenes to an always climactic ending. In No Boundaries, she does it again since she is a writer that has never believed in boundaries.

  Sometimes in life, we meet one person who literally changes our entire life. Such is the case with the main characters in this book, Fonia and Jaguar. Fonia was raised in a strict, dysfunctional household with a mother willing to do whatever it took to keep a man. She has no sense of normalcy when it comes to healthy relationships. Jaguar has had more casual sex than any one man can appreciate and decides that he wants to refrain from the random acts of blowing out backs until he can find emotional attachment. Two strangers leading completely different lives end up finding the missing pieces to happiness within each other. Both will have to make a certain degree of sacrifice to make it work, but it is all well worth it in the end.

  As always, thanks for supporting myself and the Strebor Books family. We strive to bring you cutting-edge literature that cannot be found anyplace else. For more information on our titles, please visit Zanestore.com. My personal web site is Eroticanoir.com and my Facebook page is Facebook.com/ AuthorZane.

  Blessings,

  Publisher

  Strebor Books International

  WWW. simonandschuster. com/ streborbooks

  Also By Allison Hobbs The Secrets of Silk Misty

  With This Ring Put A Ring On It Brick

  Scandalicious Lipstick Hustla Stealing Candy The Sorceress Pure Paradise Disciplined One Taste Big Juicy Lips The Climax

  A Bona Fide Gold Digger The Enchantress Double Dippin ’ Dangerously in Love Insatiable Pandora’’s Box

  Writing As Joelle Sterling Forbidden Feast The Dark Hunger Midnight Cravings

  With Karen E. Quinones Miller Hittin’ It Out the Park

  To Aletha Dempsey

  Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from Kahle/Austin Foundation

  https://archive.0rg/details/noboundariesnoveOOOOhobb

  JAGUAR

  B utt-ass naked and covered with water beads, I came out of the bathroom and froze. The woman in my room covered her mouth and released a sound of shock Neither of us had expected this encounter. She took a step backward, and I reflexively concealed my privates with both hands.

  The cleaning woman gawked at me, and then lowered her eyes. “I knocked. You didn’t put out the Do Not Disturb sign; I thought you had gone for the day!”

  “No, I’m still here,” I said dumbly. Momentarily stunned from the surprise of finding an unfamiliar woman in my room, I stood unmoving as I shielded a dick that had become overly active, thumping against my hand as if it wanted to come out and say, “hello.”

  “I’ll come back later.” She backed up a little more, yet her, eyes remained glued to my face, and then scanned the length of my naked body.

  She was basic-looking. Late twenties, medium height, with wide hips and average-sized breasts. A Latino chick with red-tinted hair that was pulled back in a small bun.

  2 Allison Hobbs

  On a scale of one to ten, she was a five. Despite her plain face and unremarkable figure, my dick jerked spastically beneath my hands. I think it was the uniform that had me going; the maid’s uniform was a turn-on.

  Noticing the movement below, her eyes shot down to my crotch.

  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated with a Spanish accent. The accent was sexy, and had a hypnotic quality, influencing my dick the way a snake charmer’s melody draws a serpent out of hiding. I felt the head of my serpent pressing against my palm and then peeking through the space between my fingers.

  “Oh,” she murmured. And my dick took that single utterance as permission to stand fully erect, shoving so forcefully, it pushed my hands aside. At that point, my mind grew hazy, and the primitive part of my nature took over. I was instantly motivated by my animalistic side. Like a dog in heat, I was aware of nothing except my sexual urges. The business appointment that had been lined up for me no longer seemed important. All that mattered was pacifying my throbbing phallus—appeasing its desire to plunge inside something warm and wet.

  But despite being mentally incapacitated, I wasn’t so far gone that I’d overpower the maid...or any other woman for that matter. I’d never forcibly take what I wanted; I’m not a rapist. I understand a firm “no,” and hearing that word would immediately bring me back to my senses.

  And so, wondering if the maid and I were in mutual agreement, my questioning eyes locked on to hers. She didn’t say a word, and I took the excited glimmer in her eyes as consent.

  Propelled by lust, I took steps toward her. I glanced at my image in the mirror and saw what the maid saw: a tall, milk chocolate brother with a body that was well- toned from years of playing basketball. I didn’t own any workout equipment, and during law school, my demanding schedule prevented me from working out at the gym, but I’d always made time for recreational basketball. Even if it was only two or three times a month, I found time to get my hands on a basketball. I’d been shooting hoops for as long as I could remember. Where I come from, dudes start practicing their dunk shots as soon as they can hold a basketball.

  The maid began to undo the first few buttons of her uniform. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, ''Leave the uniform onf but her fingers were working so quickly, I couldn’t stop her. Maybe I’m a little twisted, but to me, there’s something extremely erotic about a woman wearing a uniform—any kind of uniform. A policewoman, waitress, postal worker, flight attendant, even an aggravating meter maid could make my dick get hard.

  The grayish-blue housekeeping uniform dropped to the floor, and I noticed the nametag pinned to the front. Rayna. Stripped down to bra and panties, I was pleasandy surprised when Rayna unsnapped her bra, exposing pert

  breasts with dark, rose-colored nipples. Rayna’s nipples were distended, jutting out like tiny corkscrews, and seemed to scream, ^^Suck me!’’'

  I advanced toward Rayna with my lips parted. She pulled down her panties and kicked them off, showing off a forest of c
urly, pubic hair. Female genitalia could be waxed clean or hairy as a jungle; it didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was the way it felt inside. With no time for foreplay, I practically dove on top of her, lifting up her right leg as I fitted the head of my dick into her moist opening.

  “Oh, papi,” she whimpered, gyrating and taking in several inches of dick-length. Her pussy was good and gushy, and I moaned with pleasure as I sank into a swamp of warm honey. I slow stroked for a few moments, and then kicked it into high gear. I was ready to start plunging in and out like a ferocious madman, but forced myself to slow down and savor the experience.

  My lips sought out those erect, suckable nipples, and I made all kinds of heathen-like grunting sounds as I sucked her titties and fucked her pussy at the same time. Ra)ma may have only been a five in the looks department, but her pussy was off the scale. It was sloppy wet like it was crying, and her inner walls clutched and grabbed possessively; it felt like her pussy was throwing a tantrum. Her walls were like a velvet vise around my dick—a vise that kept getting tighter and tighter.

  “Damn, baby. This shit is...” I couldn’t even finish the

  sentence. Could only breathe like a dragon and groan like a tortured beast.

  “Go deeper, papi,” Rayna moaned, throwing up her other leg. I knew what she wanted. When a chick says go deeper, she doesn’t necessarily want you to knock her uterus out of place, she wants you to find that elusive patch of pleasure known as the G-spot. She wants you to go deeper so she can bust a prolonged and powerful nut. Finding that hidden pleasure place can be a daunting task, especially when you don’t know the woman’s body, or when you’re pressed for time. From my experiences, Fd discovered that iff turn a chick over on her stomach, and take her from behind, I stand a good chance of locating the pleasure zone.

  So I repositioned Rayna, and slipped my dick between her voluptuous thighs, which were tightly pressed together. Anchoring myself, I cupped her breasts, squeezing them as I slid in and out of her syrupy juices. Her pussy felt so good, I had to play all kinds of mind games with myself to keep from nutting too soon.

  With each down stroke, I allowed the head of my dick to caress her clit before reentering her pussy. Rayna lay beneath me with her face pressed into the pillow, emitting sounds that were a cross between singing and screaming. Fm not a selfish lover, I enjoy pleasing women. Even at a time like this when it would behoove me to bust quickly and get my ass to my appointment on time, I refused to rush. I took the time to make sure she got hers.

  I kissed the back of her neck. Nibbled on her ear. “Rayna, baby. You feel so good,” I whispered, meaning every word as I maintained steady strokes.

  Her moans escalated in volume and her creamy pussy seemed to vibrate, pop, and spit. She was cumming, but I didn’t take that as my cue to climax; I kept stroking, increasing the tempo as I intensified her pleasure. I didn’t shoot off my load until Rayna had uttered a final whimper.

  I’m street-wise, book smart, and I also have a sensitive side. Added to my list of attributes, is the fact that I’m well-endowed and good in bed. My heightened sensitivity and enhanced bedroom skills often give chicks the wrong message, prompting them to become attached to me.

  As I eased out of Rayna’s hairy pussy, I could only hope she’d take this spur-of-the-moment sex session for what it was. Nothing but two people fulfilling their lustful desires.

  She turned over on her back and smiled up at me. I gently wiped perspiration from her forehead and lightly caressed her hair. “That was amazing,” I said with one eye on the clock.

  “Yes, it was,” she agreed, lifting her mouth to mine.

  I didn’t have time for kissing and cuddling, and so I gave her a quick kiss, and rolled off of her.

  She clutched my arm. “Wanna go again?”

  “Sorry, I’m already late for an appointment. Maybe some other time.”

  “When? I could come back later tonight.”

  “Um, I don’t know,” I said, feeling pressured and put on the spot. “Let’s play it by ear and get together the next time we’re both in the mood,” I said as gently as I could.

  “I’m in the mood now,” she said determinedly.

  The chick was persistent. She had me squirming for a moment, but then I became irritated. “Yo, we both got what we wanted, so grab your clothes, get dressed, and bounce. You can come back and clean up in here later,” I said harshly. I didn’t want to go in on her like that, but if I hadn’t, she would have kept pestering me.

  My sensitive side gets overpowered by a mean streak that emerges when someone tries to back me in a corner and force my will. I had business to take care of and I couldn’t allow this random, housekeeping chick to guilt- trip me into setting up a future rendezvous.

  Rolling her eyes and mumbling in Spanish, Rayna gave me a seething look as she picked up her clothes from the floor. After dressing, she fussed with her hair, and then slammed the door on her way out.

  I washed my dick off, dressed and left my hotel room. On the way to the elevator, I bumped into Rayna, who was pushing her cleaning cart down the corridor. Having to walk past her was awkward. “See you later,” I said, not knowing what else to say under the circumstances.

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon,” she replied, wearing a hopeful smile, which I chose to ignore.

  I grabbed a cab outside the hotel and headed to University City to meet up with my man, Sharif, to get the details on a bartending job.

  FONIA

  I am completely submissive—the kind of woman who needs a man to totally dominate me and take control of my body and my mind. Eagerly and lovingly., I sefwe. I live to please, and I derive intense sexual pleasure from being physically disciplined. Nothing that draws blood or leaves me unconscious, but I do melt with ecstasy when 1 feel the sting of a paddle or the harsh slap of a man’s strong hand against my soft skin.

  I have no idea how to exist any other way. From the time I was a child, I was molded and groomed to be docile and polite — to be subservient. Em not allowed to express my opinions or to disagree. Em always adorned in beautiful clothes and sparkling jewelry. From head to toe, Em the image of peffection. A pretty thing—a wind-up doll that does exactly as she’s told.

  orowm

  2003

  Before I’d ever met Mr. Lord, I sensed the influence he had over my mother, and I viewed him as a rival for her attention. She’d been hired as his personal secretary and the way she spoke his name, you’d think she was

  referring to God Himself. When-ever she spoke of him, her face would light up and there was reverence in her voice. Though I was only eleven years old, I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach—a kind of warning. I knew on an intuitive level that nothing would ever be the same.

  I recall watching my mother as she sat at her vanity table, carefully applying makeup, getting glammed-up as she excitedly prepared to leave town on a business trip with her new employer. I frowned at the sight of the open suitcase on her bed, and then sat next to her on the vanity bench, pouting and sighing audibly.

  “I’ll only be gone for seven days. The time will fly,” she said, trying to pacify me.

  “But I’m gonna have to catch two buses to get to school from Nana’s house,” I complained. Getting to school from Nana’s house wasn’t a big deal, but it was worth a try to pretend that it was.

  “So, you’ll get up a half-hour earlier than usual. A Utde inconvenience won’t kill you, Fonia.” She tapped the end of my nose, something she always did to get me to smile, but I maintained an unhappy expression, hoping my gloomy disposition would persuade her to cancel her trip.

  “My new job pays a lot more than I’ve ever earned. We’re going to be doing a lot better financially.”

  “We’re doing okay,” I said.

  “We’re going to be doing better than okay. You’ll see,” she said as she sprayed her neck and wrists with cologne.

  “How do I look?” She stood up and gazed at me, waiting for my approval.

  Wearing a tailored black jacket with gold buttons, a form-fitting skirt, and high heels, my statuesque mother looked chic and beautiful, like a beauty queen going out on a speaking engagement. I turned up my nose and shrugged; I was feeling too abandoned to dole out any compliments. This would be the first time in my life that my mother had traipsed off and left me for an entire week!

  Her new job was very demanding and didn’t end at five o’clock. As Mr. Lord’s personal secretary, she was at his beck and call any hour of the day or night. She could be in the midst of preparing dinner or helping me with homework, but if her boss called, she’d go to her bedroom and close the door. Their working relationship seemed shrouded in secrecy.