Trained by her Caresses E-Book

Amélie Moigne

• Herausgeber: Ô Plaisir - INT
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 162

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

He always gets what he wants… until he meets her.

In the heart of the village of Beaulieu-sur-Mer, Damien is used to success. Handsome, arrogant, and dangerously seductive, he has never doubted his ability to charm women and bend them to his will.

And it works. Every time.

Every woman falls under his spell.

All of them?

Penelope seems immune to his charms. Confident, enigmatic, and unapologetically dominant, she plays by her own rules. What begins as a clash of egos quickly turns into a dangerous erotic game of challenges, power shifts, and delicious submission.

Damien is determined to make her his… but what if surrendering control awakens a pleasure he never knew he craved?

A provocative erotic romance where roles reverse, desire intensifies, and domination becomes irresistible.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Amélie Moigne is ageless; a free spirit, writing about the pleasures that cross her mind. These novels are the indecent scenarios she gleefully shares with her readers... After her bestseller, “Dominated by my boss and his nephews,” she now unveils a new addictive novel.

Leseprobe

Cover

Title page

Prologue

Damien Galard had just turned 22. Standing six feet tall, he was the incarnation of the perfect asshole.

His ideal physique was matched by a self-centered mind that enjoyed satisfying his own desires. He had little consideration for women, yet he prided himself on seducing them and having them under his thumb; he took pleasure in fucking them left and right, treating them like whores.

It didn’t bother him, and according to him, it didn’t bother them either. Ever since he’d bulked up at 16, that smug, show-off’s smile had settled on his lips, and he’d taken on the aura of a mysterious blond, he’d had a string of girls in his bed and elsewhere.

They were all asking for it anyway, to become his. The world might take offense at male behavior, but the chicks weren’t any better. They were superficial, loved getting pounded by a vigorous young cock, and were willing to do anything to please the “trophy” they coveted.

Because yes, for all the ones he’d screwed, he had just been a pretty prize. That was his certainty. From the young women his own age to the middle-aged women in crisis, he was just a victory. The fact was, it didn’t bother him because he always ended up making them his things. Any girl became an object of lust, a little bitch, a big slut, it didn’t matter, she became his whore for the time it took him to fuck her. And until he got bored of her.

From his deflowering by the mother of a very good friend to that huge slut Marie, he had never had any consideration for a woman.

His family history, however, wasn’t burdened by any trauma related to an absent mother or anything like that. He was simply an asshole who had gotten drunk on his power of seduction and who had a rather nasty nature.

In short, a guy, a human, a dude like any other.

Did he only have flaws?

I couldn’t say. He was selfish, self-centered, cold, and potentially quick-tempered. But he had a certain sense of humor, a cock to die for, and a desire to devour life with gusto.

In itself, since nobody’s perfect, he wasn’t. Which, between you and me, suits me just fine, because otherwise this story would be of no interest.

Chapter 1

Damien Galard lived in a village in the South of France: Beaulieu sur Mer. Nestled by the beaches, surrounded by lush vegetation, there was, at the heart of this Provençal world, a very present trace of a certain luxury. The standard of living wasn’t shitty, and it was generally a good place to live.

In any case, he lived there very well.

He had lived there since he was twelve, since his uncle had taken him under his wing after his parents’ death. Raised by a consummate asshole, he had become one himself. That must have explained his character. To tell the truth, his uncle was a hardened bachelor, determined to fuck and have conquests, often younger than him, for his own complete pleasure. That didn’t make him a bad guy, he was just… like that!

Damien hadn’t wanted to pursue higher education, and besides, he wasn’t an intellectual. No, what he loved was cooking, and more specifically the art of the baker-pastry chef. So, he had directed his life’s path toward this work.

With his vocational certificate in hand, he had stayed at the Paradis bakery. The owner had greatly appreciated this apprentice, so much so that he had made him his only employee in the bakery.

The business was a small, traditional world in its field, offering delectable bread that supplied the whole neighborhood. The owners, Jean and Lucy Martin, were village natives approaching fifty. It was clear that when the baker retired, he would arrange to pass his establishment on to his only employee, something that suited the dear boy perfectly.

All was for the best in the best of all possible worlds.

As he did every morning, he was in the bakery to start the first batch. It was located in the basement, and the smells of pastries were completely enveloping him.

When he found himself isolated here, he felt in his rightful place. Jean had left him in charge of the shop along with Lucy and had gone to visit his mother in the Var. Hospitalized urgently for a minor lung problem, Jean had gotten worried and decided to go sort everything out for a short week. Damien had reassured him: he could count on him and his presence. Of course, the fifty-year-old had promised him a handsome bonus for his dedication. Which suited our protagonist just fine.

The couple lived the old-fashioned way, above the bakery, in a two-story apartment, but he hadn’t disturbed Lucy and had taken up his duties peacefully. He knew she would come around 5:15. Lucy always arrived at that predictable, punctual time; he didn’t even check the time as he prepared his next baguettes for the day.

His blond hair, structured with gel, was perfectly styled on top of his head. His chiseled jaw, his clear blue eyes, he had shaved his face very closely and his impeccable skin was ideally smooth.

He wore a full white work uniform, and it only made his muscular build look sexier. The marks of his tattoos could be seen escaping from his rolled-up sleeves on his forearms. Symbols from video games he loved, like the power runes from The Witcher or a colorful picture of the crew from One Piece.

On his neck, rising from his torso, were two symmetrical ink traces of a Phoenix’s wings descending onto his chest.

Focused, he nonetheless sensed the presence of a figure, that of the owner, who finally arrived in the bakery.

Lucy was closer to fifty than in the middle of it. She was 48 or 49 and was still a fuckable girl… far from the cliché of the baker’s wife who lets herself go, she was from that generation of chicks who didn’t quite want to grow old. That’s why her breasts had been lifted, not cheated with implants, but simply put back in place so gravity wouldn’t mess with them too much.

She kept in shape; her figure was easily a match for any young twenty-year-old girl; between her muscular ass and her flat stomach, you had to admit there was nothing to throw away.

Lucy was a beautiful mixed-race woman with golden skin. Partly Caribbean, originally from Saint Lucia, what he loved most when he looked at her was her head of tight, curly hair that formed a halo around her face. A halo she never tamed by straightening it, but took great care of, soaking it in expensive products, which made her smell of coconut. He loved that smell.

“Hi, Lucy, I’m almost done.”

Surprised, she let herself smile, and so did he. Without turning towards her, loading his last batch, he wiped his hands and finally looked at her.

God, she was so fuckable! Lucy wasn’t a MILF, because she’d never had children; she was more of a cougar. A fucking cougar who was already making him hard.

“I hope you didn’t wear any underwear under there; I really want to fuck you right against the workbench.”

He sneered.

He’d been fucking the boss’s wife for two years. Jean was completely clueless; his bitch of a wife got nailed whenever she could in every corner of the bakery and the apartment. He’d even fucked her while her husband was still asleep, in their own bathroom. And since she was getting laid by the young employee, he not only got to be in her good books, but the couple was much more fulfilled.

Strangely, Lucy wasn’t the type to demand to be the only one or that kind of nonsense. She loved Jean, but Jean had trouble getting it up and didn’t much, due to heart problems. So, she got screwed like a slut by the young employee.

Sometimes he wondered if the boss knew, in a voyeuristic kind of way that he, Damien, wasn’t informed about. But if that excited them deep down or was some kind of kink in their couple’s sex life, he didn’t give a fuck.

In any case, he was fucking the boss’s wife.

“Why would I have put anything on, hmm?”

Her melodious voice, which had taken on the local accent, made him shiver. Fuck, he was going to start the morning off on the right foot!

When she arrived in front of him, he smiled, looking down at her from his six-foot-two height, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her against his pelvis.

“You’re already making me hard.”

“I can feel that.”

The outline of his cock was now more than obvious in his work pants. Its thickened erection was outlined against the fabric, revealing a considerable length.

Damien knew that when erect, he was a little over 25 cm long with a circumference of 15 cm, more than acceptable measurements. Right?

As a result, his tool was very clearly visible and felt clearly as he pressed it against the woman’s lower belly.

She was wearing a body-hugging dress made of fine wool, revealing she had neither bra nor panties, and without waiting, he lowered the neckline below her chest, making her breasts pop out. Lucy had a beautiful pair, bell-shaped, the curve pronounced under her enormous brown nipples.

“I have such an urge to empty my balls when I see you!”

He didn’t give her time to respond before he kissed her deeply. His tongue sought hers in a wild kiss; he pulled her against the workbench without further ado.

Damien slept with Lucy often enough to have a mastery of her pleasure. She knew she got it good every time, and she wasn’t there for tenderness. It was very likely, in his opinion, that she also loved this youthful ardor that allowed her to still consider herself beautiful.

Fondling her chest during the kiss, he pulled on her left nipple and slapped the roundness of her breast before grabbing her magnificent head of kinky hair and holding her at his mercy.

He could already see her trembling. He could already discern her reveling in this kind of scenario. He could already admire the details of her desire. Fuck, it was exhilarating.

“Tell me you’re a bitch.”

“I’m a bitch.”

“I want to fuck you in the ass…”

Lucy’s eyes widened. Even though he had sodomized her before, she didn’t specifically like it, and he laughed with pleasure. However, she couldn’t refuse him things if she was a bitch, right?

“You don’t like that, huh?”

“Not really…”

“And then you dare tell me you’re a bitch… tsss… go suck it, you slut.”

He pulled her face against the fabric of his pants and, with a skilled hand, pulled out his penis under her nose. With the enormous cock under the woman’s pupils, he ordered her to stick out her tongue. A sigh escaped him as soon as he tapped his hardened member against it.

His dick stood perfectly erect, the three beautiful veins swollen to the max snaking along its entire length. His entire glans was exposed as he stroked himself, and he forced her to gobble his balls.

Putting her in an uncomfortable position, bent in half, excited him. Holding her by the hair did too. When his balls met the moisture of her tongue, he let out a moan.

“Eat my balls well, go on.”

It was something he loved, having his testicles touched, having them swallowed, and having the tongue sometimes stray a little further.

She then proceeded to lick them as she should before carefully taking them between her lips. He decided to play with her breasts because she deserved a little attention, but he didn’t linger too long.

After a few minutes, he pulled her up again, flipped her over, torso forward onto the counter, and pinned the top of her body against it. Lifting her little dress over her hips, he revealed a perfectly shaved pussy with thick, wet lips… he gave it a light slap.

“You fingered yourself before coming down, didn’t you?”

He knew her; she’d get impatient alone and then show up. Without giving her time to answer, holding her with one hand, he licked his index and middle fingers before sliding them into her juicy slit.

“Oh! Damien!”

“What?”

“Please…”

“No…”

He started moving his fingers back and forth, rediscovering the soft, warm contact of her intimacy. Slipping smoothly into her flesh, he refused to fuck her directly until she had properly said the words. She knew it.

“Damien…”

“Oh, stop complaining, you love it, you slut. And you haven’t given me what I need…”

“I have some in my little pocket!”

She was hiccupping… really, it was so easy. Releasing her but ordering her not to move, he went to fetch the object of his interest from one of the little pockets of her dress: a condom.

He could have fucked her without one, but she never wanted to. He would have preferred to screw her without… no, but frankly, ending up with your dick trapped in a piece of plastic, that’s fine when you don’t know the person at all, but Lucy and he knew each other.

Okay, fine, she knew it was better not to get fucked by him without a little love cap, but still.

A smile spread across his face.

He slipped the condom into his pocket, grabbed his erection, and guided it towards her entrance. He didn’t think and thrust into her abruptly, letting out a sigh of ecstasy.

Oh fuck.

Holding her by the hips, he blocked his pelvis against her ass and stayed still. He could perfectly feel all the contours of her cunt, savoring the enveloping sensation wonderfully, and was satisfied with this presence without plastic. She was warm, moist, and…

“Did you put the condom on?”

“No, I didn’t put anything on.”

“What?”

She tried to resist, but he pinned her to the workbench; with one hand in her hair, he tightened his grip and forced her to stay immobilized. As she struggled, insulting him by calling him a little shit, he sneered.

“That’s cute, my little whore struggling.”

She tried to straighten up, so he grabbed her arms and pulled them away from her, imposing himself on her back, which he crushed. Like a dog in heat, he began to move back and forth, his breath in her ear, he growled with pleasure.

“Dare tell me you don’t like feeling my cock in there, right now…”

“No! I don’t like it!”

“Really?”

He accelerated his pace, closing his grip on her wrists, he squeezed so hard that he elicited a pained yelp from her, then another, as his hips bumped against the edge of the counter and he hammered into her now.

“I… I… don’t like it.”

“I’m fucking you without a condom.”

“I… don’t want to.”

“I can feel your pussy and its heat around my dick.”

“Stop…”

“Oh Lucy, I’m going to shoot everything inside, deep inside, I’m going to redecorate it all with warm cum.”

“No, please, don’t fuck me like that, not like that…”

He realized she was refusing with words, but her body was surrendering, probably bruised by his weight, and she let out that sigh in her voice that meant she loved it! He knew her.

“A bitch in heat, that’s all you are.”

“Yes…”

“You love my cock like that, don’t you, admit it!”

“No… no, never!”

A growl escaped him; disobedient to the end, he grabbed her hair and threw her onto the tiled floor, pouncing on her to pin her down on all fours.

Pulling his pelvis up to a suitable height, he used his foot to pin her head by placing it on the back of her skull. Forcing her cheek against the floor, he penetrated her oozing sex again.

Being inside her once more, fuck. He almost came. Holding back as best he could, his hips met her vagina, which he worked without shame, with powerful thrusts, making her scrape against the floor. It felt so good!

“You still don’t like it?”

“No!”

“Perfect, I’ll come on the tiles then!”

“No… NO! Come… come inside me, please.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yes, please, fuck me hard! Fuck your little bitch hard.”

Under the beautiful woman’s pleas, he went wild. Fuck, it was amazing. He had no more consideration for her, considering her just a hole to fill; he thought only of his own pleasure and headed towards it without detour, admitting it in a groan.

“Take that, you dirty bitch!”

His cock poured its semen where it was needed, and he pulled out, moved away, to fall on his ass on the tiles. Completely out of breath, he still ordered.

“Finish yourself off and come clean me with your mouth. And I want you to show me, okay? No fuss, stay in your bitch position.”

As turned on as she was, it didn’t take more. He, delighted, contemplated that female sex she was titillating, that abused clitoris; she got herself off alone, until she came. Semen dripped from her slit in white drops and her juices coated everything.

With a great, radiant smile on his lips, he watched her come on all fours towards him to clean his member, which had slightly woken up from the show.

When she placed her tongue to clean it, the cock stiffened, again and again. When it was a vigorous erection, without ceremony, he took her hair, lowered her head, and jerked off into her kinky hair.

With his energetic wrist, he used her kinky hair to masturbate and then poured his seed over the top of her skull, letting it drip down. He left a few traces on her forehead and smiled.

“I’m waiting?”

“Thank you, Damien, for fucking me…”

Chapter 2

To catch a movie, the group of friends he was part of would most often head to the cinema in Nice. The one in their town couldn’t compare to the big Pathé or UGC theaters offering special 4DX or IMAX screenings, but it was the kind of place that offered original versions or shows that didn’t run late enough.

Nose buried in his phone, Damien was checking his texts.

Text from Chris — my girlfriend’s driving me nuts, she saw texts from Cass and lost it.

Reply — Want me to distract Cass for a bit? When I mess around with her, she forgets about you for a while. She’ll cling to me, but you’ll owe me one!

Another one popped up.

Text from B. Sweetcheeks — does this make my butt look big?

Looking at the photo, he took a drag from his cigarette with satisfaction. If Bérangère weren’t so stupid, he’d sleep with her more often. But she was dumb as a rock and could drive him crazy in just three sentences.

Reply — Tomorrow, 5 PM, I’ll confirm?

He sent the message just as Chris’s voice and the gang’s laughter echoed nearby. Leaning against his motorcycle, he lifted his head, smiling at the sight of his friends’ silhouettes.