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I knocked on his door
precisely at midnight. This time Geoffrey answered in person.
He wore a robe of some
shimmery material that looked like silk, twilight blue woven with
patterns of gold. His feet were bare. His eyes were hungry.
“Come in, little one,”
he purred, stepping aside so that I could pass. “You’re very
punctual. I gather you’ve learnt your lesson.”
“Yes, sir.” I didn’t
know what else to say. I stood in the middle of the room, eyes cast
down and hands clasped in front of me like a schoolgirl about to
recite. I couldn’t bear to look at him; I was sure I’d lose
control and do something without his permission.
“So you don’t want
another spanking?” he laughed.
A wave of heat sizzled
through me like summer lightning. I wanted his hands on my flesh—I
didn’t care about the pain.
“It’s your choice,” I
whispered. “Spank me if you want to.”
“Not tonight,” he
replied. “For tonight, I have other ideas. Look at me, Sarah.”
I raised my head. He snared
me with his eyes and wouldn’t release me. As usual under his
scrutiny, my nipples tightened and my pussy wept. He seated himself
on the sofa, still holding my gaze, and crossed one leg over the
other.
“Now strip.”
Shame overwhelmed me. I
didn’t understand it. I’d been naked in his presence the night
before last. He had explored my body, inside and out. Why was I
blushing and sweating now?
I wanted to obey him, to
please him. Truly I did. Yet I couldn’t move.
“Sarah?” he queried,
impatience evident in his voice. “Is there a problem?”
Suddenly I understood my
reluctance. It was all about her. I knew that I couldn’t compete. I
glanced around, searching for her photo, not seeing it anywhere.
Perhaps it was in the bedroom, where he could fall asleep gazing upon
her beauty…
“Sarah!” His rebuke
brought my eyes back to his. “If you’re not going to follow
instructions, you might as well go back to your room.”
“Oh no! Please don’t
send me away. I’m sorry.”
I rushed to unbutton my
blouse, not caring whether I was graceful or seductive. His scowl
relaxed as I bared my breasts, my eager nipples all too obviously
erect. His lips shaped themselves into a half-smile as I yanked off
my skirt and tossed it away. That was all it took. I hadn’t worn a
bra or panties for two days.
“Good girl. Why did you
hesitate?”
“I—um—I didn’t know
whether you’d like me. Whether I’d please you. My breasts are so
small…”
“Your breasts are just
fine. Anyway, it’s not your place to worry about such things. When
I tell you to do something, just do it. Don’t question, obey.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
A tiny part of me wanted to protest, to complain, to rage against him
for using me to dull his desire for his true love. Then he flicked
his robe open, revealing his rampant erection. Any thought of
resistance vanished. I wanted to be used.
“Kneel,” he commanded.
“Suck me.”
I bruised my knees in my
hurry to comply.
His cock rose proudly from
its thicket of black curls. It bobbed in my face, the fat olive shaft
ropy with veins, the livid bulb reminding me of a ripe berry. My
mouth watered. His rich, musky smell swirled around me, making me
hungry. Taking a deep breath, I bent to the task he had assigned me.
I swirled my tongue around
the tip, then trailed it along his length. His skin was silk
stretched over granite, salty and smooth, unutterably delicious.
Moisture seeped from the slit. I gathered it with my tongue,
savouring the slight bitterness.
“Not so delicate, girl,”
he growled.
He seized my hair and
pulled my face to his crotch. I stretched my lips wide, trying to
accommodate his bulk. With a grunt, he rammed his swollen penis down
my throat. I choked, suddenly unable to breathe.
Sensing my distress, he
backed off. I gulped air into my lungs. He waited until I opened my
mouth as wide as I could before he plunged back in. This time I was
ready. I relaxed my muscles and allowed him to thrust against my
palate. He pulled back then drove his rod back in, deeper than
before.
I tried to suck, to
stimulate him with my teeth and tongue, but he was in control. All I
could do was open myself and let him take me. He fucked my mouth with
the same fury that he’d used on my pussy. It was glorious. I was
the vessel of his pleasure. I wanted nothing more.
He held my head and jerked
his cock in and out of my mouth. Saliva dribbled out the corners of
my lips. Each stroke buried my nose in the fragrant nest at his root.
I sensed the tension building in him, power rippling up his shaft.
Please, master, I silently begged. Let me taste you.
He granted my prayer. His
cock convulsed against my tongue and flooded my mouth with his warm
cum. It flowed and flowed—I swallowed what I could, finding it
sweet and slightly chalky—but some spilt down my chin and onto my
breasts.
When the flood ebbed, he
withdrew and sat back on the couch. I remained where I was, kneeling
before him with my head bowed. I could feel his eyes raking over me.
I was acutely conscious of my tangled hair, my saliva-streaked
cheeks, the sticky mess drying on my chest. I knew he could see the
wetness coating my parted thighs and smell the ocean aroma rising
from my pussy.
“What do you have to say,
girl?”
I looked up. His x-ray eyes
bored into me, through the last layers of pride and artifice. I spoke
from my heart.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you,
Sarah.”
Geoffrey raised me from the
floor and pulled me into his lap, then fastened his lips on my
bruised mouth. His kiss was like a draught of clear water, profound
and refreshing. I melted into him, a deep peace stealing over me. He
stroked my hair and traced little circles around my nipples, then
licked the droplets of cum from my chin.
“You did well. I know
that you’re not used to all this, but you’re learning fast.”
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