The Saint: The Original Sinners Book 5 (36 page)

“But you had to leave Rex behind.”

“Right. I didn’t want him to know I was going. If he tried to talk me out of it, he might have. So I knew it would be our last time for a few months at least. I went to his house one evening. He wasn’t expecting me. My flight left the very next morning, but I didn’t tell him that.”

“What did he do?”

“He opened the door and saw him standing on the stoop. And he pulled me inside and without saying anything he kissed me.”

“Very nice.”

“I loved when he did that. Every time I showed up on his doorstep, I was afraid I’d make him mad. Maybe he’d have company over or something and wish I hadn’t shown up. I wasn’t even his mistress. I was just his dirty secret. But every time I went over there...yeah, just like that.”

“And then?”

“And then he was all over me...right in the foyer. I had on a plaid skirt—”

“How very Catholic schoolgirl of you.”

“Episcopal actually.”

“Don’t kill my lady-boner. I’m pretending it was Catholic. Go on. He was all over you how?”

“Hands everywhere. Mouth everywhere. He liked to bite when he kissed me. My lips and tongue and neck and ears. He’d dig under my skirt and shove his hand into my panties.”

“You wore panties around him? Such a waste of time.”

“Only because I loved hearing him grunt with frustration when he had to drag them off of me.”

“I like your style. And I’m about to touch your clit and vagina. Continue.”

Sheridan stiffened but kept talking.

“So yes...plaid skirt,” Sheridan said and inhaled right as The Mistress put her fingertip gently to her clitoris. Her whole body tensed but The Mistress did nothing and said nothing, merely waited. Sheridan continued. “And there was this table in the foyer—fancy table. His housekeeper always kept fresh flowers on it.”

“How nice.” The Mistress gently kneaded Sheridan’s clitoris with one finger. The attentions The Mistress had paid to Sheridan’s breasts had sent the blood flowing in the right direction. Sheridan’s labia had started to open and her clitoris had swollen slightly.

“Those poor flowers never knew what hit them. Everything on that table hit the floor when Rex bent me over it.”

“That devil,” The Mistress said as she lightly increased the pressure on Sheridan’s clitoris, increased the speed of her movements.

“He was.”

“Tell me what you remember feeling. Tell me in detail. And while you’re talking, try to remember every sensation he aroused in you....” The Mistress ran a single finger up and down the seam of Sheridan’s vagina. “While you remember, imagine yourself getting wetter and wetter, think of all the blood rushing to your labia and your vagina opening....”

Sheridan inhaled slowly and nodded her head. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Now keep talking. I might go inside you soon.”

The Mistress watched Sheridan’s thin fingers dig into the silk of the cushions. But she raised no protest.

“So Rex bent me over this table in the foyer. I remember the cool slick wood under my right cheek. I held onto the sides as he dragged my panties down my legs.”

Again and again, The Mistress ran her finger up and down Sheridan’s slit and felt it grow wetter and warmer to the touch.

“And once he had my panties off, he shoved my legs open. Practically kicked them open.”

“Wicked man. You must have loved it.”

“God, yes. I was scared, though. It was all happening so fast and Rex was pretty big. He could hurt me if he went in too fast.”

“I think most men need the word
foreplay
tattooed on their cocks. Like a Post-it note—just permanent.”

Sheridan grinned as she lifted her hips a few inches off the pillow. Squirmy thing. Another good sign.

“Truth. But that time Rex managed to control himself enough. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in me.”

“There might be some redemption for this man. Continue.”

The Mistress pressed open Sheridan’s labia. The girl was soaking wet inside. Gently The Mistress massaged her outer lips in an effort to bring even more blood flowing to her clitoris.

“He attacked me with his tongue, pushed it all the way inside me. It was weird feeling him at that angle. Usually when he went down on me I was on my back, not on my stomach sprawled across a table. But it was a good weird, a good angle. I got so wet you could hear it when he stuck his fingers in me.”

“How many fingers?”

“Three or four. Can’t remember. Couldn’t tell. They slid right in, I was so wet by then. Slid in deep. He traded off...he used his fingers on me for a minute or two...then back to oral—he loved to lick me. He’d spread me open really wide and just dive in face first.”

“If he loves going down on women, he can’t be all that bad.”

“He wasn’t...really, he wasn’t. And sometimes he was even good.”

“When he was fucking you?”

“Exactly. Yeah, so he fucked me with his fingers until I was dripping for him.”

“You’re dripping for me,” The Mistress told her with a smile. She still hadn’t gone inside Sheridan yet wanting to hold off as long as possible.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.”

“I know my way around a vagina. Go on with the story.”

“So when I was dripping wet for him, he stood up and unbuckled his belt.”

“I love that sound.”

Sheridan murmured her agreement. “He was good at that, too...unbuckling his belt with one hand while his other hand got his cock out....”

The Mistress bit her lip to stifle a laugh. America’s Sweetheart had an exquisitely dirty mouth when turned on enough.

“I was dying....” Sheridan said as she moved her hands to her own breasts and began to touch her nipples. “I wanted him inside me so fucking much. No matter how fast he moved, it wasn’t fast enough. I think I begged. Out loud maybe. I know I said ‘Please.’”

“Did he please?”

“Oh, yeah, he pleased. He pleased hard,” Sheridan said with a giggle so amorous she sounded intoxicated. “He slammed into me in one stroke. My hips had bruises on them the next morning from how hard he went it. I kept going to the bathroom just to look at them. He owned me with that thrust.”

He owned me
...
.
The Mistress had pegged Sheridan as a submissive. With three words she outed herself.

“On the opposite of the foyer was this big mirror. I remember turning my head and watching him as he fucked me.”

“I love doing that. Men think they’re the visual ones, but who needs internet porn when you’ve got a mirror at the end of your bed?”

“I should get one. God, it was amazing watching him. I’d never done that before really...watched him while he fucked me. He was almost out of his mind. He wasn’t even holding onto me, just the edge of the table. He just...” Sheridan paused for a breath and to open her thighs even wider. Good, The Mistress thought. Sheridan was close to going out of her mind waiting to be penetrated. “He just pounded me. It was brutal. I heard the table feet scraping the tile floor. And he was grunting and panting like he was in pain almost. You should have seen him...I did see him. I still can see him.”

The Mistress let Sheridan fall silent. The girl was no doubt lost in the most erotic memory of her life, the memory of a man so consumed with lust for her he nearly ate her alive in the foyer of his town house before he even could be bothered with a “hello.”

“What else can you see?” The Mistress asked as she opened Sheridan wider and stroked her inner lips. The girl was slick with desire and remembered passion.

“He grabbed the back of my neck and held me down hard against the table. He was absolutely ramming into me by that point. I don’t know...it was like he knew that would be our last night together even though I hadn’t told him.”

“Did you orgasm then?”

Sheridan shook her head. “No. He came first. Loudly. Usually he was so quiet during sex, really intense. But that time he just groaned. I usually couldn’t feel it when he came, either, but that night I did. When he pulled out, his cum dribbled down my legs and onto the floor.”

“I hope he had a forgiving housekeeper.”

“He left me laying on table while he zipped his pants back up. Then he grabbed me and picked me up. I laughed out loud at that. Crazy... It was so
Gone With the Wind
, him carrying me up the stairs. I told him I could walk.”

“You look like you weigh about ninety-five pounds. Let the man carry you.”

“I did and I loved it. I loved it when he threw me onto his bed upstairs. And I loved it when he took his belt and whipped the back of my legs with it.”

“Ohh...masochistic streak. I can work with that.”

“I hope you do, Mistress,” Sheridan said, her voice dropping an octave. “He didn’t hit me very often. Didn’t want anyone seeing the welts.”

“Occupational hazard in my world. Our world,” The Mistress corrected. The sooner Sheridan accepted her kinky side, the sooner she’d be able to enjoy sex again.

“Exactly. But I was eighteen then and we were wild that night. He whipped me from ass to ankles....”

“I’m putting that on my to-do list.”

“And then he tied to me to the bed on my back. He was already hard again. He crawled on top of me...I loved looking at him. I don’t know why but he always wore his suit during sex. Never undressed. He’d take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves, but that was it. He’d leave on the vest or his tie... I loved it, though. It felt so dirty being naked while he was fully dressed in his sexy business suits. Maybe that’s why he did it.”

The Mistress kept her mouth shut. A man in his late thirties, early forties, having an affair with beautiful a teenage girl? She knew exactly why he kept his clothes on during sex. Sheridan’s lover didn’t want her seeing his aging body. But The Mistress didn’t tell Sheridan that.

“What did he do then?”

“He fucked me again. Not as hard this time. Slower...much slower. It was always slower the second time. And he finally kissed me. And while he was kissing me he started rubbing my clit. That was my favorite...when he touched my clit while inside me. I came every time when he did that.”

“Like this?”

The Mistress turned her hand and pushed three fingers deep into Sheridan’s body as she carefully rubbed her clitoris with her other hand. As the first penetration, Sheridan gasped and dug her hands back into the cushions.

She nodded mutely. Just like that.

“Keep remembering, Sheridan,” The Mistress ordered. “But don’t talk. Just remember how good it felt, this man on top of you and inside you, and how it felt when you hit that moment when the pressure starts to build and you know if he just keeps doing exactly what he’s doing you’re going to come and come hard....”

The Mistress pushed the knuckle of her thumb into Sheridan’s G-spot and smiled as the girl flinched with pleasure. Sheridan’s head fell back and the heels of her shoes dug so hard into the silk cushion that the fabric started to rip. Lost in ecstasy, Sheridan didn’t even seem to notice.

A lifetime of experience with the female orgasm had taught The Mistress that all she had to do now was not stop. A red flush spread across Sheridan’s chest. Her breathing had quickened wildly. Every muscle in her legs had gone taut. The Mistress pushed in another finger and the girl’s body opened to her like a flower. With a little lube, she could have shoved her whole hand into the girl. But they’d save that for next time. Now all that mattered was getting Sheridan to the edge and pushing her over it.

“I want you to come for me, Sheridan. I’m ordering you to come for me. I’m not taking off that blindfold or letting you out of this room until you come for me. I don’t care if takes all night. You can do this.”

“I don’t know...it’s been years...I—”

“It’s not you, Sheridan. It’s them. The guys you’ve been with who didn’t understand who you are and what you are. You can orgasm. There’s nothing wrong with you. They didn’t know what they were doing. Vanilla sex with a guy who treats you like his best buddy isn’t going to do for it. And it shouldn’t. You deserve better sex than that. You belong at the feet of a man who owns you and treats you like his property and inflicts orgasms on you like a punishment....”

“Oh, God...” she panted between breaths.

The Mistress pushed harder onto her clitoris, moved her hand faster and deeper insider her vagina....

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Little Miss.”

Sheridan’s hips rose again off the cushion and hovered a few inches in the air.

“This nothing wrong with you at all,” The Mistress said and shoved in once more.

With a loud and lusty cry, Sheridan’s back arched, her body froze, and every muscle inside her fluttered wildly, almost painfully around The Mistress’s hand as an orgasm years in the making ripped through the girl and sent fluid pouring out of her and onto the red silk.

When the last contraction subsided, The Mistress carefully pulled out of Sheridan and let the girl take a few minutes to breathe.

Sheridan’s breathing slowed. The Mistress grinned as a laugh, a beautiful tired laugh, escaped Sheridan’s lips, and a smile as wide as the sky spread across her face. Nowhere on the girl’s face did The Mistress see shame or self-loathing or fear.

The Mistress reached behind Sheridan’s head and untied the blindfold. Sheridan blinked a few times and looked up into The Mistress’s eyes.

“I can’t believe that happened,” she said in a faint whisper. “I haven’t come with another person in years.”

“Welcome back. Next session I’ll give you two orgasms. But you better tip well.”

“God, you’re good at this, Mistress.”

And for reasons that The Mistress couldn’t explain—and wouldn’t explain—and certainly would never apologize for, she gave the girl the quickest of kisses on her lips.

“Told you so.”

End of Session One

Jesus H. Christ, Kingsley. Stop reading over my shoulder. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate with you breathing in my goddamn ear? I can hear your erection.

Kingsley...what are you doing? Stop biting me. I’m still typing here. I’m typing all of this. I want your biting me in the permanent record.

Could someone tell Kingsley to please stop biting me?