“Poppaea,” he groaned huskily as he crawled up her body, lowering his hips to rub against her moist core. Gods he could drown in those big melting eyes. She reached up to run her hands through his hair making him shiver.
“You’re so… beautiful,” she murmured dreamily startling him.
“Me?” What the hell?
“Yes,” she smiled tremulously and ran a slow hand over his chest and then down over his hard abdominal muscles.
He sucked in a breath, praying for self-control. He needed to take it slow this time. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she was making it hard. Making him hard. He rubbed his cock against her waiting for her expression to turn to one of trepidation. Instead she smiled bravely up at him, raising her knees to cradle his hips. He felt something in his chest clench, robbing him of his breath.
“Poppaea,” he whispered hoarsely. “Gods, I want you.” He had a bad feeling he wasn’t just talking about the imminent sex. He pushed that disturbing thought to the back of his mind as she reached up and slid her arms up his back. He nearly lost it when she leant forward to trail soft kisses across his chest.
“Don’t,” he groaned. “I’ve only got so much self-control.” A funny thing for a sex droid to come out with but he didn’t think he’d been that convincing from the get-go so why start now?
“Blaise,” she murmured huskily and suddenly he was pushing inside her, desperate for her. More desperate than he’d ever been for a woman in his life.
“Just relax and let me in,” he practically begged her.
In answer she turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest, tightening her arms around his back. He gave silent thanks as he thrust and finally pushed in all the way home with a hoarse cry.
“Poppaea,” he shuddered. “Oh gods, Poppaea!”
Poppaea twisted her still damp hair into a loose braid before pinning it to the back of her head. Her hands shook. She glanced in the mirror almost trying to avoid her own gaze. Ridiculous. She was ridiculous. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Again. Guilt gnawed away in her gut. If the real Blaise knew … he’d be furious. She shook her head slightly. He’d always been fuelled by hatred anyway. He’d always despised her. It was stupid to think of him… It was her ridiculous girlhood crush that had brought her to this pass in the first place. She dropped her towel and started to struggle into her clothes. The mirror showed her flushed face. Flushed from a combination of love-making and guilt. She refused to think about the sex-droid she’d selfishly commissioned out here still naked lying on the couch. She’d only managed to get half her underwear on before she felt his arms close around her from behind. Damn, she’d forgotten how light on his feet he was. Or his original was. They were becoming blurred in her mind. Except, she couldn’t imagine the real Blaise holding her close like this, stroking her, pressing his face into her neck.
“You’re not leaving already are you?” he murmured, She shivered feeling him breathe in her scent. “You smell like apricots.”
“It‘s the bodywash I used,” she answered inanely. His proximity was robbing her ability to think. “I do need to get back,” she rambled on hurriedly. “I mean, I have things to do.” That wasn’t a lie, she had a bunch of paperwork to get through winding up her father’s business concerns.
His big hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts.
“There’s still a lot of pleasure I could give you,” he told her thickly.
“Oh Blaise,” she whimpered, reaching back to place her palms on his muscular thighs. She felt them flex under her fingers, his erection bumping against her bottom, thick and engorged. Oh my. Already? She didn’t have a whole lot of experience to go on but even so… She guessed Crispus Pomponius’ claims about his sex-bots being the best weren’t just an idle boast. He propelled her forward until she was bent over the marble counter, resting on her elbows. His hands roamed over her backside, still clad in her silky briefs. He peeled them down exposing her backside. She winced, feeling a moment of panic at being so exposed, imagining the view he must be getting. She wasn’t exactly body confident, she’d always been a plump girl. Her anxious eyes flew to the mirror, seeking his reaction. His eyes were like molten blue topazes, her favourite gemstones. Her father had bought her a necklace set with six perfectly matched stones. She’d sold it along everything else she’d inherited on his death two years ago and donated it to charity. Blaise’s beautiful eyes glittered back from the mirror more striking and precious than any piece of jewellery. He smiled, robbing her of all breath as he pressed his fingers between her legs, finding her already wet.
“Tell me you want me Poppaea,” he growled, replacing his fingers with his cock.
“Yes,” she admitted throatily. “I do.” Gods help her, she always had. That was why she’d spent the last million credits she’d ever own in this lifetime on this synthetic lover. This recreation of the only man she’d ever loved. That she would ever love before she took her vows. She closed her eyes on a moan as she felt him thrust into her with his thick, hard monstrous cock. Her pussy yielded up to him, knowing it’s master, it let his hard length slide slowly into her as she bit her lip and forced herself to relax and let him have his way. She opened her eyes again as she felt him pause once he was fully seated deep inside her.
“Why have you stopped?” she asked, her breath hitching in bewilderment.
“Just savouring the moment,” he answered meeting her eyes boldly in the mirror. “You feel fucking amazing Poppaea, so tight. Like a goddamn fist.”
She stared back at his reflection, swallowing.
“You feel good too,” she admitted.
“I do?” he asked huskily.
She nodded jerkily.
“Tell me.”
“You feel really good Blaise,” she licked her lips. “You feel big, really big and … powerful.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, one hand sliding around her hip and towards her pussy. “I want you to do something for me now Poppaea.”
“What?” she whispered tremulously as he slid two fingers over her sensitive clitoris. “Oh!”
“I want you to come now on my big powerful cock without me doing anything more than this.”
“Not going to be a problem,” she admitted shakily as fireworks began to shoot across the back of her eyelids. And then with a loud wail she came apart at the seams, writhing against the marble surface, feeling it cool against her aroused nipples. Clutching at the edge as her body convulsed in orgasm, her soft body quivering and jiggling as her climax rolled over her like a tidal wave.
“That was beautiful, Poppaea,” he told her raspily when she surfaced once more to consciousness.
She groaned feeling him pressed hard against the back of her thighs, the fingers of one hand digging into the flesh of her hip. He felt swollen and huge inside of her. Looking at the tenseness on his face she could sense he was close to losing his control. She tried to straighten up, but one hand shot out to push firmly against the small of her back, pinning her in place.
“Don’t move. You’re just where I want you.”
She shuddered again at his domination. How did they do it? Tap into a deep-rooted desire she didn’t even know she possessed?
“It’s my turn now baby,” he said thickly as he thrust into her aching depths. “I’m not pulling out now until I get off.”
“Oh god – yes!” she groaned. “I don’t care.”
And then he was there, between her thighs, big and hard and so good that she was hanging over the counter sobbing and moaning, as he ground against her, pushing and pulling at her hips, manipulating her body to please his even as he pleasured her. By the time her second orgasm hit she could feel the edge of the counter cutting into her palms and thighs but was past caring. Blaise held her steady until she emerged from the waves of pleasure, then he lifted her off the counter carrying her effortlessly out of the bathroom and back into the lounging area where he deposited her among the cushions, before flipping her onto her stomach and driving back insid
e her.
“Wait!” she started to caution him, her chest heaving as. A powerful thrust from behind made her give up on that idea. “Unh!”
“Sorry I don’t have that kind of restraint right now,” he growled, giving her a hefty slap on the rump. “You mind getting back into the moment now? I still haven’t come,” he reminded her grouchily before shoving her face forward into the silky cushions and getting fully seated again with a couple more thrusts of his powerful cock.
Poppaea bit her lip, he was huge, she’d already come twice and he was playing kinda rough. She didn’t know why but she was starting to get all worked up again as he rammed into her, his fingers digging into her hips. There was no way she could come a third time right? She pushed back against him experimentally as he thrust again.
“Oh yesssss Blaise,” she panted at the sensation. It was delicious, even though she felt a little sore where they were joined.
“Touch yourself Poppaea,” he urged her. “I want to see your hands on those beautiful breasts.”
“Okay,” she agreed, biting her lip and hesitantly circling her dark-rose nipples. She glanced shyly back over her shoulder to see his reaction. His eyes had heated into a deeper sapphire with lust and he released one hip to reach around and start rubbing at her clit again. She mewed and bucked against him.
“Wait - It’s too much,” she groaned, grabbing at his wrist in a futile attempt to still his hand. “I can’t take it!”
She felt his breathless laughter against the back of her neck.
“If you stop, I’ll make you sorry,” he warned her raggedly. “Push your ass back against me again.” She did and met his up-thrust, they both moaned at the friction. “Oh yeah Poppaea, like that… just like that. You are so talented baby. Who taught you to fuck like that?”
“You did,” she answered confused.
“Again?”
“You taught me to fuck like that, Blaise.” she enunciated and felt a thrill as his grip tightened possessively on her hips.
“You’d better believe it.” He answered tightly. “And now I’m gonna come,” he said huskily. “I don’t wanna stop, but I just can’t take it anymore, Poppaea. Damn, your pussy is just so damn tight I can’t stand it.”
Poppaea turned her face into the cushion and wailed as he shouted and spurted into her over and again until it was running down her inner legs. He’d opened his mouth against her neck and she could feel his hot breath as he groaned over and again as his he emptied everything into her greedy suctioning wet warmth.
“Holy hells…” he said weakly after a couple of minutes had passed. “Please tell me you came again at the end?”
She nodded hiding her face in the couch cushions. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he lay plastered against her back. “Shit… “ he breathed again. “How the hell do you do that Poppaea?”
I have absolutely no idea, she thought, turning her head to the side so she could gaze up at him. He had a queer look on his face which she had a feeling was mirrored on her own. He pulled out. She wanted to weep. Later when she finally detached herself from his sleeping body she kissed him gently goodbye she actually did. All the way home.
He wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. She told herself as she let herself into the two-roomed box she currently lived in. She’d hoped it would acclimatise her for her new life after the splendour of her father’s residence. It had in fact served its purpose admirably. It was bare and utilitarian, but she found it wasn’t luxury she hankered after. It was company. At least in the order she would have people around her, companions not servants. She didn’t miss the trappings of wealth. Turned out, despite her father’s claims she was ‘soft’ from being gently reared, she found them stifling. The opulence of The Pleasure Palace had a similar effect on her. Without Blaise – or rather his Doppelganger the place would have no appeal for her. She secured the door behind her and dropped her clutch-bag onto her tiny couch then made her way to the small sink unit and helped herself to a large glass of water. Once she’d downed it, she collapsed onto the sagging mattress of her single bed and stared up at the ceiling. She would never see him again. 320 and through him, Blaise. She would never see The Pleasure Palace or sector 9 again. She had originally meant it to be a one-time only deal. She couldn’t believe she’d ever returned for a second visit. She closed her eyes. It was madness. How was she supposed to move forward with her new worthy life when she was carrying on like a decadent woman of pleasure? She bit her lip viciously. It would have been better if she’d never succumbed to making her own persona fantasy into a reality. Or an artificial reality. What she should have done was entered the Penitent Sisterhood a virgin. Okay, so few did it these days but back in ancient Rome they’d had the vestal virgins, hadn’t they? But no, she’d had the crazy idea to live out her wildest dreams before taking the vows of celibacy, poverty and life service to the good of others. She would never have forgotten him anyway she reasoned. So why not have a memory of him to take with her into the order? A memory where he wasn’t just scowling at her in dislike. He hadn’t looked like he disliked her this afternoon she thought resting her forearm over her eyes. He’d looked at her like he’d wanted to devour her whole. She rolled onto her side and swiped furiously at her tears. Okay, so it was a fake Blaise not the real thing, but who knows, by the time she was a dried up old eighty-year old worn out from charitable works, maybe the pseudo-memory would warm the decrepit cockles of her heart? She could only hope some good could come of it. When she thought of how much money she’d given that smooth-faced Pomponius her soul winced. All the good works she could have done with it and instead she’d squandered it on carnal delight. The rest she’d given to charity she pointed out to her screeching conscience. And she’d disbanded her father’s business, given all the gladiators their freedom. Surely this one dirty little wish could be indulged before she took up the veil and started striving for oneness with the universe and the obliteration of her flesh-bound soul? She drew a thin blanket over her now shivering body and slipped into a mercifully dreamless sleep.
There was no natural light to filter through into the small grey bedroom and the false daylight lamp was broken. Poppaea hadn’t bothered to report it to the landlord as it was just a stop-gap after all. It hardly seemed worth listing the many short comings to the guy. She had a feeling he would’ve ignored her and coming anyway. She still woke at six am like she always did despite her privileged upbringing she’d always been an early riser something she was sure she’d find useful in her future vocation. It was hard to believe in three short days she’d be taking her vows. Her hands shook briefly as she stood over the water unit, and not just from the stone cold water. Another fault. Still, for all she knew cold water might be part of her future regime with the sisterhood. She stared into the small mirrored panel at eye level and swallowed hard. She had made her choice and could have no regrets. The comm. panel in the small adjoining chamber bleeped startling her out of her reverie. She dragged a robe on over her shift and hurried into the room hitting the answer button. To her surprise the name that flashed up on the screen was that of her former maid, Pina Geminus. Frowning she hit the video screen and Pina’s somewhat sour face filled the screen.
“Miss Poppaea,” she intoned nasally. She’d always answered sounded like she had a head-cold.
“Pina, this is a surprise,” Poppaea raked her fingers through her bed-hair and sat back on the small hard two-seater. “Forgive my appearance. I’ve not long been up. What can I do for you?” She felt slightly at a loss. They hadn’t parted on bad terms although she knew Pina had been annoyed at losing her position. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you Miss,” she replied pursing her lips and glancing to the left of the screen. Her eyes swerved back hastily. “Sorry to be a nuisance Miss, but I wanted to ask a favour of you. You see,” she carried on in a rush. “I have this prospective employer, an elderly lady. Somewhat eccentric.” She paused. “You see she wants a written reference from you? On top
of the e-reference. I know it’s a bit irregular but…”
Poppaea’s frown cleared.
“Oh … no that’s fine. I don’t mind,” she assured her. “I can print it off and mail it…”
“Uh no, that won’t do,” interrupted Pina. “I need to send it to you registered delivery. You see she wants you to write onto her own official paper and all.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I know it’s a bit awkward.”
“No, it’s not that,” Poppaea hastened to assure her, although it was a bit. “It’s just I’m only here another couple of days before I leave for the Order.”
“I could post it out right away,” Pina burst in enthusiastically. “If you could only give me your address…” She paused expectantly.
“Er …” Poppaea blinked. Usually only the prospect of a fat tip could spur such enthusiasm from Pina. This employer she had lined up must be a rich one. “Yes of course. If you mail it out now I can send it back by return of post.” She rattled off her temporary address abstractedly.
Pina expelled a heavy sigh, her eyes darting again to the left, gleaming with a sort of jubilation. Poppaea wondered with misgiving if she had someone there with her, maybe that nosy father of hers.
“So, you’re still going through with it,” Pina commented, sniffing “Joining the convent I mean.”
“Oh yes,” nodded Poppaea with a tight smile. “It’s all set. I hope the new job works out for you, Pina.”
An uneasy expression flitted across her ex-maid’s face. She looked almost guilty.
“And for you madam,” she muttered dropping her gaze and abruptly terminating the call.
Well, thought Poppaea, I suppose that’s that. All my wordly ties are now severed. She thought fleetingly of The Pleasure Palace. But there was nothing left for her there she thought steadfastly with a sick lurching feeling. He wasn’t real. None of it was real. She kept repeating her new mantra every time 302 popped into her head. In the process of showering and dressing she must have repeated it a million times before she snatched up her purse and left the apartment. Just one last thing to sign at the solicitors and it was done. Finished. She was ready to move on to the next phase of her life.
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