Public Sins (Exhibitionism Erotica)

by Dalia Daudelin

  Mr. Rodin's feather tickles over my pelvis and then down to my inner thighs. He has to press one of his hands against my leg to keep me from kicking and flailing. I look down at him, and am surprised to see that he's smiling, like he's really having fun.

  The gentle feather flicks against my clitoris. At first it feels like nothing, but the more he does it, the better it feels. “Ooh,” I moan, wiggling my hips. He brushes the feather up and down the hood of my clitoris. The heat of orgasm is slowly building up in me when he suddenly dips his head down and licks me!

  “Ah!” I cry, and my orgasm hits me. My juices spill over Mr. Rodin's sexy face as he continues to lick my clitoris, lapping up my liquids. One of his fingers slips into me, making me arch my back. Another finger is added and he pumps them in and out of me as he licks me. The penetration and stimulation send me into another orgasm.

  “Please, don't stop!” I say as his fingers slip out of me. I pout and try to move down the bed for more action, but he moves away. Sitting up on his knees, he unbuttons his slacks before unzipping them and pulling them down. His huge prick springs free. God, he's even bigger than he was in my dream!

  “Please put it in me! Please fuck me, Mr. Rodin!”

  “Gladly,” he says, grabbing my thighs and spreading them wide. He spits into his palm, lubing up his cock before he places it in my hole.

  “Yes, please!” I shout, lifting up my hips. He impales me, his hard cock filling me completely.

  “God, you feel so good, Sophia...” He pants, pushing himself deeper into me. I move my hips in time with his.

  He moves faster and faster, his forehead dripping with sweat. I feel his cock twitch within me, and I know he's going to cum soon. I clench my pussy around him, and he shoots his cum into me.

  “Oh god!” I yell. His cum is so hot. My pussy spasms around his cock as I orgasm, my whole body going weak and twitching.

  My eyes flutter open. I find myself on Mr. Rodin's bed, my arms untied. I must have fallen asleep. Mr. Rodin snores gently next to me, one of his arms wrapped around my waist. I smile to myself. I'm not sure what's going to happen now, but I can't wait until the morning.

  Spanked in the Lap of Luxury 3

  Dominated by Her Sadistic Billionaire

  Dalia Daudelin

  Wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead, I look around the room. It's large enough to hold all of my furniture plus some. Occasionally the men helping me move grunt or sigh in annoyance, and their hard work is making my new place smell like sweat. I'll have to light a candle once they leave to freshen it up.

  My couch is off to the side for now, though I'll probably move it once I'm settled in and all my boxes are emptied. My bed is next to a large window that looks out onto a beautiful garden, the afternoon sun streaming in and casting shadows on the hardwood floor with my boxes.

  All of the lighter items are in, so I've been unpacking them while the movers finish bringing in my heavy furniture and boxes. I open a box full of the plates I bought last year and that will probably go to my sister when she graduates and moves out. The white porcelain is cracked in a few places, but the plates are still functional and none are totally broken. I close the box and set it on my couch to be dealt with later.

  I open a second box and look in, but then there's a knock on the door. Mr. Rodin is standing there, giving a dirty look to one of the sweaty men as he brushes past him without excusing himself. Mr. Rodin steps closer to me.

  “Is this nearly done? I was hoping you would make me dinner.”

  I check the clock on my phone. 5:46 PM. When I agreed to be Mr. Rodin's live-in maid, I didn't expect to also be his cook. I like cooking, though, so I smile and nod.

  “I can probably start by 6, most of my stuff is in. Was there anything specific you want me to make?” I grin up at Mr. Rodin. Even though he still scares me sometimes, I'm grateful to be living in this big house. That, and I'm starting to get something of a crush on him. I know it's ridiculous, and silly, but sometimes I see a sweet man underneath the punishments and domination.

  That, and not having to walk in the cold to get here is a definite plus.

  “Can you cook steak?”

  “It's my specialty!” I chirp. My dad loves steak so my mom taught me how to make it when I was really young. “How do you like it?”

  “Rare,” he replies. He looks around the room again and lets one side of his lip twitch into a smile before he turns around and leaves. He's probably heading back to his library, to work on whatever it is that he does.

  Mr. Rodin has been acting strange ever since he offered to let me live here. I don't know why, and it's setting me on edge. He's be avoiding me, barely speaking to me. He's only a few years older than I am, but sometimes he looks so tired and sad.

  My dad told me a few years ago that Mr. Rodin loved his wife, and never really recovered when she died. He hasn't dated since then, and I think that might be part of why he's so uncomfortable with me. From what I can tell, Mr. Rodin hasn't spent time with any other woman than me. There's never any proof of visitors aside from employees who sometimes bring Mr. Rodin bad news. Every New Year he does host a party for his top earning employees, but they always leave precisely at 1 AM and I am always here to clean up after them. Never has there been someone staying the night.

  It makes me sad that he's been alone for so long. He's so handsome, and his wealth would normally make him at least a target for gold diggers, but still he is alone.

  I sigh and shrug. I just don't understand him.

  I place the steak on the table next to Mr. Rodin. “One rare steak, with green beans and mashed potatoes, sir.”

  He looks at the plate then up at me. “Did you make yourself a steak too?”

  I blush and look away. “Oh, no. I didn't think you'd want me to do that. I just made myself a salad.”

  He frowns, picking up his plate and standing. “Next time, I want you to have what I have for dinner. And I want us both to eat in the dining room.”

  “Okay,” I reply quietly, following Mr. Rodin into the kitchen where I pick up my salad. My heart beats so fast that I feel a little dizzy. He wants to spend time with me?

  My crush on him gets worse any time I'm near him. My head starts to swim and the whole world gets a little blurry. I realize it's silly for me to feel like this when we're both adults, but he's the first man who has ever made me this interested. Is that a bit pathetic? Well, I can't help it.

  We sit at the long dining room table. He pulls out a chair next to the end of the table and gestures for me to sit. Setting down my plate first, I lower myself into the chair and giggle as he pushes me in. “What a gentleman,” I say.

  He smiles and chuckles before sitting at the head of the table. The scent of his steak makes my stomach growl. I eye it as he sits down and unfolds a napkin before picking up his knife and fork. He cuts into the juicy steak and takes his first bite, closing his eyes and savoring the taste.

  I watch him, hoping he'll find my seasoning delicious, and the steak done to perfection. He chews it slowly, and then lets out a happy groan. “This is absolutely amazing, Sophia.” He cuts another piece, popping it into his mouth.

  “I'm so glad you like it!” I exclaim, spearing a cucumber slice with my fork and biting into it. I smile as I chew, giddy that he approves of my cooking.

  “Here,” he says, cutting another piece. “Try it.”

  He holds his fork out for me. I blush, leaning over and parting my lips. I close them around the meat and pull it off the fork, closing my eyes as the juices hit my tongue. He's right, it is amazing.

  “This might be the best steak I've ever made!”

  Mr. Rodin chuckles again, scooping up a bit of his mashed potatoes. My face burns bright red and my heart pounds in my ears. We eat in silence for a while, but my blushing never goes away.

  He looks up at me and studies my face. Something seems to dawn on him, like he realizes I'm blushing over him, and he looks back down. He clears his throat. The rest of o
ur dinner is eaten in silence.

  A week after my first night living with Mr. Rodin, I seem to be settling into a routine. I clean from 9 AM to 5 PM, after which I make dinner. We still eat together, though we chat more about Mr. Rodin's work, or the books I've been reading from his library collection.

  He's still keeping his distance from me. We haven't had sex since he tied me to his bed. He hasn't punished me. He's practically avoided any sort of interaction that might lead to more than a few words being exchanged.

  Have I become less interesting now that I live here? Or maybe he never was interested at all, and just liked having power over me.

  When I woke up this morning, Mr. Rodin was already in the library. I don't like to disturb him while he works, so I cleaned the rest of the house first. I knock on the door and enter quietly, but Mr. Rodin does not stop typing long enough to even greet me. I pout and get to cleaning, dusting his old books and vacuuming his old rugs.

  I should just get over this crush. He's clearly not interested, and only offered to let me move in for his own convenience. There was never any chance he'd fall in love with a girl like me. I'm just the poor daughter of an old friend that he was trying to help. I was just a sex slave when he wanted one. And now, what he wants is a maid who doesn't make a fuss.

  As I sulk and beat myself up, I come across an old vase that is absolutely covered with dust. It's sitting on a shelf that is usually only filled with books. Mr. Rodin must have brought it out last night or today from storage, I wonder why? The beautiful white porcelain is painted with cobalt blue flowers and images of people working in fields. It looks antique and frail.

  For a second, I allow myself to admire the art. There's a thin crack running up the side, but the vase is otherwise flawless. Using my feather duster, I carefully work off years of dust, restoring the piece to its original shine.

  Mr. Rodin coughs suddenly. The sound shocks me as it penetrates the silence. Startled, my arm twitches, and the feather duster sends the vase crashing to the floor. It shatters into hundreds of pieces.

  He whips around to see what I've broken, his mouth wide open. His eyes are momentarily alight with rage, but when he looks at me a sort of mask comes up. Instead of looking angry or showing any emotion at all, Mr. Rodin looks like he doesn't care that I just destroyed his beautiful vase.

  “I'm so sorry,” I whisper. Even if he doesn't care, I feel an overwhelming sense of shame. I bend down to pick up the pieces, wondering if it can be repaired. Some of the shards are just too small, though. They're like a fine dust from the crash. It's hopelessly destroyed.

  “Mr. Rodin turns around. “Just clean it up and get out.”

  I furrow my eyebrows, but I get the broom and dustpan. I sweep up the pieces and put them into a bag. As I move past Mr. Rodin and through the door, I stop and back up.

  “What is up with you lately?” I ask. My heart races with fear. I know I'm not supposed to talk back to Mr. Rodin, but I have to know.

  “What are you talking about?” His voice is bored, which pisses me off.

  I step closer to him. “You wanted me to move in. You wanted this. I thought... you gave me the impression we were moving toward something more serious, but now you just ignore me. We haven't had sex in a week and you barely acknowledge me!”

  The apathetic look on his face never goes away. “What do you want me to say, Sophia? It's not what I expected either.”

  I set down the bag of porcelain shards and cross my arms. “That's not good enough. Tell me why you're acting like this, or I'm moving back out and quitting.”

  Mr. Rodin sighs. He leans against his hand, his fingers massaging his temple. “I really don't...”

  “Too bad.”

  Anger flashes into his eyes again, but it gives way to sadness. A deep sadness that I've only ever seen glimpses of.

  “It was a bad idea for you to move in.”

  My heart shatters, breaking into as many pieces as the vase. I try to hold back tears that bully their way past my eyes and down my cheeks. I don't want to admit it, but he is breaking my heart. I love him.

  “No, don't cry, please... It's not because something is wrong with you. It's because something is wrong with me. I don't want to hurt you, Sophia.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I've known you for so long. I've loved you for so long.”

  “What?” I reel back, laughing involuntarily. My heart speeds up again.

  “Ever since I first met you, when I was 18 and you were just a few years younger than me. And then later, when your father brought you to the house he sold me and show you what kind of work he does. Why do you think I agreed to hire you, instead of your mother? It's because I wanted to be near you.”

  He pauses again, thinking over his words.

  “You're beautiful, and you always have been. But I tend to break the things that are most beautiful. When my wife died, I resigned myself to being alone, and it was okay until you tempted me with your innocence and your kindness.”

  I can't help but laugh again. I bend over, my hands on my knees as I laugh harder than I have in a long time.

  “What are you laughing about?” he asks, clearly disturbed.

  “It's just... are you saying you see me as more than just a sex slave?”

  His face twists in horror and disgust. “Of course! How could you even say something like that?”

  I giggle. All this time I've been pining for a man already in love with me! As I straighten my back, I try to calm myself down. I open my arms wide and pull Mr. Rodin into a hug. He accepts it, his arms tenderly wrapping around my waist.

  “Mr. Rodin, it would be my pleasure to be hurt by you. Pain is part of what love is.”

  “You should call me Julian.”

  Looking up into his eyes, I rise to my tip toes and kiss him softly. “Alright, Julian.” I kiss him again, then a third time.

  I stare up at him for a moment, watching as sadness and happiness mix and fight in his eyes. My body acts on its own. I pull him in for a kiss, so passionate and full of love. My lips against his, my arms around his neck. I close my eyes and enjoy the soft tug my heart feels as he laughs a bit through our kiss. He pulls me in tight, lifting me up off the floor. Grabbing behind my knees, he cradles me as we continue to kiss.

  Julian brings me to the couch, in front of his dusty old books, and lays me down. The soft brown leather is cool beneath me. Crouching over me, he presses his lips to mine again before unbuttoning the front of my dress. He pops each button out of its hole, slowly revealing my blushing chest and my bra.

  He pushes my bra down, exposing my breasts. My nipples are hard already from excitement, and my breathing is heavy. I lift myself up and rest on my elbows. Julian's mouth sucks in my nipple, his tongue swirling around it. My lips part. I let my head fall back and enjoy his rough tongue against my sensitive skin.

  He bites the nipple, which makes me moan. “Ooh, I like that,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. Biting me again, I press his head into my tit. He sucks on it hard. He moves his lips to the side of my breast, sucking and kissing it. He sucks on the skin so hard that it starts to bruise. A small purple spot on my porcelain skin.

  His mouth moves to my other nipple as his hand slips up my soft thigh. Pushing aside my panties, he runs his fingers up and down my labia. They're already dripping wet. I part my legs to give him better access to my body.

  One of his fingers slips into my pussy. He wiggles it as it sinks into my hole. “Mm,” I moan. “Put in another finger.”

  A second finger dips into me. He pulls them out and then pushes them back in. He moves faster and then slower, teasing me instead of allowing me to orgasm quickly. In and out, he fucks me with his digits as he sucks on my nipple and leaves more bruises on my skin. His thumb presses against my clit as he fingers me now, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I arch my back and hold his head against my breast again. His fingers fly in and out of my wet hole, my juices making lewd sounds that echo off the walls along with my moan
s and gasps.

  I use my other hand to massage his cock through his pants. Julian is so big already, he must be so horny. I struggle to unzip his pants, but I eventually get it. I unbutton them and let them fall to the ground, then push down his briefs as well. His cock hangs free, standing at attention. I wrap my hand around him, tugging it up and then back down. His precum coats my hand and makes jerking him easier.

  My hand flies up and down his shaft as he fingers me. He moans into my tit. He pulls his head up, standing up and removing his fingers from my hole. “Suck it,” he commands.

  “Yes, sir,” I say, sitting up. I use my own fingers to flick and massage my clit as I put Julian's big shaft into my mouth. At first I stay shallow, but the hornier I get, the deeper his cock goes down my throat. I use my hand to make a circular motion at the base of his cock as I deep throat him.

  His precum is salty, but delicious. I moan while my mouth is still around him. The vibration feels so good that his knees quiver. I bob my head up and down, sucking his cock as hard as I can. He groans and moans, his sounds so sexy that my pussy becomes even more wet.

  He pushes my head away and has me lay down on the couch. He kneels between my legs, his huge prick positions just above my hole. Sliding his cock up and down my slit, he makes me moan and twitch as it presses against my clitoris.

  And then he enters me. He slides into me easily until his balls are nestled against the skin of my butt cheeks. He pauses to let me get adjusted, and then a wicked glint forms in his eyes.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I think for a second, scared of what he's going to do. Finally, I nod. “I do.”

  One of his hands comes down over my neck and wraps around it. He presses down on it, restricting my air as he pulls his cock almost all the way out. I can only barely breath. I start to struggle beneath him, but then his thrusts his cock back into me and I see stars. I gasp and wiggle beneath him. With the air cut off, each thrust is more pleasurable than ever before.