by CJ Roberts
Minutes later, my power is now diminished. He got what he wanted from me. His release. I am no longer the queen with her empire but a servant that can be tossed aside. Panic sets in as I fear he might leave now – might decide to go home.
But he says, “Come here you gorgeous creature and give me a kiss. It’s your turn now, Ms. Robinson. I want to give you what you deserve.”
“And what do I deserve?”
“I think you deserve to be made love to, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I murmur with gratitude. I want him inside me. I notice he’s still as hard as he was, still as erect.
“Now bend over and touch your toes,” he commands.
My moment of power is over, my reign as empress brief. He holds all the cards now. I bend over. Is he going to spank me? No, he starts licking me delicately around the base of my Venus. Licking, then sucking. This feels hotly erotic.
“Always so wet, always ready to get fucked by me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“Is it only me? Is it only me you want inside you?” His voice is almost a roar.
“Yes. I don’t want anyone else! I can’t even look at anyone else.” Except in my dream, I think. What was my old History teacher, Mr. Hand, doing in my goddam dream??
“Do you want to kiss anyone else?” he mumbles, now only touching my entrance with the very tip of his tongue. He’s teasing me again. My hips start gyrating, trying to push myself closer to his mouth. “Do you want to kiss anyone else?” he asks again savagely.
“I had a little fantasy. When we were Skyping together, I imagined I was kissing another woman while you were fucking me from behind.”
“And what was she like? Was she pretty?”
“Stunning. With big, perfectly shaped breasts.”
He lifts me up by my shoulders so I’m standing straight and then spins me around; I’m now facing him. He kisses me hard, our mouths hungry for each other.
“You’re making me fucking horny,” he says. But then his face goes suddenly dark, his eyes fiery. “Who else has been fucking you? Before me?”
“Nobody. I practically feel like a virgin, it’s been so long.”
He steps away from his jeans which are still pooled about his ankles. “I don’t believe that. You’re too good. Too expert. Where did you learn all this? Where did you learn to do that?”
“Instinct,” I bleat out. “I’ve never done this before in that way. It’s you, Alexandre. You make me this way. You make me want to do these things.”
“Who else has been making love to my Pearl and her juicy little oyster?” he demands, flicking his tongue on my nipple and then nipping it. A spasm of pleasure shoots directly between my legs.
“Nobody, I swear. I haven’t had sex for two years. I haven’t had sex since my divorce.” Okay, there was that one terrible time but I keep quiet about that.
My answer seems to placate him but he stares at me for a second as if to read my face for lies. “Good girl,” he whispers in my ear. “I don’t want you involved with anyone else, is that clear? I want to keep you for myself. I’m not a jealous man but I am possessive of my treasures.”
I’m a treasure?
“This beautiful Pearl and her pearlette are mine, is that clear?”
“Yes.” I smile, and feel as if I’ve won something. Jealous men have always irritated me but this is making me hot. I have made a young, twenty-five year-old possessive of me, and I’m loving it. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone else?” I ask with trepidation. What if he says ‘yes’ – I’ll fall apart.
“I already told you I was unattached.”
“Unattached means no girlfriend, no relationship. Are you fucking anyone else?”
“Not now, I won’t be. Why go out for hamburger when I have steak at home?”
“Paul Newman said that.”
He laughs. “I know – it’s a good line. Seriously, Pearl, I really don’t want to waste my time with anyone else, now I’ve found you. You passed both tests one and two, remember?”
I had almost forgotten about that. “Remind me what they were?” I say.
“Test one – you’re a dog lover and you care about animals. Test two – you’re brave and adventurous; you came rock climbing with me, even though it was obvious you’d never done it before.”
“I told a white lie,” I admit. “I was worried you wouldn’t invite me otherwise. Dogs…” I smile. “Is that the only reason you like me?”
He laughs and adds, “You’re the whole package. You’re beautiful, smart, sexy, independent, mature, and I still have that little ‘challenge’ in mind. We still have work to do. Now stop doubting me and get on the bed where you belong.”
Did I just hear that right? Where I belong!! Who is this guy with his old-fashioned values? But then I see a glint of humor in his eye and I know he’s just kidding.
“When you say ‘mature’ what do you mean exactly?” I ask. Is mature a code word for old?
“Mature. A woman who is mature knows what she wants. Like you. You have a past, you’ve experienced life. You’ve borne some knocks and bruises, perhaps. Suffered, had your heart broken maybe. You’re a whole person, Pearl. You have a good career. I’m not interested in some young, naive girl hanging on to my every word, my every movement – I’d find that unappealing. I want someone who’s my equal. I’m not perfect but I feel comfortable in my own skin and although I’m young I have everything, and I want a woman with substance like you,” he says, moving close.
I hold him back. “You say mature. How old am I?” I ask apprehensively.
Brave move. What if he thinks I’m older than I am?
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I would never ask. But you’re beautiful and you have my attention. Now get on the bed.”
I lie nude on my four poster bed, lapping up all his compliments and bathing in honeyed words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘you’re the whole package.’ Pack Age, his accent says – uh, oh, that age word again drumming in my ears. But it’s my hang-up, not his. I’ve got to move on from that.
He straddles me and kisses me softly on my nose, my eyelashes, my lips, my shoulders. I’ve been waiting for this – waiting to be fucked by him. Whether I have an orgasm or not, I don’t care – I want him inside me. My breath is shallow – butterflies are circling my stomach.
His fingers are draped against the full expanse of my vulva like a velvet curtain, cupping me like a glove. What a great fit it is, too. I’m pushing my pelvis against his palm, and his index fingers are making rhythmic upside-down ‘come hither’ movements along my hot wet entrance, probing into the glistening doorway of my Venus. He’s reaching in and upwards with his smooth finger against my ceiling and hoists me up several inches off the bed. So dominating, so in control – instinctively he knows what my body wants. It feels incredible – my G-spot is hungry for him, hungry for his magic wand.
Still with his fingers inside me, he pulls my groin up towards his face – my back arches off the bed and he presses his still tongue against my vulva. He holds it flat against my clitoris without movement. I’m squirming up against it, gyrating my hips, arching my back more to get closer to him, moaning with pleasure. I’m pushing and grinding and suddenly his tongue, from being quite still, strokes me vertically and diagonally in sudden flashing lashes. He’s whipping me with his tongue. I’m tingling with desire, throbbing with longing.
Then he stops. His tongue is still again. My V-8 is humming like the fiery little engine it is. I can feel my juices oozing. I’m so revved-up.
“Please,” I beg. “Please fuck me.”
“Not yet. All good things come to little girls who wait. Especially neo-virgins – I need to take it slowly with you.”
His tongue starts probing deep inside me, in and then out. He stops again. I’m squirming on my back, his head is between my thighs and I grab his hair and try to pull his head up towards my face. I need him inside me. I need that huge beast of his phallus deep inside. His tongu
e starts fucking me, in, out, in out. It feels amazing but I want more, I yearn for all of him to go deep. I miss him so far away from me. I want the intimacy of his entire being, his face on mine, his torso on my breasts. I need him whole. I’m longing for that erection to probe deep inside against my walls.
He gets up and I hear him rummaging about in his jeans pocket. I open my eyes which have been closed in ecstatic reverie and see the condom packet which he is ripping open with his teeth. Yes, yes, at last! It’s a brand I haven’t seen before – XL lambskin. I didn’t know they made them extra large but I guess it makes sense for him. He rolls it on to his erection – my V-8 humming away in preparation, throbbing with the thought of him inside me.
He straddles me again – then moves down the bed and circles my clitoris with his tongue, careful not to touch it directly, which makes it more desperate to be fondled. But, he leaves it be. He slowly moves his way higher, his chest now on top of me, my nipples hard beneath his strong torso. I can feel his whopping great cock pressing up against me, about to enter me. I moan with anticipation. I grab it – it is rock hard inside the condom which feels soft, not the usual rubbery texture. I guide it towards my wet opening but he pulls back.
“You cannot have it all, little Pearl. Not yet. Greedy girls have to watch their appetites.”
He lets the tip probe my hot entrance but just the tip.
“Please.” I am pleading now, whining like a child for candy.
He starts with shallow thrusts, barely penetrating me, his arms enclosing me tightly, his mouth on mine. Then he pauses and lets his erection rest just an inch inside me. He’s lingering close but not moving. I’m flexing my hips, desperate to get closer, my hands are like claws on his tight ass, pulling him toward me. Fuck me all the way. Please, I beg silently. But he’s holding back, his strength and willpower overcoming me.
“So wet, I’m going to have to suck that little oyster later. I’d like that little oyster and its Pearl to come with my mouth around it,” he whispers in my ear as he nibbles the lobe.
I groan and tense my buttocks, thrusting myself at him. Only the tip of his huge erection is inside me, then he makes tiny thrusts – and pulls out, each time its soft, huge head pressing up and brushing past my clit. The shaft of it is rubbing against me and he’s gently thrusting between my labia without entering me. I’m screaming now. This feels incredible.
“Shush, quiet now. So juicy,” he murmurs. “I love your hair, your body, your soft skin, your blue eyes, I love the way you smell. I love the way you’re so desperate for me to fuck you.” As he says this he plunges his erection deep into me, the whole of him inside, simultaneously pressing his pelvic bone against my clit, holding himself firmly in place before withdrawing again. The tease is driving me crazy. My body is begging for each plunge, the taut fullness of him. I can feel the nerve endings on my clitoris swelling with heat. He pulls out. He’s guiding his penis now with his hand – he’s slapping it against my clit and I’m moaning.
“I’m going to really fuck you now like you deserve, you greedy little girl. You want my cock? All of it?”
“Please,” I cry. “It’s so big it scares me, though.”
“Too big for you? Too big for your tight little pearlette? It’s so tight. Like a virgin. I think it needs to be ripped open by my big cock. I think it needs that.”
“Yes,” I groan, my buttocks clenched, my pelvis rising higher so I’m pressing deep up against him, his erection poised at my soaked entrance.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yes,” I cry. “Please, please.”
But he starts teasing me with the tip again and, just as I can’t take any more, when I think I’m going to come from the rhythmic brushing on my clit, he suddenly slams himself hard into me; his erection swelling inside me, his immense size filling me whole, his pelvic bone pressing hard down on my clitoris. I’m shouting out, my brain concentrated on my Venus – my entire universe at this moment. All I care about, all I desire. He takes his cock out again tantalizing me at the entrance, circling me and then slaps my clit with it again. The sensation is so intense. He plunges into me once more, I can feel his pubic bone pressing against that sweet spot and I start coming in a rush of heaven, all my nerve endings in that one area sending my whole body into a quivering spasm. My contractions are tight about his erection, squeezing him as he’s holding it there. He pulls away then thrusts it in hard and then goes still. He’s moaning quietly now and I can feel his hardness inside me as he explodes. My hands are clawed about his ass, holding him close. My pulse is pounding between my legs…ah…ah…I’m still climaxing and so is he. He’s kissing me, his tongue ravenous for mine. My pelvis starts to move up and down. I could keep going with this all day.
“I came with penetrative sex,” I gasp.
“I hardly even fucked you, if you noticed. I didn’t need to. This is just getting you warmed up, Pearl. Just getting you used to me inside you. We’ll get there. This isn’t a race, time is on our side.” He pulls out of me slowly and I suddenly feel bereft. His face is inches away, his lips on my cheek but I feel lonely already. I can’t get enough of him. This is crazy.
“I want more,” I breathe, still feeling tingles from my intense orgasm, craving him inside me again, the intimacy, the deep connection.
“I know you do.”
“I want more now.”
“Well you’ll have to wait,” he says with a trace of a smirk. “I have work to do. And you do, too.” He looks at his watch. “It’s seven a.m.”
“Please.”
He starts laughing. I suspect he loves being in control. He is in command of my body as if I were a marionette. I’m writhing on the bed, the sheets deliciously rubbing between my thighs, extending my post orgasm thrill. I swear, if he were to enter me again, I could come once more. But he’s standing up putting on his jeans.
“Breakfast time,” he barks. “Up, up, lazy girl, get that sweet butt off the bed, move that little Pearlette into action.”
“More action – exactly. Give my Pearlette more action. Please.”
He laughs again. “Let’s just say things are going as I hoped they would. I like seeing you hungry for me.”
I’m on my stomach, still lying on the bed. I press a cushion in between my thighs and start moving up and down, my buttocks high in the air – trying to tempt him.
“Careful, little girl, or I’ll have to fuck you from behind. But really fuck you hard. Till you’re ravaged inside.”
I start moaning. Begging. “Yes Please.” I have no shame. No composure. No dignity.
He approaches the bed and I feel victorious. He’s going to give it to me. Ram it up me. Fill me up. Yes!
But instead, he lifts me off the mattress and carries me like a baby in his arms to the bathroom. He sets me down. He opens the glass doors of the shower and turns on the faucet. He claps his hands loudly and there’s a ringing in the air. He says, “Shower time! In you get, Pearl.”
I do as he says. He eyes my naked body up and down and takes his jeans back off. He’s stiff again. Yes!
We are both in the shower together and I’m still feeling stimulated. I want my power back. I take the shower gel, put some on my fingers and lather it across his back, shoulders and his athletic torso, and I move down his thighs. He’s hard as a diamond. I crouch down, feeling the warm water splashing on top of me and take him in my mouth again. I’m hungry – desperate for him, shameless with my voracious appetite. I concentrate hard on making him groan, clinging to his leg as I suck on him.
“You just can’t stop, can you?” he says. But I know he likes it, as he flexes his hips towards my mouth.
“No, I can’t get enough of you,” I pant, and then start licking his shaft as if my life depended on it.
My nipples are erect without him even touching them. The water is splashing on them, arousing me. I stand up and kiss him on his mouth, holding his erection tightly in the grip of my hand. He shoves his thigh between my legs and I
gasp. His wet flesh is pushing against my clitoris; he rams it hard against me as I start to writhe on his leg. My hand is moving up and down on his hard-on, faster now to the same rhythm that my pelvis is pushing up and down, pressing against his firm thigh. My hard nipples are smacking against his chest. I keep this up for several minutes until I feel the blood rush along his phallus, and creamy liquid ooze in a gush in between and over my fingers. I push harder on his thigh and hit that divine spot. My orgasm is rising hot between my legs. I’m groaning, kissing his chest, taking his nipples between my teeth. He growls out my name. It’s a simultaneous orgasm – both of us pleasuring each other in the same moment.
“Pearl/Alexandre,” we cry out at once.
I collapse in his strong arms, the water beating on my head.
Finally, I feel satiated.
Now I can go to work.
8
I have never been this obsessed by sex. Ever. I am akin to a thirteen year-old boy reaching puberty, with sex constantly on the brain. All day, I walk about with fire between my legs. I am like a zombie at work, an automaton. After this morning’s love-making I can’t think of anything but Alexandre and his body parts and all the things he has done to me, and will do to me.
I am playing Under My Thumb by The Rolling Stones on my iPod – how apt. I have been, literally, under his thumb.
My cell phone wakes me up from my shallow-breathed daydream.
The voice says, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” It’s HIM.
“What are you thinking?” I ask guardedly, my stomach dipping with excitement and nerves. I’ve already humiliated myself enough this morning, already demonstrated that I’m like an addict who needs a fix, and that I have no control over myself whatsoever. Not when it comes to him, anyway.
“I’m thinking about you,” he tells me, his voice deep and seductive. Thank God he still wants me. “And you? Are you thinking the same?”
“No,” I reply.