Possessing Josephine (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Silke Ming

  “No, what is it?”

  “About six years ago, I met a young lady at a function. She was beautiful. She was humorous, and intelligent. She laughed a lot and I immediately fell in love with her. She was tall and lithe and reminded me of a tropical tree called a casuarina.”

  “A casuarina tree?”

  “Yes. She was tall with long elegant limbs, and when she moved, she looked like the branches of a casuarina tree. I approached her and we talked with each other for almost the entire evening. Soon after that we started seeing each other on a regular basis. We went out to dinner, to the theater, and we enjoyed each other’s company. We would kiss and caress each other, but she never allowed me to make love to her.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t interested in you that way, or perhaps she didn’t believe in sex before marriage.”

  “I was not sure what the problem was. We always went so far and no further. She would always cut me off. You cannot imagine the frustration, not to mention the pain I endured. After each date with her, my cock ached with the pressure from pent-up desire. I had fallen in love with her, and I knew she loved me, which made it very difficult for me to understand.”

  “And what happened?” she asked, turning on her side and resting on her elbow.

  “I remember the day that I had her name tattooed on arm. When she saw it, she cried.”

  “So her name was Flower?”

  “No, it was her nickname. I can understand why they called her that.”

  “Why would they give her a Swahili name?”

  “Because it was her culture. Her parents were from Tanzania.”

  “Is she black?”

  “Yes. She spoke Swahili.”

  “Is she a well-known person?”

  “Yes, she is, but I cannot tell you her name because there is an on-going court case and I am defending her. You know all about client confidentiality.”

  “You asked me a few minutes ago if I had ever heard of FGM. What is it?”

  “It’s female genital mutilation.”

  She stared at him, afraid to ask the next question, and he stared at her wondering what the next question would be.

  “So you are still friends, I presume.”

  “Yes, we’re friends, but now it is purely platonic. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t seen her for more than a year when she called me.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She wanted me to represent her. It was the strangest thing when I saw her after such a long time. I realized that those deep feelings I had for her had disappeared. I was still very fond of her, but I didn’t have that yearning for her that I once had.”

  “Did you come after me because you wanted a replacement for someone you couldn’t have?”

  “Not at all,” he replied. “From the moment I saw you, I was totally attracted to you.”

  “I know you can’t discuss the case, but did someone do something to her?”

  “Yes, a rather horrible thing. She was born in New York City, but her family kept up the old traditions of the home country. Because they couldn’t find a doctor or health worker here to circumcise her, her mother brought an old midwife here to do the job. She was only five years old.”

  “Is that the reason why she never allowed you to make love to her?”

  “I never asked her, but I believe that was the problem. She was probably ashamed.”

  “But it was not her fault.”

  “That makes no difference. This is not the first case of that nature that I’ve taken on. These ladies are ashamed of their affliction and some of them never marry.”

  “Dear God!” Josie whispered. “If you loved her as much as you say you did, it shouldn’t have mattered.”

  “You must remember that I knew nothing about her problem until recently.”

  “I forgot about that.”

  “How long have we known each other?” he asked, studying her.

  “Not long,” Josie replied. “A little more than a week.”

  “Have I ever not touched you on any of those occasions when we were together?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “You know that I love sex, and when I’m with someone I love, I want to touch them and be intimate with them. I could never consider leading a celibate life, nor could I be unfaithful to my partner. Don’t you think it better that I am up front and honest?”

  “You’ve got a point and I appreciate your honesty,” she said, happy to hear what he had just said.

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Slowly! Slowly!” shouted Richard. “Daisy doesn’t know you.”

  Josie tried again and the horse turned toward him, with a slow gallop.

  “That’s better,” he said. “Much better.”

  “I’m so nervous.”

  “You don’t want her to know that. Show more confidence, Josie.”

  She finally got the animal under control, and it moved toward the fence. Richard walked up to them and took the reins.

  “You did very well. I think she likes you. Thanks, Harvey,” he said, handing the reins to the trainer.

  They walked in the direction of the house, and he turned around to make sure that Harvey was out of sight before he grabbed her cheeks.

  “It hurts between my legs,” she said.

  “I have hardly touched you all day.”

  “I’m talking about being on the horse.” She laughed. “You know that.”

  “I can massage it for you. That would make it better.”

  “I don’t trust you,” she said with a loud laugh. “I don’t think you will be able to concentrate on the massage.”

  “All your fault, Josie! You make it much too tempting for me to concentrate.”

  “Is there a phantom in this house?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “Some invisible person made breakfast this morning. We come in at lunchtime, and lunch is already on the table.”

  “That’s Mrs. Harris. She is very discreet.”

  “Where does she live?”

  He led her over to the window and pointed to a house about one kilometre away.

  “That’s where she lives with Harvey.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “It’s the best arrangement I have ever made. She knows when to come and when to go. I told her I was going to have a house guest for the weekend, so she stays out of the way.”

  “Did you ever bring her here?”

  “Her?”

  “Your client! Flower?”

  “Of course she has been here. Many times! She was the woman in my life.”

  “I see.”

  “What do you see?” he asked. “There’s no need to be jealous. That was in my past. You are my present and my future.”

  He hugged her and held her close.

  “Doesn’t your heart beat faster when you see her?”

  “Not as fast as when I see you. Let’s have lunch.”

  After a quick wash, they sat down at the dark granite counter in the kitchen. Even the bottle of red wine was already open, sitting beside two glasses and awaiting them. Mrs. Harris was indeed the perfect housekeeper. Mrs. Harris had prepared a crisp salad with papaya slices, prosciutto, pomegranate seeds, pecorino cheese with a vinaigrette dressing and a delightful potato soup.

  “I must ask Mrs. Harris for the recipe for the soup,” she said when she finished her portion.

  “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Just don’t,” he said, his mouth drawn in a firm line.

  That confused her. She could see no reason why she couldn’t ask for the recipe, so she let it go and forgot about it.

  “How about pizza for dinner?” he asked sipping his wine. “I know a little place, not too far away from here.”

  “That sounds good. I haven’t had pizza in a long time.”

  “Now I know how you manage to keep that perfect figure.”

  “It’s not by any
means perfect. My thighs are too big.”

  “They’re just perfect,” he said, running his hands along them.

  He got off the stool and deposited the dishes in the dishwasher. She watched him as he placed each piece into the individual space. She was falling in love with him. She loved his handsome face, his green eyes and most of all, his wonderful temperament and his love for her.

  “Tomorrow morning, we’ll be leaving for New York,” he said smiling.

  “I would love that.”

  “I’ve got tickets for Les Misérables and we can make a weekend of it. I’ve booked a hotel for us, so that we wouldn’t have to drive back here in the dead of night.”

  “But I have nothing with me to wear to a show.”

  “There are lots of stores in New York City where you can find something appropriate to wear. We can find out from the hotel concierge where the best shopping is.”

  She smiled at him.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “How lucky I am, and how fortunate for me to have walked into Mercy’s a week ago.”

  “It was my good fortune,” he replied. “What should we do now?”

  “We can talk.”

  “About what?” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “We’ll think of something.”

  “I know what we can do,” he said, tightening his grip on her. “I’ll show you the rest of the house, and then I’ll make you come.”

  His words were always chosen, it seemed, to arouse her. The thought of having him inside her excited her. She , too, loved sex, and couldn’t think of saying no to him. His very presence in her life made her feel special. A surge of emotion overtook her and she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She desperately wanted him.

  They moved from room to room, each one more beautifully decorated than the next He showed her one bedroom on the ground floor which was furnished with a queen-size bed and another armoire with mirrored doors, which took up the full length of the wall, making the room seem twice as big as it really was. From the window was a view of the field where the horses roamed free.

  “If you want to move in here, it is all yours, but I must let you know I would never allow it. If you move into this house, you must share my bed.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she replied.

  “I’m glad you see it my way. You want me as much as I want you,” he said, pulling her to him and falling onto the bed.

  “Is this where the tour ends?” she asked.

  “I’ll show you the rest later.”

  His hands explored under her T-shirt, all the while gazing into her eyes.

  “No bra? That makes things nice and easy. Let’s get rid of the T-shirt,” he said, quickly pulling it over her head.

  He sat facing her and running his thumbs over each nipple, making circles around them. He concentrated on what he called “her containers,” still staring at them and then back into her eyes. Desire was etched across her face. He lifted her arms above her head and attached his lips to her breast. Her eyes closed tight, groans of pleasure burst from her insides as she submitted her body to him.

  Sitting with his back against the headboard he pulled her to him, her back to his chest. He pushed his hand down her jeans and stroked her. She groaned again and turned to kiss him while he continued to caress her deep between her thighs. She gyrated to the movement of his fingers and their eyes met as she gazed sleepily into the mirrored armoire doors.

  “Take off your jeans,” he whispered.

  She opened the clasp at the waist, and kicked them off. He hurriedly did the same. They moved back to their original positions and he parted her legs and stroked her gently. Their eyes met again in the mirror, and both seemed to be in a daze.

  “Look how beautiful you are,” he said, staring into the mirror.

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes fastened on the image.

  “I could never give this up,” he said grabbing her left breast in his left hand. “Have you ever seen anything this erotic?”

  “Never.”

  “Do you like what I’m doing to you?”

  They heard the chime from the alarm. Someone had entered the house. She tried to spring up, but he held her tightly against him.

  “It’s only Mrs. Harris returning to clean up the kitchen.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, a little panicked.

  “I know it’s her, but she won’t come in here as long as I’m in the house.”

  She spread her legs again, watching as two fingers now increased her passion, while she continued to writhe and groan.

  “Remember that promise I made to you yesterday?” he asked.

  “What promise?” she asked, as their eyes met in the mirror.

  “I said I would lick you all day and I haven’t lived up to my promise. I want you to lie on your back.”

  Her swollen clit lay open and inviting before him. He moved to a kneeling position and licked her. She cried out as if begging for mercy. His hands splayed beneath her buttocks, raising her to the assault. His tongue worked somersaults over her pussy and she shamelessly begged for more. He worked two fingers into her and she lifted her hips to meet them.

  “I want to keep fucking you all day and all night. Would you like that?” he asked, shifting position and rubbing his swollen crown around her entrance.

  “Put it inside me,” she begged.

  He pushed his cock slowly into her, and she lifted to receive him.

  “Oh God!” he called out, as he stared at the junction where their bodies were joined.

  He kept a vigilant watch as he moved in and out, seeing his long cock appear and disappear again inside her. She trembled and her body was suddenly covered with goose bumps.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered.

  “No.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Good,” he replied, as his tempo increased, “because I’ve just started.”

  After many position changes, she found herself at the bottom of the bed, with his cock deep inside her. She matched him move for move, bucking and gyrating. She held him tight and threw her legs around his waist.

  “Yes, that’s beautiful,” he said, plunging deeper into her until she came.

  He was soon pumping his hot juices into her, and she cried out, calling his name.

  “I love you,” she said, licking inside his ear.

  “I love you, too,” he replied, wrapping himself around her and stretching out across the bed.

  When he opened his eyes, it was almost six o’clock. They had both fallen asleep from exhaustion.

  “Time for pizza!” he said, kissing her gently.

  “What time is it?”

  “Six o’clock. Let’s go upstairs and have a shower,” he said, as she sat up groggily.

  Chapter Eight

  “How much time before we reach New York City?” she asked, gently touching his hand.

  “In another hour, we should be there. Are you excited?”

  “Yes, I am. I have only been to New York on two other occasions. Once when I was a child on a school tour, and another time on my way to Washington with another school group.”

  “I know you will love it. I don’t get the chance to go there as often as I would like,” he said. “Work always interferes with pleasure.”

  She laughed.

  “Maybe we can do it more often. Perhaps take in a show, go to dinners, or just for the sake of shopping.”

  “My salary does not allow me to do all those wonderful things,” she said, laughing.

  “That’s why I’m here. I’ll give you everything you need.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes. Within reason!”

  She laughed again.

  “Have you ever taken her there?” she asked.

  “Yes, she spent a lot of time there, but she came up to visit me sometimes.”

  “You must’ve really loved her,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t pled
ge undying love for her.

  “I told you that before. I did love her.”

  “How did you find out about what had happened to her?”

  “After she disappeared from my life, I never heard anything more from her, even though I tried calling her and making a fool of myself. Then, about a year ago, she called my home and left a message. By that time, I had more or less gotten over her, but I was curious, so I returned her call and we made an appointment to meet for dinner. When I saw her, my heart didn’t leap from my chest. Then I knew it was truly over between us. She was still beautiful and I still cared for her, but the love had died.”

  “Were you seeing someone else?”

  “I wouldn’t say that I was seeing anyone. I went out on dates and yes, I had many female friends, but no one who touched my heart the way you have.”

  “Have I really?”

  “You know that. You have captured my heart, Josie. You really have,” he said, turning to look at her. “Anyway, over dinner she explained why she wanted to see me. She was going to sue her mother and an accomplice, and she wanted me to take the case.”

  “That must’ve been a shock.”

  “It was. I just couldn’t fathom it. A daughter suing her mother? At first I thought it had something to do with money, but by the time dinner was over, she had told me the sordid story in every detail. She cried when I asked her if it was the reason she ended our relationship. She said she knew she could never be the kind of partner I was looking for and thought it better to break it off.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “What could I say? I told her how sorry I was and wished that she had explained it back then instead of just walking away. Then she asked me a very difficult question.”

  “What was that?”

  “She wanted to know if it would’ve made any difference if she had told me back then. Would I have been satisfied with her the way she was? A mutilated woman! I didn’t answer because I couldn’t tell her the truth.”

  “That you couldn’t accept her the way she was?”

  “Yes. I know it sounds harsh, but I hardly knew anything about that awful subject. I really didn’t know what to say, because I couldn’t visualize her without that one important part of the female anatomy. Anyway, I told her I would defend her, and she was happy. I was happy, too, because I thought it a cold and cruel thing a mother would do to a daughter.”