Sarah's Education

by Madeline Moore

  ‘Take off your shirt,’ he said. She did. ‘Your bra, too.’ She did.

  ‘They’re not as big as Silky’s,’ she apologised.

  ‘They’re perfect.’ He covered each of her breasts with one of his hands. His fingers widened so that her pale-pink nipples poked between his knuckles. He nibbled one, then the other. A delicious thrill raced through Sarah. Obviously, she was in the hands of a consummate lover. Her nipples stiffened and darkened, so that when he raised his mouth from them it was as if he might’ve been wearing lipstick and had transferred the colour with his kisses.

  He stood and stripped off. His penis was erect. It seemed huge.

  Sarah’s finger touched the tip, tentatively. He shuddered. She’d done that.

  He reached under her kilt and stripped her of her white cotton panties. ‘I should probably eat you,’ he said, ‘to make you good and wet. This being your first time and all.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ she replied, ‘but I think I’m plenty wet already.’ She touched herself and nodded. ‘Yup,’ she said.

  Jack laughed. ‘You kill me, kiddo,’ he said. He stood between her legs so that his cock was wagging right under her nose. ‘Make my cock wet, then,’ he said.

  Sarah circled it with her lips. It wasn’t the first time she’d had a penis in her mouth. On a few occasions David had whined so piteously she’d topped off a handjob by sucking him for a few minutes until he spurted in her mouth. This was different, though. For one thing, Jack was in complete control of himself, and the situation. She felt sure he wouldn’t come from a few flicks and twirls of her tongue.

  And his cock, which was the right word for it, this thick warm thing that grew even bigger inside her mouth, his cock was much bigger than David’s, and circumcised, so that the head was prominent, making it seem more naked, and so braver, somehow, than David’s.

  ‘So you’ve given head before?’

  She nodded, his cock still in her mouth.

  ‘That’s nice,’ he said. ‘Do it again.’

  She nodded again, kept her tongue moving, her lips soft but tight around him.

  He didn’t shove it down her throat as she feared he might. He just stood, making little approving noises, while she tickled and teased him to the very best of her ability.

  ‘Lie down.’ He withdrew. Pushed her back onto the bed. Slid a condom on. Bent over her. Raised her skirt up to her tummy. Put his cock to her pussy’s tender lips. Plunged.

  ‘Christ, you’re tight,’ he muttered. He pushed harder and gained another few inches.

  Sarah didn’t make a sound. It hurt, more than she’d anticipated. Perhaps there’d be blood after all, even though she’d spent her early summers at a riding camp. She’d hate to make a mess on the fluffy duvet but more than anything she’d hate to interrupt Jack from – ouch.

  ‘I’m in,’ said Jack. He was bent over her, supporting his weight on his hands. He shook his head, trying to get his floppy dark hair out of his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were so tight?’

  Sarah brushed his hair back for him. ‘I don’t think it’s so much about me being so tight as you being so big.’

  He laughed. ‘You’ve got all the lines, Schoolgirl Sarah.’

  Jack pulled back. She’d been so filled by him that she could feel his cock tugging at the slick lining of her pussy. He paused at the opening and rocked back and forth, teasing her labia and clit with the head of his cock.

  Sarah yipped.

  ‘What was that?’ Jack grinned at her. He continued the little movements that kept the head just inside her.

  ‘I don’t know. Please –’ She was mortified by the injured puppy noise she’d made but he was torturing her, admittedly in a most enjoyable way. She just had to get that cock deeper inside. She humped her hips at him, gaining an inch. She yipped again.

  ‘Baby’s cock-hungry, hmm?’

  His words were coarse but she liked it. She nodded, jerked her hips, yipped again. It seemed she might come, given enough time, although she’d never had an orgasm without direct clitoral stimulation before. Sarah didn’t want to wait to find out.

  ‘May I?’ She wiggled her fingers.

  ‘Allow me,’ he said. He pressed his thumb to her clit and rotated it in slow circles. At the same time he let her have another few inches, so that he was properly pumping into her once more.

  ‘Oh my God, that’s so good!’ Sarah’s blue eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘I mean really, really good. Fantastic!’

  ‘You like?’ He seemed highly amused by her, but in a benevolent way. He’d be laughing with her, not at her, if she were laughing.

  But she wasn’t laughing, she was making that strange yipping noise. It embarrassed her half to death but she couldn’t stop, especially not when he was fucking her long and slow, filling a part of her that had never seemed empty before, but clearly had been.

  ‘You like to fuck?’

  She nodded. Her eyes were locked on to his. She wanted to do something, to stroke his back or his balls or something to show she could give as well as take. But he was in charge and he seemed pleased to fuck her like this. To make that odd little sound escape her lips again, and again, until she truly was yipping like a wild thing, a horny wild she-beast that needed just a little more … a little more …

  On impulse she squeezed her breasts together and up, using her hands as a push-up bra. ‘Fuck me hard, please. I have to come now or I’ll die!’

  She saw the surprise in his eyes, the pleasure in his smile, and then he was thrusting, withdrawing, thrusting again, his thumb still steady, moving in tiny circles, and now it was as if only his cock inside her and his thumb on her clit anchored her to the bed as the she-beast inside her unfurled its wings and soared.

  Someone was making a lot of noise. Oh! It was her. Sarah yipped as each contraction caught and held her suspended for an obliterating moment, then yipped again as she was released to soar some more.

  He was yelling now, and fucking her furiously. For a moment she focused on his face above her, dreamy dark eyes and a fabulous smile. Her orgasm was abating; paroxysms of pleasure had become pleasant tremors. Before she could gather her senses another one began, and she was helplessly yipping and soaring even higher.

  More noise. Knocking? Cheering? Flashbulbs popping? Impossible.

  Jack collapsed on top of her. His weight pinned her in place. On a bed. In a swanky hotel suite. She wrapped her arms around him and held him. They were both trembling.

  She opened her eyes.

  ‘Bravo!’

  Bill and Silky and Andrea and Mimi, which was obviously what ‘Me-Me’ meant, she now realised, were standing naked in the doorway to the room.

  Jack withdrew. She knew, for the very first time, how it felt to be achingly empty inside.

  ‘Can we play, too?’ Bill was grinning. The girls were also smiling, though some smiles seemed forced.

  ‘Beat it,’ said Jack.

  ‘We thought maybe someone was being murdered,’ said Silky.

  ‘I said get out.’

  They left, closing the door softly behind them.

  Jack collapsed on the bed beside Sarah. ‘Fuck, that was fantastic.’

  ‘I thought flashbulbs were exploding, like those big boxy cameras the paparazzi used in the olden days.’

  ‘Funny.’

  ‘Yes, but true. Just like in the movies. I saw stars!’

  ‘I saw a train disappearing into a tunnel.’

  ‘You did not!’ Sarah hadn’t known him long, but she could already tell he was teasing.

  ‘No. I saw a gorgeous young woman coming like a house on fire and it made me crazy. Made me come.’

  Sarah sat up. ‘I’m grateful,’ she said. ‘You made my first time special.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, a wry smile on his lips.

  ‘Now what?’ Sarah grinned at him.

  ‘Now we do it again,’ he replied.

  It was exactly the answer she’d hoped for but a playful i
mpulse prompted her to roll onto her tummy, as if to deny him. To her shocked surprise, she felt the flat of his open palm come down hard across her bottom. It stung. Was he angry with her? But no, he couldn’t be, because his hands gripped her hips and pulled her up on all fours. Sarah wriggled her bum encouragingly. He whacked her again.

  She didn’t know how to respond. Should she at least act offended until she decided if she was? She should probably say or do something before – too late. A third deliberate sharp slap landed and the happy moan that escaped her lips made any pretence at being annoyed impossible.

  ‘What a bad little schoolgirl you are,’ he told her. His voice was warm with admiration.

  ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘Please, Jack, make me badder.’

  Sarah hollowed her back, blatantly presenting her sex like a vixen inviting the attentions of a dog fox. She watched over her shoulder as he slid a fresh condom onto his erection. The few spanks he’d heated her bum with had obviously turned him on, too. Interesting. She looked forward to thinking about everything that was transpiring, later. But right now …

  Jack’s big hands took her hips once more. She spread her knees further apart and braced herself. He entered her, the position affording him a deeper penetration. Sarah’s thoughts scattered like tossed Scrabble tiles. She was free.

  2

  A SHARP, MOST unwelcome, rat-a-tatting yanked Sarah from a deep, dreamless sleep. She moaned into her pillow. She had a splitting headache, the kind any nascent drinker would experience when she drank, not a split of champagne, but almost a magnum. Oh God. Was that awful noise merely the sound of her pulse pounding at her temples? No. There it was again. Probably Bill and company trying to move in on them again. But why wasn’t Jack telling them to get lost? Oh God. Bill. Jack. Those girls. She opened her eyes.

  Where Jack’s head had lain the previous night there was an envelope with her name on it. She was alone. ‘Jack?’ Her voice was hoarse and no wonder. Her mouth was dry, as if she’d eaten sand the night before, and not the marvellous midnight meal the two of them had enjoyed.

  A glass of water and two Tylenol sat on the bedside table. She gratefully sipped the water, popped the tablets into her mouth and sipped again. ‘Oh God.’ It was all coming back to her now.

  The knocking had blessedly stopped. The doorknob to the room turned. She hoped it was Jack, coming back to her, but no, it was a rather large woman with an unmistakably disapproving look on her face.

  ‘Housekeeping.’ Her voice was flat. Her eyes took in the messy bedroom, the rumpled sheets, the empty bottle, the girl alone in the big bed.

  ‘Have you seen my friends?’

  ‘They go. You go too.’

  ‘Fine. Two minutes.’

  The big woman closed the door. Sarah heard a vacuum start up. Ouch.

  She got up. Got dressed. Grabbed the envelope from the pillow. Left the bedroom.

  The living room was a terrible mess, even worse than the bedroom. No wonder the housekeeper was disgusted. Still, weren’t they supposed to be polite to guests? Everyone had been so nice the night before, serving and bowing with professional flair.

  Sarah brushed a few half-eaten crab legs off her knapsack, pretending not to see that one ragged shell had fallen inside it. She hoisted the knapsack to her shoulder. The housekeeper was ignoring her. Good.

  It was all so difficult: the ride down the elevator; the eyes of tourists checking in and out all seemed to be checking her out, as if they’d never seen a dishevelled girl in a rumpled kilt before.

  Coffee. Desperate for coffee. But not here. Sarah was in danger of swelling to twice her normal size – not literally, but it might just as well be. When she was supremely uncomfortable in her surroundings she sometimes felt huge, clumsy, uncoordinated. It was a trick of her mind, she knew, but knowing neither kept it from happening nor made it bearable. Best to get out of this elegant hotel and find a greasy spoon somewhere, a place where she wouldn’t stand out like a huge sore thumb on an exquisitely manicured hand.

  Outside, brutal sunlight punished her skull. Oh God. Oh God. ‘I’ll never drink again,’ she muttered. Half prayer, half oath. It was horrible to feel like this. Horrible to be so ruined after such a magical night. Her legs creaked.

  Her bum hurt when she plopped into a banquette in the first café she encountered. She knew why her legs hurt, and her crotch, but her bum? Right. He’d spanked her a little, once, and then a little more. Gripped her cheeks tight when he took her from behind. God. She felt like she’d spent the day before on a day-long ride, bareback on a stallion too big for her.

  She dreaded the long walk back to her house. She could take a bus but she’d probably throw up if she did. Oh God. If only she could take a cab. Sarah cursed her luck. She should never have bought that ancient Volvo. What good was a car when it was always in the shop? The mechanics had refused her any more credit, so, although her car was repaired now, it was as good as gone, except for the payments she was still making on it. David should never have co-signed that car loan. David. Oh God.

  It wasn’t until she’d finished her second cup of coffee that she remembered the envelope Jack had left behind. She fished it from her knapsack, confident that it contained his contact information. She was quite sure she was in love with him, and last night she’d have bet any amount that he felt the same.

  There was no note. Just bills, a lot of them. She started to count. Two thousand five hundred dollars.

  The penny dropped.

  Four girls, three of them sexy and sophisticated, and her, but there’d only been two men. Sex from the moment the six of them were alone. Three of the girls willing to share one of the men.

  Damn!

  She’d been taken for a whore – a high-class one but still a whore. Her very first fuck and she’d been paid for it. If only she’d known; if only she’d understood. But that was Sarah’s curse. IQ tests and her grades said she was smart – smart enough to have skipped grade eight – but socially, she was always a step and a half behind everyone else. Often, when other people seemed to understand the undercurrents in conversations, she’d just smile and nod while her brain squirrelled around, trying to catch up. It had got her into trouble often – like the first time she’d joined in a heavy-petting make-out party and been bewildered by the spinning bottle. Even before, when she’d agreed to play Post Office and had been pleasantly shocked when a boy kissed her – her first real kiss. And now, her first fuck, also the result of her lack of understanding.

  But it hadn’t been ‘just a fuck’. It’d meant much more to her, and to Jack, she was sure. He hadn’t treated her like a prostitute. He’d been kind, and gentle, except for the whacks on her bum, which had been playful, at least. Boy, did she have some explaining to do the next time she saw him. Maybe, years into the future, they’d look back on the misunderstanding that had brought them together and laugh. Yes, she was sure they would.

  Poor David! He’d blown his chance with her and pretty well pushed her into Jack’s arms.

  Newly and exhilaratingly rich, she called a cab and had it take her to the Volvo dealership, where she paid her bill and filled up the tank. On the drive home she successfully resisted the desire to stop and shop a half-dozen times before finally succumbing. For the first time, she visited a sexy lingerie shop. Sarah chose a couple of daring pale-blue thongs, delicate as smoke caught in cobwebs, and a matching half-cup bra. The next time Jack reached up under her skirt, he wasn’t going to find plain old white cotton panties.

  Unless that was what he preferred? Hmm! Being sexually active was more complicated than she’d thought.

  Sarah drove home to the big old house on Maple that she shared with five other students.

  The front hallway was cluttered with suitcases and carry-on bags. She stared at them for a moment, her mouth open. Sarah recognised that blue duffel as her dad’s. Her folks were here from St Paul? But where? She called David’s number on the hall payphone that the student residents shared.

&nb
sp; He answered with, ‘Where the hell were you last night?’

  ‘I – um – Andrea’s? My friend – you don’t know her. We had some drinks. I – um – slept over?’ Why was she explaining and apologising when it was all David’s fault? Her voice changed. ‘Where was I supposed to be? You thought I’d stay in and mope after you forgot my damn birthday?’

  ‘Oh!’ It was his turn to be apologetic, or halfway apologetic, anyway. ‘Did you really think I’d forget your special day? It was supposed to be a surprise. Your parents flew in. We were going to make a big night of it. I made reservations. When you didn’t show, they went to their hotel.’

  ‘Their luggage is here.’

  ‘Most of the stuff at your place is presents. For you.’

  ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘You should have trusted me.’

  That was hard to argue with. Still, he knew she’d planned to go all the way with him for the first time on her birthday. Why complicate it by bringing her folks in? Maybe he wasn’t as hot for her as she’d thought.

  Keeping her voice cool, she told David, ‘Well, you really screwed up this time. If you think you know me, how come you didn’t know I’d take you literally when you pretended to forget my birthday?’ She hung up quickly while she still had the moral high ground.

  In her bedroom, Sarah succumbed to the blues that beckoned to her from her bed. She fell face down, muffling her sobs so none of her housemates would interrupt the flow of her thoughts, and her tears.

  ‘Jack,’ she whispered into her pillow, pounding it with her fists, ‘come back, come back for me.’ And so on, and on, until she fell asleep.

  That evening, David took Sarah and her parents to a Thai restaurant for her favourite food. She wore a short black skirt with a matching turtleneck. Now that Jack had released her womanhood, it seemed right to dress in a more sophisticated style. Even so, she went bare-legged.

  The meal likely strained David’s budget, especially the champagne, even if it was domestic and vastly inferior to the Dom that Jack had bought for her. With her new wealth she could have offered to pay part of the bill, at least, but that would have raised questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Anyway, he deserved the hit on his pocket.