Sarah's Education

by Madeline Moore

  John released Sarah’s nipple. His hand dropped into her lap, where she was masturbating herself shamelessly. Hooked fingers went up into her, sure and strong, taking her sex as if they had every right to use it anyway they wished, and they pumped while she played with her clit until Sarah yipped and …

  A deep convulsion ejected a sudden gush of fluids from her sex.

  John chuckled. ‘A squirter, eh? Is that the first time you’ve ejaculated?’

  ‘No. It’s happened a couple of times before.’

  ‘There’s a good girl. I want you to be honest with me. Honesty frees you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Sarah, now we’ve taken the edge off your lust, we’ll take a break. I’m going to order supper from room service. For the next little while, I want you to think about what you’ve confessed to me, and to yourself. If you want to take any of it back, tell me. If you don’t, I’m going to make some of your fantasies come true. I’ll enjoy teaching you. Would you like me to be your sexual tutor?’

  ‘I think so, sir. But what about …?’ She twisted round in his arms and worked a hand down between their bodies, to where his erection strained against his fly.

  ‘That’ll wait,’ he said. Anticipation is at least half the pleasure, don’t you agree?’

  She nodded.

  ‘And don’t make me tell you again. Lose the “sir”.’

  12

  JOHN ORDERED BENTO boxes from Sakura, the hotel’s Japanese restaurant, and a bottle of Mumm. Sarah thought that the Dom Perignon Jack had bought her was better, but the Mumm was still delicious.

  Wow! Some of her girlfriends liked Coke; some preferred Pepsi. She, however, had champagne preferences, Dom Perignon over Mumm. How sophisticated was that!

  She’d eaten a lot of Thai and Indian food over the years but never Japanese. John warned her about wasabi, thank goodness, just before she got the portion she’d scooped up on her chopsticks to her mouth. The tempura was crunchy-yummy but she wasn’t so sure about the sushi. Perhaps it was an acquired taste.

  A good escort makes interesting or witty conversation but all Sarah could think to ask was, ‘Have you known a lot of escorts, John?’ As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them, but he didn’t seem offended.

  ‘I had a friend who was in your business, once, but you’ll be the first girl I’ve made love to who was paid for it.’

  ‘A friend who was a professional escort?’

  ‘Why not? In her case, it was her vocation. It’s an ancient and honest trade. My friend loved sex and was very skilled at it. Isn’t that the best sort of career, getting paid for doing what you’d do for nothing but the pleasure of it?’

  ‘I guess it is.’

  ‘Don’t you enjoy your work?’

  Sarah thought about that for a moment. Every paid date she’d been on, so far, had been fun. She was honestly able to reply, ‘Yes, I do enjoy this work, very much.’

  ‘That’s good. If you didn’t, it’d be a hard life, I imagine.’ He dipped a tiger shrimp into pineapple sauce and popped it into his mouth. ‘Why did you ask about my experience with escorts, Sarah?’

  ‘You seem to know so much about women. I guessed you’d had a lot of experience.’

  ‘Sarah, I’m close to forty. I’ve never married but I’ve lived with several women, not to mention casual encounters or “friends with benefits”. I adore women. It’d be a sad reflection on me if I hadn’t learnt a thing or two about them.’

  ‘And you don’t mind teaching me?’

  ‘Teaching an apt pupil is a distinct pleasure for me, I assure you.’

  ‘Then tell me what men like.’

  He almost spluttered. ‘Surely you know.’

  ‘I want to know more. From you.’

  ‘That’s a tough one. There are men who don’t like women at all, as you probably know, and there are some who have extreme tastes. I take it that you’re asking me what most men, average men, like?’

  ‘Please?’

  ‘About the only universal I can think of, not counting those men with extreme tastes, is enthusiasm. We like women to ask for what they want. Men like women to show that they’re horny and to express it openly; also to show that they enjoy whatever activity they’re engaged in, whether it be giving or taking.’

  ‘What about faking orgasms?’

  ‘In your business, I image that’s not unusual.’

  ‘I’ve never had to, not yet.’

  ‘That’s wonderful! Either you are that paragon among women, not only hot but easily satisfied, or you’ve been very fortunate with your clients.’

  ‘Talking dirty is good, right?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Usually, but not always. There are men who’d find it offensive. With those, non-verbal communication would be better.’

  ‘Like screaming when I come and such?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But most men like sexy talk?’

  ‘Yes, the franker the better.’

  Sarah grinned. ‘So, if I told you that I’m really looking forward to wrapping my talented lips around your beautiful big cock, you’d like that?’

  ‘Both the words and the deed.’

  ‘Well, I am – looking forward to it.’ Sarah stood up, shrugged out of her shirt-blouse, and rounded the table towards John.

  A broad grin took ten years off his age. He said, I’m very attracted to you, Sarah, but let’s wait for just a little while. I flew in early this morning and haven’t had time to freshen up properly. Give me half an hour to shower and shave and then my cock will be at your disposal, I promise, and we’ll continue with Sarah’s education.’

  ‘I’ll try to be a straight A student, John.’

  ‘And I’ll be a strict tutor.’

  Giving him her coyest look, Sarah asked, ‘An oral exam first, please?’

  ‘Oral first,’ he agreed.

  As soon as he disappeared into the bathroom, Sarah checked her bum in the mirror again. It was still mottled. When she touched it, it was still hot. He’d said he liked girls to be flexible. Sarah touched her toes; tried a back bend and did a couple of jumping jacks. She was no contortionist but she could kiss her own knees with her legs straight and together. Hopefully that’d do.

  Being naked but for her hose and tie was sexy. She kicked off her shoes and tried strutting on tiptoe. It did nice things for her legs. Back at the mirror again, she flexed the cheeks of her bottom.

  Poor little bottom. It was going to be violated for the very first time, and soon. She sucked a fingertip and managed to work it up her rear passage. When she concentrated on the sensations and put her shame aside, it didn’t feel bad at all. Of course, her finger was nowhere near the size of …

  ‘Preparing yourself?’

  Sarah whirled. His hair was still wet. John was wearing pyjama pants and nothing else. It suited him. He had the shoulders for it, and a broad chest that tapered nicely to his waist.

  ‘Just wondering what it’ll feel like,’ she explained.

  ‘The thought scares you?’

  ‘Some, but I still want to try it. As long as it’s safe.’

  ‘Of course. If you change your mind …?’

  ‘It’s not up to me, is it. I have to submit to you, sir, I mean, John, no matter what.’

  ‘You like that idea, don’t you?’

  Sarah nodded, suddenly shy.

  ‘Can you divide your mind into compartments, Sarah?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Make a compartment where you know that you are safe in my hands and can stop anything I do to you or demand of you with a simple request, “Please stop.” Make another compartment where you consider yourself totally at my mercy, no matter what. Can you do that?’

  Sarah bit her lower lip and considered. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excellent. How do you stop me?’

  ‘Please stop.’

  ‘Good. Remember that, in that compartment.’ He sat on the end of the bed. ‘And now, I promised you the chance to
show off your oral skills.’ His voice deepened and became commanding. ‘Give me your tie.’

  Puzzled, Sarah obeyed.

  ‘Turn around, wrists crossed behind your back.’

  Ah, right. She’d told him she fancied trying bondage. It would be different, giving him head without having the use of her hands. The woman in the movie had done it. She should have paid more attention.

  When her wrists were secured, he turned her to face him. His hands on her shoulders pushed her down onto her knees. He reached into his fly and pulled his shaft out. Nice! Really nice! It mightn’t have been quite as thick as Luigi’s, but it was longer, with smooth skin that was all one colour. He was fully erect already, as far as she could tell, which was a nice compliment.

  John’s left hand made a fist that gathered both of her bunches, tugging at her hair but not painfully. His right hand took hold of her throat. She was a toy to him. It was scary how vulnerable she felt. Her safety depended on his skills and gentleness. Sarah felt that she’d come to a crossroads. She could use, ‘Please stop,’ and trust that he’d release her, or she could put herself into his hands totally. Absolute surrender. Absolute.

  Her clit was tingling. Part of her wished that the hand that held her hair was more cruel. That same part wanted the hand that held her throat to tighten, not to choke her – that’d be crazy – but enough that her breathing would be restricted, just a little bit. Sarah licked her lips.

  John’s hands moved her head. It brought her lips to within an inch of his cock’s moist head. Its aroma filled her mouth.

  She looked up into his eyes. ‘Please?’

  ‘You want it?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I want your cock, please. I want it in my mouth. I want to taste it, lick it and suck it. Please let me show you how much I need it.’

  ‘Tongue first,’ he ordered her.

  She lapped out. The dome was smooth and hot and wet. It tasted sweet but tart at the same time, with musky undertones. The tip of her tongue explored its glossy circumference. The most sensitive part, she’d learnt, was its knot, just beneath its dome. She found that perfect imperfection and caressed it with tiny wet laps.

  ‘Good girl.’

  He approved!

  John allowed her mouth to come an inch closer. Sarah pursed her lips as if to bestow a baby kiss on his knot but sucked air in as hard as she could instead.

  He shivered and murmured, ‘Nice!’

  Score one for Sarah.

  She strained forwards against his grip. He allowed her to get another inch closer, close enough that her lips could gloss over his plum. How different he was from the other men she’d given oral sex. They had all been keen to get their cocks’ heads into her mouth as quickly as they could. She suspected that John was no less eager than the others but he was controlling his urges. That was comforting. If he could keep that much of a tight rein on himself, he’d be much less likely to get carried away by lust and accidentally hurt her. She could trust him.

  Her lips mumbled over smooth hard flesh. Her tongue lashed at it. A fraction at a time, he allowed her to take him deeper until the flare at the base of his glans passed between her lips. Sarah could feel his thighs flex, even though he didn’t thrust. She moaned softly, encouragingly. If he wanted to ram into the depths of her mouth, she was ready for it. He didn’t.

  Did she want him to be a little more demanding? Sarah wasn’t sure. As if he sensed her unspoken question, his hands gripped her harder, really pulling on her hair and definitely restricting her breathing. Sarah gurgled. If he didn’t feel that, he had to be able to hear it. Her mouth was too full for her to form words. The sounds she was making were as close as she could come to ‘talking dirty’.

  He said, ‘There’s a good girl. I think I’m as hard as I’m going to get, Sarah.’ He pushed her head back so that her lips lost their treat. ‘Fetch me the butter off the trolley.’

  ‘I – How?’ She twisted to remind him that her wrists were bound.

  ‘You’ll find a way.’

  Sarah lurched to her feet. John was giving her a physically challenging task to perform. How did she feel about that? Unsure, she shelved the question for later, when she wasn’t in the peculiar mental state that he’d somehow put her into. With her back to the trolley, she groped around until she got a two-handed grip on the silver butter dish. It was vital that she didn’t tip it and let the butter drop to the floor. To do so would be to fail him. On the Web, she’d learnt about girls who were styled ‘brats’. A brat would drop the butter deliberately, hoping to get punished for it. Sarah would hate to be considered one of those dishonest girls. She resolved to always be honest about what she wanted and never try to provoke a man into …

  Into what? Brats craved corporal punishment. Did she? Spanking certainly turned her on. Was it just the physical pain or was it something more complicated? More questions to consider, but later.

  John took the butter dish from behind her back and set it on a bedside table. There was a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. He moved it down and to one side. It had to be something to do with what he planned to do to her. Oh – of course! Sarah crossed to the bed and bent over the pile of pillows.

  ‘No, not like that,’ John said. He took her nape in one hand, slid his other arm under her knees and flipped her over, the back of her head on the bed, her hips high on the soft pile, her body titled up at forty-five degrees.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Your first time is important, Sarah. It’ll be a very intimate and emotional moment for both of us. We should be able to see each other’s faces. I especially want to watch your eyes.’

  She and Jack had been face to face when he’d taken her maidenhead, if her memory was accurate. They hadn’t made much eye contact though. Was her first time ‘up her bum’ going to be more romantic than when she’d given her virginity away? That was a weird thought.

  John’s big fist wrapped both of her ankles. He pressed her legs back until her knees bracketed her breasts. Sarah felt fingers spread the cheeks of her bottom. He bent closer to that forbidden valley. Christ! He was inspecting her there, looking directly at her bum hole. She felt herself flush.

  ‘Absolutely gorgeous,’ he said. ‘You look as if you’ll be very tight but looks can be deceptive.’ His face went even closer.

  Sarah felt the cheeks of his face press against the cheeks of her bottom. Something wet and warm … Fuck! He was licking her there. Her culture decreed that this was a dirty place, forbidden. Taboo. Now a man’s tongue was circling and circling and spiralling in and … probing at the tiny hole in the centre. Sarah knew that she could have, and should have, refused to allow that obscene caress. The words, ‘Please stop,’ filled her mouth but somehow refused to come out. She clenched her sphincter. John’s tongue insisted. If he really wanted to do that thing, it’d be rude to refuse, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t do to offend a client, particularly one she found so attractive.

  Little by little, she made her sphincter relax. His tongue couldn’t actually get inside but her relaxation exposed an area that was incredibly sensitive. It felt … It felt delicious, in a deeply depraved sort of way.

  After this, after his doing this incredibly intimate thing to her, for her, she wouldn’t be able to deny him anything at all, no matter how shameful.

  He stood. His arm reached out to the side table. His fingers scooped butter. It felt cold on her bottom, particularly on her anus. John smeared around and around, probing at her hole each time his fingers passed over it. He straightened. Sarah peered up her body at him. His shaft reared up beyond and between her feet. He was rolling on a condom.

  ‘Now,’ he said. He released her ankles but she held them up close to her chest. His hand took hold of her sex, four fingers splayed across her mound, his thumb up inside her, so that he was grasping her by her pubic bone. With that iron grip, he had total control over her body. A twist of his wrist could have turned her over, painfully, irresistib
ly. He could have raised her up or pressed her down. But that didn’t seem to be his intention. He held her simply to steady her.

  His other hand bent his shaft down, out of her sight. She felt its cool slipperiness nestle against the knot of her anus. John leant forwards at an angle. His jet-black eyes gazed down into hers.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  Sarah nodded.

  ‘You can still change your mind. We don’t have to do this if you’ve qualms.’

  She shook her head. ‘I want it, please.’

  ‘Very well.’ The pressure increased.

  There was no way that thing was going to fit in there. It was far too big. Involuntarily, she clenched. The pressure continued. Sarah felt her flesh indenting. She wasn’t opening to him. He was just pushing a deep dimple into her.

  Ah! That tight little ring of muscle surrendered to his male power and sighed open. The great hard bulb of his cock was forcing its way in, stretching her every bit of the way.

  ‘It’s happening,’ he told her. ‘I’m doing it. Your naughty little bum is opening up for me nicely. Does it hurt?’

  ‘Yes – don’t stop. Do it, please. I want it.’ She was being forced to dilate and the surrender was so incredibly sweet.

  His tip was gripped by her sphincter. Gazing into her eyes, a sardonic grin on his face, John pulled back a fraction of an inch, then eased forwards again.

  ‘Please?’ she begged.

  ‘All the way?’

  ‘All the way.’

  ‘This far?’ His knob passed just beyond her muscular ring.

  Sarah’s rubbery flesh closed around John’s shaft, immediately behind its head. ‘More please?’ she asked. ‘All the way in.’

  He rocked. Each little push forwards buried his cock a fraction of an inch deeper into the tight sleeve. If she could have, Sarah would have thrust up at him, but his grip on her pubic bone held her immobile. She had to accept whatever he granted her, at whatever speed he allowed.

  John’s free hand took hold of her hair. She was totally helpless. His bulk pressed her thighs back. Her arms were bound behind her. His double grip kept her immobile. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that she still had control over.