Fifty Days of Sin

by Serena Dahl

  “You’ll just have to wonder,” I tell him, smiling even more.

  Despite being pleased that Adam is meeting some of my friends, I couldn’t help being nervous earlier today about what he would think of them – particularly Simon. My old sparring partner from when I read History here as an undergraduate has a habit of teasing me about my unconventional sex life. And although I’ve come clean to Adam now about Michael, I don’t relish the idea of Simon bringing up the subject of my lifestyle. But Simon leaves it alone for once, and when we leave and head home, I feel like Adam’s first introduction to my friends has been a success.

  “I had no idea you knew Matt,” I comment as I climb into the car and Adam shuts the door after me. He gets into the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, Matt’s a bit of a star, as it happens,” he replies. “He’ll go far.”

  I decide not to question him regarding their work, feeling a little awkward about the information Matt volunteered regarding Adam’s financial position. But then as he drives us through Oxford and out towards the outskirts, and pulls up in the driveway of a large detached house, I wonder if Matt wasn’t exaggerating.

  “Is this your place?” I ask, incredulous at its size. It looks like an awfully large house for just one person. Maybe he needs the space for the butler after all.

  “No, I just thought I’d steal it,” he laughs. I poke out my tongue and punch him gently on his upper arm. He catches my wrist and looks into my eyes, an amused look on his face, gazing at me for a few moments longer than necessary, as if deciding whether to retaliate. Then he smiles and lets me go.

  Once inside, I’m just as impressed with Adam’s house. It puts my little two-bedroom townhouse to shame. Decorated with taste, it’s furnished with expensive-looking faux antique pieces – or are they real antiques? Although I love the antique sofa in my room at college, my knowledge on the subject of old furniture doesn’t match up to my knowledge on the subject of old politics and events, so I can’t tell. But either way, it’s beautiful. We go to the kitchen, and he pours me another glass of red wine and then one for himself.

  “Thanks, Adam. I’d better sip this, and you can play catchup.”

  He leans over and lightly raises my chin, then kisses me softly on the lips. “I like the sound of playing,” he says with a glint in his eye. “But I need some sustenance first. Is risotto okay?”

  “Risotto sounds lovely,” I reply. I watch as he pours some liquid into a saucepan – stock, I presume – and he switches on the heat underneath. Then he selects vegetables from the fridge and starts to chop a selection, and measures out risotto rice on a set of scales. I’m impressed – he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

  While he gets the risotto cooking on the hob in a large green Le Creuset casserole dish, we tell each other about our days at work. All the time I watch his practised touch with the cooking, stirring, adding more stock and putting in chorizo, and I admire his strong, lean body and the perfection of his handsome face. When it’s finished and he’s stirred in parmesan shavings he puts it on the plates with a little salad and brings it to me at the kitchen table.

  “Bon appétit.”

  “Thanks, Adam, this smells wonderful.” I tuck in, and soon find that it’s even better than it looks and smells. “Is there no end to your talents?” I ask him.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He grins.

  “Did your mum teach you to cook?”

  “No, funnily enough she didn’t ever ask me to cook at home. And when I went to university I didn’t have a clue.”

  “What, she didn’t even teach you to make her famous treacle tart? So where did you learn to cook then?”

  “I watched Nigel Slater on the telly. And Jamie Oliver. And Gordon Ramsey, and the contestants on Masterchef.”

  “You sound like you watch nothing but cookery programmes. I didn’t know you were such a foodie.”

  “Well, I love good food and it’s nice to be able to make it at home, exactly how I like it. I could eat out all the time, but I wouldn’t want to. So I made the effort.”

  “I’m glad. It’s delicious. And the wine is lovely too.”

  He finishes first, and watches me struggle with the last of my risotto. “I really can’t eat all of this,” I tell him. “It’s a fantastic risotto, but you’ve given me enough to feed an elephant.”

  He laughs. “I can’t think of anyone less like an elephant than you. Okay, I’ll let you off the last little bit. I just thought you might need to keep your strength up.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Hmm, yes. Considering what I’ve got in mind for you.”

  “That sounds promising. What exactly have you got in mind for me?”

  “Now that would be telling. This is probably a silly question, but would you like dessert?”

  I tell him I couldn’t manage another thing, so we leave the kitchen. “I’ll give you the upstairs tour now if you like.” It’s just as tasteful and elegant as the rest of the house. He shows me a study, three guest bedrooms, a large bathroom and then leads me into the last of the rooms I’ve seen upstairs. “And this is the master bedroom.”

  “Mmm,” I manage. My heart is thumping now. He takes my hand.

  “I think you should try out the bed.” He pulls me to him gently and kisses me lightly on my lips. Then I smile up at him, and tentatively sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Go on, lie down. You can’t test a bed by sitting on it.” His handsome face is wearing a look of amusement.

  I do as he tells me, and lie down in the middle of the bed.

  “What do you think? Nice bed?”

  “Lovely bed,” I tell him. “Nice hard mattress.”

  “Do you like it hard?”

  “Yes, Adam, I do like it hard.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t like to disappoint you.” And then as he climbs on the bed and lies down on his side, raised up by one arm, next to me, I see his face change. His smile disappears and his eyes darken. He kisses me again. But it’s not a soft, gentle kiss this time, it’s forceful, full of desire. His hands are on me, pulling up the fabric of my top, and I raise my torso off the bed slightly to allow him to take it off. He reaches down and unfastens my skirt, pulling it down and off me and letting his eyes linger on the sight of me lying on his bed in my underwear. I’ve chosen a satiny nude matching bra and knickers set, adorned with black lace; one of my favourites.

  “Very nice,” he says, trailing a finger lingeringly from my collarbone down the curve of my breast, further down my ribcage and down past my navel, then slowly down to the lace of the knickers. Gradually, tantalisingly, as I look up into his eyes, I feel his touch inch further down until he softly brushes my clitoris through the silky fabric of my underwear. I shiver with pleasure, and then reach out to undress him.

  He went straight to meet me after work, so he’s smartly dressed in an impeccably pressed blue shirt and dark blue tie, with black suit trousers. I loosen and remove his tie, then unfasten his shirt buttons one by one, revealing as I do so a little more of the taut muscles of his chest every time. I pull the shirt out of his trousers and push it off his shoulders, and he unbuttons the cuffs and throws the shirt on the floor. Then he strips off his socks, trousers and boxer shorts, and he’s next to me in all his beautiful, naked glory.

  “Adam, you have such a fantastic body,” I tell him, my gaze travelling up and down him. He’s fully erect already and I can’t wait to feel him inside me.

  “So do you, Justine. You’re so beautiful.” He touches me again, and his hand travels down to caress my breast. I feel another ripple of pleasure.

  And then he’s on top of me. Again he claims my mouth, one hand touching my breast, firmly, insistently. He pushes inside the satin of my bra and touches my bare flesh, his thumb stroking my nipple and sending an answering thrill all the way down to my sex. I arch my pelvis against him in response to his caress. He kisses me hard, and I can feel his erection against the flimsy fabric of my underwear. His mouth travels down, a
nd he kisses my flesh all the way down my neck, tantalisingly licking and gently nipping down to my breast. I push my breast up to meet his kisses, feeling myself getting wetter as he lingers, softly touching his lips and tongue on my body just a fraction of an inch away from my nipple, teasing me until at last he kisses me there, sending the most delicious sensation coursing all through me.

  He carries on kissing as his hand travels further south, stroking my thigh, and I hear myself moan in enjoyment. As his fingers caress the soft flesh of my inner thighs, I arch my hips up towards him, parting my legs further. He teases me, stroking progressively further and further up, and then I bite my lip as at last I feel him touch my clitoris again. He touches me through my knickers at the entrance to my sex, and then he pushes the fabric to one side to tease me with his fingers, feeling my wetness.

  “Oh, Justine,” he breathes, releasing my nipple and looking up into my eyes.

  I stifle a little moan as he slides his finger inside me, moving in and out, and I push against him, my breath shuddering as he makes me even more aroused. I reach my arms around his neck to pull him into another long, deep kiss, and he pulls back to look at me. “Adam,” I pant. “I want you inside me so much.”

  “I thought you did,” he replies, still touching me inside. Then he pulls his fingers out of me, and reaches for my bra. Moving the straps down, he moves the cups out of the way, exposing both of my breasts. Now, I am incredibly turned on. “You are so beautiful,” he tells me again, and then he tugs at the sides of my knickers, and pulls them down off me. I’m exposed to his gaze, and to his touch, all the private parts of my body completely bared to him now. I look down at his big hard erection and reach out to touch him there.

  “Oh, Adam, I really need you now,” I plead with him. He smiles and reaches for the bedside drawer, taking out a condom and rolling it down his long length.

  And then he’s on top of me again, kissing and touching, and at last I let out a small cry of triumph as I feel him enter me. It feels wonderful, and I cannot restrain my moans of pleasure as Adam moves in and out of me, his hand caressing one of my breasts, pleasuring my nipple. The sensation builds towards its apex, he’s thrusting hard into me now, and I move my hips forward to receive him as he builds my pleasure inexorably towards my climax. Then I cry out and push up to meet the hardest thrust yet, arching and filling with ecstasy as my orgasm explodes around Adam. And then he, too, finds his release, and he groans my name as he comes inside me.

  He stays inside me, on top of me, resting on his arms and looking down at my face, stroking my hair with one hand. I keep my arms around him, holding him tenderly. Then after a while he pulls out from inside me and lies on his back. I nestle my head on the warm skin of his chest and I feel safe and cherished. I feel I could stay lying like this with Adam forever.

  Except after a while I realise I can’t, as I’m thirsty and need the bathroom; so I offer to go and get Adam a drink, but he tells me he’ll do it. When I get out of the bathroom I hear him busying himself in the kitchen, and he brings both of us a mug of tea. I’m sat up in bed reading the back cover of a book by his bedside when he brings my hot drink. I’m still naked under the covers.

  “Perfect. Thanks, Adam.” I take a sip but it’s too hot, so I set it down on a coaster by the bedside. “Did you just make the tea naked?”

  “Yes, are you shocked?”

  “Just thought it sounded a bit dangerous. You know, if you spilt some boiling water.”

  “Don’t worry, I was careful,” he tells me, smiling and making that gorgeous dimple appear again. He climbs in next to me. “You know, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He leans over and kisses me lightly on the lips.

  “Really?” I am too surprised to give any other answer.

  “Yes, really,” he laughs. “Don’t look so amazed. I already know you have mirrors in your house, so you must know how gorgeous you are.”

  “I think you must be looking at me through rose-tinted glasses,” I insist. “I’m only me.” He shakes his head and smiles. “But thank you. It’s very nice to hear you say that.”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He picks up his mug and takes a sip of the steaming drink. “Hmm, I’ve heard of a post-coital cigarette, but I’ve never had a post-coital cup of tea before.”

  “Well, I thought you might like to be introduced to an exciting new experience in bed,” I quip.

  “That sounds an interesting thought,” he says, looking into my eyes, and I feel desire spread through my tummy again. I just raise my eyebrows, trying not to let him see how much a mere look from him affects me. He puts down his drink and turns to me, running a finger lightly down my shoulder. “You should tell me what you like in bed. I want to know exactly how to turn you on.”

  “You already do, Adam, believe me.”

  “That sounds like evading the question.”

  “You want to know what I like? What I fantasize about?”

  “Yes,” he answers, stroking a lock of hair away from my face and softly touching my cheek. “I want to know what goes on in that mind of yours.”

  “Well, it depends on what mood I’m in,” I tell him. “I like to be in charge sometimes, but other times I like to be told what to do.”

  “You like to be dominated?”

  I’m quiet for a moment, thinking of Michael. I still feel guilty for breaking things off with him just when things were going so well between us sexually. He just wasn’t prepared for me to leave him, not one little bit. But when he tied me up, hurt me – yes, it was incredibly arousing.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s interesting, because I rather enjoy being in charge.”

  “Really?” My heart leaps. Would Adam like to do the things that Michael did to me, the things I liked so much?

  “Yes, really,” he assures me, still gazing at me mesmerically. I can feel a hot blush spreading across my cheeks at the thought, and I look down, away from his eyes. “What else, Justine?” He puts his finger under my chin and tilts it up to fix my gaze again.

  “I kind of like a little bit of pain,” I confide, and I put my hand out to touch the hairs on his chest. His body is so beautiful, his muscles sculpted, his skin warm to my touch.

  “Just a little?”

  “Well, I’ve only tried a little,” I admit. “I’m turned on by the idea of being restrained. And hurt. But I don’t know how far I could push it. It’s not something I’ve got into very deeply.”

  “But would you like to try? With me?”

  I let my hand, toying with his chest, go further down and I stroke his skin down to his firm abs. “Yes, I’d like to try with you.” I softly circle his tummy with my fingers. “I’d like that a lot.”

  “So is that what you think about, when you fantasize?”

  “Yes, it often is. What a lot of questions you ask!”

  “I want to see inside your mind,” he tells me. “When you were recovering from the accident, I used to think of you every night. I used to wonder what it would be like to kiss you, touch you... fuck you. And I imagined what you would look like touching yourself. Making yourself come. I wondered what you thought about when you did that.”

  “You have a very dirty mind, Adam Benedict.”

  “I think you have too, Justine Gardiner.”

  “You might be right there,” I admit with a little grin.

  “So are you going to tell me?”

  “If you really want me to.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, since I met you... when I’m touching myself, I tend to think of you.”

  “That’s very nice to know,” he tells me, “but it’s really not enough detail.” He runs a finger down the length of my neck down to my collarbone, pauses, and then moves it slowly and deliberately down to the curve of my breast where the sheet is covering me. He pushes it down, exposing my body to his touch, and strokes my nipple, circling it and caressing the tip, sending shivers of pleasure down to my sex.
>
  “Okay... sometimes I’ve been thinking of when you first kissed me, and then after we went to bed together... I’ve been replaying it in my mind.”

  “You liked it?”

  “Mmm, I liked it. And sometimes I imagine you’re doing something else to me. Like tying me up.”

  “Really? And what do I do to you when I’ve tied you up?”

  “You fuck me. And you tell me that I’m not allowed to come. But then you make me come, and I can’t help it. So then you punish me.”

  “I rather like the sound of this,” he smiles. “I have to tell you, I’ve done this kind of thing before.”