“May I please suck your cock, Manuel?” I tried again in a matter-of-fact tone, gazing in the general direction of his face while still avoiding his eyes.
“No,” he replied.
I was so surprised that I finally met his eyes, terrified I might start to cry I was so disappointed.
“Ask me again. Properly.”
This time I didn’t look away from him even though I felt as if he was staring straight into my soul. “Manuel, may I please…” I spoke softly and respectfully. “May I please suck your cock, Manuel…please?”
“Yes, Ariana, you may.” He was already unbuttoning his pants. “I want her naked,” he said shortly.
John smoothed down my skirt, unzipped it and pulled it down my legs, where it joined my panties. Then I felt him move away from me.
I was left alone to carefully step out of my clothes, obliged to bend over in order to do so.
I nearly lost my balance when my lover spanked me again. “You know better than to take your high heels off,” he warned.
“I wasn’t going to, sir.” I straightened just in time to watch Manuel wrest his cock out of his tight pants. His shirt was hanging open, exposing a thin cross of black hair connecting his nipples to his navel that I immediately longed to trace with my tongue. He was still fully dressed and the sight of him thrilled me. He looked so dangerously sexy I had no desire to see him naked, at least not yet.
Holding his kingly erection in one hand like a scepter, he took a few steps back and then sank to his knees with elegant ease. “Crawl over to me,” he commanded.
I found myself a more than willing subject as I crouched down and humbly, hungrily, approached him on all fours, scarcely noticing how hard the floor was beneath my knees. All I was aware of, all I cared about was his cock and how hard it was for me. I flung my hair back out of my eyes so as not to lose sight of my prize, feeling like a cat heading for a dream bowl of cream. And even though John remained silent I distinctly sensed his approval, the voyeuristic pleasure he was taking a subliminal yet powerfully arousing caress against my skin.
When I reached him Manuel roughly grabbed a handful of my hair and slowly filled my mouth with his erection, kindly allowing me to fully savor the flavor of another man. His cock was different from John’s and Eric’s, longer and curved slightly upward like a bow that mysteriously hit the bull’s eye as my pussy gushed with the need to experience it. He threaded the fingers of both hands firmly through my hair and groaned as the head of his cock nudged the inside of my throat.
It wasn’t just a matter of pride to take his entire erection into my mouth. Everything about him inspired me to exercise all my powers to please him. Supporting myself on one hand, I used my other hand to pump him lightly. At the same time I slipped my lips tightly up and down his full length while all the time swirling my tongue around his head. I became totally absorbed in the exercise, part of me feeling like a little girl relishing a second, deliciously forbidden ice cream cone.
Then suddenly John gripped my hips possessively from behind and Manuel tightened his hold on my hair. He forced me to keep sucking him even as my concentration suffered, as I worried that my lover was planning to fuck my ass now for the first time. It was already a strain kneeling on the wooden floor. I wasn’t sure I could handle more discomfort no matter how excruciatingly enjoyable…
Sheer relief made the sensation of John’s cock thrusting into my pussy feel even better than it normally did.
I lost all sense of time as I willingly surrendered to the exquisite ordeal of sucking one man’s cock while another man’s cock fucked me hard and fast from behind. I could feel how much I was pleasing them both as their cocks got even thicker and harder and the intensity of the fulfillment I suffered caught between them was incredible. My senses had never processed such an overwhelming blend of sensations. It was my first double penetration and I further thrilled myself with the thought that there were many more to come for me in the future.
“No,” I heard John say.
Manuel slipped his cock out of my mouth.
I suspected my lover had just denied the other man permission to come in my mouth, a theory that seemed validated when they suddenly switched places.
I was happy as a baby being born into a whole new world when John’s beloved erection filled my mouth. His distinct texture and taste were slightly masked by the scent and flavor of my pussy juices and I passionately set about cleaning myself off him so I could fully enjoy his uniquely delicious semen. I braced myself on both hands, desperately craving Manuel’s penetration. I was dying to feel his cock slipping and curving all the way up inside me, so much so that I moaned in frustration as my sex remained disappointingly empty.
“Touch yourself,” John commanded.
My left arm was tired from supporting my full weight but I willingly reached down with my right hand to obey him.
He pulled his cock out of my mouth. “Beg Manuel to fuck your ass, Ariana.”
I tossed the hair out of my eyes and glanced up at him, totally stunned. I found it impossible to believe that he would allow another man to fuck my ass before he enjoyed it himself.
Manuel spanked me, his hard open hand delivering a powerful stinging blow.
I caught my breath and silently absorbed the blossoming burn. The pain was so vivid my perceptions mysteriously flipped like a coin as I found myself longing for more of the terrible pleasure.
“I want you to fuck my ass, please, Manuel.” I hung my head as if in shame but really to rest my neck a moment. “I want you to come in my ass, Manuel,” I added without intending to, and I certainly didn’t mean to beg faintly, “Please come in my ass!”
His response was to spread my cheeks open with both hands as John leaned over me. I guessed—I hoped—he was handing the other man some form of lubrication. It occurred to me then that my lover had planned this whole evening. This had all been carefully choreographed and the realization turned me on even more by completely relaxing me that one last vital degree.
Body and soul I was more aroused than I had ever been in my life but my sphincter still felt impossibly small and totally reluctant to be opened up. I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut as I concentrated on relaxing myself.
“I told you touch yourself, Ariana,” John reminded me and gagged me with his cock again as Manuel forced the slickly lubricated head of his erection into my anus and slowly pushed it in deeper. Experience had taught me this was the worst part and I moaned passionately, wordlessly begging him to stop taking his time, knowing it would only hurt more that way.
He either understood what I wanted or more likely knew what he was doing because he got a firm grip on my hips and lodged his erection all the way inside my ass with a determined thrust.
One man driving his cock into my bowels as another man’s cock swelled and pulsed against my tongue felt so unbelievably good I barely needed to touch myself to start coming. I understood then why the French call orgasm la petite morte. I climaxed with such force it was like dying as I seemed to dissolve into a blinding ecstasy created by my body which my flesh felt barely able to contain. I was only vaguely conscious of swallowing my lover’s cum and of Manuel’s explosive ejaculation deep in my bowels.
My orgasm finally ebbed but its magical warmth lingered in my blood for a long time. I felt so fulfilled and relaxed I was exhausted. Nevertheless I found the strength and grace to pick myself up off the floor and obey John when he commanded me to clean Manuel off.
The studio was silent except for the ticking of my heels as I walked over to the shelf where my lover kept his supplies. In a blissful daze I wetted a white terrycloth towel and selected another small dry one. Then I returned to where Manuel stood beside John. I didn’t need to be told to kneel before him and to rub his softening cock with the wet cloth before gently rubbing it dry with the other.
He stroked my hair, caressing it away from my face with both hands. “Thank you, Ariana.”
“Leave them,” John said to me
and I gladly abandoned the soiled towels as he helped me to my feet. He allowed me to slip my arms around his neck and rest my head against his chest for a moment before he turned me around to lean back against him while facing the other man.
“She’s absolutely beautiful,” Manuel stated firmly as he buttoned his pants closed.
“She is.”
“I’m having a little gathering of wealthy art lovers.” He began buttoning his shirt. “I’ve told them about the new exhibit soon to grace my gallery and they’re all eager to meet you. But I trust you will both come Saturday night?”
“Ariana, would you like to go to Manuel’s party Saturday night?”
“Oh yes!”
Manuel grinned at me in that feral way that had turned me on so much and still did. “May I?” He raised an eyebrow at John.
“You may,” John replied.
Manuel cupped my face lightly in both his hands and bent over to kiss me gently on the mouth. Then his lips brushed my temple as he whispered in my ear, “I’ll be seeing you!”
Chapter Eleven
I lay awake for hours reliving what had happened. I still couldn’t quite believe it. Only the fact that my ass was still a little sore convinced me I hadn’t imagined it all.
John had told me he loved me and shared me with another man all on the same night. And that wasn’t all. He had also made me promise that I would do whatever he said and that I would never keep anything from him. He had made me promise I would tell him everything…
In light of the evening’s events I actually dared consider the possibility that he wouldn’t be too upset if I told him about Eric. And yet I knew he would be because I had been fucking Eric behind his back.
The next day was intolerably hot outside and there was nowhere I needed to go so I stayed home and faced what I had been avoiding—my laptop and all the e-mails I knew would be crowding my inbox. Glad for the distraction, I set the computer out on the coffee table in the living room where I could sit barefoot and cross-legged on the carpet. I was wearing an old gray tank top and shorts that were dangerously close to disintegrating in the next wash but they were my favorite house clothes and they helped me feel more like my normal self and less like the submissive cock-worshipping sex slave I had turned into last night.
I made an effort to concentrate but my mind and feelings were all over the place, caught in a storm of dangerously exciting possibilities. My fantasies kept getting wilder and hotter until I was completely lost in them, my laptop forgotten. I was swept away by a powerful riptide of secret desires. Yet when my wild erotic daydreams made me feel as if I was drowning in a meaningless sea of flesh, the memory of John’s eyes and the loving way they gazed into mine helped keep my head above the flood of my imagination. I never lost sight of the real solid ground of our feelings for each other. He had made it clear there were no artificial limits to the experiences we could explore together and that was the whole point—we were together. Our love was the magical ship on which I could sail toward more exciting erotic adventures, confident he would never steer us in the wrong direction or go too far.
I had just closed my laptop when I heard the sound of a car out in the driveway.
I got up to open the door and smiled at Ernesto as he strode up the walkway carrying one of Mami’s designer Italian suitcases.
“Hola, Ari!” he greeted me with his characteristic cheerfulness. “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’ve never been better,” I replied a little smugly, moving aside so he could walk in and put down the heavy bag. “Mami, you got a tan!” I exclaimed. The delicate way the pale skin of her cheeks and nose had burned made her look ten years younger and that was saying a lot since she already looked great for her age.
“Ay, por Dios!” she scoffed. “I got burned is what I got.”
I smiled at her indulgently as we hugged and kissed. “Did you have a nice time anyway, I hope?”
“It was wonderful,” she admitted with a secret little smile and said no more.
Ernesto and I glanced at each other in astonishment. The only time Rosa ever said something was wonderful without adding a qualifying string of dissatisfied “buts” was after returning from one of her countless trips to Italy. It was such a special moment that I decided not to wait to make my grand announcement. “I’m moving back down to Miami,” I declared.
Ernesto grinned, his chocolate-brown eyes widening in happy anticipation of my mother’s ecstatic reaction.
She closed the door behind her before turning back to face me and asking, very calmly, “What did you just say?”
“I said I’m moving back down to Miami.”
She blinked at me a few times before glancing at Ernesto but he was no help. He just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, savoring her reaction. “Would the handsome Italian sculptor we had over for dinner have something to do with this sudden decision of yours, Ari? Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to…to make such an important decision?” She was making a painful effort not to let her selfish excitement override her maternal responsibilities.
“Oh Mami, stop it!” I impatiently put her out of her misery. “You know it’s not too soon. You met him. You felt us together. I really love him and he feels the same way about me.”
“Ay, Ari!” She handed the grinning Ernesto her Italian leather purse and hugged me with as much strength as she possessed. “I’m so happy! Wait until I tell your grandfather! Wait until I tell Claudio and Lourdes and…” The list went on and on but at least—respectful of my fiercely independent spirit and bad temper when I’m pressured into doing anything—she carefully refrained from calling any of them “guests” or even going near the word “wedding”. But I knew my mother—she wasn’t about to settle for one blessing when she could have another. I sighed to think what I was getting myself into by returning to the familial fold as Ernesto winked at me sympathetically.
* * * * *
John called me at around noon to tell me all was going well and to ask me to meet him at his place at seven o’clock that evening.
I found his building without any problems and I eagerly climbed the steps up to the top floor.
I knocked politely on the door and stood restlessly on the landing, anxious for some response from within. “Come in!” he called at last.
I paused on the threshold in awe. The bay windows faced west and the sunset’s golden light was bathing the forest of black statues. Luminous shafts thrust between the sensually entranced figures so I almost felt they were about to be released from their spell. Then I saw my own flesh and blood lover sitting at a small black wrought iron table he had placed next to the central window overlooking the treetops. There was a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes on the table before him.
I walked over and took my place in the empty iron chair across from his, setting my purse on the floor.
“Good evening, Ariana.” His smile struck me as triumphant and possessive and everything I had ever dreamed of a man’s smile looking like.
“Good evening, John. This is a cute little table. Where did you get it?”
“It was out on the back porch when I moved in. The chairs aren’t very comfortable but I wanted us to have a view of the sunset while we toasted our future together.”
Sweet words indeed. “It’s all totally lovely.”
“I don’t normally drink thirty-dollar bottles of champagne,” he said, picking up the bottle and placing it between his thighs, an enviable position, “for the simple reason that I’ve discovered quite a few equally excellent bottles for under ten dollars but this was a special occasion.”
The cork popped up and hit the ceiling with a sound like a gunshot. He raised his glass.
I quickly followed suit.
“To us,” he said firmly.
“To us,” I echoed and took a hearty swallow.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s delicious.”
“I spoke to my landlord today, Ariana.”
&
nbsp; My heart sped up. “You did?”
“Would you like to hear what he said?”
“John!” I hated it when he teased me like that but I loved it too.
He laughed. “I told him about you and about my upcoming show and made him realize it would only benefit him in the end if he let me fix up the place.”
“What do you mean fix up the place?”
“Well,” he said and sipped his champagne with maddening calm, “if my show goes well, it will free up a lot of space in here and in the future I can arrange to have my completed pieces stored elsewhere.”
“Oh but I love this little forest of statues,” I declared, already missing them as I remembered how unbelievably naughty they had inspired me to be lately.
“That’s very sweet of you.” He reached across the table and caressed the hair out of my eye. “But we need to make room for us in here now.”
I couldn’t argue with that so I remained happily silent waiting for him to elaborate.
“The first thing I plan to do is expand and completely remodel the kitchen. You’ll be in charge of selecting the new appliances. Once I’ve determined how big it can be we can sit down and design it together.”
I set my glass down. “It would cost a fortune to hire someone to gut and rebuild the kitchen—contractors are notorious for—”
“Ariana, you weren’t listening carefully. I’ll be doing the construction work and our gracious landlord is splitting the cost of the materials with us. As for whatever appliances you choose, he’s paying for them in full since they’ll stay here when we move out in the future, at which point he’ll be able to charge an exorbitant amount of rent for this place.”
“You’ll be doing the construction work?” I couldn’t believe it. I had never met a man who could actually build or fix anything himself even though I knew such creatures existed in theory.
“Why do you look so astonished, Ariana?”
“Because I…um, because I…”
Faith in the Flesh Page 12
