Sweet as Sin

by Felix Baron

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, Penny! And you accuse me of having a dirty mind!’

  Penny gave her mother a wide-eyed look. ‘They have chicken, Rolf. Breast or thigh? Which do you fancy?’

  Trixie said, ‘Ignore her, Rolf. Don’t be fooled by her looks. She’s mainly innocent enough, but there’s a streak of depravity in that girl, just waiting to emerge.’

  Penny giggled. ‘Isn’t that what men want from us women, Mom? Depraved innocence?’

  Rolf grinned at Trixie. ‘I’ll settle for the “depraved” and leave the “innocence” for younger men to enjoy.’

  Penny dialled.

  Trixie looked up at the ceiling and squinted. ‘Oops! I see a spot you missed.’ She picked up the roller and lifted a foot onto the steps.

  Rolf reached out. ‘No, Trixie. Not in those heels, not after the champagne.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Three steps up, Trixie’s foot slipped from under her. She tumbled, into Rolf’s waiting arms. She grinned at him. ‘It looks like I’ve fallen for you, Rolf.’

  ‘Your ankle OK?’

  ‘It’s fine, but I could fake that it’s injured if it’d mean you’d carry me.’

  ‘Any time, injured or not.’

  Penny said, ‘I’ll see if I can find plates,’ and went to the kitchen.

  Trixie nibbled on Rolf’s earlobe. She whispered, ‘We’ve got unfinished business, Rolf.’

  He whispered back, ‘I remember.’

  ‘I wish . . .’

  Speaking loudly enough for Penny to hear in the kitchen, Rolf said, ‘Do you think you could spare Penny for the day, tomorrow, Trixie?’

  ‘I guess. Why?’

  ‘I know that Andrew is keen to show her the sights of New York. There’s a lot to see. Even a small start would take them all day. I could likely arrange seats for a show and dinner reservations, so they could be out from say, nine in the morning, right through till midnight.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘I’d hate to be alone for so long, Rolf, not knowing anyone in the City.’

  ‘You know me. I could come here with Andrew, at nine. You and I could find somewhere to go.’

  ‘I’ll be tired from today’s painting, Rolf. I’d love you to come and visit, but don’t expect me to be up to going out. We’d have to find some other way to amuse ourselves right here. Any ideas?’

  Rolf grinned. ‘I’ll think about that. Anything I should bring?’

  ‘I haven’t had time to shop yet, so if you’d like a drink tomorrow, you’d better bring the fixings.’

  Ten

  Rolf had a quart of Tanqueray Number Ten in his left hand and one of Beefeater in his right. Andrew carried half a pint of dry vermouth, a hamper and a corsage of white orchids.

  Penny opened the door in a clinging grey cashmere turtleneck sweater and a matching fully circular flirty little skirt. The orchids that Rolf had ordered, Bordeaux Cattleyas, covered the credenza behind her. She squealed and clapped her hands. ‘More orchids! For me, Andrew?’

  He put down the hamper and took her into his arms. As the youngsters embraced, Rolf elbowed into the kitchen. ‘Trixie?’

  ‘She’s sleeping in,’ Penny called from behind him.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘She said for you to wake her when you got here. If you don’t mind a suggestion, wake her with coffee.’

  ‘I can do that.’

  ‘Dad,’ Andrew said, ‘the limo driver’s waiting. Mind if we go?’

  ‘Go ahead. Have a good time.’

  Penny gave him a squeeze, picked up an overnight case, and left with Andrew. Rolf searched the kitchen and found a grinder and a French Press. He’d brought Blue Mountain beans. As the water heated, he put both bottles of gin in the freezer and unpacked a cold lunch from the hamper. Trixie’s toaster accommodated two bagels, which he smeared with cream cheese and chopped chives. Guessing, he put cream and raw brown sugar into Trixie’s coffee. A spray of orchids stolen from the hallway display completed the tray that he carried into the sanctum of her bedroom. The heavy drapes were drawn, leaving the room almost dark. Rolf’s fumbling found a sideboard to set the tray down on. He parted the drapes just enough to see by.

  Trixie gasped from her bed, ‘Coffee! You must be an angel. Please?’

  Rolf expected tousled hair and a sleep-creased face. Trixie, though blinking as if just woken, was bright-eyed and subtly made up, with gleaming and neat honey-coloured curls. He suppressed a grin. She was entitled to her artifice, especially if it lured him into her bedroom. Even the perfume in the air smelled fresh.

  ‘Sorry to wake you,’ he said, playing to her game.

  She looked at him over her coffee. ‘You’ll forgive me for greeting you like this?’

  ‘Forgive you for?’

  ‘I sleep in the nude.’

  ‘You’ll have to prove that.’

  ‘You’re bad, Rolf.’

  ‘Then I’m in good company.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘I really should put something on.’

  ‘Should I leave the room?’

  ‘No. Will you help me?’

  ‘With great pleasure.’

  ‘There should be a pair of stockings hanging over the foot of the bed.’

  ‘I see them.’

  She twisted to put her mug down on a nightstand but managed to do so without quite revealing a breast, to Rolf’s disappointment. He was mollified when she pulled her bedclothes to one side, baring one long lovely leg all the way up to her shapely hip.

  ‘Please?’ she said.

  ‘Please what?’

  ‘My stocking. Could you put it on for me?’

  Rolf’s mouth dried. He felt numb and thrilled at the same time. He’d never known a woman be so blatantly a temptress before. Trixie was so intensely female. She made him feel more manly than he had ever felt before, even on his wedding night with Rachel. Rachel had been sweet and lovely. Trixie was what the kids called ‘hot’. He’d never really understood that expression before.

  His fevered fingers rolled translucent black nylon into a little nest, the way he’d seen a woman do, once, somewhere. It’d likely been in a movie. Trixie pointed scarlet-tipped pink toes. He fitted them into the frothy stocking and unrolled it slowly, savouring every sensation – the slither of nylon between his fingers – the delicate structure of the bones in her foot – the complementary curves of her arch and instep.

  Her ankle was a miracle, sculpted by nature for fragile strength. The subtle flare of her calf felt so sensuous under his palms that it made his cock twitch.

  ‘You’ve done this before,’ Trixie accused.

  Rolf didn’t answer. He never had, but he couldn’t admit that, in sensuality, he was a neophyte compared to her. Her knee was smooth and dimpled. Its cap moved under the pressure of his fingertips, exposing her vulnerability.

  And then he came to her thigh.

  Smoothing nylon over that intimate loveliness was almost more than Rolf could bear. Her skin was soft and yielding but beneath it the long muscle was very strong and almost hard. When Trixie walked, it was this muscle that propelled her. If – when – they made love, it would be this muscle that lifted her hips to meet him. The strength that he held between his palms belied her weak vulnerability. In the throes of passion, Trixie would give thrust for thrust.

  Rolf adjusted the lacy top of Trixie’s stocking. Her thigh was quivering under his hands.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

  Her voice was husky. ‘The way you did that – it was so sensuous. I’ve never . . . Rolf, you are an incredible lover.’

  He grinned at her. ‘I haven’t made love to you yet.’

  ‘Yes you have. You just did.’

  Rolf leaned up the bed, to kiss her, but she stopped him with gentle fingers to his lips.

  ‘The other stocking, please?’

  ‘I don’t know if I can bear doing it again.’

  ‘Me neither. That’s what makes it so good, it being unbearably exciting. I’m desperate for you, Rol
f. Make me writhe with lust and then deny me and make it worse and worse and then – and then . . .’

  ‘And then what?’

  She gurgled deep in her throat. ‘And then fuck me, silly!’

  Rolf decided not to be offended by her crudity. It wasn’t as if she’d sworn in casual conversation. She’d used the word in context, not as an expletive. To show that he wasn’t offended, he said, ‘“Fuck you silly”, or “fuck you, silly”?’

  ‘Either or both, just so you tease me till I beg for it, first.’

  ‘You think I have that much self-control?’

  ‘I’ll give it to you.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Put that other stocking on me and then I’ll show you.’ She pulled her nylon-sheathed leg back under the covers, rolled onto her tummy and thrust her other leg out for him to attend to.

  This time her leg was knee-down. The delights were different. Instead of a dimpled knee to play with, he had the back of one, soft and very vulnerable, which he kissed and licked before covering with nylon. Trixie seemed to like that. His lick made her quiver and brought a soft moan to her lips. Caressing the back of her thigh was different from caressing its front, but equally exciting. Rolf thought of letting his fingers keep travelling up her leg, to the intimate places he’d been fondling and kissing in his imagination ever since that evening in the ballroom when he’d first met her.

  Before he decided, Trixie whispered, ‘Remember where we were, when we were interrupted? Come stand up here. Make a bridge over me the way you did then. Hold onto the head of my bed with one hand.’

  Rolf wasn’t the least ashamed to present the long bulge in his pants for Trixie’s inspection. He would have been, he thought, with any other woman. She’d taught him something about candid lust.

  Trixie’s fingertips traced his cock’s length through the cloth that restrained it, from his balls to its crown. Her hand reversed. Her nails trailed back down his column, scratching him gently through the cloth.

  ‘How much of that treatment do you think I’ll be able to take?’ he asked, proud of his own boldness.

  ‘Trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing.’ She pulled on the tab of his zipper. Trixie had to lift herself on one elbow to slide her hand into his fly. The bedclothes fell back from one lush breast. He reached down to touch it.

  ‘No!’ Trixie said. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be sharp. I do want your fingers there, but not yet, not now.’ She looked up into his face with pleading eyes. ‘Can you just do as I ask and no more, for a while, just a little while?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then take hold of my hair. Don’t worry about hurting me. I like to have my hair pulled.’ Her eyes twinkled at him. ‘Is that kinky?’

  ‘Kinky?’

  ‘I think it is. I’m a bad girl, Rolf. Do you like bad girls?’

  ‘I like this one.’

  ‘Tell me if I ever do anything to really shock you, so I’ll know to do it again.’ Her fingers found his naked shaft and manoeuvred it into the open before they worked back into his pants to lift his balls out and let them hang. ‘You have very big balls,’ she said.

  ‘Is that good?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Her palm cupped his scrotum and lifted. ‘So heavy! Are they full of hot cream, Rolf? Have you been saving it? Is it all for me?’

  Rolf cleared his throat. It was the only sound he was capable of making. He’d never dreamt a woman could talk like that, nor realised how much it would excite him.

  ‘Hair,’ she reminded him.

  Rolf took a strong grip.

  ‘It’s so you can steer me. You’ll know better than me when your climax is coming. When it is, I want you to control my head to make sure you come in my mouth, right on my tongue, please.’

  Rolf’s sphincter tightened. A tingle ran up his spine. Trixie asked flat-out, for things most women he’d known couldn’t be persuaded to do. He felt he was teetering on the edge of a bottomless pit of depraved desires. He had a choice. He could flee, right then, or he could let himself tumble and be lost, wallowing in oozing depravity, forever.

  Mentally, he shrugged. If the options were cold virtue or hot debauchery, he’d had his fill of the former. It was past time he tried the latter. His fist tightened in Trixie’s hair.

  ‘Yes, like that!’ She planted a kiss on the eye of his cock’s head. ‘I adore your cock, Rolf!’

  The fingers that supported his balls stroked and tickled his scrotum. The fingers of Trixie’s other hand ran lightly up his shaft with a touch so delicate that Rolf wasn’t sure he felt it. He was sure that he could feel her warm breath on his cock’s head.

  Trixie adjusted her position, rising a little. The bedclothes fell to her narrow waist. Rolf gazed down, his eyes feasting on this enchanting woman’s lovely body and the deliciously obscene spectacle of her sweet face, in rapt adoration of his cock.

  An incredible rush of power filled him.

  Her stroking fingers applied more pressure. Even as she caressed him, Trixie inspected him. She moved his shaft from side to side, lifted it and depressed it, examining it from every angle as if she was memorising each ridge, each vein, every nuance of skin tone.

  A bead of clear fluid emerged from his cock’s eye. Trixie glanced up into his eyes. Her tongue flicked out, scooping the droplet into her mouth. She gave him a gleeful grin and announced, ‘Hors d’oeuvres.’

  Her fingers stopped stroking. They tightened into a fist around his shaft. Trixie jerked down towards his balls, then up towards his cock’s head. Her face became fierce. ‘I want your cream,’ she demanded as she yanked on him. ‘I want it hot, thick, filling my mouth. I want to swallow your seed, Rolf. Fuck, I want it all over me, inside me and out. I want you to come on my breasts, on my face, on my belly, in my hands, everywhere. Cover me with your come, coat me with it, Rolf, please?’

  She was so powerfully passionate it was almost frightening. Rolf managed, ‘I don’t know that I can do all that in one go, Trixie.’

  She laughed from deep in her throat. ‘Then you must come often, and keep coming and coming until there isn’t a single inch of my skin that hasn’t been bathed in “essence of Rolf”.’

  She was so much fun, and that didn’t distract from his lust at all. If anything, it increased it. Making love to her was gleeful but incredibly intense.

  Her slow jerking on his cock was stoking his lust to unbearable heights. Something cruel rose up in him. Deliberately letting it hurt her, he dragged her head by her hair, tugging her mouth to his cock’s head.

  Trixie gasped, ‘Yes,’ before her lips touched his glistening dome and opened wide to take it into her warm wet mouth.

  His pull on her hair forced his cock only just deep enough that its head passed her lips, but they continued on, to slither down the length of his shaft. Her tongue pushed up, pressing his glans against the roof of her mouth. And she still descended. He felt his bulb lodge at the very back of her mouth, at her throat, and wondered that she didn’t gag on it.

  And she nodded, hard, driving him into her throat with a gulping, clicking, wet sound like none he’d ever heard before but knew he’d remember for the rest of his life.

  Rolf froze. Trixie’s throat worked on him and then she slowly withdrew, sucking on his cock as she pulled back and off it.

  ‘Trixie . . .’ he began.

  Her fingers clamped around his shaft. ‘Don’t talk. Feel!’ She pumped in earnest, no longer teasing, just urging him. Her other hand stroked and tugged on his balls, almost milking. Her mouth was close enough that as her hand moved his cock, its head slapped on the flat of her tongue. Trixie glared up into his eyes, her look insisting that he climax.

  And he did. And it was glorious.

  The release gushed up through his shaft, so forcefully that he felt as if its passing thickened him. It flooded out from him in a spurt that jetted clean into the depths of her mouth. The second gush was less powerful and flopped onto her waiting tongue. Trixie grinned and swallowed. Her fist kept w
orking as she reared up and directed his cock at her breast, which received his third and final squirt. The flat of her tongue smoothed over his cock’s head. Rolf shuddered.

  ‘That’s a start,’ she said. Trixie massaged his jism into the alabaster skin of her breast. ‘That’s my right tit done. Maybe you’ll come on my left, next.’

  Rolf panted, ‘Not right now.’

  ‘Of course not. Well, I promised you I’d make you capable of teasing me without getting carried away, didn’t I?’

  Rolf was drained of all lust, but a gentleman never left a lady wanting. ‘I’m ready,’ he said.

  ‘Not yet, silly. We have all day. You get undressed and take a nice nap. I’m going to shower and be all fresh for you when you wake up. Then you can take your time driving me slowly out of my mind with desire, OK?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Rolf agreed.

  Eleven

  When Penny saw the white stretch Cadillac limousine she squealed in glee and pirouetted, knowing full well that doing so lifted her skirt to the tops of her thighs. When a boy does something right, like picking a girl up for a date in a luxurious limo, he should be suitably rewarded.

  Andrew popped the trunk and put her case into it. ‘What’s the luggage for?’

  ‘Your Dad said we’d be going to dinner and to the theatre later? I’ll have to change for those.’

  ‘Oh.’ He opened the car’s rear door for her.

  Penny climbed in, giving him another quick flash of her thighs, and squealed again. ‘Oh my God! It’s enormous in here! It’s like a travelling room or something!’ She sat and stretched her legs straight out but her toes didn’t quite reach the seat opposite.

  He followed her in, grinning. ‘You’ve been in a limo before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Honestly, no, not a stretch one, anyway. You don’t see a lot of them, back in Ridge River.’

  Andrew clunked the door closed and turned to help Penny with her seat-belt. That put his arm across her and that brought their faces close and that led to him kissing her, tentatively at first but with growing passion.

  Penny broke the clinch, gently.

  ‘I’d forgotten how good you taste,’ he said.