Sweet as Sin

by Felix Baron

  ‘As if we were made for each other.’

  ‘I might wriggle, when you get me worked up.’

  ‘I hope you do.’ He nudged her with his cock.

  Trixie giggled. ‘I’m ready.’

  Rolf lifted the index finger of his right hand to her lips. Trixie sucked on it and made saliva to wet it. He returned it to her breast, found the difference in texture between her areola and the skin surrounding it, and began to circle its rim, very lightly, very slowly.

  ‘Cruel beast!’ Her calves moved on his shins.

  ‘True.’ He returned the finger to her mouth for more spit and continued his torment but slowly spiralling in towards the jut of her nipple. His late wife had never been adventurous in bed but she’d adored having her breasts played with. Over the years of their marriage, he’d become quite adept.

  Trixie was breathing more heavily, he thought, and she made tiny movements in his arms. He wasn’t sure, but she might have been making soft noises with her mouth.

  Trixie said, ‘Mm.’

  He rewarded her by wetting his finger again and smoothing its ball on the very peak of her nipple.

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘Are you begging?’

  ‘Enduring.’

  He gave her nape a long lick and let his teeth close gently on the muscle at the side of her neck, where it joined her shoulder. She definitely shivered.

  His right hand deserted her right breast to pull the sheet up over her left one. It was time for his left hand to play. His fingers located her nipple through the fine cotton but applied no pressure. With the utmost delicacy, he scratched her nipple’s tip.

  Trixie moaned and arched. ‘I don’t know how much of that I can stand!’

  ‘We’ll have to find out, won’t we?’

  ‘Sadist!’

  ‘Masochist.’

  ‘Harder, please?’ There was a whine in her voice.

  ‘Not till you beg.’

  ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I’m begging.’

  Rolf made pincers with the thumbs and index fingers of both hands. Each took a sheet-covered nipple gently by its base and scratched it slowly, from flared base to round-pointed tip.

  ‘That’s even worse, you bastard!’

  ‘Really?’ He repeated his action.

  She writhed against his lap, growing frantic. ‘You know what I want! Please, Rolf! Please? I’m begging, damn you!’

  Simultaneously, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, pinched hard, and rolled her nipples. Trixie yelped. For a moment he thought he might have misinterpreted her needs but her bottom thrust back at him and she hissed a long, ecstatic, ‘Yesssss!’

  His fingers increased their pressure. Trixie jerked and juddered and sobbed. Her feet hooked behind his calves as she hitched forward and down, splaying the inner lips of her wet sex on the hardness of his thigh. His arms pushed her down and his leg pressed up. His fingers were unrelenting. She ground and ground and ground against his leg, making desperate little mewing sounds until she let out a great gasp and a shiver, and slumped.

  Rolf let Trixie rest, panting, in his arms.

  Eventually, she murmured, ‘It’s been a long time, Rolf.’

  ‘Don’t you – er – do it yourself?’

  ‘Of course, but it’s not the same.’

  ‘I know.’

  She wriggled in his lap. ‘We don’t have to do it for ourselves any more, do we Rolf?’

  ‘No. Not any more, not now we have each other.’

  ‘Unless we do it to each other, or with each other, watching each other.’

  The idea of it clenched Rolf’s gut. All his life, his masturbation had been his dirty little secret, always denied, never shared. Now this intoxicating woman was suggesting they do it together, watching each other. If they did, they’d be revealing themselves in a way he’d never even considered.

  Her hand reached back to hold his shaft. She shifted up the bed and guided his dome towards her sopping sex.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said. Rolf had only performed cunnilingus twice in his entire life. Once had been on a skinny girl in college, at a party, in a closet that smelled of wet wool and rubber boots. He’d never known her name. The second time had been with his wife, Rachel, on their tenth anniversary, when she’d got tipsier than usual. She’d never let him do it again, perhaps because she feared he’d expect her to reciprocate on a regular basis, not just as special and rare treats. All those years, he’d wanted to please a woman with his tongue. Now, at last, he was in bed with one who he was absolutely certain wouldn’t object.

  Rolf moved back away from Trixie and tossed the bedclothes aside. Rachel would have snatched them back to cover her nakedness. Trixie just rolled onto her back, hands linked behind her head, thighs spread wide, proudly naked, and asked him, ‘What did you have in mind, Lover?’

  ‘This.’ He reared over her, propped on arms that bracketed her lovely body. Rolf’s head dipped to bring his mouth to hers. She, surrendering, didn’t wrap her arms around him, as another woman might have. She left her hands under her head, letting him know that she was his toy.

  He nibbled her lips, delved into her mouth, sucked saliva from under her tongue. She kissed him back but the only parts of her that moved were her lips and tongue. His mouth grazed from the corner of her mouth, across her cheek, down the side of her neck and over the swell of her milk-skinned left breast. Rolf’s lips and tongue nibbled and licked at her stiff nipple, no teeth, in case she was still tender from his earlier cruelty.

  From left nipple, back to her mouth, trailing down once more to her right one. His hand cupped her sex. One finger curled, parting and entering her. Trixie moved, just a fraction, lifting herself to him.

  His tongue’s tip traced the lines of her ribcage. He inched lower. When his tongue explored her navel, Trixie trembled. He smoothed his cheek against the bulge of her mound, brushing his skin with the soft golden triangle of her pelt. Trixie held her breath. Her thighs strained further apart. Her hips tilted. Her voice wasn’t begging him but her body was.

  Rolf made tight little circles with the finger that was inside her, dabbling in her wetness. He slid down even further, to rest his face on the firm smoothness of the inside of her thigh.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do that?’ Trixie asked, with a tremor in her voice.

  ‘Very sure.’

  ‘My late husband – he didn’t like to . . .’

  Rolf thought, ‘What a fool,’ but he said, ‘I do.’

  He inhaled, sucking in her fragrance. There was a hint of the perfume she was wearing, something with mimosa, he thought, and under that, her own wet scent, sweet and heady, newly-mown dewy grass, with traces of bonfire smoke and of the decadent aroma that a white truffle releases if you break it between your fingers.

  Her right kneecap was beneath his left hand. He caressed it, enjoying the glossy hardness under raspy nylon. He withdrew his right index finger from inside her and sucked her nectar from it.

  ‘How do I taste?’ she asked lightly but with an underlying concern.

  ‘Delicious.’ His finger dipped into her once more and then lifted up to her lips. ‘Try some.’ He wasn’t sure how she’d react to being invited to sample her own juices but took perverse pleasure in testing the depths of her depravity.

  She sucked with relish and declared, ‘Nice, very nice, but I still prefer your come, Rolf. It’s fuller-bodied.’

  No clever response came to him so he let his tongue run the length of her sex’s right lip from bottom to top.

  Trixie gasped, ‘Oh God!’

  He trilled the tip of his tongue in the slit between her lips.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

  Rolf’s tongue probed, moving from side to side, parting her. He lifted his head and gazed down, down into the livid wet pink gash between her swollen purple-tinged lips. Two fingers spread her, exposing the delicious intricacies inside her sex. Rolf’s mouth watered. Once again testing Trixie’s de
pravity, he spat into her. She gasped, in a way he thought indicated pleasure. Maybe he’d impressed her with his inventiveness?

  Rolf watched in fascination as his spittle ran and mingled with her own wetness, in her depths.

  Trixie moaned, ‘Touch me.’

  His mouth descended, pressing its lips to the lips of her sex and spreading them wider. Pressing down hard to work his mouth as deeply into her as he could, he extended his tongue and lapped, left and right, up and down, savouring her juices.

  Trixie made a soft mewing noise and pushed up at him. Now, her hands left her head and came down to bury their fingers in his hair. Rolf’s face moved from side to side, extending the range of his tongue’s explorations. When it delved into the delicate cup at the base of Trixie’s slot, his nose was enveloped by her lips. Every breath he took was redolent with her essence.

  He flattened his tongue and drew it up the full length of her slit, up over the smooth hardness of her pubic bone. His lips found the delicacy they sought, the tiny pink pea of her clitoris, and gripped it. Trixie gasped and froze. Rolf waited for a teasing count of ten before he gave the sensitive nub a forceful lick.

  She gasped, ‘Yes!’

  Encouraged, Rolf worked two fingers up inside her, behind her bone, and fumbled for the area he’d read about but had never had the opportunity to find. As he’d learned, it was round and puffy and slick and felt as if covered in tiny bumps. He palpitated it in an urgent rhythm and matched the pace with flicks on her clitoris with his tongue.

  Trixie gasped, ‘Lover!’ Her thighs strained apart. One of her hands deserted his head. His eyes rolled upwards to peer over the slight swell of her heaving belly. She was pinching and twisting one nipple, then the other, then back, with vicious urgency. Rolf made a mental note.

  Her breath came faster, and faster. Rolf’s tongue and fingers quickened their pace. She rose up in a taut bow, onto shoulders and heels, lifting half of Rolf’s considerable weight with her. Her internal muscles contracted on his fingers. The noises that bubbled from her throat weren’t words but they didn’t have to be for him to understand her.

  With an enormous effort of will, Rolf stopped.

  ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard! Fucking, fucking bastard! Do me, fuck you! Let me come!’

  He waited.

  Trixie babbled, ‘I’m sorry, Rolf, dear sweet wonderful Rolf. Please, please, pretty please? I’ll do anything you like, just let me come. I’ll be your slave. Anyway you want me, anything you want me to do, anything you want to do to me, anything, just do more of those wonderful things you were doing and let me come, please?’

  Relenting, he licked again, and rubbed again, harder and faster, urging her. His free hand left her knee and reached up to a breast to pinch and tug at a throbbing nipple, knowing he hurt her and knowing that the pain was lancing to her clitoris in spears of exquisite pleasure.

  Her thighs twisted under him. Her calves folded inwards. Her stockinged heels drummed on his shoulder blades. The fingers and thumb of his right hand closed into his palm. When he felt her insides begin to contract once again, he pushed and screwed, filling her sex with his fingers as deep as their second knuckles.

  Trixie screamed. Perhaps he’d misjudged her needs and had really hurt her? But no, her muscles clamped on his hand, almost crushing it, and suddenly his fingers were bathed in a hot flood.

  She slumped, legs flung wide. Rolf carefully worked his hand from her clinging flesh and planted a gentle kiss on her sex’s lips. She twitched, from head to toe, and groaned.

  ‘Not yet,’ she begged. ‘You totally destroyed me, you wonderful man. Nobody, nobody, has ever fucked me like that before. That was incredible, Lover.’

  Rolf lifted his head. ‘I haven’t fucked you, yet.’

  ‘Yes you have, just not with your cock. I’d like that now, if you don’t mind, Lover? Your hard cock – my soft wet pussy – they’re made for each other, aren’t they?’

  ‘We’ll just have to find out, Trixie. Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes, darling. I’m ready for you now.’

  He lifted himself up the bed and over her, on elbows and knees. ‘Look into my eyes,’ he said. Holding her gaze, he lowered his hips. Her fingers wrapped his shaft and drew it towards the heat and wet and softness between her thighs.

  ‘Carefully at first, please?’ she asked him. ‘After all, you are rather big.’

  Three hours later, they shared a shower and the pleasure he took from soaping her body was gentle and affectionate. There was no lust left in him, not even when she lathered his cock. Trixie had sandwiches from the delicatessen in her fridge. In robes, they ate companionably. He sipped a martini. She drank three. After, they dressed and chatted and flirted and she had another martini. Rolf was just beginning to feel he might be persuaded back into Trixie’s bed when a chime sounded.

  Trixie checked a clock. ‘That’s Penny already,’ she said. ‘She has a key but I asked her to buzz up, to warn us.’

  ‘She’s a good girl,’ he said.

  ‘Yes she is, thanks. She’s very fond of you, you know.’

  ‘But fonder of my son.’

  Trixie didn’t respond to that.

  Thirteen

  At nine the next morning, Andrew wanted to phone Penny. Rolf explained that it wasn’t polite to make social phone calls before ten, and if a man has kept a woman out till midnight, not until after lunch. Andrew decided that twelve-thirty was close enough to ‘after lunch’. All he got was Trixie’s machine.

  Rolf tried the number at two and four. Andrew had used up one and three. By six, each man was wondering if he’d done or said something to offend his lady but neither father nor son confided that to the other.

  At seven, Rolf phoned out for a pizza. He and Andrew had just pushed the empty box aside and opened their second beer each when the phone rang. Andrew beat Rolf to it.

  ‘It’s for you, Dad.’ He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and stage-whispered, ‘It’s her.’

  Rolf took the phone. ‘Trixie?’

  ‘Hi, Lover. Got your messages.’

  Rolf wanted to ask where she and Penny had been all day but that would have sounded both needy and possessive, so he just waited.

  She continued, ‘You drained me yesterday, Stud. I turned the phone’s ringer off so I could sleep in some and recover, and I didn’t wake up till after noon. Then, of course, I didn’t think to turn the phone back on till just now, when Penny wondered why you men hadn’t called us.’

  ‘Well, we had, of course.’

  Trixie’s voice changed, as if she was cupping the phone and whispering. ‘You were fantastic, Rolf.’

  Not looking at Andrew, who was hovering, Rolf replied, ‘Ditto.’

  ‘Not alone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Shame. We could have had phone sex. Would you like me to talk dirty to you, Rolf?’

  He twisted to one side in his chair in case his growing erection was showing. ‘That’d be nice.’

  ‘I wish your cock was in my mouth right now, all hard and hot and throbbing.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Is it awkward for you?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘Then we’ll save it. Can you call me later, say about half an hour after midnight? Penny should be in bed by then. So will I, most likely naked, unless I decide to wear something naughty.’

  ‘That sounds fine.’

  ‘It will be, I promise.’

  Andrew, who’d been jittering, couldn’t wait any longer. He interrupted with, ‘Can I talk to Penny, please, Dad?’

  ‘Just a minute.’ Into the phone, Rolf said, ‘Are you busy tomorrow, Trixie?’

  ‘Sorry, Lover, but yes. You know how it is when you move, particularly if it’s to a new state. We have to see that nice banker of yours and arrange an account for Penny and I’ll have to sign things, then there’s the changes of address, drivers’ licences, insurance, all those boring chores.’

  ‘Evening?’ he suggested.

 
‘We’ll be exhausted, no fun at all.’

  ‘Even exhausted, you’d be fun, Trixie. I could be happy just watching you sleep.’ Rolf realised that Andrew had heard that and scowled. Andrew turned away as if he hadn’t caught a word.

  Trixie asked, ‘How about the next day? If you two were to come over right after lunch and bring your swim-things, there’s a pool in the building that hardly ever gets used. We could make an afternoon and evening of it.’

  ‘Minute.’ Rolf turned to Andrew. ‘You OK for a swimming date, the day after tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course. What about tomorrow?’

  ‘They’re busy.’

  ‘Let me talk to Penny, please?’

  ‘Hold on. Trixie, we’re good for Thursday. I’ll call you back, er, later, as you suggested. Can Andrew talk to Penny now?’

  He passed the phone to his son and went to pour himself a Johnny Walker Gold. The prospect of two dates with Trixie called for a more celebratory drink than mere beer, even if one of the dates was to be by phone. Even so, while he was mentally picturing Trixie’s mature lushness, naked, he couldn’t help but wonder how revealing Penny’s bikini would be.

  They had two phone lines that connected with every phone. Lights came on to show if a line was in use. Just in case, once Andrew came off the line, Rolf sneaked into Andrew’s room and unplugged his phone. He didn’t want his son to be woken by a tell-tale light and he certainly didn’t want Andrew listening in on the sort of conversation he was expecting to have with Trixie.

  He and Andrew watched TV together. Rolf allowed Andrew two scotches, ‘To celebrate – whatever.’ Scotch was likely to make the boy sleepy. At eleven, Rolf announced, ‘I think I’ll take a shower.’

  ‘You had one this morning.’

  ‘Well, now I’m going to take another.’

  Fresh from his shower, Rolf checked the living room. Andrew wasn’t there. Good. He was likely in bed and asleep already. Padding noiselessly on bare feet, Rolf went to his bedroom and closed the door. He went to bed naked, with a box of tissues on the nightstand beside him.

  Not to seem too eager, he waited until twelve thirty-three before he punched ‘one’ on his speed-dial. Rolf counted eight rings before Trixie picked up. Her drawled ‘Hello’ was like velvet being drawn across the nape of his neck.