by J. S. Wilder
Like a flash of lightening¸ Mr Sparks appeared in the room. “It’s the one on the end,” he whispered as he past me. I smelt his aroma and I nearly died, too nervous to look at the man that was in the painting. I heard him walk to Mrs Sparks and give her a kiss. I assumed it was on the cheek for I didn’t hear the smacking of lips.
“Good afternoon, darling. We were not expecting you until tomorrow.”
“I left a day early,” he said as he stared at me. I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, for they bore deep inside of me, peeling away each layer slowly and carefully.
His son, Simon, cleared his throat breaking the spell. I glanced at Mrs Sparks, who appeared to be infuriated by our encounter. Simon shook his head as he glanced at his mother as though he knew what happened in my room.
“We are eating, dear. Do you mind not flirting with the student until after dinnertime? And Deborah, would you please eat!”
My skin heated, but I did as I was told and so did Mr Sparks, because he never looked my way again. Simon rambled on about student life at Oxford and how he loved it. Mathematics and Statistics? I was majoring in those same courses. Yet, the more he talked, the more I had doubts about my choice. I have a strange feeling that it will be full of geeks. And his descriptions of his best friends, Edward, Charlie, and Henry sounded like even duller geeks.
I sat there nervously, because every time a dish came my way, not only did I not know which cutlery to use, but also I felt as if Mrs Sparks was constantly watching me. She talked and laughed in between the courses, but every so often, she gave me the evil eye and it cut like a knife right through my soul. I couldn’t wait for this meal to end—the sooner, the better.
***
The one room in the house that did fascinate me was the library. Mainly, because the only libraries I had ever visited had been in public buildings and never in someone’s house. They were normally a few books on a shelf overtaken with DVD’s. This was something very different. It had a stereo in the corner, which Betty told me was used to play only classical music. She said that all I had to do was press the on button and either Beethoven or Mozart would come pouring out from every corner of the room.
This was the first thing I did as I eagerly picked up books and read the inscription to find out more. It was like heaven. The school library is full of books but geared to different ages. This one was full of adult books, but some of them felt like they were the original, the pages intact, but they were old and delicate. I shook my head at the idea that I could be holding the original Great Expectations. I remember reading on the net that it was worth tens of thousands. Would it really be just sitting in the library for anyone to take?
“Yes, it’s the original,” Mr Sparks whispered in my ear and then darted across to the other side of the room. He must be a ghost. I’ve never known anyone that could move as fast as he could. A trail of his scent lingered as he moved. I inhaled it and embraced it as I followed him.
“I didn’t catch your name?” he asked as he realized that we were never formerly introduced. I felt myself being drawn to him like a magnet. I tried not to let my heart miss a beat as I gazed into his bright green eyes. He wore a black suit with matching shirt and red tie. Something that I never noticed before was his age. He didn’t look much older than Simon was, or maybe it’s because I was memorised by him. Then again, Mrs Sparks didn’t look much older than Simon did, either. I had a suspicion that nothing about that was natural.
Everyone had class in this house. I truly felt like an outsider who didn’t belong. Also, I was scared. I was waiting for Mrs Sparks to come in at any moment to tell me off for talking to her husband or reading a book.
I drew a bit too close to his body. I realised that I was flirting as I answered, “Deborah Withers.” I was so close to him that I could almost taste him. I wanted him to pull back and stop the attraction that was happening between us, but instead, he gently put his arm round my waist, drawing me closer and whispered, “Nice to meet you.” He forced his tongue inside my mouth and formally introduced himself.
I wanted to scream. This was my first kiss, and it was with a married man. The problem was he tasted as nice as I thought he would, his lips delicious. They tasted like vanilla and sweet. Not only was I a virgin, but I had never been kissed.
Sure, I had watched movies, dreamt about what it would be like, but until you carry out the actions for real, it’s all just making believe. This felt awesome. Maybe I had been watching too many movies because the next thing I did was race my hand through his soft wavy hair.
As I did, he pulled me back. “Not now, my sweet. Not now. All things come to those who wait...” with those words, he flashed back out of the library and left me in heaven still yearning for more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I never saw him again. I had hoped I would see him later that evening, or the next morning at breakfast or even at lunch. Yet, nothing. It was as if he didn’t exist in this house or truly was just a ghost.
“He’s in his quarters, dear,” Mrs Sparks spoke through her teeth as we posed for a photo in her library. I shook my head as I was straining to hold in my stomach in this dress. I forgot that it was too tight. Also, it was a wasted effort when the photographer pointed out that I should look more like a student rather than a college graduate, too mature for my age. In hindsight, it was a compliment, but I wanted to look good in these photos and not in the same old jeans and T-shirt with the wonky glasses that I wore every day.
Give a girl a break. I’m living with the upper class. At least for once during the three days, I would like to fit in. Why was that so hard for everyone to understand or at least appreciate? Mrs Sparks said that I should have dressed normally, that way the photo would have been easier for people to believe.
Betty had put a touch of make-up on me, and with my contact lenses, I did have a ‘plain me’ turned into a ‘beautiful swan’ moment. Shame it wasn’t welcomed by anyone.
“You look nice,” Simon said and nodded as he entered the room. This is the first and probably the only time that he had spoken to me since the dinner my first night and I was glad to see him. Just like at dinner when his mother and father, or so I thought was his dad, were arguing, Simon would be defending his mother. Regardless of her tone or at one time her language. I find it a peculiar relationship or maybe it’s just jealousy because my mum and I have nothing in common.
My first night here, I returned my mum’s call. She asked me if I took the gas meter card because she couldn’t find it. I cried myself to sleep after that. I thought she called to find out if I got here safely, but her call was prompted by something she needed. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still hurt.
“At long last, where have you been?” Mrs Sparks asked as Mr Sparks came into the room. I held my breath because he was just as sexy as he was the last time. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t grow up in a convent. I’ve seen men before, but none that dress in suits all the time. Even the supervisors at work do, but you can tell the suit is from Tesco’s and they get fifty percent off. One thing about Tesco’s was everyone talks about all the discounts, and you are looked down on if you don’t buy one of them.
The thing is a man could be in his forties the same age as my father, but he smells of power, confidence, and so much sophistication that you don’t even think or worry about his age. His charisma takes over and consumes you.
Just as my thoughts were on the trail of Mr Sparks and all the things I would like to do to him, the photographer asks that Mr Sparks and I take a photo side-by-side. Mr Sparks decided to trace one finger along the arch of my back as he slowly and firmly pinched my bum. He then put his arms around my shoulder and did the same to Mrs Sparks until she pushed him away. The photographer said that it would be better if it were a natural photo. Therefore, she moved closer to him again and gave him a warning look. I was unclear if the look was for me or for him.
I smirked at the idea that Mrs Sparks did not want Mr Sparks near me while yesterday
she had me squeezing her boobs. Their relationship was strange as they both spoke to each other formally and called each other Mrs Sparks and Mr Sparks. Not by their first name, which I still didn’t know what they were. They slept separately… but then again, I had a suspicion that they did a lot separately.
Betty revealed that the downstairs was like a separate living quarter. It has a bedroom, bathroom, living room, dining room, and its own library. It’s a replica of the second floor. Mr Sparks considered that his floor and only Betty could visit that floor—no one else, not even his son. I found that a bit strange, I mean, what could be down there that you would not allow your wife or son to see, but you would allow your maid.
I let out a light laugh, Betty had revealed to me more about this family in the last twenty-four hours than I had shown to my mum about how I felt in the last five years. Yet she was seen to be the most trusted employee.
Everyone stopped and looked at me to see what I found so amusing. I said the first thing that came to my mind and immediately regretted it. “I just remembered the time that I couldn’t solve an equation. I spent all night trying to figure it out. Never slept. Went to school the next day and fell asleep in class. Mrs Campbell woke me up, and I had figured out the equation.” They all looked at me as if I were talking a different language. Apart from Simon, who was continuously praising me, replied, “Been there too many times, too many.”
Both Mr and Mrs Sparks shook their head in disapproval. They must have heard this story a million times from Simon. I made it up and it was the furthest thing from my mind. My mind focused on Mr Sparks repeatedly tracing the back of my dress with his finger, and I began to wonder if he would visit me tonight and do a lot more than that.
***
I sat at dinner hoping it would end. Mrs Sparks talked about the photo shoot and made it clear… Maybe she didn’t think it was clear enough, so she felt the need to repeat it… The photo shoot at Oxford needed to be taken in my regular clothes. “You’re not applying for Hello magazine, so you should stop trying to look like you are.”
I wished tomorrow were Monday, so I could be done with all this. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I’m not sure which one is worse—a mum that would trade me in for a happy meal at the drop of a hat, or Mrs Sparks who seems to believe that a Happy Meal is more valuable than I ever will be.
As she continued to scold me, I couldn’t take anymore and excused myself from the table. As I did, I heard Simon tell his mum that she was going over the top. Mr Sparks was absent, and I sobbed as soon as I got up two flights of stairs. I cried so much, I felt that my tear ducts were on automatic and would never dry up.
I felt a mess and through the tears, I ripped off my dress. I’ve never felt so dirty before in my life. I released my bun, and stripped down naked and grabbed a bathrobe, covering myself as I lay on the bed and cried, I didn’t want to stop.
I cried for the mother that knew nothing about me and most of the time never cared. I cried for the grandmother who loved me with all her heart and how I might only see her maybe three times a year during vacation. I cried for myself for praying that I would go to university, and now that I’m going, I hate it and I have not even been there yet. Most of all I cried for me, for what I had left, where I was, and where I was going…
There was a light knock on the door. The person didn’t wait for me to say anything, but simply started turning the door handle, and I knew someone was entering. I was scared and relieved when I saw Mr Sparks.
Wary of my attire, I quickly wrapped the robe around me tightly, and as I started to do it quickly, he closed the door and said, “Don’t. I can make you feel better, lay back down on the bed.” I lay back down, aware that Mrs Sparks could enter at any moment. For some reason, I didn’t care, especially because of the way she treated me this evening. I sniffled as I wrapped my robe around me tighter.
“No, not with the robe.”
I looked at him shocked by his request, and he simply nodded as if to confirm what he had just said.
I took the robe off and flung it on the floor. It seemed to arouse him because he said, “Nice.” His voice was husky and sent shivers through me. I should be afraid, being naked with a mature man, but I felt beautiful and powerful. It was a new sensation, and I didn’t want it to end.
I rose onto the bed slowly fully exposing my big arse. He followed me and as I lay with no bra and no panties, he asked, “Were you waiting for me?”
I nodded. In a way, I was waiting for him. I knew he wanted me. The way I felt right now, I needed something, especially him. I didn’t care that he was taking advantage or that he would take my virginity, and I would never see him again, because I just needed to be loved. I wanted this one thing from him. He could do it over and over and over again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He started to play with my feet. At first, it was ticklish, and then I started to feel a different type of feeling. The one that I got whenever I watched porn a couple of times. I watched it to learn about sex and to learn about pleasing myself. At the time, I figured at this rate that I would be a virgin for eternity. I watched him as he stroked my feet, and I imagined his hands riding up higher.
Everyone complimented me on my figure. They said I was athletic, and so I must play tennis three times a week, because I have thighs like Serena Williams. Mum says it’s the black genes in me that gives me this shape, and with a 34 C breast size, I would not say I was overflowing, but I have generously sized breasts that I hoped would stay that way as I grew older.
He sat on the foot of the bed as he played with my feet. At first, I watched him, until he said, “Close your eyes.” I did everything he asked because I hoped that in all his madness, he would do the one thing that I desired, and that was to make love to me.
As my eyes closed, I felt something soft and moist tracing lines up and down the inside of my thighs. At first, I thought it was his fingers, then I wondered if it was his dick, but as it became moister, I realised that it was his tongue. It felt warm, sending tingle sensations up and down my body.
I started to arch my back slightly, and then I felt his mouth on my nipples. They were taut and straining for him. He started sucking on them harder and harder as if he were pulling on a straw. I started to feel pleasure and even pain at times. He would bite them and other times mildly lick them. His movements were gentle and slow. I couldn’t fault him for anything he was doing, but there was one thing I craved, one thing I hoped he would do again. I wanted him to kiss me.
Instead, his tongue explored my body. It raced down my stomach and into the palms of my hand. I cupped his face and he muzzled in my hand like a baby. The whole experience was sensual. He was not simply going to have sex with me but enjoy me, too. It sent waves of pleasure and passion down my spine.
His speed changed and so did his direction. I wanted to open my eyes, but I was scared. If I did, then he might have decided not to enter me. He started growling and speeding up pace. I started to moan louder as he became rougher and somewhat forcible, though I didn’t deny him any part of my body.
Fuck me! I shouted in my mind, and it was as if he had read my thoughts and knew my body, which had begun to ache as he cupped my breast and pulled on them. He pulled them so hard that I let out a light scream.
“Yes, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll never forget it!”
Good was the word that entered my mind as I heard him unzip his trousers and straighten my legs up in the air.
I gritted my teeth together, because it hurt so much, and I found myself back in the pleasure and pain zone.
“You’re so tight. You’re a virgin—just the way I like them.”
It was sore. He was opening up my pussy, and I could feel the walls stretching as he reached further inside. I was going through pleasure and pain at the same time. As my wetness increased, the pain decreased, and the pleasure began to take over.
I was so overcome and aroused at the same time that his words did not sink in until later�
�� much later.
I felt everything in me shake and it scared me, he was so big or maybe as he said I was tight that it felt like my body was ripped apart. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream so loud, but his wife was downstairs, so I only whimpered while biting my teeth at the same time.
I held my butt in the air so he could thrust me over and over again. As I began to relax and arch my back more, he stopped and withdrew himself from me. He lay down next to me and said, “I’m not ready for you to come yet.”
Is this what was happening?
I was coming? How did he know and I didn’t?
I had read about it in Fifty Shades of Grey. I assumed that was what they were doing in the two porn movies I watched. However, they were so mechanical that it was hard to determine exactly how felt.
“That fucking arse just turns me on. Especially in that red dress.” He whimpered as he lifted my leg and shoved his fat cock into me one more time. Then he rocked back and forth. I held onto his butt, and it was only at then that it dawned on me that he had not removed any of his clothes. Here I was naked, and he was fully dressed, probably so he could make a quick exit after he had finished.
His hands were hungry over my body. One minute they were gripping tightly onto my arse, the next they were fondling my nipple, and other times they were holding my breast—or as much as he could scoop in one hand. He was hungry to fuck me, and I was ready to receive him. I started to sweat, but I got the impression he was doing most of the work.
I had the same feeling take over my body. I began to jerk as I realised it was happening again. It excited me but frightened me at the same time. I realised that for the first time in my life, I was actually going to climax.
I bit his arm hard, and he screamed and then laughed a wicked laugh. Just then, I felt his cum as it shot straight up inside of me. I released him, because I felt all my energy draining from my body as I climaxed. I licked my lips and thought how twenty minutes ago, or maybe longer, I was a virgin—and now I no longer fit that category.
