Sinful

by Skylar Cross

  I plunge into darkness. Once the blindfold is securely in place, Tara reenters my mouth with her tongue. I kiss her back.

  I feel the grip on my hair loosen, then re-tighten. But different. Then Tara stops kissing me and I sense her move aside.

  Oh God yes! I think I know what's coming. At least I hope it's what I think is coming!

  Damien handed control of my ponytail to someone else! Now I sense a presence in front of my face. A swarthy male scent.

  Then something bumps into me, smacking my cheek.

  Oh, I know that smack!

  That is cock. Big cock.

  Whoever is licking my pussy is doing an amazing job. She knows her way around, that's for sure.

  God, I want to get good at that too. I was clumsy with Isabella. I want to learn how Isabella does what she did, getting me to the edge and cycling me up again. Shit, maybe I am bisexual.

  The cock hits the side of my face again. Its incredible length travels down past my neck.

  Right now, this is what I want! A mouthful of this monster. Cock in me! Exploding cum in me.

  It's super-hard. Like a hammer. Slapping my face and teasing my mouth.

  Slap!

  I keep trying to get it in, but he's elusive. He moves it around.

  I don't care. I love the game. I so want it. I know I'm going to have it.

  Then I feel my face firmly planted underneath it, balls on my lips.

  That's it, I'm in heaven!

  Don't care about Satan. My mother's voice be damned. I love this.

  I stick my tongue out and lick the amazing sack in front of me.

  Oh God, these balls are delicious!

  He lets me get one in my mouth.

  All the while my pussy and asshole are still being tongued into silly happiness by the two other girls. What happened to Tara?

  As if she heard my thought, Tara's tongue reappears in my mouth. We kiss and then suck on the giant balls together.

  Then they move and I feel the tip at my mouth.

  Feels weird. Like it has a covering. But there's no condom.

  Whatever.

  I waste no time. I take the massive monster inside of me.

  Oh my God, it barely fits in my mouth! In the moonlight in the garden, it seemed huge... but not this huge!

  I feel an orgasm rising. Whoever is licking my pussy keeps it at bay, though. Very good. Very very good.

  But I may come anyway just from the sheer delight of having this incredible shaft in my mouth.

  Oh my God, it's too big!

  I can't fit the entire thing in my mouth, no matter how deep I take it in.

  All I know is I'm sucking like I've never been sucked before. My butthole is being eaten to perfection. I feel it opening up nicely. Whoever is on ass duty knows what she's doing as well.

  But I want this man's come! I have Damien Cage's cock in my mouth and I want to drink up his sweet hot white cum!

  I suck and suck and suck.

  My orgasm seems to drift all around me, swirling in circles.

  Damien moans.

  Wait, that wasn't Damien's voice!

  Before I can even ponder that, the blindfold is ripped off me. Directly in front of me, I see a black stomach with flat muscles under a pierced belly button with a floating diamond.

  Tara's face is on my left, licking my cheek. Damien's is on my right, looking directly into my eyes.

  "Do you like Jasmine's cock, slut?" he says.

  I look up.

  Over her amazing naked breasts, Jasmine smiles down at me. And spews her load into my mouth.

  As I sense her hotness filling my mouth with creamy man juice, I come.

  I come everywhere. In my pussy. In my asshole. In my mouth.

  Jasmine is like an endless well. Some of her makes it down my throat, but I still have a boatload in my mouth.

  Next thing I know her amazing uncut shaft is out of my mouth and Damien is kissing me.

  His tongue swirls inside me, lapping up Jasmine's creaminess into his own mouth. Then Tara moves in and kisses me too, taking some of the happy juice for herself.

  Then Jasmine bends down, her incredible spent dong pointed at the ground. Her beautiful face just smiles at me.

  Then she kisses me.

  I feel Damien's hot breath at my ear.

  "Are you a slut?" he says.

  "Un-huh," I say.

  "Say it."

  "I am a slut."

  "Say 'I am now free.'"

  "I am now free."

  "Say 'I am free because I am a slut and I love myself.'"

  "I am free because I am a slut and I... huh?"

  "Lesson over."

  I feel everything stop. All tongues withdrawn.

  "Thank you, sluts," says Damien. "I think Annika has learned something very important today."

  The three nymphs bounce off. Damien pulls me to my feet.

  Jasmine smiles at me, glowing. She starts to walk away, then turns and gives me a little wave.

  So fucking hot.

  "Nice technique, Annika," she says. "You're good."

  Damien undoes the rope that binds me.

  I feel a sense of disappointment, even sadness. Is this over? Shit, I hope not.

  "I have to fly to L.A.," Damien says. "We'll talk more about this at our next meeting on Friday morning. Get dressed."

  "Get dressed?" I say. "That's it? Just get dressed? Bound. Gagged. Teased to orgasm. Faked out. And just get dressed?"

  He steps toward me and grabs me forcefully.

  "You loved it," he says, then kisses me with full force. As his tongue swirls in me, I feel it. We've kissed twice before, but this is our first real one. He means this one.

  Then he pushes me away and heads toward the door.

  "Now get dressed and go," he says. "Or stay if you want. You and the other girls can get yourselves off all afternoon if it so pleases you."

  Then he's gone and I'm standing there on the patio, still naked. I look over at the three nymphs, back to sunning themselves.

  They're all pretty fantastic-looking.

  Oh God, am I really considering this? I really am a slut, aren't I?

  The whole incident should have revolted me. I even should have been mad that Damien faked me out with Jasmine, but I wasn't. I wanted her the moment I saw her.

  It's like here, at this house, with all its genderless sexuality, everything is okay. Everything is permitted.

  It's the house of Satan.

  Shut up, mom.

  I grab my clothes but don't put them on. I walk down the stairs, through the house and out to the pool area.

  "Hi, tramp," says Tiffany.

  "Hi, slut," I say, giggling.

  The other girls giggle.

  "You did some pretty amazing things with your tongue," I say.

  "Thank you," say Tiffany and... what was the third one's name?... at the same time. They both look at each other, then giggle.

  "Want to do that to us?" says Tiffany.

  "Sure," I say.

  Who said that? Was that me?

  Tiffany pulls me down onto her lounge chair. She leans forward and kisses me. The third one hops on the chair beside me, fondling my ass. Tara kisses the third one from behind.

  And we're off.

  All afternoon long.

  I really am a slut.

  And I goddamned love it.

  Chapter 20

  When I arrive at the office blasting and singing along with Rihanna to S&M, both Steve's BMW and Dale's bright orange 1976 VW Bug are there. I park next to Dale. Anything to help my car look better.

  I never see Dale. Just once way back when I was first hired. He's never there. Usually just emails in his work.

  But today it's okay if he's at my... well, our... desk.

  After all, I have a shiny new Mac laptop! I can go across the street to Starbucks and write there if I want.

  Ha!

  Not that I have any writing to do today because I am done! Done with a capital D
. My article on Damien Cage is in Steve's inbox.

  If you ever have a mental block when it comes to writing, I highly suggest sucking off the huge cock of a gorgeous black transsexual woman until her cum bursts in your mouth... while licked in all your holes by three beautiful naked blonde nymphs ... all at the command of a rock star who has bound your wrists behind your back. Then spend an afternoon licking the nymphs until you all come in a four-girl frenzy.

  Guaranteed all your creativity will flow.

  Guaran-fucking-teed!

  I feel great! I'm a proud slut. I am woman. I fuck. I suck. I come.

  As I step out of my car, I breathe in the thick humid summer air. Ah, I love it. I love Florida. I love everybody.

  As I walk past the door to the promotion company, I toss a big smile and wave at Amber... or is it Ashley? She smiles back with a big fakety-fake flash of teeth.

  I don't hate her today like usual. I may even want to eat her snatch.

  God, I think I may actually love myself.

  Private eye door closed as usual. Someday I'm going to knock just for kicks. Maybe it's just a front for drug dealers. Or maybe he's got a huge cock I can suck too.

  Okay, Annika, come back to Earth! There are more things in life besides sex!

  (Not really. But I need to play along with the boring folks.)

  Still humming Rihanna, I stand tall and open the door to MiamiImproper.com.

  Dale is seated at his desk... my desk... our desk. Steve is standing in the hallway between our office and his.

  "Annika," he says. "I'm glad you're here. Sit down."

  Rihanna in my head stops playing.

  Uh-oh.

  I've walked into a quagmire. Don't know what it is yet but I can see it on their long faces. I grab the cheap office chair from near the door and sit down.

  "What's up?" I say. "Hi, Dale."

  Dale just waves to me with a sad smile.

  "Well," says Steve, "I just got off the phone with Miami Breeze Estates, our biggest advertiser."

  His voice tone is somewhere between despair and darkness.

  "Oh no," I say, putting my hands up to my mouth. "Don't tell me. They didn't!"

  "Unfortunately... they did," he says as he looks down. "No more advertising revenue from them. And that means... unfortunately... God, I can't believe this... I have to pull the plug. That's the third advertiser who bailed in the last week and our biggest by far. We are now officially hemorrhaging money."

  Shit.

  The $17 Target office chair in which I sit sinks down a notch like it always does, but right on cue this time.

  "So I have to let you and Dale go," he says.

  Dale and I just look at each other.

  "But..." says Steve, "there is a bright side."

  "What's that?" I say.

  "Your pay remains the same."

  "Funny," I say. "Shit, Steve. There is nothing good about this. You had an idea, a dream, a vision."

  He sighs and looks through the Venetian blinds at the parking lot.

  "I know," he says. "I know. And I want to thank both of you. I couldn't have done it without you. You've both been amazing. Top quality work. We did some good here. Two years of solid stuff that I'm damned proud of. Stuff I hope both of you can use as you further your careers. And, of course, you can always use me as a reference. I'll sing your praises to high heaven."

  "Shit, Steve," I say. "This sucks. Are we dark now?"

  "We're still up, but I'm going to email the hosting company and shut it down. And I'm fucked because this month's rent on the office isn't paid. Plus there will be a penalty for breaking the lease. None of which I have. I think I'll be forced to declare bankruptcy."

  "Bankruptcy? Seriously? Isn't there any other way?"

  "Not that I can see."

  Dale just sits and stares. Dale is fiftyish. Tall and skinny. Gray longish hair. Octagonal glasses. Wearing a flowered shirt and white pants. He looks devastated.

  "Thanks for the Damien Cage article, by the way," Steve says. "You nailed it. By far your best work yet. I barely touched it before putting it up."

  "You published it?"

  "Yes, it will be the last MiamiImproper.com feature. For two hours, anyway."

  I haven't told Steve about the book yet. Don't know why. Maybe subconsciously I knew this was coming.

  "I'm just going to get my things out of here," says Dale to me. "I won't be long if you want to grab your stuff."

  "Yeah, sure," I say. "Actually, I have only one thing. It's in the top left drawer."

  Dale opens the drawer and I move forward.

  "This?" he says as he hands me my worn copy of Strunk & White.

  "Yep, thanks," I say as I take it.

  I turn to Steve. I move forward and hug him. He pats me on the back as we embrace.

  "Do you want to go out for drinks?" I say. "Maybe a few? It's on me. You too, Dale."

  "Thanks, Annika," says Steve. "That's very sweet of you. But I think I'm just going to lock up and go home. I just want to be alone if you don't mind. We will have drinks, though, sometime soon. I promise."

  "Okay," I say and let go of him. I turn to Dale and put out my hand. "Good luck, Dale."

  "You too, Annika," he says as he shakes my hand.

  "Well... I guess I'll just go."

  Steve just nods. I head to the door.

  I take one last look around before I exit. Steve gives me a little wave, his head hung low.

  I'm fighting back tears as I walk out into the hallway. I don't even look in at the promotion company.

  By the time I get to my car, I can't help it. My eyes are streaming. I look around at the crappy little parking lot, remembering the first time I parked in this spot. That was the day I met Steve two years ago.

  It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years. I had the opportunity for an internship with the Miami Herald but I chose this instead, having answered Steve's Craigslist ad.

  I didn't even think I'd take it, but Steve's passion and energy convinced me. I saw myself as the founding member of a very successful publication.

  Steve seemed unstoppable. I thought he was really going to make it big. Plus, he worked on the damned thing 24/7, even sleeping at his desk some nights.

  Fuck.

  I get in my car. I put my key in the ignition, but only turn it halfway. The seat belt warning beeps.

  I lean forward, letting my head fall on the steering wheel. The heat is ridiculously thick.

  I had earmarked some money out of the ten thousand to put toward my ridiculous credit card balance of $8,367.45.

  Not to mention some repairs on my car.

  But in a moment, I know what I really want to do with it.

  I remove the key from the ignition. I get out and walk back to the office.

  Dale is loading papers into boxes. Steve is just sitting at his desk, his hand at his mouth as he stares at his computer screen.

  "Steve," I say. He looks up. "I want to pay off the final month's rent plus the penalty and whatever extra expenses you need to close this place down."

  "With what?" says Steve. "Some pennies from your Janis Joplin bag?"

  "I like to call it a hipster satchel," I say. "And truth is, I've come into a little money lately. Not a lot, but pretty substantial for me. And it's all because of you that I got it. So I'd like to... help."

  Steve just looks at me with a glazed over expression.

  "Damien," I say, "Damien Cage has hired me to write a book for him. He gave me a ten thousand dollar advance. I want to give you whatever you need to close down this place properly... with dignity."

  "Annika," says Steve, "I couldn't take that from you. A book?! He wants you to write a book for him?! That's incredible! I'm so happy for you!"

  Steve's eyes go wide. He leans back so Dale can't see him and whispers "You did fuck him, didn't you?"

  I smile and blush. My glasses slip down my nose a little. I take them off and put them in my satchel.

  "No
," I say. "But I've done some... things. Forget that for now. My point is I have the money and if it weren't for you, I never would have gotten the offer... so... it's your money."

  "No, Annika," says Steve. "All of this can be written off. That's very kind of you. I'll be fine. I refuse to take your money from... Damien Cage? He really wants you to write a book for him? What, a biography?"

  "More self-help slash philosophy slash get-up-off-your-ass type thing."

  Steve just stares at me.

  "Whatever," he says. "I'm happy for you. And I thank you. But don't worry. I'll be fine. I have a good accountant and a good attorney. They'll close this place down and I might walk away with enough to buy a Triple Macchiato across the street. Or at least some filtered tap water. Maybe."

  "Are you sure, Steve?"

  "I'm sure."

  I'm crying now. Steve gets up and moves toward me. I wrap my arms around him.

  "I'm sorry, Steve," I say between sobs. "I wish I had done better."

  "Nobody could have done better than you," he says as he squeezes me. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done."

  "I'm going to talk to Damien," I say, wiping tears from my eyes. "Maybe there's something he can do. A loan. Or a lead on a new sponsor."

  "Annika, you're a good person, you know that? But I'll be fine. I'll rise again. You go write your book. You've earned it."

  I hug him one more time and leave.

  Chapter 21

  "I so appreciate your taking me here," says my mom as she leans over and twirls my hair. "You're my sweet baby girl."

  "It's no big deal, mom," I say. "You know I'm always here for you."

  We're sitting in the large waiting room. Same one as always. Ever since her surgery, she has to do a follow-up every six months. It's routine, but she's very nervous and gets all bent out of shape over it. I always go with her to ease her nerves.

  I have my Kindle with me. The hospital depresses me so I'm trying to concentrate on a book I'm reading. Plus, I'm still in shock over MiamiImproper.com and I don't want to think about it right now. I'm going to ask Damien to help Steve out, but Damien is still in L.A.

  I keep putting my hand up to my face to cover the sore spot where I took out my cheek stud. Can't let my mom see that.

  A woman about my mother's age sits directly across from us, leafing through a Martha Stewart magazine.