Sophie's Pleasure Read online

  He scooted his chair closer. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”

  “Oh boy,” she said in breathless anticipation.

  He grinned. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I like the way you think.”

  He smiled. “Do you have any idea how beautiful your pussy is?”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Like the rest of you, it’s perfect. Lean back just a little, so I can reach all of you.”

  Sophie did as he asked and groaned her pleasure as his tongue slipped between her lips and licked her until nothing but pleasure filled her world.

  His tongue was so hot. She couldn’t seem to stop moaning. Every touch of his tongue, his chin, his nose took her further into the ecstasy. She floated somewhere above the earth in a place where only pleasure exited.

  There wasn’t a doubt that she loved every thing he was doing. Still he needed to hear her say it. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his words slightly muffled, for he never bothered to move away from her as he spoke.

  “Oh God,” she moaned again as his words dragged her back from the edge of delirium. And after a few seconds of silence, she said, “I’m thinking that you shouldn’t end a sentence with a preposition.”

  He laughed. “Wow, English lessons and sex. It’s almost more than a man can stand.”

  “You’re not standing.”

  “I will be in a minute.”

  “Stop making me think. I don’t want to think right now.” Her stomach tightened to a tremendous ache. She was almost there. Lord, this felt so good. She never wanted him to stop.

  “You taste delicious. I can’t believe how much I love the way you taste.”

  “I’m going to come again,” she managed, although she couldn’t have said how, what with the crushing ache in her abdomen and the way her heart pounded, choking off her breathing.

  He smiled as he tore open another condom and slipped it over his erection. He stood, replacing his tongue with an ever-moving finger then pushed his cock into her, deep, deep into her. It was more than she could bear, and she grunted and groaned in almost delirious pleasure. “You’re killing me,” she moaned as she strained desperately towards him, lifting her hips, aching for everything he could give her.

  She held the edge of the table as he thrust his body into hers. It was the best thing she’d ever known. It was better than anything ever.

  Then came the pain, the tightness, the terrible ache that twisted at her stomach until it built to a roar of torment then suddenly broke free and sucked her deeper into the magic, spinning her out into space and she knew only diabolical, aching pleasure as wave upon crushing wave of ecstasy flowed over her, trembling her body, encompassing her being into mindless, wondrous madness.

  The aching pleasure had barely begun to ease when she felt him come, felt every hot burst of cum, felt his cock helplessly spurt his juices. Even through the condom she felt the heat, the spasms bringing her pleasure beyond bearing and knew her muscles squeezed at his cock and helplessly sucked him deeper into her. She hadn’t the power to do more than accept his every delicious thrust.

  “And now,” he gasped as his cock finally eased its endless aching shudders. “And now we kiss.”

  His mouth slashed across hers, and she moaned into the lusciousness of his taste, his texture. She hadn’t thought it would be this good. Not after all she’d so far suffered. Not after all they’d done.

  His mouth ate at hers, and she helplessly gave him all he wanted.

  She tasted herself on his tongue and wondered if there was anything to compare. He breathed into her, and she moaned as the combined flavour of him, her pussy, their dinner and wine seemed to melt into a devastating assault to her senses. He couldn’t have tasted better. Nothing could have tasted better than this.

  Hot, feverishly hot his mouth never stopped moving, while his tongue, teeth and lips became one entity whose sole purpose was to bestow pleasure. And that he did. She moaned a weak, “Oh God,” knowing there was no one who could have given more. “I love the way you kiss, the way you taste.”

  “Jesus,” he breathed against her mouth even as he sucked all he could of her. “Have you any idea how warm you are, how delicious? I can’t get enough.”

  He guided her from the table to his lap, and Sophie held on, dizzy from the movement, from the sensations instilled from the lack of oxygen.

  It took only a second to rid himself of the condom. Like the first it was set into a paper napkin and dropped to the floor near his discarded clothes. He hugged her tightly against him and took deep, desperate breaths, as if trying to bring a moment of sanity to the madness that had engulfed them both. Only Sophie wasn’t interested in sanity. Her mouth was pure magic and intoxicating heat as it moved over his jaw, his throat. She couldn’t get enough of his taste. “Kiss me. Joe, don’t stop now. Kiss me.”

  Her demands only coaxed a helpless groan from his throat, and she smiled knowing he was powerless but to accede to her wishes. At her table, each concentrated solely on the taste of the other, the texture, the feel and with each passing moment their kisses grew wilder and intensified a frantic longing for more. Each murmured again and again that they couldn’t get enough and finally with her legs around his waist, his hands under her ass, he was carrying her. His mouth against hers, he asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Upstairs, on the right. God, I love the taste of your mouth,” she repeated, mindlessly lost in the texture and taste of him then smiled as he came to a sudden surprising stop midway on the stairs.

  Obviously under some strain, he shook his head and confessed, “I can’t. Jesus, I have to have you again. Right now.”

  In an instant, he turned them and leaned his hips on one step. Quickly, he pulled another condom over his cock. His fingers shook in his urgency. “This is my last one.”

  “I have more upstairs.”

  “Good,” he barely managed then invited, “Ride me, Sophie, ride me. Jesus, hurry!” he said and cried out as she took him deep into the blazing heat of her.

  He gasped for his every breath when he next realised what had happened.

  She grinned at his astonished expression. It was easy enough to see he wasn’t a man who usually lost control. “So stairs do it for you, huh?”

  He chuckled and pulled her tighter against him. “It appears they do. I didn’t know it until now.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t go anywhere. I can’t move yet.”

  “How’s your back?”

  “It’s killing me.”

  “And you don’t want to move?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he breathed then a few seconds later said, “All right, here we go.” He pulled her tighter against him and brought the two of them up the last few steps to the second floor landing.

  Her legs were still around his waist as he stumbled into her bedroom. He bypassed her bed upon noticing her shower.

  He kissed her again. God, but this man knew what it was to kiss. Still joined with him, she felt only the slightest discomfort as he pushed her up against the cold tiles. A moment later, water splashed over them both. It took a minute, but he finally adjusted the temperature.

  And all the while, she was only vaguely conscious of her surroundings because he never stopped kissing her.

  He moved them out of the spray and threw the condom into her toilet. He soaped his hands. Together, they washed one another, leaving not an inch of sensitive skin unaffected.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

  “Why?” she asked only half listening, for his touch was enough to steal her mind.

  “Because I’m going to smell like a French whore house.”

  She laughed. “Will you? Why?”

  “Because men aren’t supposed to smell like jasmine.”

  She smiled and suggested, “You could always take another shower when you get home.”

  “I could, I suppose, but I like the way you smell. Maybe I
’ll just enjoy it for a bit.” He paid particular attention to her breasts and pussy, especially her clitoris. Standing beneath the warm spray, holding to the towel bar, she was helpless against the wonder of him, his mouth nibbling at her nipples, his finger at her clit. She cried out as the blinding, aching pleasure came again.

  With fluffy towels, they dried one another then slid between her crisp sheets to snuggle. “Finally, a comfortable place to play,” she murmured. “Why didn’t we come up here first?”

  “We could have, but it’s not easy to think when a lady strips down in her kitchen.”

  “It’s not easy to think in a lady’s bed, either. I’ll show you what I mean.” And she did. Joe felt his body give a tremendous shudder and could only moan as she ran her lips and tongue down the length of him. It took no insistence on her part to find him eagerly upon his back, trembling for the feel of her mouth, anxious that she should discover every inch of him. She was under the sheet causing him one gasp after another when she suddenly stopped and said, “Look what I found.”

  “What?” he asked as her hand examined the length and width of his cock.

  “I was wondering where he was.”

  “Were you? I could have told you if you asked.”

  She pulled away the sheet and grinned. “Some things are more fun to do on your own. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “So what do you think of him?”

  “I think he’s a bold little guy.”

  “Do you?” he asked then immediately frowned. “What do you mean little? You said before he was too big.”

  She laughed. “I only mean little compared to you, of course.”

  He chuckled. “And what do you mean bold? I think he’s very nice.”

  “I haven’t a doubt you’d think as much, but it would take a bold one to poke at a lady, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You might be right. He’s done quite a bit of poking today.”

  She rested her head on one hand while the other never stopped its delicious examination of his cock and balls. “Do you think he’d like it if I kissed him hello?”

  Joe groaned. “Jesus. You’re going to give me a heart attack.” And then answered her question with, “I think he’d love just about anything you do to him, especially he’d love it if you were to kiss him.”

  Sophie decided it was time to do just that. Her mouth hovered over him, her breath hot and moist teased his ever-hardening flesh. He groaned in anticipation and arched his hips slightly. After that he was helpless but to moan as her mouth began its delicious play. She kissed and licked and sucked at him, all the while allowing her kisses, every touch of her lips to grow hotter, wetter, wilder, dragging him deeper under her intoxicating spell. She left not a portion of flesh untouched, but licked him from base to tip then sucked him, hard and deep into her mouth. He cried out at the pleasure and breathed a low moan as her mouth eased its hold then sucked him again.

  “You’re killing me” he gasped. “God, this feels so good.”

  She squeezed gently at his balls and he groaned his appreciation. “Like that, do you?”

  “I like everything you do.”

  “How about this?” she asked as she licked then smothered the sensitive tip of his cock with wet heat and gently scraped her teeth against it.

  “Oh God, yes,” he shivered even as he murmured drunkenly. “Everything.”

  And Sophie continued to treat him to luscious delights, all the while driving him ever closer to delirium.

  “I hate to say this, but you have to stop. I’m going to come.”

  “I don’t have to stop for that,” she returned as she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a condom. Within seconds, she slid it over his throbbing erection and again took him deep into the heat of her mouth. As she worked over his sex he was helpless but to moan a feverish, “God, you’re killing me.”

  His body hardened, his breathing grew desperate. “Sophie, God, Sophie, I can’t…” His voice dwindled down to a low breathless moan as she felt the first spurt of cum, hot despite the condom. And then another. The spasms seemed endless. She moaned her pleasure at being able to bring this man such delight.

  The next time, he had his senses about him, he found he’d come again, for what he thought was the fourth time. “Four times?” he asked in disbelief, while eyeing the last condom wrapper, the one taken from her draw and left on her night stand.

  “I don’t know. I lost count,” she murmured sleepily into his chest.

  He chuckled into her hair. “I’ve no doubt. After six times, I always lose count.” He hadn’t managed four times in one night since he was a kid. “How did we get upstairs?”

  “We did it on the stairs. Don’t you remember?”

  “I remember the chair, the table, the stairs, the shower and this bed, but I don’t remember moving.”

  Sophie chuckled. “You are funny.”

  “I’m serious. I think I went into a sexual coma, once your shorts hit the floor. I don’t remember anything after that.”

  “Wow, that’s complimentary.”

  “I mean moving. I only remember touching you, feeling you. I’ve never seen a more beautiful naked lady.” As he spoke, his hand moved down her body and slid between her legs. “Shall we make it an even seven?”

  “Mmm, I always thought seven was a perfectly even number.” Her body curved helplessly into his hard, rapid thrusts as he brought her once more to a quick, mindless, breathless climax. A moment later, she breathed weakly, “Mmm, that felt good. Thank you.”

  “Yes, it did,” he agreed. “And thank you,” he returned as he breathed in the lemony scent of her damp hair.

  “I need a nap.”

  “Yeah,” he said, completely forgetting the fact that he never, absolutely never slept with a woman, “me too.”

  He pulled her tight against him and before either realised it they were both asleep.

  * * * *

  Out of the dark, a deep voice whispered low and near her ear. “Have you another condom?”

  “In my drawer. Take one. Just don’t wake me up.”

  His chuckle was tender, the sound almost as delicious as the movement of his lips against her pussy seconds later. Sophie moaned unhappily at being dragged from sleep but thought a better means of awakening didn’t exist.

  “Oh lovely,” she murmured as his tongue slid from her clit to her hole and back again. In the dark, there was nothing but the soft sounds of their breathing and the deliciousness of his touch. His tongue was so hot. Sophie thought there was magic in this man’s touch, in his kisses, in his taste and scent and knew he was dangerous beyond belief. Should they continue this pleasure she hadn’t a doubt she’d soon lose her heart to the man. Sophie shrugged aside the notion knowing this couldn’t and wouldn’t happen again.

  * * * *

  When he woke up again, he was alone. A note on her pillow read, “Sorry, I had to open the store. You looked so tired, I let you sleep. There’s coffee. Lock the door behind you when you leave.”

  * * * *

  Three nights later, Sophie had a dream.

  He was close. So close she could feel his breath. She tried to see, only she couldn’t. It was so dark. Her heart pounded in her thin chest. It was so hard to breathe. Hot. It was so hot, and he was so heavy. She whimpered her fear. She wouldn’t call out or cry. He hit her when she made too much noise. And when he hit her, it took a long time before he stopped. He hurt her bad. Every time, he climbed on her he hurt her again. Mommy was going to be so mad at him.

  Sophie jumped, her mind wide awake, her body gasping for every breath. God, but she hated these dreams. Hated them more than she could say. There was more. She knew there was more, only she couldn’t at the moment remember every nuance, every sound and wasn’t happy about remembering the things she did. Sophie came from the bed and sat in her bedroom chair. Her heart was pounding. She had to calm down. She had to think. Before the worst of it faded, she had to write down all she could. With a paper and pen in hand, she
wrote. Every feeling, every sound, every smell. She couldn’t imagine where she’d been. Where could it be? It was so dark and it smelled so bad.

  Sophie closed her eyes and allowed the memory to come. The weight of him, the smell. He was abusing a child. Where were they?

  The sound of a not too distant train. It came closer. Closer. The vibration of it rattled the floor. They were on the floor. She could feel it tremble under her back, all around her. He shut the door. Tight. It was so tight, so hot in here. So dark. Sophie touched the floor at her side and felt a shoe, a sneaker she thought. A smelly sneaker. She reached above her head. Something hung there. Clothes. She was in a closet. God, how would Sophie help this little girl? She was locked in a closet, and Sophie didn’t know where.

  She reached for the phone beside her bed and dialled. “Jake,” she said, after two rings. “Is another girl missing? Someone around five or maybe six years old?”

  “Shit,” he muttered in disgust.

  “No, she’s not dead.”

  Jake sighed his relief. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. He has her in a closet. It’s dark and hot. I don’t know where it is.”

  “I talked to the guy you picked out from the pictures. I described the one we’re looking for. Says he knows him by sight, but doesn’t know his name. He came in to look at mug shots but no luck. Said he used to see this guy at O’Grady’s over on 6th.”

  Sophie knew the place. Knew it was a hang out for bikers. She frowned. He didn’t look like a biker. No leather, no chains. She hadn’t seen a bike. Still she asked, “Is he a biker?”

  “He doesn’t think so. Just likes to hang with them, maybe works on bikes. I canvassed the local shops but found nothing.” Jake took a deep drag on a cigarette. She could hear him blow the smoke out as he added, “The biker hasn’t seen him for awhile. Doesn’t know if he’s still in town.”

  “I think he is,” she said. “I can’t tell you why, I just do. I heard a train. He’s close to tracks. I’ll keep trying.”

  “Me too,” he returned and broke the connection.

  Sophie was afraid to go back to sleep. Instead, she showered and dressed for work.