In a suit, Paxton had a way of seeming like he was standing, even when he was sitting down. Maybe it was the way he had of appearing to own the space around him wherever he happened to be.
It seemed as if he’d already been there some time when Sakura entered the restaurant. He was comfortably situated at a corner table with his back to the wall. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, and the large, open dining room was sparsely populated.
His eyes were on her from the moment she stepped in, as if he’d been watching the door and waiting for her to walk through it. She was wearing the dress he’d asked for in the text he’d sent inviting her to meet him. It was Elizabeth’s. It felt strange to be wearing her clothes, yet there was something about it she liked but couldn’t explain.
It was a simple wrap dress in a deep burgundy she would never have chosen to wear on her own, but she found herself enjoying the way it contrasted with the lightness of her skin. Even though it draped more naturally over Elizabeth’s slender body, Sakura didn’t feel as confined or so brashly exposed as she had in the outfit chosen for her the day before. It was easier to move in the wrap despite the way her hips and breasts pushed the softly sensuous fabric beyond its intended limits.
Elizabeth had urged her to forego wearing a bra, claiming it would spoil the effect. The coed wore nothing underneath but a viciously snug pair of blue lace panties that made her constantly aware of herself. And along with the lace-topped thighs highs the blonde had given her, she felt as if she’d been packaged.
As she approached the table – approached him – she was painfully conscious of the heave and sway of her breasts as she walked. The neckline of the dress revealed a mere suggestion of her ripe cleavage, but it did nothing to restrict the unruly motion of her conspicuous mounds. His eyes were on her with every step, a sense of entitlement without apology in his open gaze.
The table was large enough for a party of four or five, but there was only one other seat and place setting on it, set close to Paxton’s right side. There was already an open bottle of wine, and the glass in his place was half filled. He stood graciously when she reached him, pulling out the empty chair for her to sit down.
“Thank you for coming,” he said as he sat back down, as if she’d had a choice in the matter.
But this had never been intended to be about the meal. Places like this were never merely about food or any of the simple kinds of hunger.
“You look truly stunning,” he added, openly appraising her. “It reminds me how it’s already been two months since you arrived, and we’ve neglected to take you wardrobe shopping.”
She had the distinct suspicion he was only pretending to be thinking of this for the first time just now. The more she learned about him, the more convinced she was that his mind was every bit as sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel. Careless mistakes simply weren’t part of his emotional constitution. At the same time, she realized this was the first time she been alone with him. It was enough to make her pulse work noticeably harder than normal, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of having been granted a rare audience.
She nodded by way of acknowledging him and accepting his compliment even though she didn’t entirely believe him.
“I remember how much you enjoyed shark back in Nagasaki,” he said. “So I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it very much.”
He poured wine into her glass.
“Anyone who tells you it’s necessary to drink white wine with fish is a helpless lamb and ought to be penned up in a barn.” He offered a wry smile.
She returned his smile and almost felt at ease meeting his eyes as she lifted the glass to sip.
He sat back a moment in his chair and fell into a brief moment of serious thought. She waited, knowing he had something to say. She had nothing but the conversation with herself that had been running through her mind since the moment she boarded the plane.
His normally chiseled features softened slightly as he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine. Then he leaned forward and pinned his gaze on Sakura. His dark brown hair was cropped meticulously close, and his even darker eyes displayed a sense of warmth and caring the girl had never seen before.
“Now that things seem to be getting…deeper…I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. I realize you didn’t know exactly what to expect, and quite honestly, neither did we.”
When he paused, Sakura waited to see if there was going to be a direct question. She was good at waiting. It was one thing she was pretty sure she could do as well as he. But she clearly understood how complex the implicit question was. The answer felt even more complex, and she wasn’t sure she had a glimmer of understanding of it. It would be like trying to describe the taste of something to someone who'd never eaten it before.
The concern on his face seemed almost profound as he gazed back at her. Studying her. She lowered her eyes.
“It’s not a trick question,” he said. “Not part of any game. This is an important time to speak freely. To speak from your heart.”
After the paces she’d been put through by both his wife and him, his tone and concern struck her with an intimacy she hadn’t expected.
“If this is a conversation you’d feel better having with Elizabeth I’d understand.”
She clamped the stem of her wine glass between her index finger and thumb, locking her gaze there until finally lifting her face and shaking her head.
“That won’t be necessary.”
As she watched his face and eyes transform with genuine concern, she didn’t know how to reconcile the man sitting beside her with the one who’d thrust and released his cock in her mouth merely inches in front of his wife’s face the night before. Her tongue recalled his taste - pure, stark sense memory - and she didn’t know how she could voice her inner thoughts and feelings. Devouring his cum was a much simpler thing. Straight-forward and clear. But she knew it was time to speak, and knew just as well she wanted to.
Then the waiter came to serve the shark.
When he was gone, Paxton made a suggestion.
“If you were writing a letter to a close friend, say a trusted confidante back home, what would you tell them about your time with us so far?”
“Oh, I know of no one I could tell such things.”
“Have you ever kept a diary?” he asked after a momentary pause. “A journal of your thoughts and experiences?”
The young woman smiled and nodded, but she took some time thinking, teasing at the slab of shark on her plate with a fork.
“Dear Diary, it would say,” she began with a shallow sigh. “I have come to live in the mythical land of dreams, and it appears to be a land of both dreams and nightmares. It reminds me of the time visiting Tokyo. Do you remember what the funny old man in the kiosk said? ‘Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear.’
“I am here at the invitation of the most curious couple, and by their generosity, I will soon begin the college education I have always desired. Yet this is not the reason I have come to be with this most remarkable pair. They are a rare kind of couple who know the deepest love. It’s as if their love is so immense they wish to bring another close enough to lavish their feelings upon.
“And this, my faithful diary, is how I have come to know them. I don’t fully understand why I was chosen for this. Perhaps because I am a rare virgin filled with twisted and beautiful dreams of my own, and the beast who lives inside the cultured man – as always there is a beast living in the hearts of cultured men – burns to defile me with the dark secret of love.
“But no. This is not the reason, either. It is all of this and none.
“The lady and her husband are people who walk very close to the edge of desire and disaster. In their presence I have felt shocked, delighted, ashamed…and beyond myself with pleasures I’ve never imagined. They have pressed me into the service of their strange lusts without mercy, at times even waking me from sound sleep, only to treat me as a vessel to serve pleasures I do not always understand. And yet there is always an aura of caring and love that seems to protect us all.
“So even if I am still striving to understand their strange and thrilling world of roses and thorns, I grow more devoted to each of them daily, growing more devoted as well to my own feelings of fear and affection.
“I do remain confident the day will come this remarkable man will deem me worthy of being taken, to be ruined and exalted in the same stroke. For I have concluded he is worthy of ending this lamentable condition of my abstinence. I know he will do this only with the sweet blessing of his beautiful wife, and that each of us will learn something of love we have never imagined possible.
“So, faithful diary, although I find myself trembling as much with fear and shame as with deeply curious desire, it is my heart’s true wish to remain on this path of mystery. What is a mystery, after all? Nothing more than an ending which becomes a beginning, simple and mindless as crossing any street.”
Sakura’s pulse was racing by the time she finished. She was breathless, realizing it was the most she’d spoken to anyone since she left Nagasaki. Looking down, she discovered the shark on her plate was in shreds as she continued playing at it with her fork. She had yet to taste a bit of it.
Paxton sat in silence a long time. His eyes were trained on her steadily. The girl had never seen them glisten as they did just then. He reached for her hand, but then changed his mind and touched her face. He leaned forward and kissed the corner of her mouth sweetly. The young woman knew the man had a profound capacity for tenderness, but she never imagined him expressing it exactly that way.
His lips caught the barest edge of hers while his breath washed lightly across her cheek. His hand moved from her cheek to her neck. Light prickles of electricity warmed her just beneath the surface of her skin as his lips lingered a moment. Then lingered another. Her nipples were quickly coming to life.
“You are the truest kind of blossom,” he told her, pausing to kiss a slightly larger portion of her mouth. “We knew, both of us, that you’d bring so much into our lives. Please be honest with us always. We want you to be happy, and I promise you will always be protected.”
She started to say “yes”, but Paxton kissed her full on the lips, his tongue barely grazing them as he pulled away and sat back again.
“You’ve barely touched your lunch,” he observed with a smile.
Her plate was a pulpy mess. She was on the verge of laughing at herself, but she didn’t. She realized the only other patrons had left when she spotted the maître d’ locking the door. After, he turned and exchanged a subtle nod with Paxton from across the room.
The coed felt the back of her neck flush with nervous heat. Paxton signaled him over and asked him to have the waiter bring Sakura another piece of shark. After he left, the girl’s host slipped his hand under the tablecloth and found her bare thigh just beneath the hem of her dress.
She braced herself and decided she wasn’t going to flinch no matter what happened. He squeezed her thigh and moved his hand higher.
“How did you like sleeping with my wife?” The warmth and tenderness he’d shown earlier had gone into hiding. He now sounded more like the man she was rapidly growing accustomed to.
“It was…nice enough.” She averted her eyes, avoiding his. Honesty would come more easily that way.
Paxton uttered a half chuckle. “Nice enough,” he repeated. “Her body felt warm and sleek.”
“Yes.” She nodded, eyes on the table. She took a long, slow hit on her wine. His fingers kneaded deeper and higher on her thigh while the dress unwrapped below the sash keeping the upper half closed. By now, her nipples formed unsightly points in the sensuous fabric.
“You held each other close as you drifted off to sleep? All that soft skin against soft skin?”
“Yes.” The memory of Elizabeth’s warmth and the sinewy softness of her lean body was palpable. The coed’s pussy warmed as much for the images replaying in her mind as the large, warm hand creeping up her thigh.
“My wife is very talented. Versatile, one might say.”
“Yes, sir. Versatile.”
His fingers slid over the tight casing of lace cupping her pussy. She was thankful the place was empty as her lips flushed and responded. Had these people brought her halfway around the world simply to turn her into a shame-faced slave to the crying hunger in her own core?
“I assume she showed you a satisfying demonstration in how to use the toy,” he said.
It wasn’t a statement but a cue, and as much as she could barely bring herself to say what happened aloud, she was just as resolved not to make him feed her another.
His fingers slipped under her panties, raking over the blossoming folds of her slit.
“Yes,” she finally replied, forcing herself to breathe evenly against the delirious assault of his fingers over her throbbing sex lips.
This is what a flower feels like when it opens, she told her own mind.
Even though she was spared the embarrassment of being fingered there with other patrons sitting in the room, she couldn’t forget there were still the staff never too far away.
Paxton turned part way in his seat and pushed the tablecloth away from her lap. With her wrap parted as it was, her inner thighs were exposed all the way to the lace panties and nimble fingers pushing them aside. His touch was more like his wife’s than Rafe’s, which surprised the helpless coed at first, but as she thought about it more it began to make sense.
Rafe had touched her like an unrelenting machine, as if forcing the sensations from her body. Like his wife, Paxton’s fingers moved in a graceful slide, forcing nothing. Coaxing. Calling the pleasure up from her skin. She realized this man was so sexually in tune with his wife that he would have carefully studied the way she touched herself, learning her pleasure like a language they would only speak in each other's presence.
But his fingers were larger and stronger than his wife’s. He was a man, after all, and behind his touch there was the feeling of an anxious horse waiting to be let out of the gate.
“Tell me,” he said. Simple and impossible to refuse.
“After you left,” the young woman began, “I released your wife from her bonds. She picked up that…toy…and led me to the futon. She asked me to kneel and remove her thong before she lay down. And of course I did.”
Paxton’s fingers were searching more deeply, slipping between her lips and exploring the wet maw of her entrance.
“She kissed me,” the coed went on. “It was the hardest and deepest kiss she ever gave me. She didn’t say, but I knew it was because your taste was fresh in my mouth.”
He smiled, his expression pleased yet expecting more. His middle finger slipped inside her and curled, bringing a soft gasp up from her delicate throat.
With Paxton’s finger making those curling sweeps up inside her she thought there was nothing she wouldn’t say. She almost began to forget she was sitting at a restaurant table, but remembering how the maître d’ had locked the door gave her strength. She arched lower on her seat, giving the man freer access to her pussy.
“She kissed my body,” Sakura confessed. “God…her lips were so soft and moist. I have seen her kiss you the same way. When she began making love…I mean…to my…pussy…I would have happily taken my joy simply against her mouth and tongue. I had almost forgotten about the toy, but suddenly it was going inside me.”
The waiter came with the other shark steak Paxton had ordered. Sakura had all but forgotten he’d done so. She trained her eyes on the man with his finger in her pussy while the waiter took his time exchanging plates, rearranging the silverware and glasses. There was a faint smile on Paxton’s face as his eyes drifted to the waiter and back to Sakura.
“And how did it feel?” he asked pointedly.
She knew he was trying to make her speak in front of the waiter. She could even feel the waiter’s strange eyes on her. From the time the maître d’ locked the door, she suspected this place was like the salon Elizabeth had taken her to, and she wondered how many such places they’d arranged such privileges for themselves.
“Exquisite,” she said, feeling as if the word were strangling her in the waiter’s presence. “Never so…full. The thing…opened inside me. Thought I was going to faint at first. But finally…all I could imagine was the feel of real flesh. That…heat…of someone’s body…their flesh.”
Paxton’s finger swept inward and curled…swept inward and curled. His thumb gnashed onto her clit.
The waiter had finished his work, but Sakura felt him there. Pausing. She didn’t dare turn her head to look at him. Keeping her eyes on her benefactor’s face, she wondered if the waiter grew hard as he stood there watching.
“Do you still feel like a virgin?”
The coed felt her face burn, and she could only imagine the striking shade of red that must have been flushing her features. She wished the waiter would walk away, but knew it was too much to hope. The man’s dark, burning eyes never left her face. The waiter was somewhere behind and off to the side. She could only imagine how much he could see.
As she drew a deep breath to steel herself to reply, Paxton cut her off before she could form a word.
“Take out your tits,” he told her.
The demand left her disoriented, as if she’d just been blindfolded and spun around in circles…the center of a childish party game. Concentrating on the motion of his finger, the grind and gnash of his thumb, she reached for the sash and untied it. She pulled the sides of the dress open, revealing all of herself but the shoulders.
“Play,” he said. His voice sounded lost somewhere in the zone between a hiss and a growl.
She closed her eyes and cupped her breasts in her hands, fondling and kneading her flesh.
The waiter could surely see her terrible nipples, but her fingers found them. Twisting and rolling. Pinching hard as she flushed against Paxton’s hand.
“Answer the question.” His voice curled around her head like opium smoke, but the question felt a century old by now.
“I…uhh…”
“Do you still feel like a virgin,” he repeated. “Even after she fucked you with that toy?”
Again, she took a breath to reply. Paxton. The waiter. She was open as any sunrise, yet she felt like a dark, paltry thing full of celestial intentions.
“I am a virgin,” she proclaimed. Pride danced with shame under the shadow of her heart. “I remain one until I know the body of a man lunging into this cradle between my thighs.”
There was an undetermined silence. It could’ve been seconds or minutes. Nothing but the constant shove and sweep of Paxton’s finger. Then she could feel her chair being turned. It moved too easily for it to be the effort of one man alone. And with Paxton’s finger never leaving the snug comfort of her pussy, she knew the waiter had to be helping.
Paxton himself was shifting along with the chair. By the time everything settled into a new position, his arm was draping over her body from behind, and his finger continued its sweeping thrusts from a new angle.
“Open your eyes,” he told her, his voice now beside her ear. “Don’t shut out these moments of your life.”
It took a moment to brace herself, but Sakura finally opened her eyes. She wasn’t surprised to find the waiter standing little more than an arm’s length in front of her. He met her eyes for just a moment, but then his gaze kept roaming, as if it couldn’t decide where to settle.
Paxton slid a second finger into her pussy and reached for her left leg with his free hand, pulling her thigh further to the side, opening her like a curtain to the silent waiter.
“Now move the other leg,” he said. “Spread it just as wide as the first.”
She hesitated, sure her heart had never pounded so hard in her life, but in the end she bit her supple bottom lip and did as she was told.
The younger man stood there simply paying attention as if he were waiting to see if someone’s wine glass needed refilling…except for the intent glisten in his dark eyes and the rampant bulge forming in the front of his trousers. Sakura wished Elizabeth were there to take his attention away. Beside Elizabeth, she’d be able to indulge herself in the illusion of disappearing within the blonde’s aura of sensuous confidence, to hide behind another woman's veil of protection.
In the other woman’s absence, Sakura focused on the dress as if it were imbued with some kind of power to guide her. In these moments, she resolved to break out of her natural shame. And as the notion settled deeper in her mind, she decided shame wasn’t a natural thing at all. It was nothing but a hateful burden lain over her delicate shoulders by circumstance.
“Many people admire you,” Paxton told her, his sliding fingers underscoring the rhythm of his words. “The multitude of them you’d never even notice as they pause to watch you come or go through a doorway, or lean over to choose a piece of fruit in the market. They’ll move on and remember…maybe for a few seconds…maybe for days or even years, while you, most times, never even know they were ever there.
“But so few will ever have the pleasure to see you in your rawest, most elegant form – like Carlo here. Go deep inside – as deep as you can – and ask yourself if you want to walk away from this experience having given only a shred of what you really are.”
Sakura had no more than a vague idea of what she was or what she had to show anyone like Paxton or his wife…or Rafe and Carlo, for that matter. It was always easier to look at others than at herself. It was the same with trust, and she decided in the moment to place her trust in the man behind her with all his strange hungers and demands.
But her trust was as much in the close sound of a voice and a pair of fingers.
“Don’t let Carlo’s presence distract you from my touch. Don’t let my touch distract you from him.”
The man’s left hand slipped over her exposed breast and began kneading her. The fingers in her pussy never let up their curling strokes, keeping a steady rhythm but altering the speed every several thrusts or so. The coed filled her body with breath, bracing her spirit as she was fully aware of the way her breasts arched outward toward Carlo.
The strange logic of Paxton’s words began to settle on her as if the idea were simple. She allowed herself to gaze back as openly at the waiter as he was at her. The misshapen bulge in his pants seemed full and even painful. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for a man at a time like this when the very center of his body becomes like an uncontrolled animal trapped in too small a cage.
She remembered the voracious bulge in Rafe’s jeans almost exactly twenty-four hours ago, and how the curiosity to see and touch that hardness had played on her mind. Now she found herself aching to see Carlo release and reveal his cock, but she understood there had to have been some agreement struck with Paxton. The waiter would never expose himself to her without the other man’s sanction.
Her hand lifted and clutched at her right breast, kneading herself while her host massaged the other. When he began to roll and manipulate her swollen nipple, she followed his gestures. The waiter’s hand drifted over the ripe bulge in his pants.
Please, please just take it out! she begged in the unquiet silence of her mind.
“If you want him to show you – to let you see what you’re doing to him – you must ask clearly. Tell him exactly what you want.”
Sakura wasn’t sure if she might have actually said the words aloud or if Paxton were reading her mind. Each seemed as plausible as the other.
It was easy enough to see how badly Carlo was aching to release his cock. The coed’s desire to indulge her curiosity was surely just as strong, but she was just as sure there was something expected of her. The right choice. Right behavior. Yet there was also a blazing current of heat running the circuit through her body between her nipples and pussy, and Paxton had put it there.
“Please…please…just take it out.”
The moment seemed poised on the precipice of itself as Carlo’s fingers pinched the tab his zipper and began to pull it down. He opened his belt and the top of his pants, then pushed the waist of his briefs down to reveal his rich, swollen cock. His hand curled around the shaft and he started to stroke himself.
“See how easy that was?” Paxton said quietly. “Now tell us what happened next, after my wife finished fucking you with her toy.”
And while there was no apparent humor in his tone, she could hear the devious snicker that had to be echoing in his mind.
As she watched the hypnotic see-saw of Carlo’s hand along his cock, she began seeing the toy in her mind she and the blonde had used on each other the night before.
“When she pulled that…thing…from my pussy she put it to her lips and tasted it. Tasted…me. I was dazed from everything she made me feel, so I just watched her and tried to breathe. She licked at the thing, ran her lips over its surface and coated her lips with the juices covering it. She told me I tasted sweet, smiled at me with so much affection, then she handed me the toy and told me to make her cum.
“It was still humming. Vibrating in my hand as I sat up and took it from her. I was fascinated, hardly realizing how eager I was to use the device on her body. To give what I had just been given. But I paused to lick it first. It’s not as if I have never tasted myself, but I wanted to see if I could taste the sweetness in myself she claimed. I couldn’t. To me, my nectar was the same, tangy sap of the dirty girl I become at such times.
“But I liked it, and I think that is what made me want to make the beautiful lady cum all the harder.”
Carlo’s cock was oozing and beginning to shine as his pumping fist made audible slicking noises. Sakura could hear his breathing now, mixing with Paxton’s as he ground his fingers harder into her pussy. She felt herself expand and contract, the sequence of events she was describing driving the speed of her pulse every bit as hard as her benefactor’s hands.
“She lay back and opened her legs so wide. She was already so wet. Glistening in the light. The mere color of her pussy made me want to taste her, but I felt she was waiting for something else, so I placed the vibrating toy against her slit.
“I wasn’t so adept at pinching the two ends together and pushing it into her hole as she’d done to me. The two ends, so much like the petals of an obscene flower, separated as I pushed it harder. One slipped against her clit while the other against her lips. She moaned and arched her back. Oh, how beautiful her breasts looked. I wanted so much to suckle them, but I was enrapt by the sight of those two, tongue-like flaps grinding against her pussy.
“I pushed it harder, and she moaned more deeply, grabbing at the sheets to each side. I felt a kind of power inside me, and when she begged me to kiss her I did so without hesitation.
“She kissed me with so much hunger. The way she kisses you.” She turned her head slightly by way of nodding to Paxton. “And there was so much caring, but not the love…that deep, unfathomable love she has for you.”
Telling them in English was easier than in her native Japanese. It provided a veil of separation between herself and what she was saying. And as she felt herself rising to her crest, she thought she could tell anyone anything.
“We kissed and I kept the toy against her as she came. I think she must have cum so many times. I don’t know. I was drowning in her kisses and became consumed with devouring the passion flowing from her.
“She…she….”
Suddenly Carlo groaned and started to cum. Some of his explosion landed in dollops of cream over her thighs. She arched against the chair while Paxton’s hands grew rougher and lost their grace. A kind of oblivion swarmed around her as she felt transported into Elizabeth’s body in the moments she had just described.
She ceased to be Sakura sitting on a chair in an empty restaurant, but became Elizabeth, cumming with her entire body to the buzzing grind of that handheld toy.
By the time she opened her eyes, Carlo was already tucking his cock back in his pants and zipping himself up. He nodded, turned on his heel and left them alone.
Paxton’s hands became gentle again, but it was a long time before he let go of her. When he did, he walked around to the front of her chair and looked down at her. He extended his hand. She took it and let him help her to her feet. Then she wrapped the dress back around her body and tied the sash.
With the subtlest of smiles, Paxton offered his arm the old fashioned way. She placed her hand on the inner crook of his elbow and followed as he led her to the exit.
They sat quietly in the car a long time. The parking lot was empty except for the few cars that must have belonged to the staff. Sakura held her hands between her thighs and waited, relieved for the relative calm.
Paxton sat behind the steering wheel staring off through the windshield at things that weren’t there, lost in thoughts Sakura could only imagine. His erection still looked strong as it formed a prominent shape in his suit trousers. He’d been that way from the time they left their table all the way to the car. Without turning to look at her, he reached for her hand.
“Sometimes I think I’m almost afraid of you.” The statement broke the silence along with half a chuckle.
It was the last thing she expected to hear. A fissure in an otherwise unruffled façade, it also came with a measure of comfort. He was surely a man of many facets, and she was thankful for this glimpse into one of them, however brief it could turn out to be. Despite the sincerity of his tone, she didn’t believe him and tilted her head in question.
“Let’s say in awe,” he clarified.
She still found him hard to believe, although she wasn’t naïve enough to believe he would speak without reason. But she couldn’t help being a little in awe of herself as well. It seemed every time Paxton and Elizabeth revealed a new facet of themselves that surprised or even shocked her, she found herself just as stunned by her own responses. And however many ways there were to look at the situation, Paxton and Elizabeth were leaders while she was a follower. It was the simple of truth of the way they were all wired.
How does a leader ever find himself in awe of a follower?
“When we met you, I was convinced you had…capabilities. Immense, untapped capacities. I was just so sure. And so was Elizabeth, of course. Between us there was hardly a question. But to see you…blossom…to live up to your delicate, beautiful name…. It’s a beautiful thing. You’re a beautiful thing. And more fierce than you realize.”
Sakura couldn’t help uttering a giggle. It was Paxton’s turn to angle his head in question.
“I do not think I am anything fierce. Or even beautiful,” she explained.
Paxton smiled about as widely as she’d ever seen. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say. And a big part of what makes it true.”
He paused and retreated into his thoughts. His hand drifted over the hard cock distorting the shape of his trousers and took a firm squeeze of his shaft through the fabric.
As she watched the man fondle himself, she took a quick retreat into thoughts of her own. It struck her how out of the ordinary it must be for any such young woman to undergo so much contrived anticipation over obliterating her dreaded virginity. Certainly, there must be many like herself who knew who their first would be – who made the deliberate choices – but the ultimate undoing of a girl must usually be a spontaneous thing, an act of oblivious surrender in the heat of that kind of moment. Does any bud explode into blossom by choice?
Yet despite her name, despite the man or his wife’s endearments, she was not a flower. She was a human woman walking through the labyrinth of love and cloying desire. It seemed an odd thing to feel so much fear without a shred of apprehension.
She reached across the console and removed his hand from his cock, replacing it with her own, letting her palm and fingers explore his shape through his clothes. He took a firm hold on her wrist and stilled her hand but didn’t remove it. She hadn’t been sure about touching him without direct instruction, but she wanted to.
He belonged to Elizabeth, and that was as final as final would ever be. He would never belong to anyone else, but she, by gradually advancing degrees, would belong to them. At least for a time. And yet in the end, they would never belong to her.
She had chosen him for a purpose just as much as he and Elizabeth had chosen her, and she now realized she had chosen well. There would be no promise or expectation, simply…an experience no one would ever recover from.
It would be him. And he had made his decision about her even if he didn’t realize it yet. He’d told her he would need to find something in her to love. Perhaps this was as much for his wife as himself. And while she was sure of nothing in her mind, every cell in her skin was pure conviction.
She squeezed his cock. Gentle insistence. He took his hand off her wrist and his body relaxed.
“Sakura….” It was almost a sigh. “It’s important to me…us…to know how you are. How you’re feeling about everything that happens. It’s important to be sure you’re happy with…everything. Speak freely with me.”
While his words were sifting through her mind, she brought her other hand to his lap and unzipped his trousers. He reclined his seat slightly while she liberated his rigid cock and held both hands around his shaft. There was something graceful and yet so blunt in the form of his cock. He was hard to the point he seemed on the verge of bursting, with precum steadily oozing from the tip as she began to massage him.
It was easier to keep her eyes on his cock than his face.
“I understand how you care for me,” she told him, stroking slowly. “Both of you. I have been surprised…and even shocked and ashamed…of the things you have urged me to do, but I was never so naïve as to not expect as much. We all chose each other for our own reasons, and this is forgotten by no one, I assume.”
“Forgotten by no one,” he repeated, sighing.
She gripped the base of his shaft tightly, skimming the top hand over his head to spread his juices over his flesh. Her pussy began to warm all over again as she stroked him, and she wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the simplicity of manipulating his cock or the giddy rush that came with speaking her inner mind.
“You were the ones who could see my unhappiness living in so much fear and repression. You understood my desire for freedom. Passion. Even love. I am here because I trust you to make me happier, not comfortable…to help me become something new.”
She leaned over and licked at the head of his cock, scooping up his precum with her tongue. Then she held his dome inside her mouth and squeezed his shaft with her hands for a brief moment before sitting back upright.
“I know you will show me the love and honor you have for her. You will not give it to me as you do her, but you have already allowed me to experience such a life. In the end, I will know what I need…what I deserve, perhaps.”
He reached for her thigh, squeezing her while her hands made twisting strokes up and down his cock. His flesh was rigid as stone and burning up with heat. Sakura ached for him. As she felt the rigid contours of his prominent cock in her hands, it was as if her body were already anticipating the feel of his hard shaft pushing inside her.
“I hope you will choose to fuck me soon,” she confessed. “Please…put an end to my body’s incessant wondering.”
Paxton’s chest began to heave while he suddenly began fucking heatedly into Sakura’s double grip. Cum spumed heavily from his cock, soaking her hands and his pants with his gushing.
The coed kept stroking him long after the flow of his cum had stopped, until his solid shaft began to relax. He lay back against his seat, gradually bringing his breath back to normal while Sakura rearranged his cock back inside his pants.
He finally raised his seat and started the car. “Soon,” he promised.
As he drove out of the parking lot onto the street, there was a subtle smile on his face and a glint in his dark brown eyes. She’d seen that smile before. Every time he’d cum in her presence. In the moments after his release, it seemed as if he was already thinking of the next scene of her tortuously slow undoing.
