Inner Circle (13 page)

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Authors: Charles Arnold

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Inner Circle
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She stared at it for a full minute. She could feel her heart pounding and her nipples stiffen. She placed her hands under his cock and looking up into his pig eyes she said, “I, Ms. Kathy Ryan, feel honored to kiss the prick of my lover, Simon Ruben.”

She lowered her head to its ugly tip and pressed her slightly parted lips against it. With the touch of her lips it began to swell and pulse in her hands. It was so thick, so heavy, almost alive between her hands. He kept her there like that for a full minute. “Now,” he said, “lovingly.”

She slid the tip of her tongue between her parted lips through the bunched folds of his foreskin to the slit at the head of his prick. As she moved her tongue back and forth along its length, her breathing became quicker and she made a sound deep inside that was part groan part whimper. The desire to open her mouth wide and take his monstrous cock in it was overwhelming. He sensed it and smiled to himself, “That’s enough, Mrs. Ryan,” he said.

She looked up at him, her eyes misty, her lips wet. He removed her hands from his cock. “I intend to keep my promise. Do you still wish me to go?” he asked.

Unable to answer, she rose unsteadily. She turned away from him toward the door. She stood there staring at it for several moments. Then she turned back and crossed to the small table. Before she began to apply the lipstick, he said, “You will beg to suck me. First, you will carefully apply your make-up. Then, you will get to your knees before me, here in your own bedroom, Mrs. Ryan. You will beg to suck the cock of your lover, Simon Ruben?” It was a question.

She put down the lipstick and stared at her image in the mirror. Hating herself more at that moment than she ever had before, she said, “On my knees, here in my own bedroom, I will beg to suck the cock of my lover Simon Ruben.” She saw in the face that looked back at her the self-loathing, the absolute disgust. How had he known what even she didn’t know? He had given her a way out. He’d offered to leave. Now, she was sitting at the table where she’d made herself pretty for Jeff. Simon Ruben was cruel. He’d become wealthy at the expense of the poor. He’d used his power to destroy good people, including her dear husband. He was a self-important arrogant degenerate. He was ugly, and fat, and old. He smelled of sweat and stale urine…Her hand shook as she picked up the tube of bright red lipstick.

From his chair across the room Ruben said, “What are you doing, Mrs. Ryan?”

“I…I’m fixing my lips.”

“I can see that, but why? And perhaps you will answer in a way that you might respond to a lover.”

She put down the tube, but didn’t turn away from the mirror. She needed to see herself say the words. “I’m hoping that you will accept me. I want very much to be beautiful for my new lover. I would like you, dear Simon, to approve.”

“To find your mouth worthy perhaps?”

“Yes, to find my mouth…my…my lips worthy.”

“Of what?”

In the mirror she saw that her cheeks had reddened and her eyes had changed, become less bright, softer. “Worthy of you. Worthy of your cock.” She looked down at the cosmetics spread out on the table, then up again at her reflection in the mirror. “I want you to desire me. I wish to be beautiful for you.”

“And are you pleased to be naked before me? Does it give you pleasure to display your young body to Simon Ruben?’

Sitting straight, her shoulders back, she half turned to face him. “Yes, I like being naked for you. I want you to look at me, look at me like this, naked, and know that now my naked body belongs to you. I want you to...to take me. I…I...want you to be pleased that I am your woman…your lover.”

He smiled slightly, “Yes, a change has occurred, hasn’t it? There’s no longer any need for threats, is there? We are lovers now, aren’t we, Mrs. Ryan? In private and in public.”

The idea of being the lover of this gross, old, sadist was impossible to accept. She bowed her head and took a deep breath before looking up at him, “Yes, Simon, you are right. I don’t understand why or how, but there’s been a change…I…I’m sure it comes from my training at the Facility.” She turned directly toward him, the fat, old pervert, mocking her. “When I think of who you are, when I look at you, when I look at your great thick cock I…I…feel…I feel.” She couldn’t finish. A shudder went through her body. She glanced away for a moment then back, “We will be lovers, Simon, both in private and in public. If…if you will have me, then you and I will be lovers.”

“Did you ever suck your husband off in this room?”

“No never. Not anywhere.”

“But your wish now is to kneel before me, to take my prick into your pretty mouth. You want very much to give me pleasure, want very much to suck me?”

“Yes…yes.” She continued to look across at him. His grossly fat body was damp with sweat. He sprawled in the chair, his distended belly like a pale balloon, his ponderous legs splayed open, his thick cock flaccid, his heavy testicles sagging now and wrinkled, his wide bare feet and thick crusted toenails, his heavy lidded eyes staring at her, confident and mocking. His naked presence here defiled everything she treasured. He waited. She bowed her head and repeated, “Yes, I want to suck you.” She looked up, “I can’t begin to explain it, but I want to kneel at your feet. I want you to watch me suck you.”

“But you are anxious to do more than simply suck the prick of Simon Ruben. Isn’t that so?”

She could feel the warm secretions begin to ooze from her pussy. Before answering him, she turned back to the mirror. She leaned closer to it and exaggerated the fullness of her lips with the bright red lipstick. She imagined how they would appear to him as she kissed the tip of his prick; how her red lips would look as they slid over the head of his prick and took it into her mouth. She then coated her lips with the oily gloss. She turned toward him again, “Yes, dear Simon, I want to do more than suck your prick. I want to get on my knees and make love to it. I want to kiss it…to kiss it everywhere over and over, and lick it for a very long time.”

“I have not threatened you?”

“No, you have not forced me in any way. I have chosen freely. I want to kneel at the bare feet of Simon Ruben here in my bedroom and make love to his prick.”

“Before you get on your knees, you are to stand here in front of me.” He gestured toward her, “Come to your lover, Mrs. Ryan, walk proud, head up, shoulders back, tits thrust forward.”

She crossed to him as he’d instructed. She stopped in front of him, her hands at her sides. She could feel her heart pounding and struggled to keep her legs from trembling. It seemed insane that she should want him to approve of her. She glanced at him hoping to see that he was pleased. His sweat streaked face remained passive. She squared her shoulders thrusting her breasts forward. She hesitated before speaking, “I…I’ve…come to my lover,” she said.

He nodded, “Yes, my dear, that’s how you are to come to me always.” He made her stand naked before him for several minutes while he appraised her carefully. “I must say, Mrs. Ryan, I shall never tire of looking at your splendid body and delighting in the knowledge that you now belong to me. A year ago I simply touched you on the dance floor of the Country Club and you tried to ruin me for it. Now, I can run my hands over your body whenever I wish. I can play with your tits and twist your delightfully long nipples. I can push my fingers into your openings. I can take the whip to your fine ass. Your lovely young face is mine too. Your mouth, your lips, your tongue. Your kisses will be only for me. And you will kiss me everywhere and lick me in those places you know will give me pleasure. Are these things not true? You are mine aren’t you? The young, beautiful and haughty Mrs. Ryan is now Simon Ruben’s woman.”

The humiliation of standing naked before him here in her own bedroom and feeling his lecherous eyes burn into her caused her to blush furiously and she could feel the warm pink color spread down over her breasts. And there were his words describing how completely he owned her. She looked down at his pale bloated body, his dark sagging cheeks, the few strands of his slicked back hair, his spittle flecked lips, his bulging frog-eyes. Something had happened. It had been happening all evening. She had fought against it but gradually a change had occurred which she could neither explain nor accept. They both felt it. “Yes, Simon, what you say is true. My body is yours. I am your woman.” She turned and slowly looked around the bedroom noting the paintings she and Jeff had chosen, the bedspread and matching drapes, the dressers. In the corner were their tennis racquets, his clothes still hung in their closet. Sadly she turned back to Ruben, “It’s possible I’ve always been your woman.” She stepped closer and reached out to touch his face, “I belong to you, Simon Ruben. I know that now and so do you.”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He smiled slightly, “Of course you do, Mrs. Ryan. The past is past. Your husband is dead. He was never really the right husband for you, was he?”

She straightened up and stepped back. “Yes, he was and I loved him as deeply as a woman can love a man. That will never change. But you are right about the past. It’s gone. As a young girl when I was falling in love with Jeff there was this other thing, something I didn’t quite understand and never spoke of.”

Ruben nodded, “And this other thing as you call it? What might that have been?”

“I think you know. When I was a teenager and you caught my eye, you saw it. When I was a college student and later, a new wife we would sometimes pass each other on the street or be in a restaurant at the same time, and always at the Country Club pool and social functions, I could feel your eyes on me and, much as I tried to avoid looking at you I found myself turning to see you. Much as I tried to prevent these…these feelings of…of…fear coupled with a strange excitement, I couldn’t.” She paused. “Then last year when you made me dance with you and touched me I felt horribly violated but at the same time wanting more, wanting you to do things to me.”

He leaned back in the chair looking up at her, “Yes, Mrs. Ryan, even when you were a little Lolita, I knew. It was the way you would look at me frightened, then glance away, but quickly look back and in that second look there was always an invitation. I’m sure you weren’t conscious of it then. But last year on the dance floor you knew and you were aware that I realized you knew.”

She nodded, “That’s right, Simon. I went back to the table trembling. I had trouble sleeping. I was terribly confused. Perhaps I wanted something unimaginable; perhaps I wanted to suffer and enjoy suffering. There was a moment several weeks later when I looked up your number in the phone book. I stared at it and closed my eyes and remembered your hands on me. I touched myself, Simon. I masturbated and orgasmed quickly.”

He took her arm and drew her down to sit on his lap. He fondled her breasts. “Your tits are beautiful,” he said, “smooth, firm, and pale.” His hands brushed over her nipples, “Young white breasts with long pink nipples. They are for me now, aren’t they?”

She nodded. She looked down at his wrinkled hands and noticed the black hairs on the back of his fat fingers. The sight of them squeezing her breasts repulsed her. “Yes, Simon, they are now for you.”

“You will always wear blouses or tight sweaters of thin material that reveals your breasts to me. You will invite me to fondle them. Your lovely nipples will stiffen at my touch as they do now.”

Between the thumb and finger of his left hand, he toyed with her nipple. She placed her hands over his, “I want this, Simon. I want you to possess me completely.”

“At night, Mrs. Ryan, in our bed you will press your naked body against me. I will simply lay there. You will do your best to arouse me. Soft kisses, words of love. Your delicate little fingers will be touching and stroking me.”

She leaned close and touched his ear with the tip of her tongue. She whispered, “I belong to you.”

“I’ll feel your lips on me, your tongue tasting me, your hard nipples brushing my chest, your tiny perfect feet rubbing up and down my legs. I’ll hear you pleading for me to fuck you. Whispering, begging to suck my prick... And when I fuck you or when you’re sucking me, you will moan with pleasure. Yes? Tell me. Tell your lover how it will be.”

Her arm was around his neck. She pressed his hand tight against her breast. She felt her breath come quickly, and her heart pound in her chest, “It will be just as you say, dear Simon. I will rub my feet against your feet and legs. I will kiss your lips and taste your mouth…and…and I will lick wherever you wish. I will press my naked body against yours. I will beg for your cock.”

“And if I give you permission…?”

“In your great bed, I will kneel between your legs and make love to your cock, slowly, kissing, licking and teasing. My lips will be warm for you, dear Simon, and my mouth will be wet. I’ll lick your balls for a long time and gently suck them into my mouth. I’ll slide your cock into my mouth. I’ll train myself to take all of your huge cock, all of it. I’ll suck, I’ll suck lovingly, Simon, you’ll know, you’ll feel it. You’ll feel the loving way my lips and tongue caress your huge prick. When you cum in my mouth I’ll moan with pleasure.”

“And afterwards?” he questioned.

“Any time during the night and in the morning, I’ll be ready to make love to you.” She saw that he was waiting for more. Without smiling she looked steadily at him, “When we are out in public I will always look good for you, wear revealing clothes, and it will be obvious that I have nothing under whatever I wear. High heels, Simon, very high heels and bare legs. I’ll dress so that wherever we go men will want me. They will envy you, Simon. I want men both young and old to envy you. I will always be very affectionate; touching you, kissing you, looking only at you. Men will see that I respect and admire you. They will know by the things I do and say that I…that I…adore you.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Yes, Simon, perhaps ‘love’ isn’t the right word. The right word is adoration.”

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