Sweet Convictions (16 page)

Around t
wenty minutes later she steps down and I’m still killing myself on the cross trainer—sweat dripping everywhere, my face redder than red and my legs are on fucking fire. As she turns around, she wipes her non-existent sweat droplets from her forehead. She’s hot and not in the steamy, over-worked way. She is beautiful and still looks like she could do another 4 hours on there. Not even a pant.

             
Ooh, what was that about?!
I feel my pussy twitch. As she finishes dabbing her face, the towel comes down and her eyes make contact with mine. She gives me a little smile as she climbs off and makes her way to the rowing machine.
Ah, friendly little thing ain’t ya?
I, of course smile back as I attempt to slow my unattractive wheezing to a dim and less embarrassing puff.

Hmm, the stepper or
the rowing machine? Stepper or the rower?
I head to the rower. And why shouldn’t I? I place my towel and water on the side, climb on and fasten my feet in. I wipe my glowing face, and as I look in the mirror in front of us and see Dreadlocks looking over at me.
Oh god, please face, calm the redness! I look ridiculous.
She smiles at me again as she rows back and forth. I look around in case she’s actually smiling at Mr Hot PT Dude standing nearby, but nope, he’s nowhere to be seen. It’s just me, myself and my contemptible reflection radiating back at me.

             
I start to row and after about six minutes, I give up. She’s still going but I’ve had enough for one night so I make my way to the changing rooms. I’d much rather go back to my room, shower, sit naked on the chaise longue, gulp down a bottle of wine to myself and pass out.

I’m in the
changing rooms for all of just a few minutes before Sexy Locks appears; towel wrapped loosely around her neck, water bottle gripped tightly in one hand and the other scraping back her fringe.

             
“Hi,” I say softly.

Well why shouldn’t I? We’ve been smiling at each other during our workout
after all. It would just be an awkward silence otherwise.

             
“Hey,” she says in a friendly and husky voice.

Oh my
god her face and body aren’t her only sexy features. I want to eat her up and become her. Hmm, if only that were possible, I’d be as gorgeous as she was.
I laugh inside at the stupidity of my thoughts.

             
She makes her way over to her locker whilst I’m attempting to open mine. The fucker is stuck.
Why am I always the one to get the dodgy supermarket trolley, the smart phone that isn’t so smart and breaks within a month and the lockers that don’t fucking open?
I shake and tug at it, albeit it gently and quietly, after all I hardly feel in the mood for being embarrassed in front of the hottest girl I’ve seen in a very long time. It can be pretty intimidating.

             
“Open you fucking little twerp,” I say under my breath. Unfortunately, she’s one of those decent people who want to help.

             
Why can’t she just be a beautiful stuck up bitch that keeps to herself? No, of course not! Instead, she makes her way over. I pretend not to notice in my peripheral vision and continue to yank at the piece of shit tin door.

“Would you like
some help?” she asks in her sexual porn voice.

“No, I’m good thanks
,”

“Are you sure? You look like you’re
struggling a tad,”

“Okay
, fine, if you can get this door open, I’ll repay you however you want,”

“It’s
only a locker. I don’t need repayment of any kind,” she laughs.

“
Thanks for the offer though,” she continues.

“Come on, let me at it
,” she says as she grips onto the handle.

“You hold onto my waist and pull me. Maybe double the strength will help
,” she says exuding positivity.

             
I do exactly that. God
her waist is small and toned. So this is how it feels for a guy when doing it doggy style.
My pussy tingles again.
Oh shit I’m so bad!

             
She tugs, I pull her and we go stumbling backwards onto the floor. There’s an echoing laughter as she lifts herself forward and faces me.

“Oh my
god are you okay?” she asks. I can’t get any words out, I’m laughing so hard.

“My fucking
ass,” I finally manage to spew out as I rub it.

“I’m so sorry! I completely lost grip. Must be the sweat
,” she explains.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Probably not the best idea we could have come up with anyway
.”

She stands and helps me to my feet. No word of a lie, a second after getting up we hear a click sound and what do you think that was?! The cheeky fucking locker
randomly pops open on its own. The two of us burst into hysterics.

“Well, it looks like I got it open after all
,” Dreadlocks giggles.

“It would appear you did
and I thank you for that.”

“Well, I guess you did offer to repay me if I got it open for you. So what kind of repayment plan did you have in mind?” she asks as her eyes become sensual little slits in her flawless face.

              Holy shit was she flirting with me? I mean, I’m the biggest flirt on the planet, especially with women and generally I can tell these things but she’s completely thrown me off track. She’s far too beautiful for me. Maybe it’s the dizziness caused by the workout or maybe I’m just so horny it’s messing with my mind.

“Well, what were you hoping I’d have to offer?” I tease back.

              She looks down at my sweaty chest, then at my nipples poking their way through my vest. Yes, it’s pretty obvious that I’m quite excitable. It’s still just the two of us in the change rooms. It’s Friday and hardly anyone works out on a Friday!

             
She takes a step closer to me and runs her finger along my chest. I flinch at her touch. I don’t know what her game is so I’m a tad sceptical. But it soon becomes apparent what she wants. So I go with it.

             
She continues to glide her finger along my chest, then along my collar bone and up the side of my neck. Leaning my head to the side my eyes roll back and my sight is seized by a blinding ecstasy as I take time out to enjoy her caress. As she takes her other hand and does the same on the opposite side, I straighten my head and get lost in her eyes. I move my hand to the back of her neck, under her hair and pull her forward onto my lips. Her mouth is so soft and tender. Her lips are full and voluptuous. They’re lips I could kiss all day long.

For me, t
he touch of a woman is just magical. And she triggers almost an electrical current within me. I feel like we’re the only two people on the planet at that moment. The room is spinning and my pussy is aching for her. I lay her down along the length of the wood slated bench in the middle of the room. Her long dreadlocks fall between the slits of timber as she lifts her arms above her head. Her gym vest lifts exposing her flat, toned stomach and hip bones—one of the sexiest areas on a woman. Other than their breasts, thighs and vagina of course. Okay everything about a woman makes me crazy with want.

I kneel down
on the floor at the edge of the bench. She’s breathing deeply as she wriggles her waist along the seat as she tries to get her groin closer to me. She wants to touch me. I tease her by breathing my hot breath up along the inside of her legs. She spreads them wider in the hope I make actual contact with her skin. But not yet.

Oh how
I love the power. I want to drive her crazy—crazy for me and it’s working. She loses patience and grabs at my hair and pulls my face in. My lips slightly converge with her shorts. They just had to be white, now prominently marked with a fresh lipstick smudge.

I ignore it and continue by pulling away. She lifts her head to look at me with anguish and frustration.

“Stop teasing. I want you now,” she demands.

“You want me do you?” I torment her
some more.

“Why do you want me?”

She sits up straight and looks down at me still on my knees.

“You’re so
god damn sexy. You’ve turned me on since the first time I saw you.”

“Is it driving you crazy?” I antagonise.

“Yes,” she says in an almost crying voice.
God, it really is sending her insane with desire.

“Ok
ay, I’ll give you what you want,” I concede.

After all, I want it just as badly, perhaps even more. I’m just enjoying the control for a while.

I lay her back down and gently slide down her shorts exposing her beautiful, clean shaven pussy. Just the way I like it. I part her legs and slide my tongue along her youthful labial flesh as I savour her pouring juices. I move to the very tip of her clitoris. She digs her nails into the wood of the seat and lets out a pleasured moan.

I continue to lick her like ice-cream on a cone
—full tongue, soft and entirely. She squirms about and I wrap my arms around her legs so she can’t move. I want her to deal with it and take what she gets!

I pull
them apart even further, now pushing them as far out as she can handle.
She’s bloody flexible.
I glide my tongue deep inside her dripping pussy.

“Oh my god.
Oh my god. Oh my god,” she says as she keeps tugging at my hair.

I then slip my middle and index fingers inside and
fuck her with them. I lift myself from the ground and straddle her as I place my soaking fingers inside her mouth and kiss her simultaneously. I want her to taste the succulent juices that I’m savouring.

I lift her from the bench and guide her into the shower cubicle. I turn the taps to hot and the steam quickly fills the room. So much so, we can barely see one another. The mirror is completely misted. I slam her up against the cold shower tiles pushing her arms high above her head as I dig my nails into her wrists and down her arms whilst running my tongue along the middle her of body until it reaches her belly button. I stand up and kiss her passionately as our nipples flick against
the other’s.

“
Shit, your body is out of this world,” I compliment.

“And yours is insanely sexy. I’ve never been so turned on by a woman before.” She moans more and more.

T
hankfully, I had shaved and tanned the night before. Or this so would not be happening right now.

I squeeze the remains of someone’s shower gel onto her nipples and rub it over her tits. The touch of them is astounding. I actually want to fuck her tits. I squeeze and gently push them together as I watch the water run through her cleavage. I nibble on one of her raised nipples then flick it rapidly with my tongue. She finally makes her move and places her hand on my smooth and begging pussy. I swear I wished my pussy could
consume her entirely. I want to fuck her entire body.

I struggle for breath as she catches me off-guard
and moves me away from her and sits me down on the tiled seat.
Hey! I thought I was in control here.
This time she stretches my legs apart as she feasts on my silkiness. I relax my hands on the back of her head as she buries her face in between my quivering legs; unsure of how much more I can before I pass out from the amalgamation of pure excitement and extreme heat. But there was no way I’d stop. I want to come inside her mouth.

I tense my stomach as she continues to lick and suck my clit
—my whole body shaking. I pull her head in closer. She sucks harder and I twitch every time she flicks her tongue over my throbbing swollenness.

“Don’t you dare stop
,” I instruct.

“I’m about to
come at any second!”

She obeys and continues. She licks, she sucks
and she fucks me with her nimble fingers until it feels like I’m about to combust. She still doesn’t stop and I reach a climax, convulsing with utter sensitivity as I push her head away. I can’t stop shuddering.

She faces her head up towards the hammering water. I gather my breath and swap places with her. I spread her legs wide open and I reverse my
ass into her crotch like a lap dancer. I lean my hands on her knees as I rub my ass on her pussy. She massages my tits and kisses my back as I’m doing it. She’s loving it.

“I want to feel your pussy against mine
,” she pleads.

“Oh my
god you’re my dream woman! With fucking pleasure! Literally!”

I turn off the shower, take her hand and guide her rather unsteadily, almost slipping over as we make our way back to the bench. I lay her down, parting her legs slightly and I lower myself on top of her reddened body. Our clits join and we’re both in
ecstasy. My pussy instantly starts to spasm. I can feel hers doing the same. I ride her slowly so I can relish the incredibly, inconceivably, mind-blowing sensation and then I fuck her senseless. I don’t last much longer as the feeling is out of this world and we both climax simultaneously.

Gym fantasy
: CHECK.

             
I return to my room. It’s all I seem to do: sleep, shower, eat, fuck. Sleep, shower, eat, fuck. As much as I’m lapping up the thrills and excitement, I’m exhausted and quite relieved it’s not all constantly about sex-in-your-face here. Whilst ultimately the experience is indeed about animalistic sex, fulfilling your most furtive sexual cravings and enjoying a concoction of taboo and rough riding with a hint of virtuousness, it also offers some form of alone-time and serenity. So tomorrow, before returning back to so-called normality, that’s what my last day is going to be about. Tranquillity.

Th
e calmness is featured in a room called the Innocence Room. But don’t let the name fool you. Whilst it’s an area in which guests can relax without being blatantly hit on, it is still vastly about sex; after all it is the Sweet Convictions Mansion after all.

Chapter 9

After a delicious yet calorific room service dinner mauled by me in unattractive PJs in bed, I give in to an early night and fall asleep to the sounds of the water feature swishing outside my window. It’s the first time I’ve heard it because it’s the first night without alcohol or passing out. Utter bliss.

              I’m woken by thankfully, the last knock at the door that I’m going to hear for a while.

             
“Good morning Ms Bentley. Poached eggs, toast, haddock and coffee?”

This time, I can just about handle the
sickly gaiety that exudes from my host’s voice. Thank God, it’s the last one.

“Sure, please.
Come in.” I didn’t bother to move from the bed. I’m going to make the most of relaxing today.

“Here you go Ms
Bentley. Enjoy,” says Ms No Name.

“Thank you
errr ...?” as I wait for her to tell me her name.

“Oh, sorry Ms
Bentley. I’m Katrina. I’m new.”

“New huh?
How are you finding it here? A bit of an eye opener I bet?”

“Indeed. But it’s got such perks.”

“I have no doubt. Thanks Katrina. I’ll leave the dishes outside as usual when I’m done.”

“No problem Ms
Bentley. Is there anything else I can get or do for you?”

“Nope, I’m good thanks. I’m going to take it easy today, what with being my last day.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll let you be then.”

“I’ll give you a shout if I need anything. Oh, actually, could someone swing by in about an hour or two to collect my bags and take them down to the lobby?”

“Absolutely. I’ll make those arrangements for you. No problem. Enjoy the rest of your day and I hope your stay was memorable.”

“To say the least Katrina
, to say the very least.”

I finish my breakfast
, brush my teeth and get sorting. I fold and pack my clothes neatly away, align my luggage next to the door ready for collection and leave the room.

I arrive at the Innocence Room.
The décor is shabby chic and everything is white and silver. It accentuates its innocence with overly long white chiffon curtains pulled elegantly to the sides. They’re draped over diamante holders screwed to the walls.
That’s the only screwing going on in that room
.

Enormous crystal chandeliers drip from the ceiling
; snow white sofas, six silver chaise longues adorned with faux fur throws, each inviting you over for a snuggle and a snooze. It has two fire places that could heat Russia, mantel pieces decorated with over-sized candelabras, Rococo style mirrors, glass tables with chrome statues of nude men and women for leg stands—each in a different sexual position might I add. It’s simply breath-taking.

I’m instantly overcome with a
feeling of purity to the point I feel I’ve practically reinstated my virginity. I giggle at the thought.

             
Primarily, it’s a room where you can take a breather from your dark side and pretty much rest your privates from the previous continuous nights of pure shagging. I have to admit, my little Lily is feeling pretty tender today.

             
The atmosphere is serene and the guests there are either quietly chatting to one another or reading a book. I literally sink into one of the puffed oversized silky sofas, unbuckle my sandals, cross one foot over the other and rest them on a white poof before closing my eyes and breathing in deep slow breaths.

God, that feels heavenly.

I reflect on my time here; how I’ve gotten here, how it’s broadened the hell outa my thinking in general, how it’s opened my mind to a whole new world of friskiness and historic moments like these. Okay, so not quite on the same level but still sex-related instances anyway.

I
flash back to five o’clock one Friday evening whilst working in London. I headed out to a nearby bar for a few pre-weekend drinks with one of the girls from work. She was one of the only girls in the office at the time that I could tolerate. Her name was Selby. She was quite new to the company. I was the only one to introduce myself to her. You see, unfortunately, I know what it’s like to be the outcast newbie so I’ve always made a point of welcoming any new members to the team. I like to make them feel welcome, at ease and show them there’s at least one decent human being in the company they can get along with without being stabbed in the back, head or eye! We got on really well right from the start.

Selby was a bit of an over-enthused freak. She’d bound about the office like a six week old puppy on speed; an amalgamation of a Jack Russell and a
Pitbull. She was beautifully insane and we got along famously. Selby and I had become great friends. We were inseparable; similar to that of my best school friend until we lost touch. We formed a bond I thought was unbreakable. How wrong I was. But that’s another story.

W
hat initially got us talking was the day we overheard a couple of cliquey girls bitching and snidely laughing about her, which of course, got my back right up. She, like me was totally against gossiping. It’s just unfair, nasty and evil—plain, simple jealousy.

My under-the-breath grousing and grunting whilst stood at the photocopying machine near Selby’s desk caught her attention and well, it made her laugh and anyone who finds me funny is a potential
friend of mine.

We spent most of our lunch hours together. Fridays consisted of endless typing and document reformatting, regular half hour caffeine breaks, a well-synchronised ten minute catch up and giggle in the ladies and an hour and a half lunch break enjoyed at the local Italian restaurant where we’d become very
well known and looked after. We’d devour bowls of their mouth-watering recipes, demolishing them within minutes, whilst quickly slugging back a litre of house wine...yep, a whole litre of it, then end it with free delicious shots of limoncello. We’d then make our rather unsteady venture back to the office, giggling like eight year olds at how we were going to focus on our typing requirements. I truly do miss our friendship so much.
Hey ho.

             
We arrived at the bar around seven after a pit-stop at the local off licence, still pissed from our lunch time revelry—music blasting. We ordered two soft drinks and cheekily hibernated into a reserved booth, inside of which we discreetly pulled out a bottle of vodka to top up our glasses of coke. We’d often do it to keep our nights out as cheap as possible. The problem was, we’d enjoy ourselves so much that we’d forget to at least appear sober each time we went up to the bar to order yet more soft drinks. We’d usually get suspiciously looked up and down then very quickly make tracks and head to the next bar before being thrown out.

             
The second bar we’d visited that night wasn’t as raucous and we could actually hear each other talk, along with a couple who sat near to our table. Selby had gone to the toilet and the couple were niggling at one another about domestics. I, being my nosy self, wanted to know what they were carrying on about so I leant sideways without realising just how obvious I was being. Embarrassingly and unsurprisingly they noticed. They both looked over at me with a menacing look of despise and snapped at me. Of course, what else could I do but apologise and lifted my meddlesome self back into a less intrusive position.

             
Around half an hour later I noticed the couple looking over at me, paying me an immense amount of attention, then smiling and laughing to one another before falling into a passionate embrace.
Fucking hell get a room you two.

I started to feel intimidated and quickly became angry
about their laughing at me, so I approached them about it. That’s what happens when I’ve had one drink too many. I become a mouthy stand-up-for-myself-and-anyone-else-I-love mad cow. To which they responded they were simply enjoying the view and invited Selby and I to join them. We did; mostly due to their offer of drinks.

             
Another hour or so had passed and we learned that they were husband, Jax and wife, Jade. He was South African and she was English; her voice husky and provocative. Each word she said would sound to me like “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me”. It sent shivers down my spine, through every split end of my hair down to the ends of my tingling toes and fingers.

Selby had fathomed the fact that she had drunk far too much in very little time so she decided it was time
for her to leave. I on the other hand was having a good time which she gathered when I whimpered at the thought and my smile turned to a sad, droopy-eyed puppy face.

“Stick around with us, we’ll look after you,”
Jade suggested to me.

“Yes, do that. I’ll be fine.
Simon’s picking me up. I text him when I was in the loo so it’s fine, he’s only about ten minutes away. I don’t want to ruin your night so stay,” Selby insisted.

“Okay, well, I’ll come outside and wait with you
,” I insisted to Selby. She was swaying and I couldn’t let her leave alone like that.

I remember I lost a friend once on a night out. She was so drunk, went to the ladies on her own and never came back to the dance floor where she left me. I searched the entire club and outside for her until closing time
at 3am. I asked the bouncers to help but they were useless and chucked me out. So I was left with no alternative but to go to the police station and report her as missing. I was an awful state and not because I was drunk either because indeed in a time like that, the shock and utter fear instantaneously sobers you right up. I remember how I sat shaking and crying in the police station for hours until 7am the following morning when they insisted on driving me home. Only to burst into tears even more when I saw her bag and clothes strewn across the mattress on the floor where she had planned to sleep that night. I kept beating myself up. How the hell could I lose someone? The next thing, about an hour after arriving at home, I received a call from her brother saying that she had gone there instead because she had felt sick the night before and wanted to go home and his address was the only one she could remember. I mean what the fuck?! Lesson learned. I’ll never let any of my friends out of my sight again.