Page 29 of Shame

Carmen leans away a little, her eyes roaming my face. I lower my head toward hers, taking in her lips, her delicate nose, those big brown eyes that express so much, then I catch her mouth and pull her tighter. Her response makes me hard in an instant. She clutches my shoulders, pulling me even closer, and the little mewl that escapes her lips makes me push her on her back and lean over, never breaking the kiss. I hesitate, I don’t want to scare her, but then I can’t stop myself and press my hard bulge to her groin.

“Lucas,” she gasps, clutching my neck, my back, as I ravage her mouth, Carmen responding in kind. “Come in under the blanket.” She begins to pull at the fabric.

I glance at the door, unsure if it’s a good idea. There’s no lock.

“Don’t worry about it. Please.”

I can barely breathe as I climb in under the sheet. She’s got on little pajama shorts and a tank top, no bra, and as she pushes her little body against mine, molding her shape to me, I nearly implode with need.

I put my hand on her belly. “Where do you hurt?”

“Nowhere. Please touch me.”

I feel her ribs under my fingers as I search my way up, finding her large, firm breasts, round, soft, all natural, so heavenly female. Her nipple hardens under my touch, and I circle it lightly, squeezing her soft swelling, finding the other, paying it even more attention.

“Are you okay?”

“Stop asking,” she moans. “I am. I’m very okay. Oh my God, Lucas. I’m getting so fucking wet just from you touching my tits. You want to feel it?” She takes my hand and puts it between her legs. “Touch me.”

I press against the fabric of her shorts, feeling it hot, damp. Rubbing back and forth, I am amazed by how I affect her, how she moans and rocks her hips in small, jerky moves. I push my hand between her warm belly and the hem of the shorts, finding her naked mound, sliding lower, circling her clit, lower, and oh God, she’s wet. So wet for me.

My cock strains against my pants, wanting to be there, between her legs, to thrust inside and bury myself in her sweet, sweet body.

“I want to make you come, Carmen.”

“Just keep doing, what you’re doing, baby,” she gasps.

I catch her mouth, devouring her, as I circle her clit, then slide lower, finding her tight soaked channel. Pushing two fingers inside, I begin to thrust as I find her breast with my other hand. She bucks up against me, her breaths erratic.

“Clit, baby,” she gasps, “rub my clit, then back inside, and keep switching.”

She mewls in my mouth as I obediently follow her orders, then her whole body arches as her inner walls clench around my fingers.

“I’m coming,” she squeals. “Oh my God, Lucas!”

When she’s stopped trembling and gasping, I just rest there, my fingers buried inside her. My cock wishes intensely it was there instead, but I’m really fucking happy with getting her off.

Carmen takes my arm and pulls my soaking wet hand to her mouth, licking it clean, sucking on every finger in turn, her gaze never leaving mine.

“Next time, it’s your turn,” she says, her eyes flashing with mischief, her cheeks beautifully flushed.

Carmen

I have never been kissed with such tenderness. Every night I fall asleep with his taste on my lips. The closeness between us has grown into something I can’t quite fathom. He wants me. But I don’t know to what extent. I can’t have a boyfriend. It’s just not possible. Not that we’re forbidden to have romantic relationships, not at all, but I’ve always felt it would be weird. I fuck a bunch of men, then go home and… do what? I’d feel unclean. Unworthy. I would always wonder if he secretly suffers, knowing what I do, if I’d be exclusive with someone.

Still I’m unable to let Lucas go. I should push him away, tell him thank you, it’s been nice, but it’s time to get back to life. My own real life is approaching fast. The matron has been really careful with me. My ass still isn’t good to go, but the rest of me is, with some concealer on the fading bruises. Men generally don’t like the sight of a beaten woman, unless they’ve done the beating themselves. We don’t serve that kind here, though. There’s only the one.

I try not to think about him.

The monster in the beautiful white mansion on the hill.

I still wake sweaty from nightmares, but they’re not as intense, and not every night. I know this peace is temporary. I know I should run. But where would I go? It would be so much worse if I tried to escape. If he found me, he’d punish me so bad I can’t even put words or images to what he’d do to me.

Sitting cross legged on the bed, in a cute little yellow dress, I play a silly game on my phone when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

The door opens and Lucas sticks his head around the doorjamb. “Are you decent?”

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