Copyright© 2007 by Kaffir
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This is the second story in the series. It tells of mature and conflicting loves and the deliverance of a girl from the after effects of sexual abuse. It is set in modern England but in the West Country where things are a little less modern than in London.
"You're going to have to start eating oysters," Sharon announced as she swept in the Wednesday after Easter.
"What for? Why?" asked Richard, totally bewildered.
"Spring cleaning, so I'm coming over two days a week for the next two weeks after Louise starts school again next week."
"You'll need your libido and stamina built up."
"Oh, come off it, Sharon. I don't need building up to make love to you twice a week. I'm still in my forties and you're lovely enough to make an eighty year-old get a hard-on."
"Oh, Mr H, you do say the nicest things."
She flung her arms round him and gave him a toe-curling kiss.
"Whoa! Steady, my pet! Later!"
"Yes, Sir," she said, releasing him. "It's just that being without you for a week I now want every moment I can get."
"I know, my pet, but we can't just give in when there are things we both need to do, apart from each other."
"Yes, Sir. I know but I can't resist a quickie when I can snatch one. Nor can you for that matter."
Richard grinned. He had grown into stroking, pinching or lightly smacking her bottom whenever he caught her bending over. Or he would come up behind her when her hands were wet in the sink, put his arms round her and play with her boobs.
"Touché!" he said.
She kissed him softly.
"I'll be a good girl, for the moment, and get on with me work".
"OK, my pet."
It was now six months since Sharon had astounded him by offering herself as his once a week mistress to counter his monkishness following the death of his beloved Rachel. Rachel had asked her to snap him out of prolonged grieving and Sharon had offered herself a year after Rachel's death. She had not found it easy and Richard had had a hard time deciding whether to accept her offer. He had accepted and then found that Sharon was totally ignorant of what making love entailed. Basically, she had been abused. Her husband, who had left twelve years ago, had treated her abominably, using her to satisfy his own often drunken lust without any feeling for her.
Richard had coaxed her gently but dominatingly into making love. He had also shown concern for her when her daughter, Louise, was suddenly taken frighteningly ill. The upshot was that Sharon, knowing that Richard would never fully reciprocate, fell head over heels in love with him. She promised him that she would never stand in his way if he found a replacement for Rachel but warned him that if the girlfriend did not match up she would let him know in no uncertain terms. Richard was aware of how aggressive and tenacious Sharon could be. He was actually quite glad that he had a protector.
Over the six months Richard in his turn had become very fond of Sharon. He was not in love with her. On the other hand he looked forward to their weekly love-making after she had done her cleaning job each Wednesday and he had allowed himself the odd bit of extra-curricular groping. She had happily allowed it too but had not copied him. She felt he might think she had overstepped the mark. It helped prevent Wednesday mornings becoming a routine fuck.
At eleven o'clock Sharon knocked on Richard's study door, something she had never done before. She normally left him undisturbed.
"I've made you some coffee, Sir."
"Thank you, Sharon. That's kind and totally unexpected. Is there something behind it?"
Sharon blushed and dropped her eyes.
"Sit down then, my pet, and tell me."
Sharon did so but sat there, still not looking at him and twisting her hands. A couple of times she took a breath as though about to speak and then said nothing.
"Tell me, Sharon," Richard said gently.
Sharon took a deep breath.
"I've never taken any precautions," she said.
"I'm not pregnant though," she added in a hurry. "My periods 'ave been dead regular but I've not been thinking an' I've let you down, Mr H, by not warning you or doin' anything about it meself. I'd love to 'ave your child but that's not part of the arrangement.
"I'm so sorry for deceiving you," she whispered.
"Sharon, my pet. First of all there's no panic. After we'd had the boys Rachel and I decided I would have the snip so I'm firing blanks. You didn't knowingly deceive me. You just went ahead with your plan to fulfil Rachel's wishes and forgot about the safety aspects. It's not as though you've had a baby for some years. Don't worry. I'm not cross or anything. If truth be told I'm just so pleased that you talked me."
"Oh God!" she breathed. "I'm so relieved and thankful. It would've killed me to have had to tell you I was pregnant and would 'ave to get out of your life."
"No, Sharon. That would never have happened. If I had fathered a child on you I would have been proud of both of you and loved it as if we'd been married."
Luckily Richard had put his coffee down because a dervish landed in his lap, hugging and kissing him.
"Oh, Richard! My darling Richard! Why do I deserve a man like you? I love you, love you... so much. I know you'll never fully return it but that won't ever stop me loving you."
Richard held her. There was nothing more he could say. All he could do was comfort her.
They sat there for another ten minutes or so while Sharon got the tears and kisses out of her system, after which she suddenly straightened up and got off his lap.
"I'm not earning my pay," she announced. "And I haven't been honest with you. I need to be punished, Sir."
"A whipping, I think, Sharon, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir," she said meekly but her eyes were dancing.
"Very well, Sharon," he replied struggling to contain his laughter. "In here at noon. Two extra strokes for every minute you're late."
"Oooh, Sir? Two?"
"You're a hard man, Sir."
"Oh, I am, I am."
Sharon, struggling to keep a straight face, curtseyed and then fled.
Richard collapsed in his chair overcome with laughter.
Sharon knocked on the door five minutes late.
"Come in," Richard called.
She entered with her head down and her hands folded in front of her but her eyes were on his and were gleaming with anticipation.
"You're five minutes late."
"Ten extra strokes above the twenty you were going to get!"
Sharon started to do so making a show of it.
"I said strip not striptease. Get on with it."
Sharon was naked in a flash.
"That's better. Put your hands on your head and stand with your back to the desk."
Sharon did so without a word and Richard opened his desk drawer and took out the fly-whisk. He did not swish it this time but quickly hit her across the shoulders with it. She was surprised and jumped.
"Stand still," Richard growled. "And count."
"Yes, Sir! Sorry! One!"
Richard laid nine more strokes across her back leaving her bottom alone. He was pleased to see that once again there was not a mark other than a slight flushing as though her back had been rubbed briskly with a towel.
Sharon did as she was told and he laid ten more strokes across her front. Her nipples were hugely erect by the end. Her eyes never left his face.
"Now kneel in the armchair and hollow your back."
Sharon did so sticking her bottom up in the air.
Richard whacked her bottom seven times before moving so that he could aim three backhands down the crack of her arse and onto her fanny and clit.
After the third Sharon screamed in ecstasy and forgot to count.
"You didn't count, you bad girl. Two more!"
That put them both over the edge. Sharon's body began to shake. Richard ripped at his belt, shoving his trousers and underpants down in one movement. Grasping Sharon's hips he slammed into her causing her to scream again. Her vagina gripped him like a mailed fist and milked his cock. He was unable to move inside her. Both of them went rigid for what seemed an age as he spewed into her. Then her body went limp and he fell forward over her.
After some minutes Sharon began to wriggle uncomfortably and Richard lifted himself off her. She grabbed her knickers and, stuffing them between her legs, hobbled forwards on her knees to start cleaning him up with her tongue. Richard put his hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet.
"No need to do that," he said. "Let's both go and have a shower."
"I just wanted to taste us both."
"Oh, sorry! Do you want to go back down again?"
"No. I got it. It was as good as ever. A shower sounds good."
So that is what they did, gently washing each other and kissing favourite spots.
Having dried they flopped onto the bed and Sharon snuggled up putting her head on his shoulder.
"You did it again, darling Sir. Whipping me with that whisk really turns me on and then taking me hard from behind I thought I was going to explode."
"Same here but the whipping does nothing for me. It's your bum that I really go for. It's so beautifully shaped: womanly yet tight and so soft and smooth."
"That's why I offered you my bum cherry."
"I know, my pet, but it was an offer I couldn't accept. As for the whipping, I suspect that regular whippings would come to bore you. It's the surprise element with a bit of suspense that does it for you."
"Yeah!" Sigh. "But I love it. Actually, loud-mouthed, aggressive me, I love it when you boss me around."
"I'm not entirely surprised. You Romany girls were used to being dominated by your men. It's just that I don't knock you about and get rough with you to dominate you."
"That's probably true. I've always had to scheme to get what I wanted. With you I still do a bit of that 'cos I'm a woman but then if I really want something I ask you and you say yes or no and give me your reasons. It makes me feel grown up, if you know what I mean."
"I think I do, my pet. Now, I'm ready to make love to you again. Are you?"
And they did: slowly, gently and lovingly.
It was well after one o'clock when they woke. Richard kissed her.
"Mmm! More please, Sir."
"No, my pet. It's well past the witching hour and tongues are going to start wagging."
"Oh shit! I could stay here in your arms forever."
"Nice though that might be you can't."
"I kno-o-o-w," she whined.
"If there is any gossip, and I'll be the last to hear it, it's the start of spring cleaning. Anyway, up you get!"
Sharon clambered off the bed and went into the bathroom. She was out moments later.
"I haven't had a shower," she announced, "'cos I'm not going on to that old biddy. Instead, I shall have the odd little sniff for the rest of the day to remind myself of the happiness I've had with you."
"What about Louise?"
"No problem. She doesn't know what sex smells like. She'll probably think I've got the curse, if she even notices."
"You're a wicked wench."
"Yeah. Hadn't you noticed? Goodbye, Sir Richard. I love you. Remember, you've only got to whistle."
Giving him a quick but passionate kiss she ran out of the house.