Chapter 6: Sharing a Bed With Sarah

Author’s note: no gay encounters in this chapter, but there are references to the last gay chapter. If you’re not into that, try to read through it to get to the parts you do like. I guess that’s all I can say.

After his encounter with William, John felt he should learn more about his slaves. He would mingle with them from time to time, watching the men and women, and boys and girls as they worked the earth. There was something profound in their focus and their collective energy of dealing with the needs of the land and crops.

John busied himself with barn work, wearing simple work clothes and making sure he was seen by many. He discovered the art of conversing with his slaves – asking about their families, sharing stories of his own, and inquiring about issues within the plantation.

It made him see through another lense than the one Richard provided. Richard believed in severe discipline, and he saw his slaves as commodities instead of human beings. John realized that Richard’s approach created a culture of fear and mistrust, stifling any true sense of community on the plantation. He despised how Richard treated slaves as objects that could be tossed aside without remorse or care, not acknowledging the humanity, pain, and sorrow behind the beaten bodies.

As much as John wanted to rise against the status quo, he was not a saint either. The taste of authority and the commanding role of a plantation master tainted his mind with an unsettling influence. His mind played a constant game of tug-of-war, wrestling with his wish to treat slaves humanely, while the temptation of power played into his own selfish desires.

This struggle was more pronounced as the sun set, casting a deep orange hue over the landscape. John would retreat to his plantation home, and darkness would envelop the property like a shroud. Finally free from laborious duties, John’s thoughts frequently drifted towards that unforgettable afternoon with William in his study.

He would remember the feeling of William’s strong hand on his dick, stroking him to completion. John would also remember how William’s cock erupted, expelling a torrent of hot, creamy seed. He found himself inadvertently picturing William’s erect form as he pleasured himself while lying in his solitary bed.

This evening wasn’t any different. As he enjoyed a brandy after dinner, John’s thoughts drifted back to William, the young slave boy he had pleasured only a few days prior in his study. John could feel his pulse quicken and his mouth go dry as his mind lingered on William’s muscular form, his supple skin, and the way William’s member felt in his hands. It was all so forbidden, so wrong, yet it felt incredibly right.

Just then, he heard a faint knock on the door, breaking his train of thought. “Come in,” John called, knowing full well who it was. Sarah entered and asked, “Masta, is there anything else you require from me before I retire for the evening?”

Standing at the doorway, her light brown skin reflected the golden light from the oil lamps. Her voluminous curly hair, reminiscent of a dark sunset, was neatly pulled back, tied up high above her head in a loose bun. A few loose tendrils framed her oval face, adding a dash of playfulness to her expression.

John glanced at her attire, noting the plain cotton fabric of her dress, and felt a pang of guilt. He had promised himself that he would treat his slaves better than Richard did, yet he could not deny that he, too, enjoyed the perks of his position—that he, too, desired Sarah.

John thought about their weekly baths, how Sarah would fill the tub with warm water from a large pot heated over the fire, and how she would help him wash. It was a routine they had fallen into during his first few weeks on the plantation. It was always Sarah who initiated their sexual encounters. And he willingly complied, yielding to her advances without much thought.

He knew that it was probably a habit for her, learned from her previous master, his uncle. Sarah knew exactly how to attend to her master’s needs, silent and unassuming, always present but never intrusive. Sometimes John wondered if this was what she truly wanted or if she felt obligated to fulfill her duties to him. He had never taken the time to ask her, always too caught up in the moment. Though it left him conflicted about their relation, it never deterred his lust for her.

In that moment, he found himself faced with a choice. He could remain shackled to the bewilderment brought on by his illicit fascination with William, or embrace the opportunity right before him—one that lined up more with societal norms and would appease his lingering doubts.

Tonight, he wanted to break free from his forbidden desires for William and be consumed instead by a fiery passion for Sarah. Perhaps if he lost himself in her, he could quell the tempest brewing inside of him. It was something he had to try. Maybe by indulging in his physical attraction to Sarah, he could regain control of his emotions, which had recently been thrown into chaos by the peculiar encounter with William.

He knew she was waiting for him to dismiss her, to assure her that her services weren’t needed tonight. But as he looked at her beautiful face and the swell of her dress indicating her full breasts, the combination of his lust for her and his desire to get William out his mind took over.

“Yes, Sarah, come over here please,” he responded, placing the book in his hands back on the table. As she approached, her steps hesitant, John admired the subtle sway of her hips, the way her breasts jiggled gently beneath the fabric of her dress. He felt his breath hitch, and his hands grew clammy. John’s eyes never left the lithe and graceful figure walking towards him. Sarah paused a foot away, her fingers nervously twisting together. His gaze lingered over her body, taking in the gentle curve of her waist that flared out into her hips, and the tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage peeking out from the top of her dress.

“Sarah,” John started, breaking the silence that filled the room. He took a deep breath and plunged forward, determined to follow through with his intentions. “Would you ... would you share my bed tonight?”

Sarah’s dark brown eyes widened in surprise. She blinked at him, seemingly stunned by the unexpected invitation. After a moment of silence, she hesitantly nodded. “Yes, masta. I would be honored to share your bed tonight.” Sarah’s voice was hardly above a whisper. She stood motionless and waited for John’s next move. He rose from his chair, moving closer to Sarah as he prepared himself for what was to come.

John extended his hand, lightly grasping hers before leading her to the spacious bedchamber. The grand four-poster bed, draped in sumptuous fabrics, dominated the room, conveying an air of opulence.

Without a word, he turned to face her. John slowly reached out to touch her face, tracing his thumb along the curve of her cheek. His fingers lingered in her hair, gently freeing her locks from their tie. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling in riotous curls that gleamed in the soft candlelight.

John leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers. The air between them crackled with tension, a living thing that seemed to tighten the boundaries of the room.

His hand moved to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her loose curls as he pulled her closer. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing together in a rhythm as old as time itself. John could feel the heat of her body, the way she pressed against him, soft and willing.

He allowed his hands to wander down her body, feeling the curves and swells that made her unique. Sarah moaned softly as he cupped her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. He pushed her more firmly against him, letting her feel his hardness against her stomach. His right hand roamed higher, brushing the side of her breast before settling on the aching mound. He kneaded it gently, savoring the feel of her firm flesh under his palm. Sarah arched into him, encouraging his exploration. His lips left hers, trailing feather-light kisses down her neck and chest. Sarah’s head tilted back, exposing more of her neck to his tender assault.

His right hand roamed higher, brushing the side of her breast before settling on the aching mound. He kneaded it gently, savoring the feel of her firm flesh under his palm. Sarah arched into him, encouraging his exploration. His lips left hers, trailing feather-light kisses down her neck and chest. Sarah’s head tilted back, exposing more of her neck to his tender assault. John’s lips found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, sucking and biting gently. Her breathing hitched, becoming shallow and erratic.