Faith Page 6

  The spanking ceases, and David helps me to stand upright again. I let my short skirt drop back down to more or less cover my smarting bum.

  “Thank you, sir. That was… very nice.”

  “It was my absolute pleasure, Charity. We must do it again some time.”

  “I’d like that.” And it’s true. I would.

  * * *

  I’ve become a regular at the club and I see David there fairly often. We’ve played together a few times since then, nothing especially heavy, and no sex. Which is a pity, and somewhat difficult to explain even to myself given the urges that brought me here. But I don’t really fancy him and he’s not pushing me to do more, so I don’t suppose it’s going to happen.

  I don’t visit the club for several weeks whilst Ewan is at home again. Instead we drift back into our familiar routine of eating together, watching television, occasional shopping trips. Our friendship has solidified, and as the anniversary of Ed and Caroline’s death draws near, we seem to edge closer together. On the actual day, by unspoken but common consent we return to that spot on the road where the bike crashed. Ewan drives, as he did that day. We park and just sit there, together, each of us remembering.

  I cry a bit, but it’s not the wracking, soul-deep shock and grief I felt at first. Now it’s more a genuine sorrow for lives wasted, for two young people who would be forever caught fast in that awful moment, whilst the rest of their world moves on without them.

  Ed is a memory. Caroline too. Ewan is real, here and now. He has a future, as do I.

  We drive back to Oakworth in near silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. As we pull up in Ewan’s driveway, I turn to him.

  “Ask me again.”

  “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me again if I want you to fuck me. Please.”

  He lifts one eyebrow. “Do you want me to fuck you, Faith?”

  I tilt my chin up. “Yes.”

  “Yes, but…?”

  “No buts. Just yes.”

  “No ghost of Ed lurking under the bed?”

  “We’ll use your bedroom. But no, no ghosts. Just memories.”

  “Memories are good. We can live with memories.” He lifts his hand to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking my chin. “I’ve thought about doing this for a long time.”

  “What, fucking me?”

  “Well, yes, obviously. But this too.” He leans across to trail his lips over mine, a gentle, undemanding kiss, but one that promises much more. Soon. Very soon.

  I lean towards him, opening my mouth to allow his tongue to slip inside. He’s slow, exploring, tasting. His tongue twists around mine, I suck on it, eager now to deepen the connection. I’ve waited for this, waited so long. I’ve made him wait too. He’s been patient while I’ve been inching my way closer and closer.

  “Can we go inside? Now?” I murmur the plea against his lips, my fingers weaving through his hair.

  Ewan breaks the kiss. His grin is wicked as he opens his car door. “Come on. Race you to the bedroom.”

  We get as far as the hallway before he grabs me and wrestles the pair of us to the floor. I’m on my back and he’s kissing me again, this time his tongue plunging deep into my mouth, hot, demanding. Insistent. His lips are cool and soft, his tongue rasping, the roughness of the surface rubbing the insides of my cheeks, the backs of my teeth. My stomach is doing somersaults, my pussy spasming. My knickers are drenched and any moment now he’ll discover that fact.

  Do I care? Maybe, but nowhere near enough to make any difference now.

  His erection is nudging my stomach. I search for it with my hand, rubbing the hard length through his jeans.

  “Fuck, Faith, do that some more. Please.”

  I grasp his cock, working the heel of my hand across the head. It leaps under my touch, straining against the zip of his Levis. I unbuckle his belt and release the button before drawing the zipper down. Ewan groans as I shove the denim aside to free his cock, then take it in my hand. I curl my fingers around it like a fist and pump the shaft, slowly at first, then harder as he lets out a breathy curse. His dick is large, hard, a solid weight in my hand. I’m determined not to make comparisons, but even so, Ewan doesn’t come up short.

  I wriggle from under him to prop myself up on one elbow, my other hand continuing to work his cock. The head is wider and a slightly darker colour, more purple than deep pink. Droplets of clear liquid are already dribbling from the slit in the end, and I smear them across the smooth surface with the pad of my thumb. Ewan groans again and flops onto his back, his arm across his face. I take that as an encouraging sign that I’m not hopelessly out of practice and increase the tempo of my strokes.

  “Christ, that’s fucking wonderful. Stop now, though.”

  “Stop? Why stop?”

  “I want to fuck you, not come all over your hand. Maybe later…”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah. Right now, I want you under me, naked, screaming my name.”

  “I see.”

  He shifts his arm to fix me with a hard glare. “I don’t think you do. If you did see, you’d be scrambling up the stairs now flinging your clothes in every direction.”

  “Like this?” I release his cock, with a degree of reluctance I admit, and stand up. I pull my T shirt over my head and drop it on his face before reaching behind me to unhook my bra.

  “You’ve got the idea.” He tosses my T shirt aside and sits up to drag his own over his head. Then he reaches for his jeans and shoves them down. I take that as my cue to start the scrambling he mentioned. I head for the stairs, loosening the button on my skirt as I go. By the time I reach the top I’m only wearing my knickers. I hook my thumbs into the waistband and would lose them too but I’m grabbed from behind and lifted from the floor. Ewan carries me along the landing to his bedroom and marches inside with me in his arms. He drops me on the bed and throws himself down next to me.

  “Now lose the pants and spread your legs.”

  “What? No foreplay?”

  He grins. “Some say it’s over-rated, but since you seem so keen…” He rolls on top of me, then slithers down the bed until his chin is level with my stomach. He dips his tongue into my navel, swirling it around. It tickles and I arch under him.

  “Keep still.”

  “Or else what? Will you tie me up?” Oh. My. God. It’s one thing saying that to Ed, quite another when I’m about to be fucked by an experienced, accomplished dom who probably ties women to his bed as a matter of course.

  Ewan eyes me, from somewhere down by my lower belly now. “Not on this occasion. But soon.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not Caroline. I can’t replace her. Don’t ask me to—please.”

  “You’re nothing at all like Carrie, and I thank God for that. You’re all your own woman, the woman I need right now. The woman I’ve waited for. Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want.”

  I smile and reach to stroke his cheek. As I watch, he lowers his gaze to study my pussy, all open and spread out before him as I lie with my thighs wide apart.

  “Smooth. I like that. Not what I expected though.”

  I’ve noticed on my visits to Sheffield that without exception the submissives either shave or wax their pubic hair, or occasionally have it trimmed to just a narrow strip in the centre. I’ve gone for the all-over Brazilian look. I’m pleased now that I did; Ewan’s approval is important to me.

  “I’m glad you like it. I… Aagh.” Whatever I might have been about to say is lost in my strangled moan as he flicks the tip of my clit with his tongue, then proceeds to circle it with slow, firm strokes. I grab his hair, sinking my fingers in as though to hold his head against me.

  He uses his thumbs to part the lips of my pussy then darts his tongue between. His thrusts are sharp and rapid, the tip of his tongue entering me as he caresses my clit with his fingertip. I moan, the pleasure building fast. In seconds I’m at that plateau stage where matters could easily go either wa
y, but where the longer I stay the greater the sense of anticipation, and the stronger the eventual orgasm.

  Ewan seems to be perfectly attuned to my responses, stoking my arousal but keeping me just short of my climax. I gasp, lifting my hips as I seek the friction that would tumble me across the point of no return. Ewan places his palms on the backs of my thighs and pushes them apart and up towards my chest, opening me more fully to him. He shifts slightly, stops tongue-fucking me and instead takes my swollen clit between his lips.

  He grazes it with his teeth, the sensation both threatening and incredibility tender. He could hurt me, really hurt me, but I know down to my toenails that I am safe.

  He increases the pressure, firming his lips around my throbbing clit as he sucks on it. Hard. At the same time he slides two long fingers into my cunt, and I lose it. My pussy convulses, I let out a squeal of pure pleasure as my climax seizes me, rippling fast and hard through my nervous system. My body is shuddering, my muscles tense as he finger-fucks me. He maintains the suction against my clit, the quivering peak of nerve endings pulsing as my head does cartwheels.

  Long moments later, it’s over. My muscles relax, my mind regains some hold on reality, I’m again conscious of the bed beneath me, the weight of Ewan’s upper body against my legs as he lifts his head to regard me with a dry smile.

  “Your pussy feels tight. It’s been a year, yes?”

  “A year. Of course, you know that.” It’s the anniversary of Ed’s death, I’ve never been more conscious of the length of time which has elapsed.

  “I thought so, but I didn’t know, not for sure. I’m the first since Ed, then.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad. You still up for this?”

  “Of course. Yes. Yes, I am.”

  He eases up my body until his hips are between my thighs, the head of his swollen cock at the entrance to my pussy. He leans to one side and reaches past me to the drawer beside his bed. He extracts a condom and snaps open the foil, sheathing himself one-handed. He takes his weight on his elbows and lowers his forehead to rest on mine.

  “We’ll take this slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Not slow. Fast. I want it hard. I want to feel this, really feel it. I want to feel it for days.”

  He nudges forward, the head of his cock is now hovering just inside my entrance. “Are you a screamer? We wouldn’t want to alarm the neighbours.”

  “Fuck the neighbours.” I grind out my words, desperate now to have him inside me. I crave the fullness, the connection.

  “Good idea.” On that he drives forward and buries the length of his cock in my pussy.

  I let out a moan, part pain, part pleasure. He’s big, I’m stretched, impossibly tight. My fingers grip his shoulders as he holds still for a few precious moments. My body reshapes around him, adjusting to this invasion.

  “Okay?” His voice is soft, gentle against my ear. “Hard enough for you so far?”

  “Ewan, I… oh!”

  Any further conversation is stifled as he withdraws, almost pulling out of me before plunging deep again, hard and fast. I lift my legs, hooking my ankles together behind his back and just hang on. Ewan sets up a rapid pace, short, sharp thrusts that set my body tingling, then deepening the motion to fill and stretch me with every stroke. He angles his entry to somehow hit that inner spot where something wonderful happens, where the sensation is most acute, most intense.

  It’s tight, but still I clench around him, my pussy starting to convulse as my arousal builds. I know I’m going to come again, and soon.

  “Ewan, I… please, faster. Harder. I need you, I want…”

  My words are stopped by his mouth angling across mine, swallowing any further sound. His tongue plunges inside, mimicking the action of his cock. I’m overwhelmed, entirely overpowered, carried away on a wave of carnal sensuality. My body shivers and arches as my second climax hits me, hard, wrenching, utterly sublime. My lips are parted to accept his tongue, my pussy spread wide to welcome his cock. He is all I need, consuming me, filling me. Thrusting life and hope and belief for the future back into me.

  My orgasm subsides, as Ewan’s own release builds. His body is hard, his muscles tense and poised as he drives his cock harder, deeper. He stills, holding position, his erection nudging my cervix as his semen spurts, pumping to fill the condom. He releases my mouth to let out a low groan before dropping a light kiss against my earlobe.

  We both lie still, caught in the moment, panting. My heart rate slows down to something resembling normal. I manage to find the strength to unclasp my ankles and straighten one leg. The other remains hooked around Ewan’s hips. He rolls to the opposite side, dragging me with him so I find myself draped across his body. He makes no attempt to disengage from me. I’m conscious of his cock only slightly softening inside my cunt.

  “You alright, Faith?” His tone is low, gravelly. His breathing is still laboured, which pleases me. His seduction was not entirely effortless.

  “Mmm, I think so.”

  He lifts my hair, tilting my chin up so he can see my face. “You think?”

  “I can’t be sure, not until we’ve done that a couple more times.”

  His anxious expression dissolves into a grin. “Brat. You’ll be staying the night then?”

  Chapter Six

  I did stay the night, and most of the following morning. Ewan is inventive, demanding, an exciting, attentive, generous lover. In the weeks since we have spent every night together, usually at his house, sometimes at mine. His bed is bigger, so we prefer that. My kitchen is better stocked, so we usually come round here to eat although Ewan does most of the cooking.

  Although he’s not travelling at the moment, that doesn’t mean he isn’t working. His dining room has been converted to provide an efficient home office—another reason for eating at my house. Ewan tends to spend his days in there, working on the various projects he’s involved in, keeping up with correspondence, tendering for new jobs though I gather that most of his clients approach him.

  I’m working out my notice at Em See Squared. My attic studio is ready. The loft has been converted into a superb workspace, even better than I imagined. I’ve invested in a powerful desktop computer with a huge, flat screen, loaded with the latest in design software. I’m ready to go. All I need now are some orders.

  I have enough cash in reserve to be able to support myself for six months, though I’m confident that in that time I’ll be able to bring in at least some business. Ewan will be my first client. He wants me to overhaul his company website, so between that, and designing my own marketing materials, I’ll be busy for the first few weeks.

  Life is exhilarating, the future bright. I’m bursting with optimism. Enthusiasm drips from me. For the first time I can remember, I’m consciously happy. Fulfilled.

  * * *

  Ewan is leaving today. He’ll be in Paris for the next three weeks, then on to Oslo for some preliminary discussions about a new velodrome. He invited me to go with him, at least for some of the trip, and I suppose I could have. Paris and Oslo are not actually that far away. But my own fledgling business needs my attention. If I’m serious about making a success of this venture, I need to apply myself, I need to make it my priority. Good sex is a bonus, and there’ll be plenty more of that when Ewan returns.

  I’ve been beavering away in my attic for three weeks now. Ewan’s website is looking sleek, modern, uncluttered. I’ve placed adverts in various trade press publications, and I’m starting to develop my social media presence.

  I call my business just simply Faith. It makes sense to me.

  Most important, I’ve hooked my first clients as an independent supplier. A local nursery want a logo and signage, and the motorcycle spares shop that Ed used to frequent most weekends heard that I’d set up alone and offered me the job of designing their latest sales promotion leaflets. They expected mates’ rates, but we managed to do a deal. I’m making ends meet.

>   The first Friday that Ewan is out of the country I consider making a return visit to Sheffield. It’s been a few weeks since my last spanking, and I long to feel the sharp sting of a paddle against my buttocks. Who would have imagined that? It’s true though, but still I don’t go.

  Ewan wouldn’t like it. I haven’t mentioned it to him, of course I haven’t, but I know what he would think. To go there behind his back is out of the question. It would be disloyal to him, deceitful.

  With Ewan, I have something special, something powerful and every bit as passionate, every bit as hot as I imagined it would be. I was right about the emotional involvement a relationship with him would entail. I’m in love with him, I know this without a shadow of doubt. I have a suspicion he might love me too. He hasn’t said so exactly, but it seems to me to be there in his ready, dimpled smile, his dry humour, his gentle, slow touch and his lovemaking that sets my pussy alight. It could be wishful thinking, but I hope not. All I know is he makes me clench and cream with just a look. One quirk of his lip, one flash of those dimples, and I melt.

  It’s more than mere physical attraction, more than just sex. He’s nice, he’s funny, he’s good company. He makes me laugh, he makes me scream. I enjoy him, in bed and out of it.

  And I miss him. Terribly.

  I’m not sure exactly why I haven’t talked to him about my explorations into my submissive nature. It’s not as though he wouldn’t understand. But my trips to Sheffield seem like another life, a different existence. They are outside of my relationship with Ewan, and are destined to remain so.

  My sudden and intense reaction when Ewan made his semi-joking reference to tying me up came out of nowhere. It surprised me, not least as I did actually find my previous limited forays into bondage arousing. When we first got together Ewan mentioned the ghost of Ed hovering beside us, but it was Caroline’s spectre that rose up in that moment, over-shadowing the pleasure of Ewan’s touch and twisting my perspective.

  In my head I know that Caroline had no real hold on Ewan. He regrets her loss but doesn’t pine for her as I might have feared. As I once did for Ed, though not any longer. But she was an experienced submissive, trained, responsive to his needs, attuned to her own sexuality. I’m a bumbling amateur in comparison, clumsy, unsophisticated. From my visits to Fairlawns I know enough now about dominance and submission to appreciate the depth of my ignorance, the extent of my naïveté.