Saras Story Ch 05

[

As always, special thanks to Inkstaine, who so kindly edited this chapter for me despite her hectic schedule. Thanks Inkstaine!

Two chapters remain to the story. Look for the next installment soon.

As always, comments are welcome!

Obbity

]

Later that night...

While Charlotte slept soundly, her arms and legs wrapped in a tangle around her lover, Sara did not. The passion roused in her over the past two days, coming to a head on the leather couch in the other room, did not so quickly abate. Though she enjoyed Charlotte's embrace, the dull throbbing between her legs denied her rest. At first, she was frustrated with her partner, until she remembered how she had been with her first, how long it took her before she was ready to reciprocate the pleasure she had been voraciously receiving.

No, it wasn't Charlotte's fault that she was as horny as a teenager in a porn shop. She'd simply have to take care of this herself, if for no other reason than to get a good night's sleep. She disentangled Charlotte's limbs from her own, careful not to wake her as she did. Charlotte sighed and shifted, but didn't roll over no matter how Sara tried to nudge her.

Sara frowned. She didn't want to get out of bed to satisfy her craving, but she didn't want Charlotte wake up, either. So she turned on her side, facing Charlotte, and curled her legs up into a half-circle. She arched her back, sticking her butt out just a little bit, and moved her hand behind her, sliding down the open valley of her ass to part the moist lips of her labia with two fingers. She had to bite her lip to stifle the gasp. She began to slide her fingers back and forth, cautiously rocking her hips in an inverse motion. Soon Sara's short blond hair was a tangled mess, sticky with sweat, her brow furrowed in the desperate grimace of one trying to hurry an orgasm.

All of a sudden a kind of half squeal slipped from her lips. Sara's hazel eyes went wide and she froze as Charlotte groaned softly and shifted in a half-sleep daze. Sara frowned again. This just wouldn't do. She was not quiet when she came; it just wasn't possible. Even worse, she could smell her heavy scent under the sheets. If Charlotte woke, she would

know

, and that would just be embarrassing. She waited for a few minutes, until she was sure Charlotte was back in a deep sleep, and quietly slipped out of bed. She padded into the bathroom and searched for a good spot. No such luck.

Sara sighed and considered for a moment just getting back into bed and ignoring the throbbing between her legs, but she knew it was too late. The little beast had already gotten a foretaste, and now would be grumpy as hell if she didn't give it what it wanted. She quietly made her way across the room and into the hallway, careful to make sure the door made no noise as she closed it behind her. It was now well past 4 a.m. Michael had to sleep sometime, she figured. The couch would be the perfect place for some alone time.

She took the corner of the couch, farthest from the cameras, and practically buried herself in the cushions, bringing her knees up and together, and slid her fingers between the narrow gap of her thighs and began to rub that swollen, aching nub. Sara sighed a long, pleasurable sigh. Her entire body relaxed, luxuriating in the knowledge of what was about to happen. Slowly, tension began to build once again.

Sara wasn't sure at what point Michael entered the room. She never heard a door, and he made no noise as he crossed the distance between it and the couch. She only

felt

a presence, and there he was, standing over her. No words passed between them; there wasn't anything to say. He knew what she was doing there, and she knew exactly why he came. Her hand stopped, and her knees opened. Michael knelt down in front of her and took her hand, sucking the fingertips that had been so busy just seconds before. As his head sank down between her legs, Sara knew she was making a mistake. She should be pissed at him for what he had done, what he had made

her

do. But she remembered that night, bound upon the table, how gifted he was with his tongue. So she sank down into the cushions of the couch, content to let him guide her to that place she was so earnestly yearning to reach.

He was in the mood to tease again, much like that night, to draw her pleasure out as long as possible, building the tension until every muscle in her body was coiled like a spring. His tongue circled a slow and whimsical dance, peppering her with long caresses and quick, light flicks.

Suddenly her fingers caught on the neckline of his mask and started to lift it over his head. He pulled away from her. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Please," she begged. "It's dark and I won't look. I need to feel your face on my body, not some stupid mask." She caught his head between her fingers and pulled him back down to her and in a clean motion ripped the mask off his face and dropped it on the floor next to him. Her hands ran through his hair as his tongue once again started to work in that hot place between her legs.

Nestled deep in the cushions of the couch, Sara let Michael's fingers and tongue enrapture her. Waves of pleasure swept over her, cresting again and again into orgasm. She caught Michael's head between her thighs and in the desperate need of her pleasure forced his mouth against her thrusting sex. Sara could sense Michael's want, his greed, as he devoured her. And then she was spent.

Michael reached down and quickly slipped the mask back over his face while Sara sprawled out on the couch and stretched, like a big, contented cat. "Don't you ever sleep?" she asked, her voice still purring in post-orgasmic bliss.

Michael smiled at her. "I was asleep, but a silent alarm goes off if someone opens a door."

Sara's eyes narrowed, but the smile remained. "That's pretty sneaky of you. I shoulda known." She yawned, stretched again, and then stood.

Michael was still kneeling on the floor, but as he stood he took in the full measure of her grace. Silhouetted in the dark, she was statuesque. The fine sheen of sweat only highlighted the tightness of her frame. When his gaze finally reached her face, he found those green eyes upon him, assessing, calculating.

Sara watched her captor as he gathered himself from the floor and stood. Even in the dark, she could see the awkward bulge in his jeans. She paused. Michael was a bastard, there was no doubting that. Yet he had pleasured her, not just once, but over and over until she could take no more. She could hardly remember a time when someone could bring her to orgasm as effortlessly as he did. Twice now, he had done this. Most men, she well knew, would have expected something in return after the first time. Most wouldn't even wait for her to come down from her own orgasmic high before they pulled it out and stuck it in her face. But here he was, about to leave, and he hadn't given her the first hint of an expectation. He might be a bastard, but she just couldn't let that go.

She stepped up to him, so close they nearly touched, and put a hand on his chest.

"Sara?' he said with a pause.

Her other hand went to the cramped, swollen bulge in his pants. It quickened to her touch.

Michael started, "I don't thin-"

"Shut up," Sara replied, and shoved him down onto the couch.

Before Michael could offer up another protest, Sara's nimble fingers unzipped his fly and freed his throbbing manhood. Cold fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft and began to move up and down. "My, my," Sara quipped as she considered up close the purple, glistening head, "it's been a long time, hasn't it?" She turned her gaze and smiled up at him, white teeth gleaming in the dark. He nodded desperately.

Sara's tongue went to the base of his shaft, and she slid her tongue, heavy against him, from base to tip. Without pause she took the head into her mouth, and her head slowly sank down, take him in his entirety.

Michael squeezed the edge of the couch with both hands.

Sara's lips formed tightly around him, and she began to stroke him with her mouth. Her hands went to his guiding them to the back of her head where they discovered ready purchase in a thick mane of blonde hair. Her lips came up and conformed tightly to the swollen head of his penis. She took the wet shaft in one hand and with it resumed the steady pumping motion. The other hand slipped down and took a firm hold of the dangling sack between his legs. He flinched at that, the way any man does when a woman lays a hand on that most delicate part of the body.

"What's a matter, Michael," she said as her lips left him, "nervous?"

"Should I be?" he said with a shudder.

"That depends," she mused. "A man is never so focused as when a woman has his nuts in her hand. Not even when she's giving him head."

"This is true," Michael agreed. Despite, or perhaps because of, the uncertainty of his situation, the throbbing between his legs grew. His hands returned to the edge of the couch, but his eyes remained fixed on her. "It seems you have the advantage over me."

Sara smiled at that. "Relax," she purred. Her lips again wrapped around the head of his penis, sucking softly while her tongue ran wet circles around it. She watched while he slowly sank back down into the cushions of the couch, lost in his pleasure. Then she spoke. "I want answers." She gave him a gentle squeeze. His body shuddered in response and his head shot back up to focus on her.

"What do you want to know?" he asked with some effort.

"How many others, before me and Charlotte?"

He looked down at her, to where she knelt between his legs. In the dark, Sara couldn't quite make out his expression. Was it anger? Arousal? She wasn't sure. She gave his scrotum another squeeze. He groaned, his thighs closing around her narrow frame.

"Three," he gasped out the words. "There were three. You and Charlotte make five in all."

A smile formed at the corner of Sara's mouth.

It's nice to be in control,

she thought. She leaned down and planted a wet kiss on his cock, breathing in the pungent aroma of seed. "Tell me about them."

Michael hesitated. Sara held his balls firm in her hand, yet with her lips she massaged the head of his cock. Her eyes were intently fixed upon him. "What do you want me to say?" he said. "The first was a twenty-two year old med student named Megan. I found her in a book store and ah..."

Sara continued to slowly stroke him with her hand. "Go on," she prodded.

"Uh...where was I? Oh. I followed her. Watched her. Eventually I brought her here. There wasn't much, just this one room...I added the others later. Anyway, I kept her here for three weeks, until her spring classes were about to start. Oh god that feels amazing!" he said, panting for breath. "The first week," he continued, "I didn't do much, but slowly I gained courage, until finally I took her. For the last two weeks I made her my sex slave. It was crazy, and I wasn't as prepared for it as I am now, but I was hooked."

"And then, when you were finished with her, what did you do?"

"I...um...let her go of course. I had to do it again, though. It was the most exhilarating thing I had ever done." Michael closes his eyes, thinking only of the massaging stroke of her fingers.

"You like being in control. Don't you, Michael?" She squeezed her hand hard enough to cause his entire body to tense. She didn't wait for a response. "Tell me about the others."

"What's to say?" he said between gasps. "They were about a year apart. Each time I improved my methods...refined the process. By the time I discovered you, I had it down to a science."

Sara's supple hand continued to stroke and massage Michael's cock. Between her mouth and her hand, she kept him on that narrow precipice of arousal, just on the edge of orgasm. His mind, addled with pleasure, bereft of reason, was left defenseless. He spoke, unaware of his words, focused only on her nimble fingers.

"What drew you to me?" she continued.

Michael laid his head back on the sofa. Sara, afraid he was about to come, relaxed the fingers gripping his member just a bit. The other hand, however, maintained its firm grip on his testicles.

"I first saw you at a sports bar," he began, lifting his head and looking down at her. "I was captivated by the way you carried yourself, the glint in your eyes, the strength in your voice." As he spoke, trembling fingers ran through her hair and brushed her cheek. "You were sitting with some friends and drinking. I knew right away you were the alpha female, the leader. The other girls admired you, laughed at your jokes, perhaps even desired you. I couldn't take my eyes off you the rest of the night. When you left, I followed you. By now, I was very good at not being seen. I followed you home. Over the next few weeks I continued to study you, learn your habits and patterns. The more I discovered, the more I wanted you to be next."

As he spoke, Sara noticed the intensity of his erection begin to wane, more focused on the past than the present. She replaced her hand with long steady strokes with her tongue. Again she brought him to the ecstasy shrouded edge.

"What about Charlotte, then?" she asked between those wet caresses. His hips again began to move, instinctively thrusting against the velvet pressure of her tongue. He was staring down at her,

"I...uh...broke into your apartment one night when you were out on a weekend vacation. I read your journals, learned about Maggie and the others. I was enraptured by your tales of conquest. I had to see it for myself. She wasn't hard to find, you just have to know where to look. The hardest part was making sure of her virginity; I wanted you to be her first experience."

Sara rose up and released her grip on his testicle; she no longer needed some unspoken threat to control him. Her other hand continued its vigorous piston motion, her thumb massaging the over-stimulated frenulum of his erection. "So you think you can cage me and make me do your bidding like some pet? Is that it, Michael?"

"I...I..." words failed him.

Lubricated by her own saliva, her hands made wet noises as she squeezed and massaged his throbbing, purple cock. "Tell me, Michael. Can you control me? Own me?" She held his gaze with a wicked smile.

For a second, their eyes locked, then he shook his head. "Not you, too much fire in you veins. I can push you but never control..."

"Ask me to make you come." she said, her green eyes sparked by the aforementioned fire.

"What? I..."

"Beg me, Michael," her hand slowed. "I will walk out of this room right now if you don't beg me for it," she said, her voice a fierce whisper.

He hesitated, his words caught in his throat. A look of confusion spread across his face.

Sara smiled at that and sank back down between his legs. This time her mouth took over for her hands. "How long have you fantasized about this, Michael?" she asked between caress. "How many times have you thought about me while you watched through your cameras?"

"Every time," he confessed.

She took him into her mouth and sucked. Michael groaned and thrust himself deeper into her.

"Beg me, Michael," she said, her lips wet with her own saliva and the sticky salt of his own fluids. He let out a groan as she pulled away from him to speak the words. When her tongue returned to sensitive underside of his penis, his hands found the back of her head and pressed her face into him.

Sara jerked away and shook her head. "Hands to yourself, Michael. I'm calling the shots tonight." Reluctantly, he obeyed. She returned, but this time, she ran long lazy strokes up and down the length of his manhood. "Beg me," she said again.

His lips quivered and opened as if to speak, then he clamped them shut. Sara began to suck on the underside of his shaft, just below the head.

Michael groaned again, started to wrap his fingers around her head but stopped himself, forcing his hands back to the couch. Finally, he gave in. "Please Sara. Please make me come."

Sara sat up and straddled his bare thigh. She wrapped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him so close their lips nearly touched. Her other hand began to pump with greater and greater intensity. With each stroke her fingers wrapped around the tip of his head before sliding back down again. He tried to shut out the world and lose himself in the moment, but hazel eyes held his own captive.

Finally there was a sharp intake of breath and his hips began to arch and thrust violently against her strong grip. Her eyes never let his go of his, holding his stare even as he came. She smiled as she felt the hot, sticky fluid dribble down her still pumping fingers. Things would not be the same.

Michael let out a long sigh and at last was able to look away from her.

Sara stood, pausing only to wipe her soiled fingers on his bare thigh. She looked down at Michael as he sat there on the couch, his come soaking down into his pubic hair. A broad grin crossed her face, and she turned and left the room.

...

Sara quietly slipped back to the bedroom, relieved to see that Charlotte did not stir as she did. She tiptoed around the bed and slid underneath the sheets, not stopping to rinse her face at the bathroom sink for fear of waking her. She watched as Charlotte shifted in her sleep and snuggled her warm body up close to hers. Charlotte's hand groped about until it found Sara's and brought it up between her breasts. Sara smiled, for the first time since her kidnapping confident that there had been a change, however slight, to her favor.

Yet, as she slowly drifted off to sleep, she struck by an odd and unexpected emotion: guilt.

She felt as if she'd cheated on Charlotte, deceived her in some way. How would Charlotte feel if she knew that on the same night they'd made love, she had jerked-off their captor? It wasn't like they were a couple. Were they? Not exactly...but they were in this together, so it was almost as if they were. Charlotte certainly would think so. What if Michael told her? She'd lose everything. But...wait a sec. What exactly would she be losing? Why did she care so much about a girl she had only known for a few days? She was only trying to gain the upper hand, gain some advantage over their captor. And it wasn't like she and Charlotte

made love

, they fucked. What she should be caring about is getting the hell out of here before Michael loses it.

Sara frowned. No, that was a lie, and she knew it. It had been Charlotte's first time. She looked at the girl, the way she had reached for her hand the second she got in bed and pulled it to her. And not just anywhere, between her breasts. No, it wasn't just a fuck, not for Charlotte. Sara sighed. She could never set aside Charlotte's feelings for her own well-being.

Damn him to hell for doing this to me,

she thought. She could still taste the man on her lips, knew his come had dried on the fingers Charlotte held in her own. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Sara Kierson felt guilt.