Taint(35)

I rub the back of my neck in frustration, before going to kneel in front of her. Erin may be confident and fearless, but she is still a woman. She still needs to feel desired. “Of course you’re not invisible to me, Erin. I see you. Shit, I was touching you…talking to you in ways I shouldn’t have been. For a minute, I forgot where I was.”

She lifts her eyes and hope floods her face. “You wanted me, didn’t you? You wanted to be inside me, right?”

I swallow, pushing down the instinctive Yes in my throat. “I’d be fucking crazy not to want you, Erin. You’re a beautiful woman. But you know I can’t cross that line with you. Not now, not ever.”

“But…but before we did-”

I shake my head, knowing exactly where this is going. “That was then, Erin. And that will never happen again. I told you that. Now if you can’t handle this arrangement, I can find someone who can.”

Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head. “No. No, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just…”

I kiss her on the forehead and climb to my feet. “Good girl.”

For once, I’m actually not trying to be the villain. I like Erin, but not in the way that she wants. A few years back, I approached her in a Chicago bar, on her last dime, looking for any rich bastard to buy her a drink and hopefully be her sponsor. Despite being incredibly gorgeous, she reeked of desperation. I had to help her. It was my civic duty to do so before she got caught up with the wrong crowd.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I asked her, sliding onto the barstool beside her.

“Amy,” she answered, smiling too brightly.

“Amy, huh? What’s your real name?”

Her face fell, and she stared at the gin and tonic she had been nursing for the past hour. “Erin.”

Without a word, I slid her a business card. No name. No information. Just a phone number. Then I slapped a hundred dollar bill on the bar and turned and walked away.

Five minutes later, Erin was ringing my cell phone.

“There’s a diner on Michigan Avenue,” I answered without preamble.

“Which one?” she asked into the receiver.

“Whichever one you find me at.” End.

Half an hour later, Erin slid into the booth I was stationed at, flustered and irritated. I picked up my cup of coffee and casually took a sip before sliding her a menu.

“I’m not here to eat,” she said, pushing it back towards me.

“Order. You’re hungry. And don’t lie and say that you’re not. What we won’t do is lie to each other. Understand?”

Her eyes grew wide, but she didn’t argue. She was perfect for me. I knew she would be. I didn’t have the time or patience to break in someone who didn’t know how to submit.

I sipped my coffee while Erin devoured a large platter of eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns and toast. When she had eaten every morsel, I decided it was time to get down to business.

“Tell me your story.”

Without much coaxing, Erin revealed that she was a first year med student with no family and no means to support herself. She had lost her tiny, ramshackle apartment, and her small scholarship didn’t cover much beyond the first year, let alone housing. She was stuck– either drop out and go back home to Idaho, or find other, less-appealing ways to support herself. That day, she had decided that maybe her dreams of becoming a doctor just weren’t going to come true.

“I have a proposition for you,” I told her.

“I’m not a prostitute,” she quickly interjected.

I smiled at her amusingly. “I would certainly hope not.”

I showed her my hand, explaining to her what I wanted and how I would compensate her for it. There, in a small diner in downtown Chicago, I asked about her sexual history (Two guys: an old boyfriend from Idaho and a one-hit wonder in undergrad), her level of inhibition (she considered herself a try-sexual: she’d try anything once), and her health background (squeaky clean: no glove, no love), all of which I had hardcopy proof of already. Then I paid the tab and took her back to my hotel room to sign all the necessary documents and begin the first phase of her training.

“Now, sweetheart, I need to know how far you’ll go. You’re not obligated to do anything you don’t want to, but there are places that I will touch you that will arouse you. That will arouse me. And I will want to fuck you. Hell, I want to fuck you right now.”

She sat on the bed, long, smooth legs crossed and eyes hooded. “I want that too.”

I touched her in places she never even knew were erogenous zones. I kissed her tight body until my lips burned. Then I fucked her long, deep and hard until she soaked the sheets with her wetness.