Sacred Prostitute: Teacher

All sexually active characters in this story are eighteen years of age or older.

———–

She knew exactly the effect she had on men.

Holly’s power didn’t come from a lipstick tube or a lingerie store—it amused and saddened her by turns when she realized most women thought so. It went much deeper than that.

“How old are you, Brian?”

He was incredibly young. Doe-eyes—big, brown and beautiful—blinked at her as if she were the brightest thing in the room. Looking around the dimly lit bar, older patrons intent on their drinks, the glow from the television just a ghostly shadow in the corner—she thought, perhaps, she was.

“Old enough to be here.” Brian shifted in his chair, and she noticed, the way she noticed everything, how his eyes moved over the cream-colored silk of her blouse, down to the respectable-but-intentionally-revealing V of her cleavage.

Holly smiled, reached across the table, and took his hand. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

His palm was wet—actually wet—and his fingers trembled, but the brave face he put on made her want to weep with compassion and even a little delight.

“My friend, he told me you could teach me…stuff…”

She sipped her water through a tiny straw, not answering, her eyes focused on him until his gaze dropped to the table. Holly was very careful, even fastidious. Her referrals came only through sources she trusted.

“This is the address.” Her business card was like the cream-colored silk of her blouse, soft and clean and bright, and she slid it across the table toward him. “Tomorrow, seven p.m.”

“How do I—”

She stood, shrugging on her long, black wool coat, pulling a thick length of curly, honey-colored hair from beneath the collar. “You’ll receive a text message tonight with further instructions.”

“I feel like double-oh-seven.” His grin was both nervous and goofy, but there was a cockiness in it that allowed her to glimpse the man he would become, and it thrilled her.

“Maybe not today.” Holly smiled as she pulled on her gloves. “But after tomorrow night?” She leaned over and brushed her lips against his ear, feeling him shiver as she whispered, “Your life will never be the same.”

There was no arrogance in her words and she left him there with them, his eyes glazed with anticipation.

And yet, she knew…he had no idea.

* * * *

“Breathe.”

Her whispered words seemed to force the air from his lungs in a long, trembling exhale.

They were both completely nude—she started virgins that way, with no pretenses or defense—and although his cock was like a steel rod nestled against the crevice of her behind as she straddled him, she ignored it completely, focusing her eyes on his, both of her hands resting in the middle of his chest. She was balancing herself, but doing much more than that.

“Do you want to touch me?” She knew the answer, but waited.

“God, yes.” One hand, held rigidly at his side, started to move, but stopped when she gave a slight shake of her head.

“How does it make you feel, that wanting?” She brought her face down closer to his, her eyes searching, her hair falling across his chest and shoulders. He give a small gasp, just a short intake of breath, his eyes half-closing in anticipation.

“Crazy,” he murmured, swallowing, licking his lips. “Like…like I would do anything. Anything for you. To you. I feel…I feel like a wild man. I want to…”

“Go on,” she encouraged, rocking her hips back slightly, feeling his cock jerk. “Don’t censor it. Tell me.”

“I want to… oh god.” He gasped again when one of her hands snuck behind her back, pressing his cock, which had made a wet precum trail along the groove of her ass. “Oh my god, that’s good. I want to fuck you, Holly, I want to be inside you.”

“Mmm.” She rubbed him a little faster, her expert thumb caressing the sensitive frenulum. “Good. More.”

“I have to.” His hips pressed her upward, and she delighted in his strength, how in-check it was in the moment, its potential for unleashing. “Oh please, I want you, I want to fuck you, take you…” He let out a low growl when she wrapped her hand completely around his cock. “I could devour you.”

“Yes!” She squeezed, released. Again. Again. “Tell me. Tell me, Brian.”

“Ahhhhh god I want to crawl inside you!” His hands went to her hips and she didn’t stop him, rocking back against his cock, still tight in her fist, her pussy spreading wetness over his lower belly. “I could tear you apart just to get inside you, ahhh god, I want you, every fucking inch of you.”

“Look at me—into my eyes.” Her word were breathless—it excited her to see him, to hear him, like this. His eyes were open, barely, but he focused on her face. “Do you feel it between us?”

He nodded, gulped.

“This is everything, right here, you and me.” She knelt above him, now, still straddling, one hand pressed against his chest, the other encircling his cock. “This is what moves the world. This is life. This is love.”

His eyes were wide now. She saw surprise, a glimpse of fear, realization. That last thrilled her as she positioned herself over him, guided him.

“Do you really feel it?” she whispered, his cock poised, ready.

His hands moved over her belly—soft, flat, quivering—cradling her hips in wonder, as if he held all of creation between his hands. And he did.

“Do you feel it here?” Holly squeezed his cock, eliciting a low moan.

“Yes.”

“Do you feel it here?” She rubbed her hand over his chest, his heart, looking deep into his eyes.

He swallowed, nodded. “Yes. Yes.”

“Remember,” she whispered, shifting her hips and letting him inside of her.

He was young, inexperienced, and had never felt the first blissful moment of entry. She didn’t expect him to last past that moment, and was surprised when his eyes stayed focused on hers instead of closing in climax, his hands steady on her hips.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words were so genuine they made her flush with pleasure, and she showed him her gratitude, moving her hips in slow, easy circles.

His eyes did flutter closed then, but she pressed him, “look at me,” and he did. “Don’t try to escape from the feeling. Come into it. With me.” She leaned in to capture his mouth, their kiss soft but full of feeling. “With me.”

He moved naturally, his hips rocking. “Oh my god.”

“Yes, exactly.” She smiled against his cheek, pressing her breasts to his chest. “This is how we make love, our flesh, in and out…” The sound of their wet coupling filled the room. “But we’re all making love, all of us, all the time.”

She felt him listening—his whole body was listening—and she took advantage of the teaching moment. “My breath. Your breath. In and out. That’s how we make love to the divine. It’s no different.”

Her lips trailed across his jaw, leaving soft, warm kisses toward his ear. “Spirit is everywhere. It isn’t up there or out there. It’s in here. In me. In you. Our flesh, joined. One.”

His hands tightened on her behind, pressing in deep, making her gasp and moan. At the sound of her pleasure, his cock swelled inside of her.

Holly hid her smile against his neck. “But we don’t have to talk about it. We can just feel it.” She used the tight, velvet muscles of her pussy to squeeze him, making his head rock, side to side, his eyes closing in blissful agony.

“And it doesn’t always look like this,” she murmured, urging him over with her, pulling him on top of her. He looked surprised but pleased by the change, propping himself above her. “Sometimes it’s raw. Animal. You know that feeling? That wild man feeling you told me about?”

He nodded, his eyes so hungry they filled her with heat. “I feel that, too. And I want to feel that from you.”

“You do?” he asked, cautious.

She arched, bit her lip, grabbed his upper arms and squeezed. “God, yes!”

“Oh Holly,” he groaned, his cock throbbing, literally throbbing, between her legs. She rarely felt such urgency anymore, and it made her melt.

“Show me!” she urged, pulling him closer, her teeth lightly raking his shoulder. “Don’t tell me this time—show me how you feel, how much you want—”

He growled and bucked on top of her, the force of his hips driving her into the bed, and she gasped at his need, taking everything he gave her and begging for more.

“Yes, Brian, yes yes!” she moaned, wrapping her long legs around his hips, using her heels to press him deeper. “Fuck me, baby! Harder!”

Her words spurred him on, and she knew he had to be close—that constantly observant part of her marveled that he’d made it this far already—but he was holding back, and she understood when his eyes met hers in the dimness.

“Do you want to make me come?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

“Then fuck me here, too.” She pressed a hand between her breasts, and he groaned, pressing his face against her neck, hiding from everything that had been and was being revealed, moment by moment. She thought it was over, that he would give up, but he surprised her.

“Holly, Holly,” he whispered into her hair, his thighs forcing hers wider, hips grinding. “Beautiful, amazing, wonderful, glorious woman…”

She flushed—her whole body flushed—as she met his thrusts.

“Goddess,” he murmured, biting at her nipple, making her pussy spasm in response. “Fucking goddess…witch…siren…whore…”

“Oh god,” she whispered when he found the perfect rhythm, his tongue bathing her nipple, sending electric sparks to her groin. “Don’t stop. Please don’t.”

He groaned, moving faster, hips pumping deep, deeper still, and Holly writhed beneath him, letting him take her there. She’d never faked an orgasm—and never would. What Holly gave, she gave completely, and she gave it to him now, a shuddering, gasping release, the pleasure rolling through her body again and again.

“Ahhhhh fuck!” He cried, his mouth crushing hers as he came, as if he could pour it all out, empty himself completely into her, body, breath, everything. She welcomed him with long limbs, whispered, heated words, coaxing every last drop out in long, quivering waves until he collapsed against her, breathless.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, touching his cheek, his jaw, until his dark eyes lifted to meet hers.