Priest_by_Sierra_Simone 3

have you forgotten?”
How could I be his when he had a fucking wife? I asked him that.
And he responded that he didn’t give a shit about her—which is probably
the truth. But he told me he married her because he needed someone proper,
someone he wouldn’t worry about his clients wanting to fuck.
And then he said that wasn’t me. Said I screamed sex with my tits and my
mouth, and not only did I always want it, but I always looked like I wanted it.
And he couldn’t have that in the precious Haverford family portrait.
The worst thing was, I knew he wasn’t saying it like an insult. Those were
just the facts. People like us weren’t supposed to be this way. We were
supposed to be reserved and cold. Thin and bloodless. Sex was either a
necessity or a calculated affair. And now Sterling wanted me to be his
calculated affair. I had loved him and he wanted to keep me as his pet
mistress, in a box that had no place for real love or a real future.
But while I was thinking all of this, he was unzipping himself, and he was
so hard, so mouthwateringly hard, and I couldn’t help it—I knew he was
married, I knew he was an asshole, but it had been so long, too long, and I
had loved him once…
Are you judging me right now, Father Bell? Are you thinking about what a
dumb bitch I am? I know you aren’t, you aren’t like Sterling and me. The
words “dumb” and “bitch” have probably never even come out of your
mouth in the same sentence. But I was thinking it then, just like I’m thinking it
now. I was stupid. But I was also lonely and heartbroken and so fucking wet
it was dripping down my thighs.
Then I let him fuck me. Because he was right, I do like it, I do always want
it. And as he slammed into me over and over again, I told him to tell me the
fantasy, this life he was offering me. And he did, goddamn him, and it all
sounded so perfect coming from his lying businessman’s mouth. He told me
about the lazy afternoons we’d spend together, the expensive restaurants he’d
take me to, the orgasms he’d give me on top of smooth Egyptian cotton
sheets. He told me about the flowers and jewelry and vacations in Bora Bora
and expensive cars and everything else that would fill up our illicit life
together, all while I ground myself on his cock, ground myself towards the
best orgasm I’d had since college.
He was cursing by this point, folding me over the bench and driving into
me from behind while he pressed my face against the leather and I felt the