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  Whenever her subconscious had voiced concern about marrying Kyle, she’d silence it by remembering how much he loved her and wanted to marry her. She tried hard to remember those things now.

  Patting Allie’s hand, Carin said, “I know what I’m doing, Al. I appreciate your concern but Kyle loves me. He’ll be good to me.”

  The wedding bells rang clear that day and the reception went off without a hitch. Standing on the altar, and later in her backyard during the reception, Carin knew exactly what she had done. She had pleased the two men in her life…the new husband who had wanted to marry her more than anything and the proud father whom she had always lived to please. And that would have to be enough to bring her happiness.

  For a year, Carin had been content in her marriage. She wasn’t madly in love but she felt safe with Kyle and secure in her environment. A year after the wedding, when her parents were killed and she inherited their house on Drury Road, she moved into it with Kyle. Living there was stressful and she grew to feel less secure with Kyle. After their second year as husband and wife, his drinking began to escalate even beyond that of your average frat boy. He also became lazy, failing at an upholstery business he’d started and several others after it. Worst of all, after drinking all night he could no longer discern when Carin didn’t want to be touched. She felt compelled to fulfill his needs but the small amount of initial attraction she’d had for him eventually cooled altogether. She became less tolerant of beer breath and whiskers scratching her and hangnails hurting her and had concerns about bringing a child into an unhappy home. On the nights she didn’t respond to Kyle’s advances, he became verbally abusive—and evasive the next morning about where he’d run off to after his tirade. This went on for a longer time than she cared to admit.

  Carin had once showed Justin the divorce papers tucked in a drawer at her house, signed by her but not by Kyle. Other than that though, she said little to Justin about the situation and tried desperately to forget the whole convoluted mess.

  At least the little house on Drury Road was all hers. If Kyle came back, he wouldn’t be able to fight her for it. It was only a small ranch in a modest neighborhood but her name alone was on the deed. When she first brought up the idea of divorce with Kyle, he mistakenly thought he’d get half the house. His arguments were inane—“I love the house too!” “I’ve cared for the house!” “I installed the fucking dishwasher all by myself!”—but Carin did her best to make him understand that by Connecticut law the house was hers alone. They argued about it several times when Kyle was holed up in the Bridgeport motel. He eventually capitulated somewhat, suggesting they sell the house and split the money 70-30 in her favor. But Carin held firm, something she’d rarely done previously but had become more comfortable with during those final weeks. That’s when he threw a last fit and fled, leaving the papers unsigned.

  Chapter Eight

  As a commitment-phobic bachelor, for many years Justin had avoided long-term relationships like the plague. But there was no denying he was now a part of a couple. It had been less than a half-year since they’d met but he could picture being with Carin a long time. He never brought up the future in any serious way though. For him, having a steady girlfriend was change enough. Besides, with Kyle AWOL, they had no options, a fact that secretly gave Justin some comfort.

  With Carin’s concerns about Kyle looming larger and her future with Justin up in the air, Justin sometimes held back from being too sexually demanding of her. But with each passing month, he realized she liked him that way. It had become obvious that satisfying his desires was a desire of hers. Maybe being subservient lessened the responsibility she otherwise felt for her adulterous actions. Maybe being submissive was the only way she could let herself do the things she secretly desired. Whatever the psychology, through it all she maintained her playful innocence. Her virtuousness captivated Justin, as did her willingness to shed it and her ability to do so with insouciance. And so, knowing Carin was at her most comfortable when being told what to do, Justin became more domineering.

  He had once read in Penthouse that a woman’s gullet could be trained to remain open when her partner’s cock touched it, giving her the ability to deep throat. He was curious if this was true but until he’d met Carin he had never stayed with a woman long enough to test the theory. Either his previous lover knew how to deep throat or she didn’t—there hadn’t been time for training.

  One morning in bed, Justin told Carin what he’d read. He wasn’t sure how she’d react, as continually forcing his cock against her gag reflex would be the only way for her to learn. Carin said immediately she wanted to try it. To Carin, being Justin’s puppet wasn’t about being degraded or abused. It was about being eager to please the man she loved. It was about being guided by him and becoming excited by the excitement she saw in him when following his lead. She was thankful that Justin was open about his wants and needs and appreciated his strong desire for her. In return, she’d do almost anything to satisfy those desires.

  And so, early in March, they began what Justin jokingly dubbed “Puppet’s Deep-throat Classes”. Every night after work for a week, for a half hour or more, he’d sit in his leather chair in his bedroom with his robe open. Carin would be on her knees before him, either naked or in some new lingerie outfit or another. He’d push her head onto him, let her up, push down harder and not let her up until she’d gagged. On the first attempt, she’d jerked up with eyes blinking, taking a moment to recoup.

  “You okay, Puppet?” Justin said, laughing. “We can stop.”

  “No…I’m okay… I like how you are with me.”

  Her admission made him even harder than he’d been already. He threaded his fingers into her hair and moved his leg between hers, marveling at her slippery wetness as she rode his shin like a greased pole. When he pushed her head down again, he knew his actions would gag her. She drooled and moaned and did her best to take him in but eventually fought herself free again.

  “Sorry, baby,” she said, panting, her head resting on his thigh. “I couldn’t breathe for a sec.”

  She drew back momentarily, inhaled deeply, exhaled, and again placed her lips at the head of his penis. He threaded his fingers into her hair and held her head vise-like between his hands. When he pushed down, Justin could feel the tension release from her neck. It was as if she were completely on a string.

  She did not deep throat him that first night, nor the second, or the third. But on each passing evening, she took him in a little deeper than the night before. Justin would have stopped the lessons if he thought she didn’t like them but on two occasions, Carin had orgasms just by riding his shin while being subjected to his aggressive behavior. And so he continually stepped it up.

  On the seventh night, Justin had Carin lie back on the bed with her head dangling over the mattress like a Christmas ornament on a string. He was behind her, inserting his cock into her open mouth and down the straight line of her long-stretched neck. He pushed harder and longer than ever and was going farther. Carin was totally naked and saturated. Drool ran out her mouth and up her face. They had been at it for a good long time. Her body was spread before him like an exquisite buffet. He sampled all and then pumped her with two fingers while massaging her clit with his palm. Just before she came, her gullet popped open. It didn’t let loose slowly—it sprang open like an automatic door at a grocery store.

  The sensation of being sucked so deeply into Carin’s endless mouth made Justin feel immensely powerful. He continued pushing hard and stayed buried in her for several seconds. When he relaxed his hips, his cock slid out and he gasped.

  Carin blinked, drooled, panted and licked her lips…everything she could do to gather her composure while floating upside down through a sea of ecstasy. A ringing in her ears and thumping in her chest swept over her. She reached back and grabbed ahold of Justin’s cock as if a lifeline. Small beads of sweat formed at the crinkled nape of her neck. She stared up at his dick for several seconds; when she felt ready ag
ain, she craned her neck all the way and he pushed in. She took him in at once, going just as deep. For ten seconds, she stayed motionless and moaning with him seated in the back of her throat. When he pulled out she was giddy, almost euphoric. She looked back to Justin with wet, blinking eyes.

  “Was that it, baby? Did I do it?”

  “That was it exactly!”

  “And it felt good? You liked it?”

  “I loved it. I totally loved it!”

  “Good! I’m going to do it again!”

  And so she did, over and over, until he came five minutes later.

  It had taken a week but she had done it. Puppet had learned to deep throat.

  Of the girls Justin had been with over the years—party girls, jaded girls, loose girls—almost all of them were in it only for a good time with a man with money. In other words, they were girls with whom Justin was sure not to fall in love. He’d meet them in bars, the same way he’d met Carin, but the dance was a whole lot different with the party girls. They’d see his expensive suit and fondle his sleeve as he maneuvered past them. They’d put their fingertips to their lips when asked what they were drinking. They’d smile suggestively at the suggestive things Justin would say. At some point—usually at the moment Justin showed boredom—they’d let on with a sideways glance or a dip of the shoulder that one more drink would buy him what he’d been hinting at.

  Carin, of course, wasn’t jaded or loose. She was emotional and sensitive and had always been sweet and trusting. No matter how wild their sex life was becoming, Justin knew that the intimacy they shared was sacred to her and all about love. After her deep-throat classes, she’d cuddle into Justin closely, eventually falling asleep perched on top of him. With his other girls, Justin had lacked the intimacy and love and devotion Carin showed. In times past, after fucking one of the party girls, he’d roll over and go to sleep, hoping she’d be gone when he woke up. With Carin, he never wanted to roll over, never wanted her to leave. And he never wanted to stop making love. During the quiet periods after Carin’s deep-throat classes, Justin began to realize just how sacred their sex life was becoming to him too.

  * * * * *

  As Justin continued to open emotionally, Carin continued getting more comfortable with her newfound sexuality. She felt complimented by Justin’s libido, not put upon by it, even when he was forceful with her. For the first time in her life, she was comfortable in sexual situations and felt accepted for who she was during them. It was ironic that after having been so naive and innocent for so long, she was now becoming as sexual with Justin as even the loosest of his party girls. She made a point of learning exactly what he liked and loved giving herself in ways he wanted. As she’d mentioned on more than one occasion, bringing him pleasure brought her even more pleasure.

  For St. Patrick’s Day, they were invited to a party thrown by one of Justin’s business associates. Justin had an early morning meeting in New York the next day and didn’t want to go, but Carin convinced him, pointing out how little they socialized. He said he’d go if she bought a sexy dress for the occasion and wore it with a Kelly green thong underneath.

  Justin gave Carin his black Amex card and she shopped for hours, eventually picking a short, black cocktail dress with plunging neckline. At Victoria’s Secret, she picked a green thong adorned with silver studs shaped like little hearts. She also bought a black push-up bra. When she modeled the outfit for Justin later at home, he told her he loved the outfit but requested she wear the dress without the bra.

  Carin agreed to Justin’s request, and at the party, many men took notice. Justin was proud, not only because Carin looked so good but also because he alone could visualize her thong and amazing breasts underneath the dress.

  Throughout the night, if Carin leaned too much this way or that, her lucky admirers would get an eyeful of the delicious curved line of her breasts, yet she remained oblivious to her seductive charms. At one point, as she jiggled down a flight of stairs with the party’s hostess, Justin realized he was hard from just looking at her. A moment later, Carin was standing next to him.

  She whispered into his ear, “Make love to me.”

  Without delay, he took her back upstairs to a bathroom while cocktail conversations murmured below. Locking the bathroom door behind them, he lifted her onto the sink counter and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back until her shoulder blades touched the mirror. He slid her dress up her thighs, spread her legs and pulled her thong to the side. He was so hard he could barely stand it, and was soon giving her quite a pounding. As always, their parts fit together like a well-oiled machine.

  Carin’s pussy was very tight and she always came quickly, which in turn made Justin come quickly too. This night was no different. She loved him making love to her hard, so hard she’d get dizzy sometimes, and as he plowed into her she buried her face into the collar of his blazer to muffle her moans. When she came, it triggered his release and their orgasms passed like ships in the night.

  They cleaned up with one of their hosts’ monogrammed towels and buried the towel in the hamper. When they returned to the party downstairs, several men glanced at them curiously, much to Justin’s delight. Throughout the rest of the evening, Carin gave her boyfriend glances that said, “Only you, always you, whatever you want, forever.”

  * * * * *

  Back at the beach house later that night, Carin took off her cocktail dress and green thong and put on a thigh-length negligee. She lit many candles around the bedroom and she and Justin snuggled under the comforter, giggling at the prospect of their hosts finding their monogrammed hand towel stashed in the hamper. Justin rolled on top of Carin and reached down and guided his cock toward her wetness. He pushed his hips against hers and settled into her slowly while rocking her in his arms. They kissed tenderly, sweetly, with Justin taking time to whisper sweet nothings into her ear. They made love softly as the candles cast low shadows on the walls, and Justin sensed Carin might yet again be ready for something new.

  He pulled out and rolled her onto her tummy. The bedroom flashed with glimmering light and the scent of the burning candles had filled the room. Distant sounds of waves lapping against the shoreline came from beyond the balcony. Justin reached over to the bedside table and from the top drawer retrieved a small bottle of baby oil. He dribbled some into her crack.

  The next several minutes were slow and intimate, with many whispered words falling into Carin’s ear. Soon she was introduced to another new sensation, as cum filled her bum for the very first time.

  * * * * *

  Several hours later, the morning light came brightly through the window and interrupted Carin’s sleep. As she’d done on his birthday, she surprised Justin with her mouth. Justin woke with thoughts of the previous twelve hours flooding his brain. As Carin worked her magic on him, he reflected on screwing her fast and hard in their hosts’ bathroom, of making love to her tenderly later at home, of exploring her backside deep in the night…

  Carin swallowed when he came, something she did now with regularity. For weeks after first attempting it on love slave day, she’d kept a little green bottle of Perrier on the bedside table to help wash it down. After a while, she didn’t need the Perrier as much. At some point, she began looking forward to accepting all of what he had to offer and needed no water afterward. She knew it was what he wanted and felt close to him when he was in her belly, especially in the mornings, after he’d leave for a long day at the office. As well, if she were truly honest with herself, maybe she would have admitted that over time she’d grown a little fond of the taste of a man’s essence.

  All that morning, she was melty and squirmy after Justin left for his meeting. She was erect above the waist and wet below it. The remnants of him were in her tummy but that wasn’t enough to keep her from feeling the distance between them. She needed him with her, inside her. At noon, she called him at his office and pleaded with him to come home early. She wanted to try that anal thing again.

  Chapter Nin
e

  The money was rolling in at JC Chemical. Justin was not only trading fertilizers, but also over the last few years he’d bought several chemical manufacturing plants across the country. While the investments created a virtual monopoly in conjunction with his trading activities, keeping tabs on the plants and those who ran them took much of his time. He traveled often to facilities he already owned or ones he was considering purchasing. He missed Carin as much as she missed him and the phone sex no longer satisfied their overwhelming desire for each other.

  As he rode up the elevator to his office one day, Justin realized that his work was not as fulfilling as it once had been. When he started JC Chemical as a cocksure kid out of B-school, his philosophy had been simple—he came into this world with nothing and if he went out with nothing, he’d break even. He loved the risk and wasn’t afraid to take it. His first Manhattan condo had been used as collateral for every trade he’d made in the early years, and the risks had paid off, enabling him to pay cash for the house of his dreams. But while Justin had once been exhilarated by the success of mediocre deals, he now felt little enthusiasm after even the biggest ones.

  No doubt these feelings of dissatisfaction had a lot to do with the gratification he saw from Carin when she talked of her job in special education. She loved her students, loved planning simple learning assignments for them, felt great joy from their successes. Justin desired for himself some of the same satisfaction he saw in her.

  He and Carin complemented each other well. Having a Type-A personality, Justin hadn’t taken time off from work in years. He’d had little time or inclination for love and rarely thought of anything but work or his art collection. Until he met Carin, being emotionless was easy to do. He’d developed a cold exterior and offered little of himself to those he met. Carin, on the other hand, was warm and gentle, unapologetically sentimental, bordering on sappy. She was a lover of nature and a lover of animals. She seemed to have an almost Dr. Doolittle-like connection with them. It wasn’t surprising for Justin to come home from a hectic day to find her singing Kenny Loggins’ “Christopher Robin” to a wounded bird while feeding it from an eye dropper, or giving leftovers to Justin’s neighbor’s cat, even after having been asked several times by its owner not to do so.