in English
Indulgence
And then time fractured.
Memory became a kaleidoscope.
The rhythm changed: one sharp strike, then two longer, deeper ones. The first shattered an image; the next two brought it into vivid, merciless focus.
“There!”
…The hotel porter’s puppy eyes between her thighs. His mouth at her center. The ceiling above spinning with painted stars…
“Take that!”
…Diego’s sun-browned hands gripping her breasts. His thick cock driving between her legs. Drops of semen sliding down her knees. Real Spanish stars overhead on the wild beach near Salou…
“And that!”
…Convulsions of an incredible orgasm on the co-pilot’s lap in a cramped stewardess alcove at thirty thousand feet. His cock pulsing inside her while cold diamond stars burned beyond the window…
By the thirty-fifth strike she was howling—not from pain, but from the realization that she had nearly risked everything she cherished.
The belt fell silent.
“Back to the corner,” he said. “I need to change the sheet. You’ve made a mess.”
On the armrest where she’d writhed was a dark damp patch.
She covered her face and stumbled back to the wall, sobbing. Her ass burned fiercely. In the mirror she saw dark-red hemispheres, thighs flushed deep crimson. Not a single bruise. The redness lay in a perfect gradient; the stripes measured like ruled lines.
It didn’t make it easier.
“Come back. Set yourself up again.”
“No, please. No more.”
“Argue with me again.”
She returned.
“Not like that. Take another pillow. Feet on the floor. Bend.”
She didn’t understand at first, but obeyed.