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“You’ll be down on your knees and you’ll cry,
Cry for absolution!”
“Absolution”, Ghost
Copia has her up against the wall. She holds his tie in her hand, stretching it taut between them. You see him press his knee in between her legs. You see the way she looks at him, like she wants to eat him alive--and he looks back at her, his head tilted down. You stare in horror as she tugs him down by the tie into a messy kiss. Unable to look away, you feel your face flush hot with redness, awash with embarrassment and betrayal. Copia breaks the kiss and looks up to meet your eyes across the room just as you blink and turn away, shoving past other party guests to get out of the room.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! you think as you rush out of the ballroom into the entryway. How could you think what you two had was special? He’s a slut, just like every other man, and has plenty of loose women at his disposal. Just because he wears a cassock and sings romantic songs to you doesn’t mean he won’t break your heart.
The hurt serves as tinder for rage to flood your veins. How dare he? How dare she? You grab a half-finished drink from a table and down it. Sneaking closely behind one of the wait staff, you dive behind the bar and grab a handle of whatever bottle you can reach first, then slip away out the back door.
Back in your room, you drink to try to forget about him. You look at pictures of old boyfriends, text a few, and even watch some internet porn. Nothing can distract you. You end the night tangled up in your bedsheets, plotting your revenge against him. You imagine his face, pale and lined, with those black circles streaking with tears. His handsome, charming face…damn it. Even watching him kiss another woman hasn’t hardened your heart to him. But still having some self-respect, you resolve to give him a taste of the pain he’s caused you.
--
“How can I make it up to you?” he asks, his head hanging in shame.
“Don’t even try to apologize,” you spit, tightening your hands into fists. “If you want to be with her, go ahead, see if I care.” On the night following the party calamity, he has come to your room, still dressed in his Ministry wear after having finished the day’s duties.
“I don’t want her,” he says, raising his eyes to meet yours. “I want you.”
His face is somber, his eyebrows knitted, his lips sagging in a frown. His deep eyes pull at your heart. He looks like a scolded puppy.
“You should have thought about that when you kissed the bitch right in front of me.” You hold strong. You need him to know how he hurt you.
“That wasn’t me kissing her, that was the…Jägermeister,” he says, knowing the excuse is lame.
“It was you. You were looking at her like you wanted to fuck her. For all I know, you did after I left. Did you?”
“No! No, that was it,” he says, holding his hands out. “When I saw you there, well, I tried to follow you, but you were gone.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Please,” he pleads, repeating your name, clasping his hands in front of him. “It meant nothing. She’s nothing to me! Ah, I don’t even know her name!”
“You hurt me very badly,” you say, the anger leaving your voice for a moment for your betrayal to bleed through. “It stung to see that. I want you to only look at me like that. That may be selfish. I don’t care. If you want to be with me, it has to be exclusive.”
“Forgive me, cara mia ,” he says, taking a step toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him.
“I don’t think I can, Copia.”
“Please,” he says. To your surprise, he sinks down to one knee before you. “Please, forgive me. I know I’m a good-for-nothing, an alcoholic, and I can’t control myself. I’ll be better.”
You turn up your nose. You do enjoy looking down upon him. “You’ll have to beg better than that.”
“My love, you are the brightest star in the sky, while I am, ah, a worm down here in the dirt,” he continues, lowering his other knee to the ground, and sinking down, his cassock spreading out over his lap. “I am a dog, a mongrel, who deserves not to walk the same ground as you. But I dare to beg your forgiveness.”
You raise your eyebrows, impressed with his performance. But is it to be believed?
“Copia, I simply don’t believe you,” you say.
He takes in a quick breath, a gasp. “I’ll do anything! You have so much power over me, cara mia, you’re all I want, all I need! I’ll beg! I’ll grovel!” He puts his hands on the floor and crawls on all fours to your feet, keeping his face pointed down.
Your resolve is beginning to waver. Fucking Hell, seeing him crawl across the ground for you is doing something.
“You are a dog,” you say, and he tilts his head up to try to read your expression. “ And a whore. And you can’t handle your liquor.” He whimpers quietly. Unknown to you at his moment, he’s already at half-mast underneath his cassock.
“I like hearing you beg,” you say, leaning forward and placing your hand under his chin. “I think, maybe, I could find it in my heart to forgive you… if you apologize some more.”
“Yes, I will,” he says, nodding enthusiastically. “You are so gracious and generous, to forgive a disgusting sinner like me.”
You sigh and your mouth curls into a small smile. He sees your approval. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he rasps, sitting back on his heels again. “I’ll wear a chastity belt. I’ll follow you around on a leash.”
Your eyes widen at the mental image that elicits. “And I’ll be the only woman you have eyes for?”
“Yes, my love! I won’t look at another woman again.”
“Good. Now, I think I could be even more forgiving if you had fewer clothes on.”
He teeters on his crouched knees as he processes this information. He nods once and starts with removing his rings, then his black leather gloves, placing them to the side. You stand and watch as he removes his hat, cowl, then starts unbuttoning his cassock. He works on the many buttons, the thick red fabric falling away to reveal his pale skin. You suck in a breath at seeing his bare shoulders, then his chest, covered with a spattering of curly brown hairs. He starts working on the skirt, and you watch with bated breath until he’s down to his underwear. He meets your eyes to make sure you’re watching his striptease, then hooks his thumbs in the waistband and pulls that off too.
You struggle to not pounce on him. He resumes his kneeling position below you, looking up with that wanton expression. His thighs bulge where they press against his calves. He lays his hands lightly on his hips. You admire his even shoulders and his immaculate posture, his wide chest, his trim waist, and your eyes land on his cock. It hangs between his legs, stiff and long, bobbing slightly with each breath.
“What else can I do?” he asks in a quiet voice. You push one knee forward toward his face, and he places his hands gently on either side, caressing you. He plants a gentle kiss on your thigh, closing his eyes at the contact. You place the sole of your shoe on his thigh, letting him kiss up and down your shin. You nearly fall into his trap of temptation, but you remember yourself and step backwards away from him across the room. The distance between you is excruciating, but he stays where he is and looks at you, his eyes pleading.
“Crawl.” You point at the floor before you. His eyes alight with passion. He likes you telling him what to do, that’s incredibly clear now. He obeys and returns to all fours, crawling toward you. You see the sway of his bare back as he moves, the way he places each hand like a prowling panther. Squeezing your thighs together, you feel the wetness starting to pool there.
He takes his time, making sure you watch every second of his display of apology. He reaches your feet again, stooping low to kiss at your shoe, and you admire his nice back sloping up to his bare ass. He starts undoing the straps of your shoes, slipping each one off your heel in turn. You push his head up with your knee, then press your stockinged foot against his crotch. He audibly swallows as you press your sole against his length, rubbing it against the crease of his hip.
“You’re filthy,” you say, seeing on his face how much he loves it. “I shouldn’t let such a filthy man touch me.”
“Maybe you want to be dirtied by me,” he suggests, lightly touching your thigh again. He’s right, of course. But that’s not part of the charade. You press down harder with your foot, and he groans, his back curling forward. You release the pressure, and he looks up with an almost-diabolical smile on his face.
“May I?” he asks, reaching up to trace his fingers over the top of your stocking. You nod, and he pulls the fabric down, kissing the bare skin as it is revealed to him.
“Cara mia ,” he breathes as his mouth inches closer to your crotch, pushing up the fabric of your dress. He tries to nuzzle his nose into your panties. You grab his hair and push his face in, grinding over his mustache and nose. He tries to reach up and pull your panties down, but you slap his hands away.
“Don’t expect me to touch you, you filthy dog, so you’d better touch yourself,” you say, watching with eager eyes. His hands slide from you down to his own crotch, where he takes his cock in his hand and starts pumping it slowly. You keep his face buried in your panties, and he breathes in your scent like it’s oxygen and he’s underwater.
Stepping away from him again, you move to sit on the edge of your bed, and he repositions to face you. You take the opportunity to slide your own panties off, then your dress, tossing it aside carelessly, as if he weren’t there. When you do turn your attention back to him, he’s watching you intensely, and working his cock at an impressive pace.
You push back farther onto the bed and spread your knees open. His eyes zero in on your cunt and his mouth falls open. The lights glisten off your wet lips, enticing him like a siren song. He places his free hand on the floor, leaning towards you, and lets out a whimper. You trace your fingers over your pussy lips languidly. You sigh dramatically, making it known you’re finding your pleasure without him. The muscles in his shoulders tense as he restrains himself. After a few more minutes of teasing, you can’t handle him looking at you like that anymore.
“Copia, come here,” you command, and he scrambles across the floor to your bedside.
“Yes, my love?” he asks breathlessly, practically pawing at the edge of the bed.
“I have decided my forgiveness depends on your performance tonight,” you state, inviting him in between your legs. “If you impress me, then I’ll forgive you completely.”
“Oh, I’m going to spoil you,” he says, dipping his head towards your pussy. “You’re going to know how much I worship you.”
You watch as he presses his lips to your cunt. The contact sends a shiver up your spine, and your legs twitch. He hums happily into your folds, and his tongue slips out and licks deeply into you. A stuttering moan escapes your throat, and he glances up at you, continuing his lapping.
He’s always been good at eating cunt, and today is no exception. His technique is a combination of lustful hunger tempered by cautious precision. He goes in with great enthusiasm, but always checks in to make sure he’s hitting the right spots. And, oh, he is. He gingerly introduces two fingers to your entrance, all the while ravishing your clit with attention from his tongue. There’s no teasing or coy restraint tonight; he’s fighting for his life down there.
“The sounds you make are so sexy,” he says, lifting his face for a moment. “I could never resist you.”
“Don’t think flattery will save you, Copia,” you warn, indicating that he should continue using his mouth in a more suitable way.
“You are the goddess Aphrodite,” he waxes on, and you giggle at his theatrics. This guy. “And I’ve always placed very high value on the female orgasm, you know this. So I like to hear you enjoying my tongue.”
“Copia,” you whine, and he quiets down and resumes his attention on your clit. But you don’t want him to get the satisfaction of making you come so soon, so you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away again.
“I want to hear your sounds now, Copia,” you say menacingly. “Get up here.”
He finally climbs into bed with you, rubbing his knees which must be sore from all that crawling and kneeling.
“Bruised knees are a sign of a pious worshiper,” you comment, not feeling sorry at all. He deserves it. You indicate that he should lie down as you did, on his back on the bed. His cock falls hot and heavy against his abdomen, his balls hanging down between his thighs. You didn’t have much of a plan, but you can improvise.
You grab his balls in one hand, your fingers tightening around the base, squeezing them. He grunts like he’s been punched, and his torso tightens up. You hold them tightly, but not cruelly, and listen to the sound of his labored, tense breathing. Holding his gaze, you lean over and run a flat tongue across them, and he lets out a high-pitched sound like a soft whine. It’s intoxicating. You do it again, and he makes the same sound. You keep it up, sucking one testicle into your mouth, rolling it around with your tongue, and he squirms and writhes. It falls out of your mouth with a wet pop! and you see a clear bead of precum drip from his tip onto his stomach. You give his ballsack a light tap, and he flinches, exhaling in a huff. You lie on your stomach, propping yourself up with your arms, and come face-to-face with his cock. Teasingly, you graze your teeth over his velvet skin, and it jumps up against your cheek at the contact. He whimpers at your teasing, and you blow a hot breath over his dick, letting him suffer.
“You hurt me, but I still want you so bad, Copia,” you admit, gazing at his cock with longing. “I want your cock deep inside me.”
He seems to relax a bit now, relieved that his begging has finally paid off. “My love, you can have all of me.”
You smile, showing teeth, and rise to your knees and straddle him. A new idea has sparked in your mind. He watches your face carefully, trying to anticipate your next move. When you drag your wet pussy over his cock, he groans and ruts upward into you. You allow it, but keep him on the outside, enjoying the friction over your lips and clit, rocking your hips back and forth. Then, you line him up and sink down, finally letting him feel you inside, taking his unfaithful cock balls deep.
His eyes close and his head falls back at the initial penetration. A rumble starts deep in his chest that drives you to start moving, riding him up and down, forward and back. You take your pleasure from him, and his hands grab around the meat of your hips, guiding you and aiding your movement. His tongue work from before has you pretty close, but you hold back your speed for a while, edging yourself on his dick, and earning those ungodly noises from him.
“Ah, ah, ah~,” he grunts, watching as your tits bounce. You lean forward and place your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself, picking up speed. He rearranges his legs to drive up into you as well, matching your pace. The friction against your g-spot is delectable, and you’re almost there--if you could just reach--the fingers of one of your hands finds your clit, and with a few hard rubs, you come on his dick.
Your pace slows as you rock yourself through it. His face is there in your blurred field of vision, as the sparks fly up and down your flesh, and your cunt convulses around his length. It’s an orgasm filled with relief and revenge. You pause for a second to come down, and meet his eyes again. He beholds you with such reverence, it’s like he has witnessed the divine.
You can’t stop, though, not until he’s finished. He tries to switch positions, but you refuse, and go so far as to pin his arms down on either side of his head. He grins again, face flush with arousal, at your continued boldness. You bounce up and down like a bunny on his rock-hard cock, which is getting harder, if possible. His eyes start to roll back and his growling gets louder.
“Ohh, fuck, yes, like that, cara mia--,” he implores, begging you to keep going. You watch with satisfaction and squeeze with your pelvic muscles, making him twitch and squirm. He’s close.
“Fuck, yes!” he cries, thrusting up into you, and as soon as you feel the first pulse of his orgasm, you jerk your hips up, letting his cock fall out of you. His eyes fly open again and stare at you with a wild, disbelieving expression. His hands are still bound by yours, so he can’t even touch himself to alleviate the loss of your pussy. His cum leaks out onto his stomach, wasted, as his cock bobs and twitches, devoid of any contact. You’ve ruined him. His mouth hangs open in shock as you flash him another smile. Releasing his arms and rolling off him, you smooth your hair back and settle beside him on the pillow.
“I had no idea…you were capable of such…evil,” he says, reverence and respect creeping into his voice.
You place a hand in his salt-and-pepper hair to stroke it gently. “I’m capable of much more than that, too, if you care to find out.”
He beholds you with a newfound fascination. “My love, I’m on my knees any time for you.”
“Alright,” you say with a bright voice. “Let’s try it again, from the top. I think some improvements can be made.” His eyes widen in bewilderment, and you giggle again.
“Oh, Copia. You didn’t think we were done, did you?”