Rapture's Rendezvous

squeezed one breast as his lips devoured the other, drawing a moan of ecstasy from deep within Sabrina.

“Aw, you are so hungry,” she purred. “Come to my bed. Let me show you Sabrina's ways of making a man lose his senses.”

Michael followed along beside her, hurriedly slipping his suit jacket off, then his collar, shirt and silk cravat. By the time he reached the bed, he had only his breeches and shoes to remove, but he found that he didn't have to use any more of his own efforts in doing so. The eagerness of Sabrina's fingers was already on him, quickly helping to expose his full nudity to eyes that were completely devouring him.

“Please lie back on the bed,” she said sternly. “I wish to first wash you with my perfumed oils.”

Michael's eyes widened. “You what?” he gasped, hesitating.

“It is my specialty,” she said, removing her chemise, letting it cascade to the floor, to settle around her feet. She urged him downward, pressing her fingers against his chest.

Michael propped two pillows beneath his head, watching her as she moved toward the basin. When she reached inside and pulled a wet satin cloth from the glistening pool of liquid, his'heart began to pound in anticipation. He could smell the perfumed oils. Was it some sort of aphrodisiac? The moment she placed the cloth against his abdomen and began to move it in slow, easy strokes, he felt a keen sense of sexual desire begin to build inside him. And as she continued to spread the perfumed oils, moving downward, across his thighs and then onto his manhood, he gritted his teeth and stiffened his body.

“So it does feel good, does it not?” Sabrina purred. She placed the cloth inside the basin, then climbed atop him, positioning herself so that one thrust was all that was required for him to plunge his manhood deeply inside her.

Sabrina's lips sought out his nipples, sucking, all the while working her breasts over the sleek wetness of his oiled body. He reached down and touched and probed between her thighs with his fingers, then guided himself inside her, knowing that it wouldn't be long before his peak would be reached.

“You're a skilled whore,” he grunted, moving his hips hurriedly, holding her closer to him, as though she were in a vise. “Worth every damn dollar.”

“Yes, yes,” he quickly added, thrusting even harder, feeling his heartbeats becoming erratic from the building excitement. “Give it to me, baby,” he groaned. “Show me just how much you are worth.” He heard a low rumble of laughter surface from deep inside her as she reached back and dug her fingernails into his buttocks, making him groan even more loudly as this had seemed to make his completion come in wild, angry spurts inside her.

His mind left him for those short, pleasurable moments of ecstasy, urging him to whisper, “Maria …”

His hand reached up around her neck and jerked her lips to his, kissing her fiercely, hungrily. “Maria,” he whispered again. “I love you, Maria. Oh, my God, how I love you….”

Another low, throaty laugh drew him to his senses. He set Sabrina free, watching her face twist in mockery as she continued to laugh. “You are not as all others I service,” she said, climbing from the bed. “You still speak of another woman when you are with me.”

Michael tensed. “I… did . . . ?” he whispered, remembering the other times.

“But I in time will change that,” she purred, pulling her chemise on. She reached inside her wardrobe and pulled a towel from it, then tossed it to Michael. “Yes. In time I will teach you to forget. But for now, wipe the oils from your body and be on your way.”

She went to the table and slid a drawer open and pulled a cigarette and match from inside it. She lit the cigarette, still watching Michael. “And what did you say your name was, handsome man?” she asked, slouching down into a chair, crossing her legs to swing one outward from her.

Michael climbed from the bed and began wiping his body with the towel. “I didn't say,” he grumbled, still brooding over the fact that he had once again spoken Maria's name while in the arms of another. . ..

“You are not going to reveal it to me?”

Michael eyed her closely, remembering how she had been capable of making him soar to such heights of gratification, even though he had once again been guilty of speaking Maria's name. Maybe this whore could make him soon forget. Then he would be free of all his haunting memories and dreams. “Michael,” he said. “Only Michael.” He hurriedly dressed, then pulled a roll of bills from his inside jacket pocket, handing her two fifties.

Sabrina went to her wardrobe and reached in, hiding the money. She turned to face him, licking her lips, then said, “And, handsome Michael, I can expect to see you again? Yes?”

Michael sucked in his abdomen, buttoning his jacket. “Often,” he said, walking toward the door.

“You had better make a reservation before your next visit,” she said, clinging to the door as he now stood with it open. “Safer that way. I have a good clientele, but yet, some might cause you some trouble if they see you taking up too much of my time.”

Shadows creased Michael's face, feeling a bit dirty when she talked about so many men always using her body, the same as he had just done. “Yeah. Sure,” he said thickly, then turned and rushed down the hall, stopping to stare down the staircase, checking to see that no one recognizable was in the lobby. He knew that even though he was a man with special needs, he still had to be discreet. His name was becoming more and more influential in Saint Louis. He wanted everyone to continue looking upon him as a citizen one could fully respect and admire.

“My God,” he muttered beneath his breath when he caught sight of Nathan Hawkins approaching the stairs. No one could mistake that craggy face, with its briar-thicket eyebrows and bushy gray mustache. As Nathan Hawkins stepped onto the bottom step, Michael stood as though frozen, seeing the lights from the ceiling reflecting on this man's bald head. When his narrow, gray eyes shot upward, Michael jumped aside, eyeing the area around him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found a linen closet door behind him. He would have to hide there. In no way did he want to meet Nathan Hawkins face to face. The time for that was in the future … but only when Michael felt it necessary for the welfare of the union . . . and the coal miners.

With haste, he stepped inside the linen closet, leaving a crack from which to watch where Hawkins was going. When Nathan Hawkins knocked on Sabrina's door, Michael's face drained of color, thinking of himself having just left Sabrina's room. If he had been slower at getting dressed, he would more than likely have run head on with the bastard.

Then Michael couldn't help himself. He bent double, muffling a laugh, hardly able to envision the likes of Nathan Hawkins in bed nude with a woman.

“How could any woman . . .” ?” he said, choking on the words. “Even . . . a . . . whore . . . ?”

Counting out the last few coins in the palm of her hand, Maria felt a weariness settling around her heart. She knew that Alberto's luck at playing cards hadn't been as good as it had been on the ship. Instead, he had drained the Lazzaro family of the last of their grocery money, meaning that Maria had to find a way to replace the money, or confess this obsession of Alberto's to her Papa.

“I don't like this responsibility of being in charge of the Lazzaro family's monies,” she sulked, dropping the few coins into a fruit jar, screwing the lid on tightly. “Alberto is better at figures than I. But Papa said it was my duty since I am home all day with nothing besides household chores to do.”