Lust, Hate and Paradise Ch. 01

"Just..."

Sarah looked up and her white powdered face blossomed out of the darkness. She pushed a finger against my mouth shushing me.

"Don't you like my lips?" she asked speaking directly to my cock. She lovingly kissed the balls, shaft, and cockhead.

"So you do want to give it to me?" She asked, her eyes never leaving mine. Her pinky softly circled the top of my shaft. "But I've been trying so hard." Her pinky moved just under the crown and stroked softly up and down. "I've been doing everything I can, but you won't give it to me."

She took off the silky black gloves and dropped them beside the bed. Her hands dipped behind her and it seemed like she was searching for something under the bed. As she straightened up again, I saw something small in her hand.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Shh... I have better uses for your tongue than just blowing air around."

There was a gushing and then she rubbed her hands together.

"Maybe I just don't turn you on, John?" Now I felt her hand moving against my cock, but they were cool and wet covered with a lotion she slowly rubbed over my dick. As she rubbed harder the cream warmed.

I groaned and a drop of precum began beading at my pisshole.

"Oh...that was a little disappointing. After all my hard work that's all the cum you can give me? That wasn't much of an orgasm."

The lotion was heating up. She kept jacking me with one hand as her other dipped under the bed again. She kept jacking me one handed and then leaned down to take just the head of my cock in her mouth. Just as her lips settled in just under the glans, I felt something very cold and hard around the puckered ring of my asshole. "Pleassssssse?"

She pulled off with a wet pop. "Poor baby, if I only knew what you wanted." Immediately she dove back down on my shaft and began jacking my cock harder as she let what had to be an ice cube just lay against my asshole.

"Oh God." All that time Sarah had left me poised at the point of climax and my need was shooting through me. Sweat was running down my face and the stimulation had gotten so bad that it was pain.

She popped her mouth off my cock. "Maybe if I get closer to you, I can understand what you're saying." She tossed the ice cube away and nestled her head close to my cock. Now the only stimulation was the warming cream and the cool touch of her hair against my cockhead.

"I guess it's hopeless..." she said looking up at me, smiling devilishly.

"Pleassssee... OHHHHH!"

As I was screaming out, her mouth dove over my cockhead. She plunged down and was just coming back up when my cum exploded. I could feel each stream, each pulse starting as a sensation of pain in my forehead and a ribbon of cum that I felt connecting my cock to the back of her mouth in an electric circuit.

Even after shooting six strong streams of cum, the orgasm seemed to continue my body penis twitching two, three, four more times but not producing any more cum.

I tried to catch my breath. Sarah nestled her body into my side and I felt her hand stroking softly, kindly against the side of my face.

She kissed me just under my ear and rubbed her hand soothingly over my stomach.

"John, maybe you should check if I'm still conscious."

"Oh, just shut up and let me lick your pussy." Sarah clambered up my body and settled in comfortably, her knees resting on my pillow and her hands balanced against the headboard. Looking up into the beauty of her sparse tiny pussy, there was a moment where I bared my teeth and stared savagely at it, but quickly the moment passed and ran my tongue up the length of her wet lips before settling into a game of hide and seek with her swollen clit.

***

Having a doctor on call was only one of the perks of yacht board life. If I ever sat down and really looked at how much all this cost me, it would make me nauseous. But one of the advantages of money is ignorance, never having to wonder if you could afford something or where the next rent check or car payment was coming from.

The doctor pronounced Sarah fine, though she did tell her to stay awake for 24 hours. Actually, I was glad for the diagnosis because I didn't feel like laying sleeplessly in the dark. The only problem was Sarah's need to apologize every hour. She had gotten so used to it, she did it without thinking. Though I know her heart was in the right place, it didn't do much for my sexual self-confidence to hear her apologize right after we had sex.

We kept to ourselves and were happy to spend the time together. In 24 hours there wasn't more than a half hour where we weren't in physical contact. We didn't talk about Sarah's game. When we kissed they were silly smooches or quick pecks on the cheeks. Sarah made a game of hugging me every time I said her name. The only time we turned up the heat was in ridiculous situations, playing "I spy" games for places we hadn't had sex in yet. Three times we were interrupted in the middle of things. Our only extended satisfaction came from a fuck in the yacht's walk-in freezer.

For everyone else, I'm sure it was pretty sickening, but it felt right to us. Mara or any of the other pretty girls on the yacht didn't enter my mind for a second. Even when a very cute blonde I had my eye on caught me alone coming back from talking to the captain, I put her off. Finally the 24 hours were up and though we were in bed we were tired enough that we didn't even think about sex.

My eyes had only been closed for ten minutes when the nightmares started. Every time I woke I felt Sarah beside me and saw the alarm clock's big red display. Though it was nice to have the light, having the clock so close made me that more conscious that I was sleeping in half hour shifts. When I woke up sweaty for the fifth time, it was enough and I gently disentangled myself from Sarah's limbs.

The cellar kept creeping up on me. Awake I was fine, but the moment my eyes closed the feeling came back. Falling asleep was like shifting into was like going back there. If this was like what happened the first time, I was going to have a lot more nights like these. That first time the really bad nights ended after about 10 months, but I didn't have a good night's sleep until I was in college. It was the night I lost my virginity that I was able to leave all those memories behind.

Ten months like this? After just one day I was a mess and whether that was from just lack of sleep or reliving the moment I didn't know. One thing I did know was that I was dangerously clean and sober. For the last two days, I'd had nothing worse than alcohol and it had been a couple glasses of wine and a Sangria.

Doing whiskey shots alone in the dark is pretty stupid. It really wasn't what I wanted, but at least it took something off the edginess. Unfortunately all my hidey holes in the cabin were coming up empty.

From what the captain had told me we would be coming to anchor in Tahiti just a couple hours from now. I couldn't even handle being with Sarah now. Fuck it, Sarah's game was supposed to be the maiden voyage of responsible John, or as it seemed to me, red wine and occasional pot smoker John. But giving up the craziness was a small price, I was going to become a working writer again.

If it wasn't for the contracts I would tell the Suits to screw themselves. After all I'd told my agent, Lexa, to fuck off a half dozen times now, so why couldn't I do it to the Suits? There was a part of me that wanted Lexa gone; once she left the business was all just meaningless crap. But Lexa was an old friend and because of that I was treating her like shit. It was her bad luck to have her career linked to mine. The harder she pushed me, the better I lied, stringing her along with promises to deliver to her rough pages of the franchise. All I had on the fifth novel was an idea and thirty four drafts of the first paragraph.

Even if it weren't for the cellar flashback, after the fucked up period of moderation, I needed a nice two hour bong hit. My entire body needed to marinate in pot. To prepare for last night Sarah had made me spend 24 conscious hours clean and basically sober. It must have been shock that had kept me clean.

There was a whispery knock on the door. From the sound it had to be Mara and with it my jumpiness calmed. I opened the door staring at the ground and letting my gaze travel up her thin sculpted legs. Her tiny red short shorts framing the size 0 cradle of her hips was worth staring at for hours. Her gauzy white shift was more lingerie than blouse and put her small breasts on wonderful display. Her clean, sloped, perfectly symmetrical face, high cheekbones, and lovely green eyes, just screamed model at you.

She struck a cool pose in the doorway. "Do you need me yet?"

"In so many ways you can't imagine. I want to bend you over the rail right now, but maybe we should start with something to get us in the mood."

"My body's not doing it for you then?" Before I exploded with need, she pulled her hand from behind her back.

I let out a sigh of relief when I saw two baggies of pot and a smaller baggy with rolling papers. I beckoned her in with a finger.

"Not here, I don't want to wake up Sarah."

Mara giggled and followed me through the main room to the bathroom.

I opened the baggy and relaxed breathing in deeply. I quickly rolled a joint and continued rolling them until I had made five thick ones. About half of the first bag was used up,

Mara reached under the sink and came up with a vial of white powder and a small straw.

"Do you really need that?" I asked, wondering how I had missed that hidey hole.

She giggled. "Not really, but it just seems wrong going into a bathroom and not have a little coke."

I shook my head. "I thought you weren't modeling now."

"Not for a couple weeks at least." Mara leaned over and softly kissed me on the lips. "You stupid little man, that's not why I was planning on using it."

It was a measure of my distraction that I didn't freak out at Mara's kiss. For all that we flirted constantly, Mara and I had never slept together. After hearing Mara's come on, most men would already be humping her leg. Certainly, my cock was hardening and ready to buddy up with her pussy, but that was just my body.

Sarah and I were hardly exclusive. Maybe we had gravitated together for the last couple of weeks, but nothing had ever been said about us being exclusive. I got distracted as Mara tapped out the powder onto a hand mirror.

I shook my head. "God, I want to be fucked-up mellow, not fucked-up hyper. Doing pot with coke supercharges the cocaine. If you do that you're going to be bouncing off the walls."

Mara kissed me again. "Maybe I have something in mind that's going to take a lot of energy..." She smiled as she used a razor to form the powder into a line. "It'll just be a baby line." She looked at me questioningly and after a moments hesitation I nodded my head and she poured a second tiny line.

Well, it wasn't like I was in any 12 step program.

I was still sniffling as Mara grabbed by hands and started pulling me out of the bathroom. Sarah had flopped over onto her stomach and was snoring up a storm. Mara took one look at Sarah and started pulling me toward the cabin door. "Occupancy one in here, John."

When I hesitated, she pivoted back to me, her hands slipping to the small of my back. Up close her eyes were clear and white and that perpetual frown wrinkle that had hovered over the bridge of her nose was gone. She smiled enigmatically even as her hands stroked me from spine to shoulder blades.

God at that moment, all I wanted to do was throw her down on her back and make love to her for hours. Mara's still, beautiful face and slim elegant form belonged in museums not fashion rags. I've had the most silly fantasies of dressing her up as the Mona Lisa or as Madame X and then giving her a head start and run her down and when I caught her I would make wonderful artistic love to her.

We had come as close to making love as was humanly possible and always one of us had held back. For me it was that fantasy getting in the way. Having her half drunk, bent over a Jacuzzi rail, or taking her as the two of us surfaced in an orgy, just wasn't it. As long as she just wanted to call it sex, I took a pass. Sadly Mara had passed on me many more times than I had on her. Once in fact when I caught her at a private viewing at the MOMA. The woman in the painting she was looking at was rubenesque while Mara was a toothpick, but still in some way they were the same. Mara chatted with me briefly. She was by herself that night, but made noises about some friend. I still had to try. That night she turned me down just as she always had. Mara gave me a sad, but aloof smile and then steadied my shoulder as she leaned in for a cool kiss on the cheek.

Her smile now was nothing like her usual half mocking one and I just wanted to stare at her forever. Mara was still holding me and I was still bathing in her beauty.

"I'll have to ask you what that smile is about later ..."

She gave me an aunt's kiss on the cheek. "The time for talk is over. Now we need to find a mellow spot and get started." She spun out of our hug and began pulling me toward the door. "We'll do it in my cabin. There's lots of room to spread out and make noise in there," she whispered, nodding toward Sarah and pulling on my arm.

"Okay just hold on a second..."

But I hadn't taken a step toward my clothes before Mara pulled me back to face her. "No, this is a clothing optional cabin. Very trendy and popular so if we don't get there soon, we won't get in."

She grabbed my ass with both hands. The kiss was still the same aunty's kiss on the cheek. Except for where her hands were and the double handed goosing she gave me I would have expected Mara to take a tissue from her purse and start rubbing a spot of lipstick off my cheek.

When she pulled on my arm again, I put up no resistance. In the hallway she turned back to me. "Just because I want to play doesn't mean I want to have sex." She ran her hand through my hair. "I am sorry to disappoint you, if I was. Or were you just leading me on again waiting until you got me too excited and then saying no?" She winked at me and started running for her cabin.

I caught up with at her open cabin door. She tossed me the baggies. "While I'm cleaning up, why don't you get started. It looks like you need to calm down."

The first thing I did was open the drapes and look out on the ocean for a second. I didn't worry about what time it was or even look out on the breathtaking blue that was the calm Pacific; all I cared about was that it looked like the sun was going to set. Though it looked like it would be light out for a couple hours yet, I turned on all the lights in the cabin.

Grabbing an ash tray I sat myself back against a wall. Mara was taking forever getting cleaned up, but I was working with a purpose trying to get as much THC into my system as quick as possible. I got the last small puff out of the first joint and then laid back and closed my eyes. There was plenty of light in the room, but even if there hadn't been I was set. You know, if I could figure out how to put this into a portable inhaler, I could have been a coal miner.

"John, time to open your eyes."

My erection came back to life even as I was still trying to figure out what was going on. Yes, Mara was nude and that was good. It was okay that there were paint cans and brushes at her feet. But it was really strange that she had small blotches of red, yellow, blue paint on her abdomen. Also there was an old bench she lying back on and that was strange too because there was a large soft bed in the room. Of course I still felt good, and my erection approved of this no matter what the reason was. It shouldn't be that excited this fast except there was something about the still look of Mara's eyes ... shit this was my fantasy.

"Maestro," Mara said, dipping a finger in the red glob of paint of paint, "your canvas is waiting."

I picked up one of the paint cans and started reading the back label.

Mara garumphed. "Do you know how long your canvas has been waiting? John, you're painting a nude not the side of the house." She smiled at the concern on my face. "Don't worry, this stuff is totally non-toxic and washes off with soapy water."

Damn, even when I was concerned I still had been horny. My cock shivered in excitement wanting to get right to work, dunking itself in blue and painting the inside of her pussy. Of course after that the cock was contemplating two or three other works. For that matter my cock didn't care about the paint at all, but this wasn't simple lust; this was artistic kink. "Mara... "

"Yes, okay? Yes, I want to be painted and after that I want to make love and then when we get in the shower to wash this off we can do it again. After that though we'll probably only have time for one last nasty shag."

I picked up two of the pencil like brushes and dipped the courser brush into the blue paint and finer one in the red.

She was surprised when I kissed her, kneading her lower lip in mine and then letting my tongue lick wetly against her top lips before dipping into her mouth and dancing with her warm and lovely tongue. God, I wanted this to go slow and sensual, but my heart was a drum beat and I could hear Mara's beating a frantically as mine. It wasn't enough to just have sex; as charged as we were we were going to pound each other into submission and even as I sucked between her breasts and bit on her nipples her hands had burrowed into my hair and she dugs her nails deep into my scalp. As I bit one nipple, I swirled the course paint brush around her other nipple, teasing it and flicking it around the areola until she gasped.

"Fuck me, John. Just fuck me."

I switched nipples and sucked her very blue nipple into my mouth, biting down hard as the paint's rasberry flavor surprised me.

"Oh God! Fuck. Bite my nipples!"

"Mara I have to fuck you!" I yelled, my mouth spraying a fine blue spray over her stomach as I dove down to her crotch and began slurping away.

"Are you going to lick me or are you going to fuck me John? Are you ....Ohhh." She broke off as I plunged my tongue inside her and swirled the fine brush along the side of her clit.

"Oh my God! Oooh, yes, do it harder," she yelled rocking her pussy into my face as I slurped my tongue along her lips and toggled her clit with the brush head.

Her thighs flexed and relaxed, crushing my ears and releasing them, making her screams come in swells of sounds.

"GOOD, yeah, JUST like ... -at's r... JUST, yes, yes, FASTER, FASTER, oh..." As she rode her pussy into my face harder and felt her body tense, I switched. The tart taste of her pussy seemed to intensify and I slurped harder at her juices.

"FUCK!" Mara screamed as my mouth sucked in her clit as I plunged the paint brush's rubber stubby deep inside her pussy. I rode out her orgasm , enjoying the cherry taste of the red paint even as her thighs seized up around my head and I battered her clit with my tongue.

As her body stilled I kept up the attack on her clit. I felt her hands seizing my hair and dimly I felt pain, but I was just where I wanted to be. My chin was soaked with her juice and getting wetter. Her thighs clenched down again and her yells were so muted they sounded like whale songs, but I kept up the attack.

Her thighs splayed open and finally I could hear again. She panted softly even as she softly rubbed her hands through my head. I licked down to her slit and spent a couple minutes softly licking her juices up, not trying to stimulate her, but just to enjoy the taste of her.

Mara pulled me up and dragged me over to the deck chairs on the cabins mini terrace.

Looking out the small bubble window at the Pacific while Mara slowly stroked my cock, I felt glassy and eternal. There was no rush about it; in spite of the coke it felt like the world was pressing down on me. There was this crazy freaked out, hyper me that was jumping around inside my head, but now the weight of almost 50 hours had compressed into a high-pitched background noise. Maybe I passed out, because a second before I had been enjoying the slow strokes of Mara's handjob. When I opened my eyes, Mara was sitting down, taking my cock back into her hands after she squirted some lotion on her chest. She smelled of the shower and I realized her areolas were no longer blue.