Paradise - Part Two (The Erotic Adventures of Sophia Durant) Read Online Free Page A
Author: O.L. Casper
again. I glance at him.
Stafford’s sitting with his hands on the place where my thighs meet my hips. Pulling himself forward. Helping himself to his newfound obsession. All the while he’s looking down at the insertion point. I can feel myself gushing all over him. It must be like a waterfall down there. He’s drowning in it. But his water viper likes to go for a swim. And he studies it and studies it. The endless fascination. What is it about a penis entering a vagina? I feel the pleasure rolling in, in waves—the beginning of a crescendo that will take hours to peak, if given the proper attention. I don’t wonder what the draw is for me. But what about for a man? How does it feel to them? This one’s quite talkative, I reason, so maybe I’ll find out. The pleasure comes in tall waves now, I’m floating, and I stop thinking of anything but that.
After an indeterminate amount of time Stafford withdraws and strokes his long shaft. As with the experience at the waterfalls, I feel nearly out-of-body as he straddles his shaft in the air above me. Suddenly I am pelted with hot splashes of silvery fluid. It covers me from my vagina, all across my stomach, to my breasts. Conscious thought resumes, I see Stafford standing, looming over me, with an inquisitive look on his face. I extend one hand, which he takes and pulls me up with. I assemble my clothes as he puts his on. Out the window I see the first sign of encroaching dawn, a violet glow rising up over the horizon. Several hours have passed during our session, though it seems like minutes. I marvel at the thought of fucking for over four hours straight, which is what has to have happened, however unbelievable it seems to me now.
Dressed, I instinctively head for the door, feeling his burning eyes on me as I leave. I look back once at the door as I am about to exit. He does not smile or look stern. A calm, even expression graces his features as he watches me go. Out of the room with the dawn light pouring in behind me, I wonder how he could have held it in that long.
Chapter 6
Sophia Durant’s Diary (continued)
August 1, Eleuthera Island, Bahamas
I didn’t get around to looking at all the collected data till about a week after the upstairs meeting with Stafford. I hadn’t seen him, and, though I tried hard to put him out of my mind—at least during work—my mind kept coming back to the curiosity about his secretive business affairs. Via the spyware I had put on Stafford’s phone, as soon as he linked his phone to his computer, I was able to have a look at all the contents therein. Every keystroke he entered, every website he trolled, every email he sent, and everything else he did online or on his hard disk was copied to my MacBook via the Minerva program. It was untraceable because the route it took was disguising itself as part of the Norton Anti-virus software and, as it “updated” itself when he shut down, it secretly transmitted all the desired information to Minerva. The wonders of modern technology.
Returning to my room after a long day tending to an unquiet baby, I put in my earbuds, sat against the headboard of my bed and booted up the MacBook Pro. While I anxiously awaited digging into my lover/employer’s files, I turned on the TV and found something to watch in the film library. As I found myself in somewhat of an insular mood and it was raining quite heavily outside, I put on The Maltese Falcon with Humphrey Bogart. Watching the images of the streets of Los Angeles pretending to be the streets San Francisco, I felt a sense of the isolation of being on such a desolate island. The feeling had always been there on the periphery, but I had not really given it much thought till now. I loved the way Humphrey Bogart had all the smart answers on rapid-fire. Sam Spade’s adventurous search for the missing Maltese bird and the shadow of his dead partner made me wonder if there wasn’t a parallel to my life on the
Stafford’s sitting with his hands on the place where my thighs meet my hips. Pulling himself forward. Helping himself to his newfound obsession. All the while he’s looking down at the insertion point. I can feel myself gushing all over him. It must be like a waterfall down there. He’s drowning in it. But his water viper likes to go for a swim. And he studies it and studies it. The endless fascination. What is it about a penis entering a vagina? I feel the pleasure rolling in, in waves—the beginning of a crescendo that will take hours to peak, if given the proper attention. I don’t wonder what the draw is for me. But what about for a man? How does it feel to them? This one’s quite talkative, I reason, so maybe I’ll find out. The pleasure comes in tall waves now, I’m floating, and I stop thinking of anything but that.
After an indeterminate amount of time Stafford withdraws and strokes his long shaft. As with the experience at the waterfalls, I feel nearly out-of-body as he straddles his shaft in the air above me. Suddenly I am pelted with hot splashes of silvery fluid. It covers me from my vagina, all across my stomach, to my breasts. Conscious thought resumes, I see Stafford standing, looming over me, with an inquisitive look on his face. I extend one hand, which he takes and pulls me up with. I assemble my clothes as he puts his on. Out the window I see the first sign of encroaching dawn, a violet glow rising up over the horizon. Several hours have passed during our session, though it seems like minutes. I marvel at the thought of fucking for over four hours straight, which is what has to have happened, however unbelievable it seems to me now.
Dressed, I instinctively head for the door, feeling his burning eyes on me as I leave. I look back once at the door as I am about to exit. He does not smile or look stern. A calm, even expression graces his features as he watches me go. Out of the room with the dawn light pouring in behind me, I wonder how he could have held it in that long.
Chapter 6
Sophia Durant’s Diary (continued)
August 1, Eleuthera Island, Bahamas
I didn’t get around to looking at all the collected data till about a week after the upstairs meeting with Stafford. I hadn’t seen him, and, though I tried hard to put him out of my mind—at least during work—my mind kept coming back to the curiosity about his secretive business affairs. Via the spyware I had put on Stafford’s phone, as soon as he linked his phone to his computer, I was able to have a look at all the contents therein. Every keystroke he entered, every website he trolled, every email he sent, and everything else he did online or on his hard disk was copied to my MacBook via the Minerva program. It was untraceable because the route it took was disguising itself as part of the Norton Anti-virus software and, as it “updated” itself when he shut down, it secretly transmitted all the desired information to Minerva. The wonders of modern technology.
Returning to my room after a long day tending to an unquiet baby, I put in my earbuds, sat against the headboard of my bed and booted up the MacBook Pro. While I anxiously awaited digging into my lover/employer’s files, I turned on the TV and found something to watch in the film library. As I found myself in somewhat of an insular mood and it was raining quite heavily outside, I put on The Maltese Falcon with Humphrey Bogart. Watching the images of the streets of Los Angeles pretending to be the streets San Francisco, I felt a sense of the isolation of being on such a desolate island. The feeling had always been there on the periphery, but I had not really given it much thought till now. I loved the way Humphrey Bogart had all the smart answers on rapid-fire. Sam Spade’s adventurous search for the missing Maltese bird and the shadow of his dead partner made me wonder if there wasn’t a parallel to my life on the
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