The fire crackles in my tiny kitchen at Mont de Vannes. Winter bites outside, snow burying the chapel and fields. Daniel stands before me, back twisted from the cellar. His plea hangs heavy: ‘Massage it, Louise.’ Heart thuds. I hesitate. His shirt lifts. Skin pale, marked by years. Fingers dip into arnica balm, slick and warm. I rub his shoulder blade. Muscles tense under my palms. Heat rises from the stove, mirroring the flush creeping up my neck. He sighs deep. ‘Lower.’ Pants unbutton. No underwear. His ass exposed. I knead lower, cream melting into flesh. Pulse races. His breath quickens. Something stirs below. I feel it before I see it. Thickening. Hardening. Not like Dominique’s limp rag. This pulses alive. Hand guided down. Skin fever-hot. Veins throb under my fingers. Heart hammers in my chest, echoing his. ‘Kneel,’ he whispers. Cushion at his feet. I drop. Eyes level with the beast. Swollen head gleams in firelight. A drop of precum beads. Urgency builds. My mouth waters unbidden. Lips part. The devil whispers: taste forbidden love.
His hand on my head. Gentle push. Lips brush velvet skin. Salty tang explodes on tongue. I engulf him. Heat sears my throat. He groans, hips buck. Pulse in my mouth matches my own frantic beat. Tongue swirls the ridge. He swells impossibly thicker. Gagging reflex fights, but lust wins. Suck harder. Saliva drips down chin. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling. Rhythm savage now. Thrusts deep, claiming my throat. Sweat beads on his belly. Mine slicks my robes. Breasts ache, nipples hard peaks. Core clenches empty, aching for invasion. He grunts animalistic. ‘Anne… yes…’ Past echoes in his frenzy. I am her vessel. Tongue lashes frenulum. Balls tighten against my chin. Heart pounds wild. Explosion imminent. He locks my head. Roars. Hot jets flood my mouth. Thick, bitter nectar. I swallow convulsively. Gulping sin. Body shudders in aftershocks. He softens on my tongue, spent but twitching.
The Fever
Flames dance shadows on walls. He pulls out, glistening strand connects us. Knees ache on wood floor. Skin still burns where we touched. Heart slows to heavy thuds. Cum lingers on breath, warm in belly. He zips up, but eyes smolder. ‘Confess now.’ Hands on my head. Absolution under fireglow. Guilt flickers, drowned by afterglow. Body hums, alive in ways prayer never touched. Lips swollen, tasting him. A secret brands my soul. Aristide waits in shadows, his turn looming. Winter nights endless. Flesh awakened. God’s command twists: multiply, fill the earth. This raw union—dangerous, devouring. I crave more. The blaze smolders to embers, ready to reignite. Prayer beads twist in fingers. Sin’s warmth chases winter chill. I am changed. Marked. His forever servant in red confession.