Kneeling. A woman was kneeling for me. Fuck, if there was one thing that could make my dick rock hard in a split second, that was it–among other things. I never realized how hot a woman looked on her knees, waiting for me.

The elevator doors at the end of the hall whispered open just as I led her into the room and shut the door behind me. There was an element of thrill to what she’d done, and it intrigued me. There was no shame, no worry for what anyone would think. It was as if nothing else mattered but me witnessing her submission and accepting it–like a precious gift.

And it was a gift.

After the day I’d had, Sharon was a sight to behold, and for a moment, I just wanted to look at her and marvel at how beautiful she was, even more beautiful when she knelt for me, stirring feelings inside me I’d long forgotten. No, they hadn’t been forgotten. They’d had to be set aside because Jessica had made them shameful. How dare I hold her down when I made love to her or spank her ass and, god forbid, pull her hair?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize Sharon had turned around and made her way back to me until she was standing in front of me. Her blue-grey eyes seemed to see right through me. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. She tugged on the ties of her dress and one side fell open to reveal creamy smooth skin, full breasts and pink nipples hardening before my eyes. She dipped one shoulder like a dancer and the dress slipped down her arm. She did the same to the other shoulder and as the dress began to slide off her, I caught it in my hand and tossed it to the nearest chair. Fuck, she was exquisite.

Her gaze lowered and her hand brushed against the front of my trousers, my dick rock hard even after all the blame and shame I’d managed to stir inside my mind, self-flagellation I didn’t need. She undid my trousers, pulled down the zipper and slipped my cock from the confines of my boxers.

“May I, Sir?” she asked as she knelt, her gaze holding mine.

“Yes,” I whispered, allowing the sensations to pull me out of my thoughts and bring me back into my body, back to its needs.

Sharon’s tongue felt exquisite against my dick as she lathered the underside from bottom to tip before letting the head of my cock slip between her lips. She’d brought her hands behind her back, leaving nothing but her mouth to worship me, her sinful mouth and those blue-grey eyes still looking up at me, holding me and keeping me present. Just me and my dick.

“Sharon…” After that, I could not form words.

She hummed and her mouth and her tongue vibrated around my cock. I closed my eyes and drew my head back, allowing myself to take in everything, not caring if ‘everything’ meant only my dick in her mouth. She was good, her tongue flat against the underside of my cock as she opened her mouth wide enough to take all of me. The day forgotten, the past set aside, it was just us inside that room, her talented mouth and tongue and my cock. I placed my hands on the back of her head and pushed her toward me, forcing her to take me deeper into her mouth. No resistance, no fight. She was taking me all in, making sounds that had no words. My hips thrust forward and I felt her nose hit my stomach. I looked down and still, her gaze was on me, her eyes watering and her mascara running, and yet she did not complain. She did not pull back. She simply took all of me.

I slowed down, not wanting to come just yet even though I knew I was almost there. I was a man starved of everything important to him, shamed for the things he thought would make him complete. But not here, not anymore. No one was shaming anyone. We’d come here to play, to learn, and become what we were. I pulled her off my cock and she gasped, still looking at me, her drool connecting us still.

“I’m coming,” I whispered and this time, Sharon closed her eyes as I slid my cock into her mouth in one smooth stroke, her tongue cradling me, the head of my dick hitting the back of her throat. A few more thrusts and I was there, so there. Still gripping her hair, I held her head in place as I came hard, and she took me, all of it, down her throat.

I loosened my grip on her hair as she cleaned me up with her tongue, swallowing every drop. I struggled to catch my breath as my orgasm subsided like waves receding into the endless ocean. I pulled out and she kissed the tip before licking her lips and swallowing. It was slow and deliberate and meant for my eyes only.

“Thank you, Sir,” Sharon whispered and for a few moments, I let the meaning behind her words sink in. I wanted to tell her she could call me Jonathan and that she didn’t have to call me Sir at every turn. I liked hearing my name said out loud. But Sharon was only doing what she knew best.

Then I felt it, the weight of the guilt and the shame I’d carried with me since Jessica left me lift off my shoulders. It didn’t mean I was free of them, but for tonight, they were gone.

After I tucked myself back into my pants, I helped Sharon back to her feet. Her mascara had run down her face and her lipstick had smeared, but she looked just as stunning as when I first saw her kneeling outside my door. But I wasn’t done. We’d just started.

“Get on the bed. On your back,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt as Sharon did as she was told. She had an amazing ass and her legs seemed like they went for miles in her stilettos. As she lay on her back, she propped herself up on her elbows and watched me undress.

With only the trousers left to slip off, it hit me. Ever since I declared my vows, I never imagined I’d be fucking anyone but Jessica. Daydreams were fine, but doing it, no. I’d been faithful. I was in love. I still was.

I exhaled. Of all the things I could have been thinking of while a woman was waiting for me to fuck her brains out, Jessica was the last on the list. I was still smarting. I was still hurt. I was still humiliated.

“Sir?”

“Call me Jonathan. I’m not your Sir. Not yet.” My response was abrupt, and Sharon bit her lip as if chastised. My tone softened. “What did you want to tell me?”

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” she said. Her voice was soft, kind, no judgment forthcoming. It was as if she knew what—or who—had just crossed my mind.

“Lie down,” I said and Sharon eased the pressure off her elbows and straightened her arms on the bed. I lifted her ankle and kissed the inside of her calf. I felt her stiffen as my mouth moved down to the skin just above her ankle bone and I noticed a line that looked like it had been rubbed raw sometime in the past but had since healed. Still, it was recent.

She relaxed when I shifted my attention away from the scar and slipped the stiletto off her foot. She looked amazing wearing them but she didn’t need them in bed. I dropped the stiletto to the floor and did the same with the other one, leaving her with only her underwear. Black lace. But even that had to go.

I crawled between her legs and gripped the waistband of her panties. Sharon lifted her hips, helping me slide them off. One leg up and then the other before I tossed the panties to the chair next to the bed. I wanted her bare, vulnerable. I’d been vulnerable enough.

She was wet, her pussy lips glistening in the soft light of the hotel room. “Tell me what you like, Sharon,” I said as I spread her legs with my hands and positioned my head between them. I could smell her desire and it was intoxicating. I kissed her mound first. “Tell me.”

“Whatever you like.”

I kissed lower, down the slit of her pussy. “That’s definitely not the answer I want to hear. I know what I like. Now I need to know what you like. You. Not me or anyone else. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

She was quiet for a few moments, her gaze on the ceiling as I kissed the inside of her thighs. “I like it rough…but not too rough. It scares me but I guess as long as it’s done in a scene, it’s okay,” she said softly. “I like to be held down when I’m getting…” she paused, then chuckled. Was she suddenly embarrassed? Now?

“Fucked?” I asked. I licked and sucked her sensitive clit, feeling her body tighten. “Tell me more, Sharon, or I’m going to stop what I’m doing.”

“Yes, fucked. I like to be told what to do, what to wear, and what position you want me in so I’m ready when you walk in the door,” she continued, pausing between breaths as my mouth worked on her clit, slipping two fingers inside her. “I like to feel like I belong to someone.”

“Do you like this?” I hooked my fingers inside her, my other hand keeping her hips down on the bed as she squirmed, moaning.

“Yes, oh yes.”

“Don’t come until I tell you to. Ask for permission,” I said, my thumb pressing on her clit. “Tell me more. You’re not done yet. How rough do you like it?”

“I like it when…” she paused again, catching her breath and whimpering as I kept going with my mouth on her pussy. She tasted of vanilla and oranges. “…when I’m tied down, held down…when you bite me, spank me, punish me. Pull my hair, oh, Jonathan. Please, can I come?”

“No. Tell me more or I’ll stop,” I said, feeling her quiver in front of me.

As Sharon continued telling me what she liked, pausing to catch her breath between words, I withdrew my fingers from her cunt, my mouth trailing a path of kisses up her stomach, her belly button, and the space between her breasts as I slid up along her torso. On the edge of another orgasm, she looked exquisite in her denial.

She didn’t have to say the words out loud but hearing her made my own needs seem normal. It made my desire to fuck a woman hard, spank her ass, and tell her when to come not something I needed to be ashamed of. I was just a normal guy—until I wasn’t.

I raised her arms above her head. Holding her wrists in place, I slipped a hard nipple between my teeth and nibbled. Sharon cried out, her body quivering. I let her wrists go, gliding my hands down her arms and sides, and off her hips. “Keep them there,” I said as I got out of my pants and kneeling between her legs, I slipped on a condom. No other thought came to me then, just the needs I’d long suppressed for the sake of normalcy, pretending to be what I wasn’t behind closed doors.

But no more. This was who I am.

Sharon looked at me through half-lidded eyes, as if lost in a haze of lust and desire. Submission in its most raw and most beautiful form even though I knew I had much to learn.

“Tell me what you want, Sharon.”

“I want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Say my name.”

“Jonathan…”

“Beg for it,” I said as I slid my cock along her slick opening, coating it with her juices. I pressed her swollen clit with my thumb.

“Jonathan, please fuck me. Please.”

I slid inside her in one smooth stroke, stopping halfway so she could adjust to me. She was so wet and so ready for me. I felt her walls squeeze me, pulsing. Rocking back on my heels, I pulled her hips toward me, planting myself deeper inside her as she arched her back. She moaned as I pushed her knees down toward the bed, opening her up to me completely. She looked beautiful, her hair splayed out on the pillow and her arms held above her head just as I ordered her. I was going to tie her hands next time.

“Look at me,” I ordered as I began to move, fucking her hard and rough. Time stood still. The only thing that mattered was me inside her. Blue-grey eyes gazed up at me, her perfect lips in an O as she fought back her orgasm.

She begged to come.

I said no.

She begged again just as I felt my release closing in, but I held back. Not yet. I wanted to watch her shatter first. For me. Because of me.

She whimpered and moaned, her nipples hard pink pebbles against soft skin.

“Come, Sharon. Come for me.” I felt her cunt tighten around my cock, milking me as she came. Her cries filled the room, complementing the drum of raindrops outside the glass windows. I let go of her legs and covered her with my body, my hands capturing. Two more strokes and I was there, like a wave crashing against the shore, building up forever. I bit the skin between her neck and shoulder, that delicate slope I’d noticed the first time I met her and then throughout yesterday’s dinner. She smelled of jasmine and neroli. She gasped as I sucked on her skin, not caring if I marked her, bruised her, claimed her, her ragged breath warm against my ear.

She said my name. She said thank you. She was mine to do as I wanted.

And through it all, I felt no guilt, no shame, no judgment.

No more excuses.