Chapter 4
Between Saint & Sinner
Samuel Foster
We’re at a park a block away from the hotel that hosted my show. It’s been an hour since we left the venue, and the crowd of homeless folk has only just started to dissipate. Although, to be fair, it took them a while to believe that the food parcels we were handing out had no strings attached.
Lobster, chateaubriand, platters of exotic fruit...food that most of them had never even heard of, let alone had a chance to try. But culinary exploration isn’t a priority for most of these people – half of them looked like their last meal had come out of a dumpster. Which is where this food would have ended up if I hadn’t convinced Emmanuel to pack it for me to bring here. The senseless waste makes me sick to my stomach.
“Excuse me, sir?” a hesitant voice breaks into my thoughts. I look down into the face of a pale woman staring up at me earnestly. As I turn, she flinches, as if I might hit her for getting too close. She holds her ground. “Me and Jimmy...we just wanted to thank you for your kindness, sir,” she continues, then looks down at the boy beside her. “Say thank you to the man, Jim,” she says sternly.
“Thank you, sir,” the kid says around a mouthful of bread. His eyes are huge and dark in a painfully gaunt face. Probably around ten, but looks about the size of an eight-year-old. Malnutrition; I recognize the signs. I wonder how he’s slipped through the system, then it occurs to me that she’s kept him out of it. Hiding out on the streets. Whatever drove them there must have been bad, because they’re clearly living hard. They’re hanging onto each other like shipwreck victims cling to a lifebuoy. United against the world. I think back to my own childhood; maybe her way is better. At least he’ll grow up knowing he’s loved by her. I reach into the inside pocket of my trench coat and fight back a grimace as she shrinks back. I’m going for my billfold, slowing my movements to ease her concern.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” I ask. I can see she’s not used to being treated with respect.
“Jen- uh...Jane,” she replies. She’s lying but I don’t care. I press a roll of hundreds into her palm, along with my business card.
“Find a safe place for you and Jim to stay, Jane,” I tell her. She’s gaping at me. “This should get you a couple of months. And when it’s done, you call me for more, got it?” She glances down at the kid, who’s still chewing, then back up at me.
She nods. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir...” She’s fiddling with the neckline of her gray-stained shirt and I know she’s wondering what I’m expecting in exchange. I swallow the lump in my throat, smile at the boy, and turn away. “Bless you, sir!” she calls after me. I raise a hand in acknowledgment but don’t look back. It’ll make me emotional. I pray she uses the cash wisely. I pray she calls when she needs more.
“Mr. Colt!” It’s Shannin, still perky and golden. I’m struck by the difference between her and the other woman and she suddenly annoys me. I know it’s unfair, because she pulled her weight when I asked her to help hand out the food boxes, even offering a kind word here and there.
“What?” I snap and she takes a step back. I smile to take the edge off. “What’s up?” I say more gently. Her whole posture changes and now she’s all curves and ‘come hither’ pouts.
“Are we done here, Mr. Colt?” she asks, then goes on in a rush, “Do you have any other plans...for tonight?” She licks her lips.
“Well that depends, Shannin-with-an-I,” I say stepping closer to her. “Are you free to join me?” She sucks in a breath and I can see her nipples poking against the gold fabric of her dress. Her answering nod stops short when I lean down and graze my mouth over her lush lips. When I lift my head, her cheeks are a little flushed and her eyes are glassy. I give a wolf-grin; the onePeoplemagazine dubbed ‘The panty-soaker’. I’m pretty sure her panties are gonna be soaked alright.
By the time we get back to the luxury suite Cory booked for me to prep for the gig, Shannin has no panties at all. As the elevator door pings open into the penthouse floor, she’s got her legs around my waist and is grinding her pussy against the front of my Levis. She’s pushed my coat off my shoulders, down my arms, and her mouth is moving hungrily over the skin of my throat. She’s making little mewling sounds as she humps my denim-clad crotch. I gotta admit, it’s working for me too. I hook my hands under her knees, stride into the dimly lit room and drop her onto an overstuffed couch before letting my coat fall to the floor at my booted feet. She lies back, thighs splayed and stares up at me hotly as I reach down between her legs and run a fingertip along her slick slit. She’s completely bare down there and for a moment it’s unsettling. I like my women to look like...women. But right now, my cock is pressing against my fly in a way that says Mr. Happy isn’t fussy.
She pushes herself up, reaches a hand forward and tugs at the buttons of my jeans. Hot flesh springs free and before I can say ‘presto’ she’s wrapped her lips around my knob. Blonde curls tumble as her head bobs and she deepthroats me like a pro. I don’t want to know where she learned the trick, but I’m surprised Buford let her leave with me – although who am I to complain. She has a hand between her thighs, her fingers working her clit as she goes down on me. The girl’s clearly used to taking care of herself. I’m tempted to return the favor and eat her out, but stuff like that just feels too ‘connected’. And I have no intention of getting connected with this golden girl.
I watch as she pinches herself roughly, fingers shoving into her wetness in time with the bobbing of her head. Seems to me that Shannin likes it hard...which might explain why she’s hanging with a dick like Buford. I pull out of her mouth with a wet plopping sound, then push her back down onto the couch, grabbing her hips and deftly flipping her onto her belly.
Shannin gives a little shriek and a half-hearted ‘Hey!’ I respond by delivering a sharp slap to her left ass cheek. She shrieks again, but her thighs have spread wider and I can see her pussylips pouting wetly. I raise my hand and slap the other cheek. Both golden globes are now marred by reddening handprints, and a trickle of juice is streaking down the inside of Shannin’s thigh. She drops her head to the cushions and gives a low moan when I run my hand over her hot skin.
She’s bobbing her ass at me like a cat in heat, which is my cue to reach for my back pocket and tug out a condom. This is not a girl I’d risk going bareback with, for sure. I rip the foil with my teeth, roll the condom down my shaft and run my fingers into her gaping pussy. If the chick was any hotter she’d be bubbling. I line my cock head with her opening and thrust in with one rough shove. Shannin gives a tiny cry as I hit the end of the line, and it occurs to me that I should have given her some sort of warning, but she doesn’t seem the type to care about chivalry. Anyhow, it seems I did exactly the right thing, because she’s clutching at the cushions beneath her and making babbling, “Oh god, oh god!” sounds. I can feel muscles spasming around my cock and I wonder if it’s possible for her to have gone from zero to one hundred in just one thrust. Whatever. I’m not done yet.
I pull out and thrust in again, then set up a pounding rhythm that seems to meet with her approval because she’s wailing loud enough to alert security. She raises her head, arches her back and I feel that spasming again. The sensation tugs somewhere in my balls and I feel an uncoiling that tells me I’m getting closer myself. She reaches a hand between her thighs and starts thrumming her clit. I decide to add to the mix by swatting her rump again and she squeals. As her pussy clamps yet again, I feel the dam walls break and I’m pumping hot jizz like a geyser. Thank god for the condom, or her head might have popped off. Though, by now, I have my hand twisted into those golden curls tightly enough to have her arched like a bow. As the waves ebb and die down, I untangle my fingers and she drops forward as I release her and slide out. She still makes a pretty picture; a tangle of golden limbs and bunched up sequined fabric twisted around her waist. I fleetingly wonder how she’ll get home without her panties, but I doubt she’s the type to care.
She twists onto her back and grins up at me goofily as I roll off the rubber and tie the end. She puts a fingertip to her lips, then cups her other hand over her pussy and presses her thighs together.
“Oh, Mr. Colt...that was...wow...that was amazing!” she gushes.
“Mr. Happy’s favorite vanishing act,” I quip as I turn to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When I get back she’s stripped completely and is lying back on the couch.
“And will Mr. Happy be ready for a repeat performance anytime soon?” She winks at me. I have two more rubbers in my back pocket, and for a moment I’m sorely tempted.But no.
“Not tonight, sweets,” I say, “but the room is booked till morning, so make yourself at home. It’s on me.” She pouts, but I’m not swayed. It’s getting late.
And I have someone to get home to.
