A Cure for the Afflicted - Sex Stories

A Cure for the Afflicted

... herself pleasure. "How does that feel?" he asked quietly.

Beatrice stared up at him, her eyes widening. When she tried to speak, only a guttural moan emerged from her throat. The sound made Matteo achingly hard, and in the warmth of the room, he began to sweat profusely. With her hand in his, he quickened the pace of their fingers until they could easily hear how wet Beatrice was. Matteo's mouth watered, longing for a single taste.

Beatrice began rocking her hips again. The rhythm of her breathing matched Matteo's until they were both panting. "How does that feel, Beatrice?" he repeated.

"Wonderful!" she confessed.

"Are you growing uncomfortable at all? Do you feel you're receiving too much stimulation?"

Beatrice quickly shook her head. "I don't want to stop."

"The sensation will grow more intense, but you mustn't resist it."

Beatrice uttered soft cries while working her sex against their fingers. She began to shake as though chilled, but her stare was filled with heat. Matteo had seen that same fierce desire on the face of his last lover, a widowed woman who rode him until he pleaded for mercy.

"I fear something's wrong!" Beatrice said. Her hips slowed as she whimpered. "I feel as if every part of my body is being pulled tight."

"You're close!" Matteo breathed. When Beatrice remained still, he gripped her fingers and used them to provide the stimulation she needed. "Surrender to it, Beatrice!"

She appeared overwhelmed, as if she might burst ...

... into tears at any moment. Her shuddering grew even more violent, yet Matteo refused to stop. The young woman pressed her lips together, muffling a wail. Finally, she could no longer withstand the fervent rubbing of her fingers. Her back arched, and she planted her feet against the bed while she spasmed and groaned. Her greedy hips still pumped away as she held them aloft. Matteo stared, entranced at the sight. He had never witnessed such a powerful release.

Only when Beatrice collapsed onto the bed and began mewling pitifully did he let go of her hand. Reluctantly, he withdrew his own fingers from her. She lay helplessly before him, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. While she returned to her senses, he lowered her shift and then pulled up the sheet to cover her.

Matteo waited until Beatrice was calm, then leaned forward to stroke her hair. "When you feel that certain... tension building within you," he said, "or if you have the urge to touch yourself in the way I just showed you, I want you to come to this room where you'll have privacy, and I want you to relieve that urge. Doing so will help you cope with the burdens that afflict you in your daily life."

Her voice was strained with worry as she spoke. "My mother told me it's a sin to do that. She said the Lord would punish me by taking my sight and causing hair to grow on my palms. Then everyone would know of my wickedness, and no man would marry me."

Beatrice appeared so earnest that Matteo had to ...