Page 13 of João
I had zero desire to play the newbie. There was nothing worse to me than starting new somewhere; change was overrated. If I would have to go through change, then let it be transformative.
With that thought in mind, I turned on my latest audiobook—the one that was really kinky, the one I only listened to in the privacy of my home because not even in the car could I hide such smut—and got to cleaning. Soon, my floors were vacuumed andsmelling fresh. The aroma of Fabuloso permeated the space, and there wasn’t one single particle of dust in the room.
And I was aroused, painfully so, as the narrator in the book told his submissive to wait for him by the bedroom door as he inspected her work on the house. He walked from room to room, telling her in a deep voice that traveled all the way between my legs how good she did. Closing the door to my little cleaning supply closet, I ambled to my room as the speakers recounted the scene after the submissive completed her duties.
How would João sound calling me ‘a good girl’? It was an invasive thought I’d attempted to push down since our date on Friday. How would his hand feel underneath my chin as he pushed up my face and demanded eye contact? How would my body react to his clipped commands to strip and receive my prize?
Slight perspiration gathered on my brow as I bounced my tired behind on my freshly made bed. Laying down, I closed my eyes, and a vivid image appeared of João’s hands on me as he gave me a gentle massage, praising all my good work, the work I did for him and me, the work I did to make him happy.
Making him happy… My pussy throbbed as my hands played poor substitutes to João’s large ones, traveling from my smooth thighs to my trembling belly underneath my T-shirt to find my bra. The main character became João and his submissive became me.
“Such a good pet, my love. Did you want a little stimulation? Is this why your nipples are so hard?”João/the main character asked. Two hard slaps reverberated in the quiet room as pleasure and pain made my breasts tingle. João slapped my breasts, making them bounce with the force of his palm. The hit was hard enough to make my panties melt but not cause any lasting pain.
“Open up for me? That’s a good girl…”João/the main character rasped in his submissive’s ear as he leaned all his delicious weight over her. There was nothing here but air, but the heat of my body was sufficient to mimic what I’d expect from João.
With a trembling hand, I breached my shorts and found my swollen wet clit begging for stimulation. The main character took his time, but I didn’t have the time or strength to pace myself. Everything was tight, my skin, my chest, my pussy…everything clenched and released as I imagined João here with me, his power and his aura taking over the entire room. My whole attention was on him as he stroked me with delicate but certain movements, an expert in how to touch my body. Behind the lids of my eyes, his face materialized: thick beard, plump lips, impenetrable gaze as he coaxed the orgasm out of me, praise mixing with commands that unraveled me with want. My thighs clamped tight around my hand as the orgasm hit, hard and hot like a tide that wouldn’t let up. I curled onto my side, grinding against my slick fingers, hips rocking on instinct, my pussy pulsing with each wave that ripped through me.
My heart beat so hard my audible breath muffled the narrator’s voice. Just as fast as my arousal took over, the wave pulled away, my body suddenly cool to the air of the ceiling fan. I stayed in the fetal position as the expected aftermath of my fantasies brought shame.
The audiobook, a welcome stimulation a few minutes ago, now felt too loud, and with a swift command to my home system, I ordered it to stop. My stomach curdled at the wanton desperation that always took over me when I allowed my true desires to run free. It just…none of them were conducive to the life I wanted. Everything I’d learned told me that excess brought wickedness and idleness of thought. My father was the perfectexample of what happened when you lived more in the gray areas than on the path of righteousness.
But why did it feel so good? Every time I listened to my audiobooks, every time I indulged in my fantasies, I felt so alive. As alive as when I was in the choir singing my joy to Jesus Christ. How could my fantasies be so wrong if they brought me similar joy? Joy, yes…but the shame after? I never walked out of church feeling ashamed. Well, that wasn’t even true anymore, was it?
For weeks, I didn’t feel content as I did my duties in the vestry and attended service. And after seeing how the congregation had moved regarding my dissolved engagement and the subsequent developments, well… That shame felt different but still present.
Not willing to wallow in self-pity, I washed up, removing the scent of my arousal from my hands and the feel of João’s ghost from my skin. It was time to be productive. I couldn’t eradicate the shame of my indulgence, but I could help with the shame I’d felt these past weeks after church.
“Open up.I know you’re there,” I said outside the redwood door of the majestic house I hadn’t visited in weeks.
A warm welcome wasn’t guaranteed, but the bag of food I carried with collard greens, mac and cheese, and baked chicken was an integral persuasive element to the visit.
After pressing the bell several times without stopping, the door swung open to reveal stylish eyebrows raised in annoyance, flawless brown skin, and moisturized pursed lips surrounded bya goatee. A lean frame was covered by a white long-sleeved tee and white flowing pants. Oh, how I had missed him.
“Hi, babe,” I said tentatively.
“Don’t you ‘hi, babe’ me. I’m the one mad at you, not you at me, so the fact you haven’t called me or come by in weeks is unacceptable.” Vincent sniffed and his eyes zeroed in on the bag I carried. “Is that what I think it is?”
“If you think it is your favorite Sunday lunch, then yes.” I smiled, my heart in my throat. Vincent and I went way back since my memorable days in Sunday school. We’d both taken very different approaches after similar upbringings but were united by a bond that, for the longest time, I considered unbreakable.
“You hussy, you know now I gotta let you in if only to eat.” Vincent sashayed to his parlor and left me to close and lock the door.
The house looked just the same, a mix of both Vincent’s colorful taste and his late husband’s elegant sensibilities. Every time I stepped into his home, my heart mourned his wonderful husband, Albert.
Albert had been the best to Vincent when his family shunned him after coming out, then pretended to accept him to seem like “good Christians.” Those not close to Vincent thought that Albert was a sugar daddy, older by thirty years when they married, but people didn’t see the love I’d seen for five years of wedded bliss. After Albert’s passing from cancer, Vincent inherited everything: the house, the private equity company, and the fortune—all of it.
And then the wild years began.
“I’ve missed you,” I say simply. I was wrong; I knew it now, with an intimacy I wouldn’t wish on anyone. “And I was wrong…I was wrong to ask you to stay in the church when you weren’thappy there anymore. They made your life miserable, and I should have supported your choice.”
Vincent stopped on his way to the kitchen, frozen for a minute. This had been such a point of contention between us that I regretted it. I’d felt so sure in my conviction, and now…I had nothing to show for it.
“Did they make your life a living hell too? Did you leave the church?” Vincent asked tentatively, still not facing me.
“Yes.”
Vincent’s arms circled around me, giving comfort when I deserved none. I melted into him, the tears never far from my eyes these days. I’d missed my best friend. I’d thought I’d been in the right, and now so many things seemed silly in hindsight.
“I’m sorry too. I know how important the church and the community were for you. Did they— Were they assholes when Joshua announced his engagement?” he asked as he pulled back. Holding my hand, he guided me to the kitchen where together, we unpacked the meal. Not fully ready to tell him everything, I changed direction, checking on his well-being instead.
