Guilty Pleasures

Guilty Pleasures
By: Luciana Malfoy

Chapter Three
“Surprising Reunion”


For the day after a storm, it was surprisingly warm in London’s east end. Normally, Sara would have enjoyed such a treat but her mind was otherwise occupied at the moment as she strolled down the damp street, searching endlessly for a craving soul with which to expel images of Sheridan from her mind. She couldn’t discern the exact reason why she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head, but she assumed it was due to the fact that he had treated her unlike any of her other customers had, with unexpected selflessness. Not every man was so insistent that she enjoy the activities she took money to perform and his accomplishment at making her feel so alive and desired made him more appealing to her. She hardly thought of the fact that he had paid her, for perhaps if she had then she wouldn’t be so reluctant to forget him. That gesture made him as simple as every other customer but she refused to acknowledge it, for reasons that she did not want to currently face. A small voice in the back of her mind kept urging her to simply move on and never think back on her night with Sheridan, except for on those lonely days that were sure to come somewhere down the road when she loses her looks and men no longer want to accompany her back to her apartment, but she didn’t want to listen to that voice. Not yet, at least. There was something about holding on to fond memories that make it so difficult to see the bigger picture. The memories are just small snapshots in a giant photo album, and when you keep looking at one small picture in that book, all the other photos fade out and you fail to see the whole story that the album tells.
The picture she kept going back to was the one of her and Sheridan together the night before. The album was their lives apart from that night.
Sara didn’t want to admit that she had only a page to fill in Sheridan’s album. The rest of it consisted of his life in his manor, with his wife and servants, and there was no room for her. The voice inside of her knew it, but it was so small and meek that it could seldom be heard when it should be. She knew that she would have to forget him, eventually, but for now as she walked along the stone pathway, she was content with letting his image flood her mind. So content, in fact, that she must have walked around the corner a tad too quickly because she was knocked back to reality when she collided with something solid, sending her backwards a bit as she regained her bearings. Upon looking up, she was surprised to find Tarell Sheridan standing in front of her a few feet away. Unlike the night before, he was without his gloves and cape, but dressed elegantly otherwise. Of course, that was no surprise, he seemed to have exquisite taste in clothing and was not about to hide that fine attribute behind dowdy fashions. His suit matched the color of his hair in its sable hue and complimented his cloudy blue eyes magnificently. They almost seemed to glow against his pale skin and dark clothing, absolutely riveting they were to behold.
Upon noticing it was her that he had nearly knocked down, a look of recognition fell upon his face and he glanced around quickly to see if anyone was paying rapt enough attention to see this dawning look. Thankful that no one was eyeing them, he looked back to Sara with a distant gleam in his eye that only she could catch in their close proximity. A split second ago she had the unnerving thought that he was trying to avoid her or worse still, trying to forget her. But this small twinkle in the corners of his irises reassured her that he wouldn’t forget about her even if he tried. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t forget. Whatever it was, Sara was grateful she was not the only one who retained some bit of longing after the night before. But this realization did not stop the quick sting in her heart when Sheridan had checked to see if anyone but them had noticed the remembrance that flashed on his pale features. It was obvious he wished to hide their connection from the outside world. Normally, this would not have caused Sara any grief for she knew members of the high society did not boast about their excursions into the “underground” of London to satisfy their lustful desires with a meaningless rendezvous with one of the countless working women of the streets. She had always accepted the behavior of the upper class, the way they would turn their noses up at her or any one of the other girls while in the company of their blue blooded peers, but would secretly engage in sinful activities with them in a private room or dark alleyway. Yes, these aristocratic men would put their highly regarded reputations at risk for a night of forbidden pleasures, pleasures that they were unable to experience with their prissy wives or potential life partners. In Sara’s company they would frequently let themselves go, to fulfill every depraved thought that crept into their minds. And through experience, Sara had found out that these seemingly well mannered men of high birth were possessed of even more unclean thoughts than the filthy pimps that slithered through the area during the night, looking for girls to add to their string of sexual puppets.
Perhaps that is what she saw in Sheridan that made him so special in her mind. His requests were not overly distasteful or morbid, but were mainly filled with the desire to please her. That was something she had not been accustomed to and after having a little taste of it with him, she found it was not something one could easily let go of. She was normally the seducer in her line of work, always being paid to provide the pleasure, but the night before it was herself that was so easily tempted and seduced by Sheridan’s sensitive touch. She half-wished all of the men she brought to her bed were as pleasing as him, but then realized that she probably would not be able to handle the heartache of losing each of them after the deed was done. So maybe it was better that Sheridan held the highest place in her heart instead of fifty men.
“Are you alright?” she heard him ask through her daze.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, sounding overly polite. “It’s quite a surprise to see you again, Tarell. I didn’t think you would return so soon.”
The teasing tone of her voice informed Tarell that she was simply joking with him and although his mood had been rather sour before, he was glad to at least have a fleeting moment of amusement in his otherwise stressful day. So, he permitted a smile to cross his lips.
“Yes, well, you were quite entertaining. I guess I just couldn’t stay away,” he returned as he actually entertained the thought that he might be telling the truth. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing in that part of town as he had just wanted to escape from the confines of his house and his marriage, if one wanted to call it that. He hadn’t really thought about where he was going or why. He had simply instructed his driver to wait for him near the old blacksmith’s shop and then had begun wandering about the streets, viewing the passing pedestrians with blatant curiosity, wondering if their lives were as drab as his own. Of course, he only had himself to blame for his boredom. He and he alone, had allowed his life to turn out the way it did. But he knew that if he searched, he could find a way to alleviate that boredom and perhaps, in his confused mind, become a happier man because of it. It was with that thought that Tarell made up his mind to question Sara about her destination.
“So tell me, where are you off to?” he asked.
At the sound of the question, Sara’s mind went completely blank. As much as she would love to tell him the truth, she didn’t think it would be too smart. She couldn’t bring herself to say that she was on the hunt for a man to help her erase the thoughts of their lovemaking before they consumed her completely. No, she couldn’t say that. She couldn’t look in those beautiful eyes and admit that she was enamored by him, after only spending a few hours together. That just seemed a little too pathetic to her and she wanted him to think of her as a strong woman, capable of overcoming a simple crush and standing on her own two feet, even if she did perform sexual favors for money which some would consider pathetic. She had previously wondered if she had lost all of her dignity due to her occupation but apparently not.
“Umm, just down to the bakery to buy some bread,” she quickly managed to make up. “I’m frightfully low.”
“Oh,” Tarell answered, sounding disappointed for some reason. His eyes were then pulled downward a bit and his left eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Dressed like that?”
Sara glanced down at her dress with a bit of surprise, noticing that the low-cut neckline was giving him a full view of her eye-popping cleavage. She would have blushed had she been demure, but years of committing lurid acts had crushed that trait in her years before. Instead, she adopted her usual demeanor and took full advantage of her position. She was always taught that you could attract more bees with honey than you could with vinegar anyway.
“I always dress like this, Tarell,” she said, lowering her voice an octave until it possessed just the right amount of seductive quality. “You didn’t seem to mind so much last night.”
His eyes darted back up to meet hers instantly and she could see they were full of guilt.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He began to shake his head, “No, nothing.”
Tarell turned his head to avoid her eyes and stared out at the town instead, contemplating what to say.
“I was just…going to offer you a ride home,” he said at last, wondering if she would take the bait.
Why did he have to make that offer? Sara wondered, wishing she could turn him down. She knew perfectly well what Sheridan had in mind for the “ride home”, as she was not that naïve and could detect from his body language and tone of voice that he was nursing the idea of a repeat of last night’s activities. If she was a smart woman she would have given him a reply in the negative and then went on her way to succeed in what she had set out to do in the first place. But nearly all of her choices in life contradicted any intelligent quality she may have possessed and she succumbed to the fact that she wasn’t about to change her behavior now. For what reward would that give her? The reward of knowing she made the right choice? Such a reward was nearly unfathomable in her mind. In her business there was no right choice except that which would put food in her mouth or pay her rent. Morality had always been a luxury she couldn’t afford, even though she thought about it from time to time.
“Well, that’s very kind of you, Tarell. Since you are so chivalrous it makes me wonder how I could ever say no to such an offer,” Sara replied, glancing at him with eyes the color of maple syrup.
Tarell’s lips curved in a slight smile as he turned quickly so that he was standing beside her and he extended an elbow for her to take.
“You can’t,” he assured her, and he was right, she couldn’t.
Sara realized there was no way to turn her back on the man, not one such as him, as she took his arm to be escorted to the carriage.
“I am a bit confused though, Tarell,” Sara said as they walked.
“Oh? And why is that?” he asked, stepping off the curb to cross the street.
“I’m wondering why you are making such a public display at the moment that you are escorting a lady…like me, when you have a wife at home and a high position in society,” Sara answered, holding the front of her dress with one hand to keep it from getting damp on the wet streets.
“I would prefer to not talk about my marriage or my wife while in your company, if it’s all the same to you,” Tarell answered, not looking at her.
So, he’s still having marital problems, she thought as she glided along next to him. That certainly explains why he’s so anxious to get down to business. Or did it? As before, Sara was curious about Sheridan’s life away from her, just as she was curious about everyone who paid her a visit. Most of them eventually gave in a bit and let her in on some secrets they held. Secrets they would not allow anyone else to know. She was a lady of pleasure, after all, and they knew that everything that occurred between them was strictly confidential. This normally made the men she knew as customers talk more freely about their personal lives after she had spent more than one night with them. That was one of the few advantages to her job, sometimes the men trusted her more than they did their own wives, which in turn gave her a sense of worth that she was sorely missing most of the time. However, Tarell Sheridan seemed to be a man made of a harder stone in that respect. He wanted to keep his relationship with her separate from his other life. Sara wondered briefly if that meant Tarell actually held more respect for his wife and home than any of her other customers, perhaps more than he wanted to admit. But yet, he wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that he and she were acquainted at the moment either. That fact confused her more than any other.
“So why the sudden change, Tarell?” she asked, glancing at him unsurely. “I thought by your previous actions that you’d want to keep our meetings private.”
“No one knows of me around these parts, Sara,” he answered, waiting for her to step up on the curb. “I should think we are being as private as the circumstances allow, as private as if we were inside your bed.”
Sara made an agreeable sound at the back of her throat but was not paying much attention to the rest of his words, if he said any. Her mind was busy berating her for once again doing something that she was bound to regret later. While she didn’t suffer with the guilt as Tarell did, she did however know that the strong desire she felt for him was not goio sto stop burning after another session of lovemaking, and because of this she suffered. She knew one more night with him was not going to quench her thirst for his touch nor would it make him any easier to forget in the morning. No, she had the unmistakable feeling that it was going to heighten her need for the pleasure that he could bring her and at the moment she wasn’t sure how she felt about that fact. She was so consumed by her thoughts on the subject tshe she hadn’t realized that they had stopped walking or that Tarell was talking to her. He obviously wanted an answer from her as he stood there, rather regally for his surroundings, because he shook her arm gently and she heard his voice through the haze she was in.
“Sara?” he asked, trying to get her attention.
At last he succeeded and she blinked to clear her thoughts of the cobwebs that shs tas tangled in.
“Are you not buying bread?” Tarell asked.
Just then she noticed they had come to a stop in front of the bakery as the sweet smell of croissants, muffins and rolls wafted out of its windows to awaken her senses. She realized though that she had not a cent on her at the moment and tried to tug Tarell away from the bread shop in hopes that she could squirm her way out of an explanation, but he wouldn’t budge.
“You said you were frightfully low. I believe those were your words. I would hate to see a woman as exquisite as you starve,” Tarell said, still frozen to his place. He gave her body a quick glance over with his appreciative eyes and pulled her back towards him until their bodies nearly collided.
“Well, I lied,” she replied.
“Nonsense,” he said as he took her hand and turned toward the entrance of the bakery.
“Tarell, do I look like I’m starving to you?” she asked sarcastically while he pulled her along, her voice a high-pitched whine.
“Do you want me to answer that?” he asked back as he opened the door and ushered her inside.
She rolled her eyes at him but smiled anyway.

Minutes later, they emerged from the bread shop with a plentiful amount of rolls and sweet buns. Although Sara had protested, Tarell had purchased the food, as a gentleman should, and suggested she could simply pay him back later. Of course this last bit was spoken with a lascivious gleam in his eye and Sara had no doubt in her mind that he was expecting something in return. However, Sara didn’t mind so much returning the favor. In fact she was already indulging her tempting memories of his nude flesh, all soft to the touch with just the right amount of hardness in all the right places. And she was counting down the minutes until she could get him out of his stuffy clothes and into the freedom of nakedness, if only to serve her with a feast to her eyes for an hour or two.
In moments they reached his carriage, a beautiful black barouche drawn by a lovely duo of ebony mares, and he allowed her to board the coach first. He then turned to his coachman and instruchim,him, in a low tone, to drive them to Sara’s place of residence and await his return. The coachman, a young man of around twenty-five years of age with a rather feminine face with the exception of his rather masculine nose, nodded at his master and understood the older man’s unspoken order to keep his activities a secret. With that, Tarell boarded his carriage beside Sara and ordered its departure.
She was looking out the curtained window at the beginning of the ride and Tarell thought it best to not disturb her reverie just yet. She seemed so serene that he didn’t want to break the spell which had obviously been cast over her so he simply shifted his body so he was leaning with his back to the side of the carriage wall and his eyes were pointed directly at her. Taking in every buxom curve of her body, he relished the sight of her profile and couldn’t help but fantasize about removing her purple gown to gaze voraciously at her delectable body, which he knew was begging to be taken in passionate hunger. Due to the plunging neckline, he was granted a very pleasing view of her firm chest, with each intake of breath her ample breasts swelled copiously, teasing him ever so slightly as they expanded briefly before settling back to their normal size. Thione one made his arousal all the more prominent, if one were to cast their eyes below his waist they could plainly see it beneath his trousers, and he realized just how sex-starved he was if that was all it took to gain his attention. That realization could not have been more unwelcome or more depressing. It never used to be that way. He used to hunger for physical pleasure much less frequently in times past, with much less interest in it. But times seemed to be changing and he was most certainly changing along with it. At least, he suspected he was. Or perhaps he was merely facing the start of a mid-life crisis. Whatever the answer to his heightened sexual appetite, he decided to embrace it openly instead of shoving it back in the corner somewhere. After all, why should he have to deny what he was? He was a human being, with every desire and emotion that a human possesses. He suddenly realized that he had been living in a void for so long that he had, in fact, forgotten what it was to be a man. A virile, dominant, seductive male, that’s what he used to be, before allowing life to pull him down from the cloud he had reigned over. Life and his marriage, those were the destroyers. Through the years he had somehow let everything morph him into a bona fide wimp, a slave to his fears and regrets. He had become a pushover, plain and simple. One who drags through life in repressed servitude. I can’t even stand up to my own wife, for Christ sakes, he thought somberly. How did I ever let it get to this point?
He sat there thinking for several moments about his life, but although he had made some progress toward the change he knew had to come eventually, he still couldn’t bring himself to begin his transformation. For that is what happens to one such as Tarell Sheridan, who had been stuck in a rut for over a decade of his life cou could not, for the life of him, bring himself to change the direction and pace of his life. Oh, he recognized the problem. That was for sure, but he had no idea how to fix it. Or maybe he just didn’t have the nerve to. Afraid it would all crumble in his out of practice hands from the neglect over the years. But like all people in his position, it was going to take a hard lesson to jolt him out of his paralysis. Tarell just made the mistake of thinking that lesson was a long way off. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the short chapter. I’ll be back on track with a longer chapter four shortly but I have to get to bed now. Have fun folks.