The flight to the Hamptons wasn't long. The entire way Sarah just stared quietly out of the window side. I wondered if she was up for this. We sat in first class, I ordered wine. Finally, she spoke up.
"So what's my back story?" she asked.
"Dartley, School of Medical Sciences class of 2018. Your family is from New Hampshire, but the southside. So you're sophisticated but not stuffy. Just the kind of woman my father likes."
"Medicine?" I barely passed pre-algebra in middle school," Sarah said looking back out the window.
"I thought you guys were good at math..." I said facetiously.
"So, you're a racist..."
"I thought I was paying you a compliment."
Sarah punched me in the shoulder, and a smile curved into her cheek.
"She laughs?" I asked with hyper astonishment. As the time passed by, slowly the space between Sarah and I began to close. Not long now, I thought.
***
Our home in the Hamptons was nestled in the dark green hills near a private beach. It was dusk, and Tiki lamps lit the path to my door way. Sarah was dressed in a red dress and with thin string ties in the back and the pearl necklace I'd given her. She led the way up the lit steps. I placed my hand on her back.
"I'm worried," she said, pushing up her glasses.
"Well, let me just put it this way," I replied."My family are the most despicable people to gather in a group and procreate..."
Sarah didn't respond.
"Exactly," I said.
The door swung open and Svetlana appeared.
"Ryan, Lyubov. My baby boy, Come in! Come in!" she said in a sultry Russian accent and she pulled us inside. Svetlana kissed me on the cheek and left a red smudge.
"Sorry, baby." she said wiping away the smear. "You'll be staying the whole four days, right?" she asked.
"We'll be here," I said forcing a smile.
"Rody!" she hollered. "Ryan's here!"
Screaming family members and their screaming rug monsters filled the spacious cottage. Sarah clung to me tighter than a vice. Her pulse was high, I could tell from the way her heartbeat against my upper arm. She leaned so hard, I was surprised she didn’t knock me over.
"Relax, they don't bite," I reassured her.
Rodin saw us standing in the entryway and sauntered toward us with his hands in his pockets. He wore a forest green sweater and dark slacks. He glanced at Sarah clinging to me for dear life. Dad looked at me with a smile, before greeting us.
"I've seen you before Ryan, who's the young woman?" he asked holding out his hand.
"Sarah, I'm Sarah," she said as she shook.
"Welcome Sarah, Rodin Casey. I usually break out the booze for these sort of gatherings, you're more than welcome to it." Virginia greeted us with a wine glass in hand.
"Leave the boys to their booze," she said grabbing Sarah. Sarah stared back at me as Virginia pulled her away.
"Where'd you find her?" Rodin asked. "She's certainly not ugly."
"We met through a friend," I said. Sounded real enough.
"Is she the girl? Or, a girl?" Rodin asked.
"She's the one," I said as I smiled and walked off into the house. My father patted me on the back and joined me. We walked into Christmas chaos. Rodin insisted that on holidays the family prepare the meals, roast the turkey, sing carols and toast s'mores...the whole nine. Like something out of It's A Wonderful Life. Our Hampton cottage had four Christmas trees; don't ask me why.
I left the chaos in the dining room to go check on Sarah. On my way to Virginia's room, I saw my step-sister in the bathroom with the door slightly open. After a few knocks, I called out to her.
"Where's Sarah?"
Virginia stood over the toilet with her ring pressed up against her nose. She snorted a bump and wiped away the snow white residue with her freshly manicured fingernails.
"Focus for two seconds, Vi," I said.
"Want some?" she asked.
"Sarah, where is she?"
"Do you see the words chaperone written on my face?" I looked into her near bloodshot eyes as she squirted in drops of Visine.
"Do you think you can give it a rest for the next four days, huh? There's fucking kids swarming the place. I don't want to be the one to explain how little Timmy Jr. is on an acid trip."
Virginia flipped me the bird as she squeezed between me and the door frame.
In the guest room, Sarah held a photo album in her hand. My Dad stood at her side, and I rushed in. Had to be sure the truth wouldn't slip out.
"Come on, that stuff has got to be boring you," I said interrupting them.
"You have a beautiful family, Mr. Casey," Sarah told Rodin. Sarah pointed at the saxophone.
"You play jazz?" she asked.
I nodded.
"I wanted Ryan to take up something more classical, but he insisted on the saxophone. Thought he was just trying to spite me, but it's the only thing Ryan's ever stuck with. He’s actually quite a smart kid, despite appearances..."
"Anyway, dinner should be ready soon," Rodin said. "Let's go set the table."
***
A crowd of close and distant relatives shuffled around the dining room table. Virginia delicately set the plates. Svetlana and Sarah were in the kitchen. Rodin and a throng of other relatives, I didn't care to remember, set the table. Svetlana entered; her tanned arms hugged tightly around a silver platter with a perfectly roasted turkey sitting on top. A line of people brought out plate after plate of food, no sign of Sarah.
"Has anyone seen the carving knife?" Svetlana asked.
When everyone sat down, my father prepared to bless the food.
"Where's Sarah?" he asked staring at the single empty chair.
"Start without us," I said, scooting away from the table. "I'll go get her."
I headed toward the kitchen and there Sarah stood. When I tell you I wasn't prepared to see what I walked in on, you'll think I'm exaggerating. Her legs were spread wide and the blunt end of the carving knife sunk deep inside her pussy. She was going at it, hard. her back was toward me as she masturbated like I wasn't even standing there.
"Sarah?" I asked.
Shocked, Sarah dropped the knife suddenly and she slinks to the marble kitchen floor. Tears run down her face as she begins to sob into her hands.
"What the hell is going on?!" I ask her. She doesn't answer. Instead, she pulls down her dress and bolts for the door. I grab her arm.
"Where are you going?"
"Let go of me! I didn't want anyone to see me like this," she shouted, shoving me against our stainless steel fridge.
"What's wrong with you, Sarah?" I asked, posting her up right in front of me.
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? A rich kid nearly kills me, asks me to move in with him and because I got nowhere else to go, I do."
"None of this explains why two seconds ago you were fucking yourself with a carving knife," I told her.
"I'm done," she said. "You don't control me." Sarah was having a meltdown, and her flush cheeks and ferocious shoves made me harder than anything I've ever felt before. A meltdown meant a breaking point. Fragile. Vulnerable. Ripe.
"We had a deal!" I told her.
"Goodbye, Ryan," she said.
I grab her and hold her close to me, she escapes my grip. I stood solidly in front of the kitchen door. My father could be heard starting to give grace. There was no way out. Sarah circles the cold marble floor barefoot. The flowy end of her red dress swayed around her thighs.
"I know you're lying to me about something, Ryan," she says cold. "Why are you keeping secrets?"
"I'm keeping secrets?" I laughed and stormed towards her.
"What about those bruises, Sarah? Those scars? What’d you do? Tumble down a flight of stairs a few hundred times?" She launched at me, crying and punched me in my chest. Each of her painful blows, hit me like a spike of pure adrenaline. I forced her around and gripped her at her hips. Pre-cum wet the front of my briefs.
"You barely know me, but you bring me out here and show me off to your family. I'm not well-spoken. I'm not smart. I'm a runway," she breathes.
Sarah kicks me with her legs as I wrench her up against my cock pressing hard against my jeans.
"Please stop," she cries. The smell of that dark black hair, I didn't know how long I could hold back.
"Out with it, Sarah!" I shook her. "What are you hiding?" I said bracing her back against my chest. Sarah cradled her head back on my shoulder.
"I'm a sex addict," she confessed.
I yanked up her dress and wouldn't let her go. She hooked her arm around my neck and spread her legs wide, waiting for me—wanting me. Her free hand squeezed behind her back and over my chest as she artfully unbuckled the belt in my jeans. She unzipped fast and broke the zipper as she dug for my cock. She didn't even bother with foreplay, just lowered herself fast and groaned as I pushed my dick deep inside. We could hear them, my father talking about the bounty and blessing the food, while we fucked ruthlessly and I covered her mouth with my other hand.
"Grab my hair," she said muffled under my fingers.
I grabbed it soft as I rammed my cock back and forth slamming my lower chest against her ass.
"Please, harder," she begged.
I pulled her hair tighter. Her neck was so taut I thought I'd snap it in two. She freed herself from underneath my hand as she reached and tightened my balls in her fist.
"Tell, me," she said her voice raspy and hoarse. "How does it feel?"
I couldn't even speak, I thrust so hard spit flew from my lips as I just tried to hold on. If anyone walked in, I wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop. She grabbed the extra virgin olive oil.
"Pour it," she told me. In a sex-induced delirium, I snatched it from her, ripped the back of her dress and drizzled it all over her bruised back. I freed my hands and massaged it evenly. First, around those soft dewy curves of her ass and then up against her tight enclosed anus. My hands moved down to Sara's plump clitoris, and I pressed down as hard as I could. She bucked back and I slid my hands up her sides and spread oil all over her small breasts. She pushed down so far she sat right on top of my testicles, her pussy tightened around the whole of my cock. To think, just moments ago, I thought I picked up the most frigid prostitute in all of the tri-state area.
I rubbed her clit furiously as she braced back so hard her glasses fell from her face. I pivoted twisting her face toward me, and crushed them underneath my hi-top sneakers. Her hair. Her breath. Her eyes locked right into mine. She scrabbled up and clung to me as I forced her legs wider and sealed my lips over her nipples. The ridge of my thick veiny cock throbbed in the wet and the warmth. She wanted to scream instead she bit down hard on my shoulder. There was no stopping it now, I was near a full-force cum. I exhaled deep and as I felt my dick cum, her pussy suctioned me still.
Sarah and I separated quietly. We were both exposed. She looked at me and tensely grabbed the shreds of her dress. I looked at her as I held up my denim jeans.
"Praise God, Amen," We both overheard Rodin say outside the door from the dining room table.