The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (16 page)

“Put your hands on the bed and bend over,” he instructed authoritatively, as if she were under arrest. “This is all you’re getting for the rest of the morning, then you need to eat.” He admired her round, soft ass. Saint quickly dropped to his knees behind her and pushed her thighs open. He softly kissed and licked her ass cheeks, up and down. The feathery licking of her twin pillows soon migrated to the crack of her ass. He sucked her asshole, darting his tongue in and out of her. Xenia moaned and gurgled as she fell forward limply. Saint reached in front of her and tenderly rubbed her clitoris.

“I can’t believe you’re eating my ass,” Xenia said as she enjoyed the forbidden pleasures. This continued for a few more minutes. Saint stood up, his erection long and strong. With his knee, he opened her legs further apart. Dropping down slightly, he angled himself perfectly, entering her doggy-style, planting his feet firmly as he held on tightly to her waist. Xenia moaned as she felt him engulf her pleasingly saturated pussy once more. Saint’s scrotum hit her fat pussy lips with each deep, merciless thrust. He continued to delicately strum her clit. She leaned forward, pushing her soft breasts into the bed until they flattened. Saint stood to the side, angling his thrusts as he put one leg on the bed and leaned over her back. He moaned as he thrust in and out of her, gradually increasing speed. He rose and looked down at his dick going in and out of her drenched pussy. He bit his bottom lip as he was turned on by her sap coating his hard cock. He slowed down, eventually stopping altogether, then pulled out of her and lifted her abruptly into the air. Standing in the middle of the bedroom, he held her over his head, lowering her dripping wet pussy to his face as he braced her hips and thighs with his hands. She gasped as she looked down. He kept her steady, eating her in midair. Her body began to quake uncontrollably as she came.

“Saint, I’m going to fall!” she yelled out, laughing and digging her nails into his back.

She heard his muffled voice say, “Just hold on.” He slid her roughly up and down his mouth, from her clit to her slit, eating everything in sight. Soon her cascade erupted forcefully, floating down his throat, glossing over his lips and chin. She shook and shivered as he slowly lowered her back down, then carried her across the room where he gently laid her limp body across the bed. She held herself tightly as her body vibrated uncontrollably. He wrapped a towel around his waist, walked out of the room, and returned with their food. He arranged her meal, and placing a single red rose on the tray. He stood there, watching her body slowly quiver less until it finally completely stopped. She looked up at him from her fetal position. He smiled down at her as he took the towel off.

“Honey, come on and eat.” He fluffed her pillows and sat her up. Saint rubbed her shoulder lightly as he watched her take a bite of her eggs.

“They might be a little cold now. I can warm them up if you’d like. There’s a microwave in here,” he offered. Xenia shook her head.

“They’re fine,” she said, looking up at him with her tear-streaked face. He caressed her chin and walked away, sliding next to her in bed with his own tray soon after.

“So,” Saint said, “is there anything you want to talk about – anything you want to know about me that you don’t know?”

Xenia
stopped eating. “I want to know a lot. Some answers you can’t give me, though, like why I’m even in here with you.” Xenia looked away, then back at him. “I want to know things that the rational part of me would’ve asked before this…before this – I don’t even know what to call it, happened. I feel like my world has been turned upside-down, and I don’t understand why you chose me when you could have any other woman you wanted. Why did you pursue someone who didn’t even like you when there are so many women that do?”

“Well,” Saint began, “you said you don’t know what to call this. We made love. That part is simple. The other part, which has you so confused, I suppose, is how you feel about me, yourself, and what we did. You haven’t had this sort of strong emotional and sexual connection with anyone else, obviously, because they weren’t designed for you – to be your life partner. The same goes for me. I’ve never connected to anyone the way I have with you. The sex aside for a minute, I chose you because I know what I want, and I know you’re it. It’s just a feeling. You did like me. That was your problem, and that’s why you resisted. My motive wasn’t to stroke my ego. I pursued you because I knew we both wanted each other.”

“But you don’t really know me, Saint. We haven’t known each other but a week. None of this makes sense.” Xenia shook her head.

“Remember the dream, Xenia. Dreams are important. They’re a way for God to talk to us. It’s the only time we’re calm enough to listen without interruption. Since the age of twenty-eight, I’ve been looking for my wife. I was ready to settle down. When you’ve dated as much as I have and had as much sex as I have, you know pretty quickly who’s good for you and who isn’t.”

“I want to know more about this dream of yours,” Xenia said.

“After I dreamed of you and saw you in person the first time, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind what role you’d play in my life. I don’t expect anyone to understand it. I barely understand it myself. I just know it feels right and that when I kiss you, my circuitry goes berserk. The first time we kissed, I literally got a headache because the blood from my heart started pumping too fast. When I hear your voice, I can’t hear anything else. When I taste you, I don’t want to miss a single drop. I thirst for you. I can’t get enough of you. Two people can meet, date for ten years, get married, and then divorce in three months. It happens all the time. Just because we’ve known each other for only a week doesn’t make this wrong. We don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone. You have to stop worrying about what your friends and radio listeners are going to say. This is your life, not theirs. Not everything is explainable, nor does it need to be. Sometimes you just know what you know,” Saint took another drink of his juice.

Xenia
reflected on his words. “I want to know about your family. How did you come to be who you are? Who are you?” She looked directly at him as she put her fork down on her plate.

Saint took a deep breath and smiled. “Good, now we’re getting somewhere,” he said. “My mother and father were born here in America, contrary to the assumption that they weren’t. My mother’s parents were born in North Korea. My mother met my father at her parents’ business. They owned a small grocery store in Brooklyn. Her parents forbade them to date because my father is Muslim. They met secretly anyway, but eventually my mother got caught. Her family threatened to disown her. She was a free spirit as am I. She didn’t care what other people thought of her. My parents were very much in love. I grew up with great examples of how to treat a woman and how a woman is supposed to treat her husband. They were affectionate and caring to one another. My father’s family lived in Egypt. His mother’s side was Arab Semitic. His father’s side was Muslim, so theirs was another forbidden union. It’s in my blood to be attracted to women outside of my race. It’s hereditary. My father’s mother also had Lebanese ancestry. I’m explaining this because there is this misconception that all Egyptians are Black and Arabic when that isn’t always the case. My father is a mixture of a few ethnicities and cultures. He even has some Iranian. Sometimes to avoid confusion when asked, I just say my mother is Asian and my father is Middle Eastern. That pretty much sums it up. Anyway, I never heard my father raise his voice to my mother. They had fun together and loved me very much. My mother was very laid back, but my father was a lot stricter. They seemed to balance each other out. My father was a high school teacher. He’s retired now, though. He taught Chemistry, Biology, and Health. That’s where my interest in science began.”

Saint paused and took a deep breath before he continued. “My mother died when I was fourteen. A distracted driver ran over her. The guy who hit her wasn’t drunk or high, he just didn’t give a shit that she was standing there. She was crossing the street at a crosswalk, returning home after work. He drove off and left her there as if she was a raccoon. If a couple of people hadn’t gotten the license plate number, he probably would’ve never been caught.” Saint blinked his eyes, chewed his bottom lip and sighed. “My father was never the same after she died. She was the love of his life. My maternal grandparents eventually accepted us, but she never lived to see it. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. My parents thought the world was too crazy to bring children into it, but I was a surprise,” Saint smiled. “Despite their efforts, I was conceived anyway. You wouldn’t have known that I wasn’t planned the way I was treated. I saw what it looks like to lose love. My father is doing better now, but he’s still not the same, and he never remarried. No one compares to my mother according to him. She was his true soulmate and can’t be replaced. I know what he means now. I know what it feels like to meet your equal.” He looked over at Xenia and kissed her cheek.

“I know I told you after I brought her up in the interview that I was sorry, Saint, but I really am. I shouldn’t have done that. I had no idea she was deceased. Thanks for telling me what happened,” Xenia said, as she caressed his arm. Saint looked down at her hand, the way she wrapped it around him. A memory of his mother taking his arm as she sat him down at their kitchen table entered his mind:

“Saint, I know you’ve been having those dreams again,” his mom said. Saint was just seven years old. “I need to tell you something. Some of this you may not understand. You have a gift. Most people won’t understand it, so it’s best you not talk about it much, especially with your father. As much as he loves you, he just wouldn’t understand. My grandmother called it ‘Dwae-ji-kkum kku-se-yo Spirit’ which means ‘good night and sweet dreams.’ The ‘good night and sweet dreams’ spirit lives in special children like you, and when they become adults, it becomes very powerful. Their dreams help them navigate through their lives. It gives you important information. You can help people, Saint. You have a special calling. There will be a time in your life when you’ll have an opportunity to help thousands of people, maybe more. It will begin with a passion of yours and grow exponentially.”

“Do all kids have it?” Saint asked his mother.

“No. I realized you had it as soon as you were born. You have something very special. You’re much more advanced than me. You have far more power. Your great grandmother saw you before she died. She held you in her arms and hugged you so tightly. She told me, ‘He has “good night and sweet dream” spirit. I told her I understood. You shouldn’t be afraid, Saint, but you have to be responsible.”

“What do you mean?” Saint asked.

“When you’re a grown man, things will begin to happen to you. You’ll see your power and may be shocked if you’re not prepared. You’ll be able to see and do more things. Don’t ever, ever, ever use your power to hurt anyone, Saint,” she cautioned. “Only use it to help others or protect yourself. There are terrible consequences if you don’t heed this warning. Do you understand? Promise me.

Saint nodded, fearful of his mother’s warning. “I promise.”

“Saint? Saint? Are you OK?” Xenia asked, snapping him out of his daydream.

Saint nodded, “Yes, I’m sorry – anyway – yeah, my mother, she was a beautiful person. I started getting a little girl crazy at around thirteen, but believe it or not, I was really shy. I remember my mother teaching me how to slow dance in our kitchen.” His thoughts trailed off again, as he reflected and smiled. “There was a school dance coming up, but I didn’t know how. After she died, I just stuck my head in the sand and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. I don’t cry because of that. I haven’t cried since her funeral. I’ve come close several times, but I just don’t. That was another time in my life when I just knew what I knew. Right before she was killed, I got sick to my stomach and couldn’t figure out why. It happened all of the sudden. I was queasy and vomiting. About an hour later, the police were at our door. I tried to go on with my life and not think about it. I would never talk about her. It was too painful. I dove deeply into anything that would distract me from dealing with reality. I kept busy, so much so that I barely slept, and then I couldn’t sleep at all, for real. I became older and went to college. I earned my Ph.D. in Psychology and Human Sexuality. I eventually opened my own practice. I started writing books, and then I quickly became famous and was invited to speak at various venues. I’ve pretty much had to give up my private practice. My life has completely changed. What I do now for a living is a way of life for me. This is how I live and what I believe. I had no idea that there were so many men that agreed with me and wanted guidance. The rest is history,” Saint shrugged.

“How did you become such an incredible lover?” Xenia asked as she studied his hands.

“Through research, practice, and asking questions – not being afraid to try new things – being comfortable with myself and the human body in general. I loved women and took time to understand how your minds work, understanding the emotional side of sex, wanting to please, wanting to feel love. For a rather lengthy time period, I used sex to fill a void. Anything I set out to do, especially if it involves another person, I try my best,” Saint answered. “Speaking of sex and love, let me ask you something. What would you say you’re best at and the worst at sexually?” He smiled as he put a piece of turkey sausage in his mouth.

Xenia
laughed. “I’m on the spot now. I’m used to being the one that asks the questions.”

Saint rubbed her thigh. “Yeah, I noticed,” he murmured.