Single Minded Purpose

Smooth Operator

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Matrix.

Author’s Note: To all of my readers: thank you for waiting so patiently for this chapter—it was very hard to write and I couldn’t have done it without the support of my very good friend Cecilia. You gave me the confidence I needed when I needed it and there were a few times that I needed to have my butt kicked into gear and finish this chapter, and you gave me that too…I owe you, dudette.

Warning: this chapter contains a hot and descriptive sex scene between Smith and Sarah. Enjoy and tell me what you think—PLEASE R&R!!

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“SHIT!” Sarah cursed, as she helplessly watched the bus she had been running to catch pull away and proceed down the street. It had been the last one of the evening and now she was forced to walk home. C’mon girl, she told herself, you’ve walked home before; this will be nothing new. However, it was still a long way back and I’m not going to get home standing here on the street. Besides, she thought to herself, it is not like its raining or anything.

As if on cue, the dark skies above opened and it began to pour. The falling moisture was cold and it wasn’t long before Sarah felt it soak through her clothes, chilling her skin until her teeth started to chatter. She hadn’t bothered to wear a jacket that evening for she had been sure that she would be getting a ride home from Smith, eliminating the need for any outerwear. Yeah, I was sure wrong about that wasn’t I, she grumbled to herself, looking glumly out into the solid sheet of rain. How was I supposed to know that that jerk would just abandon me like that? I’m not going to get home if I just stand here, and she resolutely started on her long journey home.

Damn that Smith for leaving me here like this, she fumed angrily. Who the hell does he think he is anyway? He never would have found that meeting place on his own and he knows it, yet he has the nerve to treat me like that. Find your own way home, he said. Goddamn that smug bastard with those gorgeous blue eyes of his. I hate him! But deep down inside, she knew she felt no such thing. And there I was--eager and anxious to have him kiss me….Hell, if Smith had wanted to fuck me up against that wall like a ten-dollar whore, I wouldn’t have said no.

She had been so absorbed about her unpleasant predicament that she had not noticed that a sleek, black Audi had been following her until she heard a deep, masculine voice call her name from the passenger side window of the car.

“Would you like a ride?” Smith asked.

“No, I can get home just fine. Don’t trouble yourself about me,” she snapped, as she continued to walk.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” he said, injecting just the right amount of concern into his voice to sound convincing. Damn it, he thought, what can I possibly say to get her to come with me? Hastily, he accessed his human relations subfield to find something conciliatory enough to say that would make her change her mind; and he found it, an obscure file on the correct and most effective phrase a human male would use in the same situation: “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

It worked. Sarah stopped walking. She was listening at least, and that was saying something. He owed her more than that, and she waited for his apology proudly.

“I behaved like a jackass back there and I know it. It’s just that I was upset at seeing him again and I wasn’t thinking straight. Please come inside, Sarah, so we can talk.”

She grudgingly nodded her acceptance before opening the passenger side door and getting into the warm, dark, and most importantly, dry car. She was not aware of how cold she had been up until this point and she shivered as her body responded to the warmth of the car’s interior.

Smith eyed her sidelong and took in her bedraggled appearance with one glance. “You should change and get into something dry,” he remarked.

“I know, but my place is across town. I can wait.”

“No, you can’t,” Smith stated firmly. “You have to get out of those wet clothes now. Besides, my place is a lot closer. We’ll be there in less than five minutes and once we dry out your clothes, I will take you home.”

“All right,” Sarah agreed. The feel of her wet clothes against her skin was uncomfortable and she longed to get out of them and be able to feel dry and warm again.

They drove to Smith’s new place of residence. After Bronwyn’s death and burial far away from the reach of the Machines, he had returned to this city and had realized that he needed a place to use as not only a base of operation, but also somewhere where he could think and work without interruption in quietness and solitude. When he first acquired it, he had given no thought to furnishing it beyond what he needed, but after meeting Sarah, he decided to have it furnished just in case she ever had to come and see him.

Smith had had enough money at his disposal to live in the best area of town, but he decided not to draw attention to himself by living in a part of town where everyone knew everything about their fellow inhabitants. Instead, he had taken lodgings in a quieter, though still upscale neighbourhood that was close to every amenity the city had to offer, while still ensuring that his privacy would be respected. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad place he now called home.

When they arrived, he manipulated the Matrix so that a fire burned merrily in the living room fireplace. Sarah held out her cold hands towards its heat and Smith had excused himself for a moment. Shortly afterward, he returned and through the now-open bathroom door, Sarah could hear running water. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty of drawing you a hot bath.”

“Thank you, Smith,” she said, relieved and surprised at his thoughtfulness and consideration for her needs. “But where did you learn to do that? I wasn’t aware that that had been programmed into an agent’s database.”

“You’d be surprised what information the Architect programmed me with,” Smith said knowingly. You do not have to know that I retrieved that information from Jones’ files when I took his programming as my own, he thought to himself. Up until that time, I had not been aware that Jones had performed this particular intimate service for Bronwyn on more than one occasion; and had even joined her in the bath several times. Smith felt his groin tighten when he felt and realized how stimulating and erotic it had been for Jones to see the woman he loved in the bath, completely nude except for millions of fragrant bubbles. As well, the sensation of running his fingers and hands through her soapy hair as he washed it for her was highly sensual, to say the least.

Digging still deeper through Jones’ database, Smith was even able to retrieve a file that contained images of Bronwyn shaving Jones; the experience was so realistic Smith thought he could feel her breath against his own cheek …

Bronwyn ran her fingertips over Jones’ jaw playfully as they dawdled in the bathtub together. The water was still deliciously hot and neither wanted to leave its warmth just yet. “You definitely need a shave, former Agent Jones,” she said, with a provocative twinkle in her eyes.

“Really?” he responded in kind. “And why would that be, I wonder?” he said, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer to him, deliberately brushing his raspy cheek against her neck, making her squeal in delight. He knew very well of course, that touching her sensitive neck with his unshaven chin had that effect on her; and as he expected, her nipples were fully erect when he brushed his fingers against them. “You haven’t answered my question Bronwyn,” Jones said, his lips against her ear as he nuzzled her again.

When he looked at her face, he was surprised to see a blush suffuse over her face, making even her ears turn red. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?” he asked, immediately concerned.

She ducked her head from his unrelenting stare and he raised her chin so he could look into her eyes.

“No, you didn’t say anything, it’s just that…” Bronwyn paused, unsure how to tell him what was troubling her.

“Just what?”

“OK Jones, you asked for it. It’s just that sometimes when you don’t shave and you eat me, it kind of hurts on the inside of my thighs, that’s all. It scratches me.”

Relieved, Jones sighed. “If it bothered you so much, why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“I don’t know. I just thought it was embarrassing.”

Jones leaned back. “All right, woman. Shave me,” he ordered teasingly.

Bronwyn spread his knees until she was able to sit between them, her hands resting on his shoulders. Leaning forward, she kissed the end of his nose before running the tip of her finger across his lips. Her feather light touch tingled against his skin and Jones opened his mouth a little wider so she could tease his mouth further. However, her focus was not on solely touching his mouth; she had other things on her mind.

Gently, she massaged his neck and Jones let out a sigh as the relaxing movements made him feel better. When Bronwyn was convinced that his neck muscles were loosened up to her satisfaction, she slipped her hands down his forearms, kneading the muscles as she went. However, it did not stop there.

Resting her hands on his knees for a moment, she then slid them up his thighs. Jones could feel his penis stir and then harden almost to full attention when Bronwyn leaned forward so that the tip of her hot, wet tongue leisurely invaded and explored the curves and swirls of his ear; her heavy and warm breath sent shivers down Jones’ spine until he could bear it no longer and his hands pulled her body against his hungrily…

Smith knew what had happened next; and not wishing to witness yet another intimate encounter between Bronwyn and Jones, he shook his head sharply to clear it and found Sarah looking at him quizzically, although she said nothing about the strange look that had been on his face. “But my clothes are still wet and I won’t have anything to wear until they are dry.”

“Don’t worry about that. When you are ready, you can hand your clothes to me through the door and I will give you something to cover yourself and keep you warm until I can get them dry,” he said as he escorted her to the bathroom. She disappeared and handed her clothes piece by piece to Smith through a crack in the door.

“Sarah?” he called, as he absently rummaged through the sodden pile of clothes he held on his arm.

“Yes?”

“I think you had better give me everything you were wearing. You are soaked to the skin and you won’t be able to get warm properly if you are still wearing wet underclothes.”

She blushed as she understood his meaning, but she realized the logic of what he was trying to say and she could not look at him when she handed him her brassiere and panties.

“There are lots of towels; don’t hesitate to use as many as you need and the duvet will be outside the door. You can wear it when you come out,” Smith said before he turned away from the door and went to the liquor cabinet and poured a modest amount of brandy in two glasses before he put them on a tray and placed them before the fire so its heat could warm it to the desired temperature. He arranged Sarah’s clothing on the hearth so that they would become dry in time, but not yet. He did not want her running off before he was done with her.

Shortly afterwards, there was a knock at the door but Smith already knew who it was. He had been aware of Seraph’s unobtrusive presence since he had picked Sarah up in his car. She will never know it, but Seraph was almost upon her when I found her on the street. If I had been only a few moments later, it would have been too late. It only makes sense that he would follow us to see where we were going.

No doubt, he thinks I am taking advantage of his sister at this moment and I see no reason to correct him. Besides, he reflected, I will be doing that soon enough anyway. Seraph and I have despised one another from almost the very beginning of our respective existences, but this is the first time I have ever had an advantage of any kind against him. If I recall from a file tutorial, in most personal relationships with a woman and her family, if she is seeing someone whom her own kin is violently opposed to, it only succeeds in making her more determined to stay with that man.

To have him assume that Sarah and I are now intimately involved would be hitting her brother below the belt, so to speak, but he deserves it. Quickly Smith rumpled his hair, removed his tie and its accompanying silver clasp and undid several buttons on his shirt. Anyone who didn’t know him would think that he had been interrupted during an amorous encounter, which is exactly what Smith wanted her brother to think. He answered the door and stood aside as Seraph forced his way in. “By all means, Seraph, do come in,” Smith said silkily as he closed the door behind his unwanted, though not completely unexpected, guest.

Seraph’s mouth tightened in anger when he took in Smith’s unaccustomed state of déshabillé, but said nothing. For his part, Seraph was relieved when he found no traces of Sarah anywhere on Smith’s entire person: there was no lipstick or saliva on his face (or anywhere else that Seraph could see for that matter), and no stray hairs on Smith’s clothes.

“Where is Sarah? I know she’s here; I saw her come in,” Seraph demanded, quickly stepping into the living room. With one glance, he took in everything: two glasses of brandy on a tray, a roaring fire in the grate and a woman’s cast off clothing in front of it. Seraph’s face twisted in rage when he saw a matching pair of bra and panties among the pile of clothes that were in the process of drying before the fire’s warmth. The scene looked as if the undressed woman would return to her lover at any moment and the fact that this potential lover of his sister’s would be Smith, the program he hated and despised most in the entire Matrix, enraged and infuriated Seraph to a degree he never thought possible.

“Where is she?” Seraph repeated, whirling around to face Smith who had the self-satisfied look of a man who had just been interrupted shortly before consummating another intimate conquest he had been anticipating.

“She’s having a bath now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she takes a nap afterward: she is quite tired, you know,” Smith said, a devilish grin on his face. The implication that Sarah was tired because of the possible tryst with Smith remained in the air between the two men, unspoken. The very idea of it made Seraph’s blood boil with anger and his face flush with mortification and shame.

“Goddamn you, Smith,” the normally mild-mannered program hissed, “the Matrix is full of millions of women and you have to pick my sister!”

“Precisely,” sneered Smith succinctly.

“Bastard!” shouted Seraph, punching Smith in the jaw, knocking him off-balance. Before any of them knew it, Smith was down on one knee before Seraph kicked him onto his back and was ready to drive his foot directly into Smith’s groin.

“That’s just to make sure you don’t do anything to my sister either now or anytime soon,” Seraph snarled, his foot poised, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Sarah framed in the doorway with an expensive duvet wrapped around herself to cover her nakedness.

“Seraph! What are you doing here?” She glanced from one man to the other. “Do you two know each other?”

“You might say that,” Smith drawled. In a split second, Smith saw his chance to drive an unmovable and unforgivable wedge between Sarah and her brother. “While you and I have been trying to locate Mr. Anderson, all this time Seraph has been working closely with him and his friends, Sarah--the ones who killed your fiancé.”

Seraph was taken aback when he saw the fury reflected her eyes.

“Is it true?” she demanded.

“You don’t understand, Sarah, there’s more to it that that…”

“The hell I don’t understand! I understand perfectly! Have you been helping the humans who killed Danny?”

Sarah saw the glare her brother had shot Smith. “Don’t look at him,” Sarah demanded fiercely, “you look me straight in the eye and tell me. Have you been helping them, yes or no?

“Yes, I have.”

“How could you? You know better than anyone does how much I loved him, how much I miss him! I lost my child because of what your human friends did!”

“There is much more to it than that. If you will just listen for one minute…” He sought to explain his actions, but Sarah would have none of it.

“NO I WON’T LISTEN!” she yelled, pointing at the door with an unsteady hand. “I want you to leave. Now!”

“No,” Seraph said softly, “I won’t leave. Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”

“SHUT UP, SERAPH! I do not want to hear anything, anything you have to say. Just get the hell out of here!”

“Sarah, you can’t listen to Smith, he’s not telling you everything. Besides, he brought you here tonight because he wanted to take advantage of you! He takes your clothes and then he was going to get you drunk!” Seraph pointed to the pile of clothes at the fireside and the two glasses of brandy that waited nearby.

“First of all, had you bothered to ask, I gave him my clothes so he could get them dry, he didn’t take them. Second, I am a grown woman who is old enough to have a drink in the company of another man besides you, brother, and lastly, if Smith and I want to fuck each other’s brains out tonight, then that is our business, NOT yours.”

“But Sarah, you don’t understand ...”

“You are the one who doesn’t understand, Seraph,” she said, interrupting him. “You are the intruder here and I think you should leave.”

“No. You must listen to me and not him! He is nothing but a liar and he only wants to use you for his own pleasure, can’t you see that? He left you out in the street in the pouring rain earlier tonight, didn’t he? Doesn’t that tell you what kind of a man he is?”

Smith saw with apprehension how Sarah avoided looking at him and not wishing to lose any ground he had gained during his acquaintance with her, he sought to discredit Seraph any way he could.

“Your brother has an unsavoury history of his own, Sarah,” Smith interjected. “He has a past that he hasn’t told you about, isn’t that right, Collector?” Smith sneered, calling his adversary by his former title. By the look on Seraph’s face, Smith knew that he had never told his sister of the exact nature of his previous employment with the Merovingian and Smith knew that Seraph certainly did not want her to hear it from him first.

Sarah cast a puzzled glance at her brother. “Collector? What is he talking about, Seraph?” When she received no reply, she turned her attention back to Smith. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not surprised at your ignorance of this matter, Sarah,” Smith said, “and I do not mean that in an offensive way, please believe me, but I think it’s time you knew about a side to your brother that he has kept from you for too long.” He indicated a seat on the hunter-green leather sofa. “Please sit down. This will take a while.”

“No thanks. I’ll stand. Don’t sugar coat anything Smith, just tell me.”

“You already know that your brother used to work for the Merovingian, but he never did tell you what his purpose was, did he? Well, I know exactly what he did and what his job was. To put it bluntly, Seraph was a debt collector for him. His muscle, you might even say. If someone owned the Merovingian some money and did not pay up, he would send your brother to collect what was owed and he was authorized by the Frenchman to use any and all means necessary.”

“Including physical violence?”

“Especially physical violence. Why else would Seraph programmed with such skill in martial arts if not to inflict pain? Seraph may preach about being a reformed man, but his past is filled with as many dark deeds as mine. Then he met the Oracle. After that, he had an epiphany, if you will. She convinced him that he was created for a higher purpose—to guard her against those elements in the Matrix that might wish to do her harm.”

Sarah looked at her brother as if she were seeing him for the first time. She knew of his abilities in martial arts and the thought of him using those gifts he possessed against another living being, whether they were program or human, filled her with revulsion.

“Is this true, Seraph? Did you really do that, hurt people for that awful man?” Sarah asked. When he did not respond, then she knew that every disgusting thing Smith had just told her was true. She shook her head, finally allowing the grief and anger she had been trying to suppress to come to the surface. “Who are you? I never knew the real you. You are a complete stranger to me. What else have you kept from me? What other secrets have you not told me? Get out, Seraph. I mean it,” Sarah said, her eyes steely and determined.

“But Sarah…” Seraph tried to reason with her, but after one look at her face, he knew that she was in no mind to listen to anything he might say. He nodded sadly, then reluctantly left Smith’s apartment.

“I’m sorry about all that with Seraph,” Sarah began to say when the door closed, but Smith waved away her apology with a smile. He went to where he had placed the two snifters of brandy before Seraph’s entrance and interruption and picked them up, handing one of them to his companion.

“He was only looking out for you. Go on, take it. You look like you could use it. It will warm you up,” he said reassuringly. She hesitantly took the glass from him and cautiously took a sip before drinking deeply. The amber coloured liquor burned her tongue, but the warmth she felt after she swallowed did make her feel better.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully as Smith immediately replenished her glass.

“Come, sit by the fire,” Smith said, and showed her the example. She sat beside him in front of the fire, on the costly terra cotta coloured Persian rug watching the endless dance and sway of the flames, accompanied by their lively crackle. Wrapped in the down duvet, the combination of the warmth of the fire and liquor was soothing, and she found that the more brandy she drank, the more her inhibitions were being affected as well.

“Seraph loves you, you know,” Smith said at last.

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know who he is anymore. How could he keep something like that from me?”

“I don’t know why he did what he did,” Smith replied, “maybe he thought he was protecting you somehow.” He feigned a look of concern on his face and shook his head in mock resignation. This has turned out better than I had hoped, he thought. Unless I am wrong, she will not listen to anything he might have to say and she will not heed his warnings about me until it is too late. He idly fingered his jaw where Seraph had managed to land a blow and the gesture caught Sarah’s notice, as Smith fully intended it would.

“I’m sorry, Smith. I’ve been rambling on and on about my problems and I completely forgot,” she said, reaching up to gently touch his face where a bruise was already beginning to swell. “It looks like he got you good, didn’t he? He must have been really mad to deliver a punch like that.”

“He was,” Smith said. “Listen to me, Sarah,” Smith said, taking her hand in his. “He doesn’t love you like a sister and he doesn’t see you as the little girl he has to protect from the big bad world anymore. He sees you as I and every other man in the Matrix does: a beautiful young woman.”

Sarah was flabbergasted. “He told you that?”

Smith shook his head. “He didn’t have to—I saw it in his face and in his eyes when you came out of the bathroom. I think it was quite the revelation to him to see you that way.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah breathed, “he must be so hurt after I yelled at him like that. I have to find him…”

Smith grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving, but she removed his hand. “I have to go, Smith.”

“Do you feel the same way about him?”

When she turned to look at him, she was distracted and confused. “What? No. I don’t know!”

Impulsively, Smith leaned over and kissed her. She did not pull away and timidly returned his kiss. In a heartbeat, in an instant, her errand of finding Seraph was completely forgotten—the sensations Smith aroused in her was making her head spin. Her whole world was focused on the feeling of his lips parting hers with a single-minded purpose, the feel of his tongue entwined with hers, the smell of his skin and aftershave prickled pleasantly in her nostrils, awakening feelings in her body she had never felt before.

Persephone was dead wrong when she told me once that kissing Smith was like kissing a dead fish, Sarah thought dreamily. In fact, the truth was more real, more intense than she ever could have imagined as she took delight in surrendering herself to the rising tide of desire that threatened to overwhelm her mind and senses.

She groaned in disappointment when his lips left hers and went to seek out the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. She moaned as his actions sent jolts of sensual pleasure straight to her nether region, and her nipples stiffened in anticipation of feeling his hot, wet mouth and tongue teasing her aureoles until they were hard, taut peaks. Smith felt himself getting hard when he heard the note of longing and desire beneath her moans. Every man is familiar with the spoken as well as silent urgings of his partner as they engage in pre-coital foreplay and Smith was no different. By observing her body language, he was able to determine that Sarah was more than eager for him to continue his pleasurable actions.

All she could think about was the desire and lust that was beginning to course through her veins; its flames pooling between her legs, making her clitoris tingle as it became engorged and swollen. She blushed when she realized that if she had been wearing panties, they would be thoroughly drenched because the strength of her arousal caused her body to release of copious amounts of feminine secretions. Sarah threaded her hands through his hair, urging his head downwards towards her upper torso where her breasts tingled in anticipation of feeling his hands caressing them.

“Would you like me to suckle you, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Yes, please,” she begged, her voice deep and throaty with passion.

Smith opened the duvet until Sarah’s upper body was completely exposed. She blushed and lowered her eyes so that he would not be able to see her embarrassment as well as the desire that shone from her eyes. Smith’s eyes wandered over her pale, creamy flesh and his mouth watered at the thought of soon being able to have a plump, rosy nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking over its tip until it was hard and firm and her moans in his ear while he drove her wild with desire.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get around to that, but there is something I want you to do first. Turn so that your back is facing me,” he said, his voice hoarse. She gave him a puzzled look but did as he instructed nonetheless. He settled her until she sat between his legs and her back was towards him. Skilfully, he began to massage her neck and shoulders, she groaned as all of her stress evaporated and she felt completely calm.

“Do you like this?” he asked, as he applied a little more pressure as he kneaded the taut muscles of her shoulders until they were pliant and relaxed.

This is another thing that I learned from Jones, he thought, for it made Bronwyn calm down whenever he did it to her. For some reason, she found it arousing and what worked on her will surely work on Sarah. He massaged her arms from her shoulders to her elbows and heard her gasp as his hands touched her breasts, caressing them gently before she felt the his palms touch her nipples for a moment, followed by his fingers and her body responded by turning them taut and erect immediately.

Sarah tensed, her back arching against his chest and her hand clutched at Smith’s knee when she felt his hand make it way down her body until it paused at the top of her thigh, wordlessly seeking permission to access her hidden depths. Without a second thought, she parted her legs slightly and gasped when his hand reached between them, stimulating her clitoris until it was a hard nub. Smith smirked to himself when he felt the wetness of her most intimate area saturate and engulf his fingers. His groin stirred to a painful state of arousal when his fingers were inundated with Sarah’s juices as he touched her. Against her back, she felt the evidence of Smith’s own desire as his groin tightened when he felt her eagerness and yearning for intercourse.

Slowly and deliberately, Smith turned Sarah around so that she faced him and when he started to undo the remaining unopened buttons on his shirt, she stopped his progress, indicating that she wished to do that for him. With each button, more of his chest was revealed and Sarah’s eyes devoured the sight of his flesh hungrily. She tugged his shirt free of his pants and her fingers fumbled awkwardly when she tried to undo the last buttons, and she struggled to complete her task. Exasperated, she ripped his shirt open sending the stubborn fasteners flying across the carpet.

Anxious aren’t you, Smith thought with suppressed amusement.

Sarah raked her nails lightly across her lover’s well-muscled torso in feminine appreciation of his near perfect form; touching here, caressing there, getting her fill of the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips. Either by accident or design, her nails scraped across one of his nipples and his breath hissed in a sudden intake.

“Here, let me kiss it better,” she murmured, and he groaned when her moist lips encircled his nipple. Now I know why women like this particular act so much, he mused, closing his eyes. It is extremely pleasurable. He allowed Sarah to push him onto his back and groaned when he felt her mouth trailing a series of wet kisses from his chest toward his stomach, finally stopping at his belt.

Using only her teeth, she undid the buckle and when that was done, she turned her attention to the zipper of his fly.

“Careful, Sarah,” he murmured softly.

“I’ll be gentle,” she teased, smugly satisfied at her power to arouse him; she had all the evidence she needed, for she could not help but feel his erection nudging at her chin through the constraints of his trousers. “If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that you like what I’m doing, former Agent Smith,” Sarah said, and Smith could hear amusement in the tone of her voice. “I never would have taken you for the kind of man who would let a woman be either on top or in control.”

She was completely unprepared as he suddenly flipped her over until her body was under his. “Now, I am the one on top and I am the one in control,” he said smoothly, before kissing her again, taking possession of her mouth; not roughly, but not exactly gentle either.

She groaned when Smith had finished his conquest of her mouth and nipped playfully at the sensitive area of her neck and shoulder. She arched her neck so that he could have access to all of her flesh and his hands came up to caress and fondle her breasts. She longed to feel his hot, wet mouth on her nipples and hardly aware of what she was doing, she breathlessly implored him to do so.

“Yes, ma’am,” Smith said quietly as he moved himself into position so he could comply with her request; and he took her nipple into his mouth, hearing Sarah’s loud gasp of pleasure as he did so. Her hands threaded through his hair and she moaned. Just you wait Sarah, Smith thought smugly, you haven’t even begun to feel anything resembling pleasure yet.

Sarah arched her back and dug her fingers deep into his hair when she felt his mouth trace slow, lingering kisses down towards her stomach.

“Shall I stop or do you want me to continue?” he asked raising his head, his eyes boring into her own, fixing upon hers with a magnetic and mesmerizing stare she was unable to tear her gaze from.

“No, don’t stop, please,” she implored.

Smith’s response was brief but to the point: “Beg, Sarah. Beg me to keep going and I will.”

“Oh God, why are you doing this to me? Why are you torturing me like this?” she moaned.

“Because I can,” he responded mischievously, trailing a finger to where he had left off with his mouth only he continued further south; through her pubic hair until his fingertip rested at the very beginning of her folds. “Now, shall I go up,” he purred lazily, retracing his way back toward her stomach, “or shall I go down,” lightly touching her clitoris. “Tell me.”

Thanks to Bronwyn, I now know exactly how to please a woman in the most intimate way possible and I will exploit all of that knowledge to the best of my ability. If she liked it, then you will too. However, you will not achieve your orgasm as easily as she did; I will make you beg for it.

“Down,” Sarah muttered, her teeth tightly clenched together as he caressed her centre again.

“Beg,” he whispered, before taking up where he left off.

“Please Smith, please!” she panted, her breath coming in quick gasps.

A brief flare of anger coursed through her when she heard his wolfish chuckle at her complete submission. All coherent thoughts left her head immediately, however, when she felt his lips and tongue part her folds and latch onto her swollen clitoris. Every thought, every fibre of her being was concentrated on the slightest movement and caress of her lover’s talented tongue. Escalating waves of pleasure rushed through her system as he continued to suckle and lick, bringing her closer to fulfillment; her hands had reached down and grabbed him by his ears, bringing more of his face into contact with herself. One of her fingernails sharply scraped the skin under one ear when he deliberately sucked her with slightly more pressure, intensifying the sensations.

He could tell she was very close to achieving her orgasm—all she needed was a few more strokes of his tongue and she would come. Indeed, he thought, she probably doesn’t even know that she scratched me. But I won’t let her climax. Not yet, it’s far too soon. Abruptly he stopped his ministrations. “I don’t think I’m going to let you come just yet,” he said.

In order for Seraph to feel the full brunt of my revenge against him, I not only will have you, but he will know that I have tasted you in the most intimate method possible. But what will really stick in his craw is that you have tasted me as well—willingly.

“Why the hell not?” Sarah begged, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I was so close to coming and he has to stop now?? She could have screamed aloud in frustration.

“I think it’s only fair that you reciprocate what I’ve been doing to you, wouldn’t you agree, Sarah?” he asked silkily.

What he is asking for isn’t so bad, Sarah pondered to herself. He only wants to experience that kind of pleasure for himself, and while I’ve never performed oral sex on a woman myself, it can’t be easy for a man to taste a woman in this fashion. Wouldn’t a man such as Smith find it degrading to do that? But if he is willing to do it to me, then I should not hesitate to return the favour, either.

Sarah got to her knees and with shaking hands, eagerly removed his pants and shorts until he was as nude as she was. Smith could have smiled to himself when he saw how discomfited she had become after seeing his naked form. Lying on his back, his mouth twisted into a slight smirk as her eyes traveled down the length of his body—lingering on his groin and fully erect member--then return to his face. Sarah blushed as she saw how the lower part of his face was still glistening with her feminine secretions.

“Why are you embarrassed, Sarah? This is just a part of you. It’s perfectly natural,” he said, correctly guessing the reason behind her embarrassment, and he took three of his fingers and wiped his face, extending his digits out to her. Sarah eagerly took one finger into her mouth and licked it clean, tasting herself. When she was done, she turned her attention to all of the fingers of his hand, taking each one in its turn completely into her mouth, and Smith was surprised when he felt aroused while she was doing so.

Interesting, he thought. I wonder if my response came because of my imagining what it would feel like with her lips and tongue around me, to feel completely enveloped in that wide, pretty mouth of hers. Her tongue sliding up and down my shaft as she incorporates just the right amount of suction similar to that she is performing on my finger right now.…He growled deep in his throat as he fantasized and anticipated how it was going to feel.

All of his expectations were exceeded exponentially when he felt Sarah’s warm breath lightly brush against the head of his penis before she opened her mouth and took him inside. Her lips encircled the tip as her tongue lapped up pre-cum that had oozed from the head before she slid downward until almost his entire length was inside of her mouth.

Sarah was inexperienced in this particular act of lovemaking; her fiancé had not insisted that she do this to him very often, so she was relatively unsure how to proceed. She knew the basic procedure all right, but her method and skill were somewhat lacking; however, Smith did not care. Besides, proficiency in any area only comes with practice and he was more than willing to instruct her in the correct technique of fellatio to bring the utmost satisfaction to him. To him, all that mattered was that she was trying.

Not only that, but Smith knew that the mere thought of Sarah performing this act on him would antagonise and upset Seraph to no end and the longer it lasted, the more agonising it would be.

As her mouth proceeded down his shaft, Smith resisted the urge to thrust himself until he was buried to the hilt in her mouth by running his hands through her hair. Even so, he was extremely hard put not to force her to take all of him inside her mouth at once. He let her set her own pace, for he knew that if he tried to force the issue in any way whatsoever, she might baulk at performing oral sex on him the next time he asked--or demanded--it from her. Therefore, he allowed her to take as long as she needed to become comfortable with his anatomy on her own terms.

All in all, he had to admit that she had some natural talent in performing fellatio; only time and patience on his part would bring the full scale of her abilities to fruition. His desire to be satiated was growing; he didn’t care how, but the sooner the better. With great reluctance, he told Sarah to stop and she obeyed, looking at him questioningly. “Was that—was I OK?” she asked nervously, and Smith saw in her eyes a childish desire to be reassured that her efforts had had some effect on him. “That was very good,” he replied, kissing her to show that he had no reluctance or hesitation about tasting his own discharge on her lips; there was nothing shameful or embarrassing about it, after all.

Gently he placed Sarah on her back and positioned himself between her legs. Pretending to have great concern for her, he took her slowly and carefully so that she would be prepared for his entry. She heaved a slight sigh of relief at being taken thus; she had initially been afraid to become intimate with him, given his own admission of a predilection of violence towards human women and unconsciously tensed her body, anticipating pain, but there was none.

Instead, a pleasant sensation of being filled, her vagina expanding to accommodate his girth and length, spread through her. It was good being with a man again; and while Smith was not Danny, the man she had loved, being touched in this most intimate way filled a void that had been created by his death and the physical act she was sharing with Smith made her feel completed. Feeling the warm, smooth skin of a man under her fingers and the sensation of his hands caressing her in return greatly aroused her and she gave herself over to the feelings.

lllll

“Are you all right, Seraph?” the Oracle asked gently. She had noticed Seraph’s distraction and as she came closer to him, she saw that his cheeks were flushed and there was a fine line of perspiration glistening on his upper lip.

He turned his head away quickly so she could not see the pain in his eyes. He knew very well what Sarah was doing and with whom; he and Sarah shared a co-existent bond that sometimes allowed them to feel and sense the emotions and even physical sensations of the other. I am feeling what she is, he thought, and I would give almost anything right now to stop this agony, this torment from consuming me. It should be me making her feel that way, not Smith! I am embarrassed and ashamed that I can feel what she does—the woman I always thought of as my sister, even though she is not. I hate the very idea of it, but she is with him right now, having very pleasurable sex probably in front of that fireplace, and there is not one damn thing that I can do about it.

He lowered his head and blinked away the tears.

He grasped at the Oracle’s hand when he felt it touch his shoulder in a silent gesture and confirmation that she would always be there for him.

“Don’t be upset, Seraph. Things will work out for the best, you’ll see. Sometimes you have to endure the worst feelings of loving someone before you can experience the joy. Trust me, son, and believe. You will see for yourself.”

Seraph nodded dumbly and squeezed his mother’s hand.

lllll

For his part, once Smith had entered the woman beneath him, he scarcely knew who it was. To him, time had turned backwards and it was Bronwyn he was with, not Sarah; the only difference being that, as he had surmised, Sarah’s much longer legs wrapped themselves around his waist in a way that Bronwyn’s never could.

The combination of full-blown sexual excitement and alcohol rushed through his system when he began thrust slowly inside of her, rousing and awakening feelings he had thought were long gone and deeply buried in his subconscious. Through a haze of vague recollections, he heard Sarah’s murmured, half-articulate sounds of rapidly rising level of desire and a memory from a lifetime ago, or so it seemed, flashed through his mind: a desire to please Bronwyn, to selflessly put off his own satisfaction so that she could be gratified first.

However, his own desire overrode his thoughts and the only thing on his mind was to continue thrusting inside of her. His climax was close, very close, and obeying an instinct older than time, he picked up his tempo and plunged into her deeper and harder.

Sarah knew through her experience of intercourse and men in general, that he was going to come soon, and without the slightest hesitation, she knew that if she wanted to have an orgasm as well she would have to take it for herself and soon. She rose to meet his thrusts wildly as he continued to penetrate her, his passion building upwards to inevitable release.

It’s always been you, there was never anyone else for me,” he murmured unthinkingly and unknowingly, his lips against her ear. “You are the only woman I ever wanted.”

Sarah’s nipples tingled when she heard him speak. That Voice. That deep, sultry, sensuous voice of Smith’s that gave her goose bumps and sent shivers down her spine almost every time he spoke to her; that indefinable sense of power and strength that radiated from him like an aura, rippled over her very skin and her orgasm flared and expanded to her very fingertips, causing her to scream out in pleasure. Of all the programs he could have had, he chose me to be with him, Sarah exulted to herself. He chose me to love him, to share his body and mind with.

It wasn’t so much that he was such a skilful lover that made her come so quickly, it was more the fact that it was him, Smith, one of the most dangerous and ruthless programs ever to trod upon the simulated surface of the Matrix, that was with her. Smith did not know it, but what he had thought a long time ago on a lonely park bench in the cold, driving rain had come true: power was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

That’s my girl, Bronwyn, Smith thought to himself with satisfaction as he felt Sarah’s body continue to shudder and shake beneath him. “That’s it, let yourself feel this; don’t hold back. Let me show you how I can please you as no other man could,” he whispered, although he never knew he had spoken his innermost thoughts aloud.

The contractions of her vaginal walls brought Smith to his climax and he cried out the name of the woman who was never far from his thoughts, even though she had ceased to live, had ceased to exist except in the files of his memory.