Read A Chamber of Delights Online

Authors: Katrina Young

A Chamber of Delights (29 page)

Mandy raised the flail and whipped his back and sides, just hard enough to make him flinch. The whipping sped his action, and made him take Gael more avidly. She cried out, ‘Yes. Ahh, Yes,’ as someone chanted, ‘Fuck her.’

Another voice joined in as well. ‘Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her.’

He took her hard, pounding at her pelvis with long and powerful motions.

Mandy whipped her as she writhed. The lashes on her shoulders and the tight flesh of her thighs made her wriggle more. Her breasts bounced to his thrusting as she heaved him on her hips.

Lithe hands slipped around her waist. Long fingers pulled at her nipples. They took her breasts and made them rise and fall.

Fingers scored her belly from her navel to her breasts. She moaned and pushed up harder, opening her vulva to the man. But he withdrew his penis from her purse. He knelt between Gael’s legs working at his foreskin with short, fast strokes as he watched her vulva spasm. Then someone knelt behind him, circling his shaft with long, seductive fingers which pushed into his scrotum. His penis swelled, the glans growing ever larger. Gael rubbed her vulva as he watched, desperately trying to bring herself off. The she let out a cry of disappointment as a jet of semen shot into the air, followed by a second and a third. They landed on her vulva and trickled through her furrow.

The fingers around his shaft worked slowly as he beat.

Other hands spread semen over Gael’s tingling vulva lips, rosy from his rubbing, shining with his milt.

Gael had lost all track of who was supposed to be doing what to whom, her mind in a daze. She needed urgently to come and yet the man was spent.

That night Gael lay in a deep, hot bath. She spread the soap suds up and down her belly as she thought about the scene. It had been completely wild – much wilder than she’d planned. The way she’d fought to gain possession of Jeaves’ cock had been totally irrational. But the last of the fantasies from the first party had been fulfilled. The diary was full for the next two months. Organising two major parties would take a lot of time. A few more fantasies would use up any slack.

Despite the relaxation of the bath, Gael’s urge to sate her own need was torturing her. If only Flanders were less cocky and more loving, she would have a ready-made solution to her needs. But it was his potency and bravado which drove her senses wild as soon as she even glimpsed him. He only had to touch her to make her body tremble. She would hardly have to look between his legs before her nub would start to tingle. Her sexual lips would pulse. They would become so sensitive that she could feel them every time she turned and walked away from him. Fuck him. Yes – fuck him. That was really what she craved. She needed him to take her in the way that she liked best – pinned down and helpless as she wriggled. Either way would do. On her back with her legs open wide, or on her belly while he thrust between her thighs.

But he seemed to have stopped goading her since their encounters in the chamber. Now she didn’t know if he would spring on her at any moment or never try again. She had purposefully walked in the garden and the woods. But he hadn’t appeared from behind some tree to pin her to its bark and rip her knickers off. She thought that might be too unexciting for him now. If he was going to do anything, it would certainly be creative.
He would be most unlikely to come into her room, strip the duvet off her and open up her legs. He might bend her over the kitchen table as he’d taken Sophie, pulling down her panties and driving into her without a word. No, he wouldn’t do that either. It had been done. He seemd to need novelty. He seemed to want danger and daring and a fight.

A fight always stoked up Gael’s passion. The fight with Celine had been that way. Now she was suffering from the consequences.

She stroked a finger idly through her labia. But even though she was as tense as hell, she wouldn’t frig herself tonight. If Flanders was going to make a move on her tomorrow or the next day, she wanted to keep her tension so that when the dam that held it in finally burst, it would flood her in such a torrent of sensation that she’d quiver for an hour. And if he didn’t come after her again, someone else would do. Sooner or later some man or woman from the parties was sure to do her in the way she loved the most.

Gael shook herself, bringing her attention back to the steamy bathroom. She had been fantasising again. Now she wished that she had someone she could tell her fantasies to and have them enacted, just as she arranged to enact the dreams for others.

She ran some more hot water and soaped her breasts. Then she closed her eyes, swishing a tide of the warm and soapy fluid up between her legs. The heat was so nice there.

As she dozed, Gael thought she heard the engine of a motorbike. She listened carefully, trying to make out where the throaty throbbing came from. It sounded as if it were in the stable yard. No – it couldn’t be. Flanders had gone home at five. She’d seen him roar off down the drive. He’d worn no crash helmet, and was dressed only in a T-shirt and his scanty shorts, his hair streaming out in the balmy breeze. She would have liked
to have been his passenger, with her arms about his waist. She might even have dropped them to his crotch and rubbed his penis while he roared down the country lanes.

She stretched her arms above her head, making her breasts hang heavily. Then she sank into the water. It felt so nice to let them bob, but it was even nicer to have them lifted by strong and passionate hands.

Gael stopped her thoughts again. Daydreaming would get her nowhere. She knew she might as well make up her mind to find another man.

She heated up the water, then dozed.

‘Wash your back, miss?’

Gael smiled. She was even imagining Flanders’ voice now. She held her breasts and touched the nipples gently.

‘I asked if you wanted your back washed, miss. Or perhaps you’d like your boobs soaped. I do it very well.’

She turned abruptly to see Todd Flanders standing by the bath.

22
Ridden Hard and Fast

HE TOWERED OVER
Gael. As she sat up sharply, her face came level with his penis. It was long though limp, but she was sure it wouldn’t take more than a touch of her fingertip or a few well-chosen words to make it stiffen.

‘Get out,’ she whispered hoarsely, covering her breasts with her hands. ‘How dare you come in here when I’m . . .’ She stopped as he knelt beside the bathtub.

Trailing a finger through the suds, he drove warm water up between her legs, making waves against her crotch. ‘I’ve come for you,’ he whispered. ‘Are you going to let me dry you? Or are you going to make me drag you wet and screaming to the bed?’ He kissed her shoulder lightly and ran his finger up her belly to her breast, toying with the dripping nipple.

She didn’t pull away from him. This time she wouldn’t fight. She was tired of squabbling with the man. Apart from that, she wanted him too much. His manner was softer than of late, his eyes lit with passion.

‘I think you ought to go,’ she said softly, folding her arms about her breasts.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think you really want me to go.’

‘How do you know what I want?’

He smirked. ‘I can read you, miss. All the signs say, I want you, but I’m too proud to admit it.’

‘And what makes you such an expert on human behaviour all of a sudden?’

He smiled widely now. ‘I have a master’s degree in psychology and I’m doing my doctorate thesis right now. Do you think I simply sit at home at night, pulling at my prick as I think about you lying naked on your bed with your finger here?’ He ran his finger between her legs, spreading her labia.

Gael was surprised – not at the way he touched her, but about his academic prowess. She stared at him closely, trying to discern if he were playing games with her again. But she couldn’t detect any hint that he was lying.

She half closed her eyes. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He shrugged. ‘Believe what you like. Did you really think I was just a country bumpkin content to tug my forelock to a virago like you?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She sniffed haughtily and threw her wet hair back.

‘I think you do.’

She bristled just enough to let him know she wasn’t pleased. He thought she was a shrew – bad-tempered, at best, a masculine, controlling type of woman at the worst. What should she do? Be bad-tempered or put on her female charm?

‘I am not a virago.’

‘Have it your own way.’

‘I shall.’

Now he grinned widely. ‘And which way do you want it? Tied to a tree like Sophie, while I lick between your legs? Over the kitchen table with your knickers round your ankles? Or trussed up on your hands and knees while I fuck you from behind?’

She slitted her eyes tighter. ‘You know damned well that I didn’t mean that.’ Then she realised that her protest hadn’t made things better. She couldn’t help a smile escaping on her lips.

He picked that up and whispered, ‘So what way do you really want it?’ Now his cock had risen. He stroked it.

She closed her eyes. He was too close and she was too vulnerable. She could have reached over the rim of the bath and taken his penis between her fingers to make it fully hard in seconds. Why didn’t she? Because, she rationalised, that would be too provocative.

The initiative was removed from her as he pulled the bath plug.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to dry you. You’re getting goose bumps.’

‘What business is that of yours?’

‘I’m making it my business, miss. I don’t like my women cold. I like them warm and soft and very compliant.’

‘I thought you liked a fight with a woman.’

He grinned. ‘I like them to be compliant after I’ve won the battle to strip them naked.’

‘You’re just a chauvinist.’

‘Perhaps I am. But at least I know what I want.’

She looked into his eyes as he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t fight – the fighting was over and he’d won. And he had her naked, even though he hadn’t stripped her himself. But she wouldn’t be as compliant as he wanted her to be. She still had a little bit of pride left.

‘And what is it that you want, Mr Flanders?’

As he enveloped her in a large, hot towel, she held his gaze with hers.

‘You know I want to fuck you, miss,’ he whispered as he rubbed her belly with the towel.

She sighed and raised her eyes to show that she was bored with crass remarks like that.

He grinned again. ‘But I want to fuck you in a way you’ve never been fucked before, and probably never will be again.’

Now she knew that she’d been right about him being
devious. She had guessed that if he did make another move on her, he would have something quite extraordinary in mind. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. The games he’d played with her had stopped just short of pain. Now he was being so provocative that it set her skin tingling. She loved the way he rubbed her through the towel. He had her breasts now, making the softness of the towel brush gently at her nipples. Whatever the devil planned to do with her she would find it difficult to protest.

He dried her face, patting her cheekbones gently, his warm breath flirting with her mouth. And when he bent and kissed her, she closed her eyes and almost swooned. But he withdrew his lips and passed the towel between her legs, sawing it through the valley of her bottom, chafing at her anus. She loved to feel his touch there. She wanted him to kiss her ring, to lick it then to touch it with the firm tip of his cock. She wanted to feel his penis nudge her and then push gently in. She wanted to feel filled by it while his fingers worked between her legs and brought her to fulfilment.

Gael snapped her thoughts back to the scene and widened her stance to give him better access to her sex.

Perversely he stopped drying her there. He seemed to love keeping her on the edge of coming. What did she have to do to make him take her as she wanted? Should she kneel and take his penis in her mouth? Should she lick his balls, or make him lie back on the bed while she rubbed herself over his cock? No – that would be too ordinary, no matter how much she wanted it.

He went to the bathroom cabinet, seeming to be searching for something. When he turned with a smirk on his face, he was holding a knobbly condom. He thrust his cock at her and rolled the condom on, watching her watching it as he pulled it tight.

Without a word he took her in a fireman’s lift.

She squealed and tried to wriggle free. ‘Let me down, Flanders.’

He slapped her bottom hard. ‘I’ll let you down when we get to where we’re going.’ At her dressing table he scooped his fingers through a jar of moisturising cream and smeared her anus and the wide-stretched purse of her sex, working the cream around the lips. He smeared the condom too before he strode out with her slung over his shoulder.

‘Where are we going, pig?’

‘I’m taking you on a journey of delight, my sweet.’

She slapped at his back. ‘I’m not going down to the chamber with you.’ It was a useless protest as he started down the stairs, each step jolting her, making her breasts jar against his back.

‘We’re not going to the chamber, my sweet. Our destination’s much more exciting than anything down there.’ He laughed theatrically, his chest pumping against her mount.

Balmy night air fanned her bottom as he strode into the stable yard. The cream around her vulva felt quite cool.

He swung her down and sat her across the saddle then climbed behind her quickly, before she could escape. As he bent her forward, he made her grip the steering bars, her breasts hanging heavily over the warm tank.

She felt the heat of his penis hard between her buttocks. It slipped through the cream and nudged her anal ring. Then it entered her so smoothly, it didn’t hurt at all. As it slid in she whispered, ‘You’re a bastard, Flanders. I hate you.’

‘But do you hate this, my pet?’ He drove his shaft up tight into her bottom. It made her gasp. Now she was half sitting on him, half on the seat. His penis impaled her, while her nubbin rubbed the saddle leather.

He turned on the engine. Now she heard that motorcycle engine once again, throbbing in the still, night air. Her heartbeat raced and her body thrilled with sheer anticipation. The vibrations, transmitted by the
hardness of his cock, shot up into her deepest core and made her belly throb.

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