A Chamber of Delights (19 page)

He pushed his foot down on her breast and nipped the nipple between his toes.

She gasped as he pulled at it but kept her mouth shut tightly.

‘Say it.’ He tugged again. ‘Then perhaps I’ll untie you.’

She took a deep breath. She needed to be freed. Then she could lie back in the hay and let him have her properly. She couldn’t stand the tension any longer. As he looked down between her legs, her vulval lips were trembling.

‘All right. I’m sorry I made you think . . .’

‘To think what?’

‘To think I wanted you to . . .’

‘Wanted me to what?’

‘To fuck me, you pig. To fuck me. Now, let me down or I’ll scream for help.’

He knelt and kissed up and down her legs ending with
his lips on her pubis. Then he let her down, unlooped the reins and massaged her ankles gently.

She propped herself up on her elbows and scowled at him.

He smiled. ‘Do you want me to fuck you now?’

She said nothing but pulled her legs back and gave him a coy little look which she immediately regretted.

He pushed her legs back hard, stretching her widely. He knelt forward and put the head of his cock to her opening. She felt its heat and lay back waiting for his thrust. She needed it after all his titillation. She couldn’t wait another moment more.

Then he let her go.

Looking at his watch, he shook his head. ‘Sorry, miss. You’ll have to wait. I’ve got a darts match at the Red Lion tonight and I need to practise.’

THREE DAYS PASSED
painfully for Gael. She fumed to herself about letting Flanders best her again, leaving her unfulfilled. Melindi’s assignment in Paris had been postponed and so she had stayed. But, much to Gael’s hurt, the supermodel almost ignored her. She seemed to be preoccupied with Sophie. Whenever they met Gael together there seemed to be some kind of conspiracy between them. Sophie no longer took orders from Gael. Whenever she asked the housemaid to do even the simplest thing, the girl simply pouted. Gael didn’t ask what was going on between them. She would not let them know that she was hurt.

Flanders was no better. After their conflict of wills in the hay-loft, he kept well out of her way. Gael had seen him talking to Melindi in the stable yard one morning and he seemed to be quite animated. He seemed not to be able to take his eyes off the beautiful woman.

For the first time since she had met Melindi Mocambo, Gael felt angry with her. She felt jealous. But one good thing came out of Melindi’s presence. She made up the numbers Gael needed for the six-woman tea party one of her confessants had asked for. Gael had had quite a hard time finding enough people to play the game of fulfilling that particular fantasy.

Now it was time for him to arrive. Fiona from the
shower party, Boo Fannshawe, Melindi and Sophie all sat around a coffee table in the sitting-room, chatting animatedly. A girl called Anastasia made up the five, with Gael to join them as soon as the man arrived. They were all dressed sexily, some in skirts, some in jeans or ski pants, and blouses which showed their breasts. Melindi looked stunning as usual in jeans and a blouse of shimmering pink. Gael could see that she was naked beneath it, the satiny texture of her skin, the deep cleavage of her breasts, that wonderfully undulating belly only the flick of a few buttons away from a lover’s touch.

Sophie looked quite nervous. Gael wondered if she should have included her. Was she still hankering after Flanders? Had she got a crush on Melindi?

The other four looked refined, elegant and animated. Each one seemed supremely confident in her sexuality.

‘All right, ladies. Pay attention.’ Gael clapped her hands to stop the chatter. They all looked up.

Anastasia, a stunning young brunette who had been at the first party, raised her Minton tea cup and sipped, crooking her little finger exaggeratedly.

Gael was stern. This was serious business, even though she didn’t want them to take it too seriously. ‘OK. Remember, you must ignore him. Whatever he does with any one of you, the others carry on as if nothing at all was happening. I’m sure you’ll all get your kicks in turn, so don’t be too eager.’

‘Can’t we play with him?’ Fiona piped up, her black eyes wide with excitement.

‘Only if he wants you to respond that way, Fi. Remember, it’s his fantasy, not yours.’

But what do we get – apart from the prospect of a good rogering?’ Anastasia asked, sucking provocatively on a long chocolate éclair.

‘You get your own fantasies fulfilled in due course. That was the deal when you agreed to come and help him out.’

Fiona grinned. ‘I haven’t told you my dream yet.’

Gael fixed her gaze and held it, pleasant warmth coursing to her labia. Just talking about other women’s fantasies turned her on. Arranging and executing them made the whole of her body tingle.

‘I’m sure I can satisfy your need, whatever that might be, Fiona.’

Fiona licked a chocolate finger and smirked. ‘I’ve always wanted three horny men at once, one in each hole and one in my mouth, pumping me full of their hot, hard flesh.’

Gael kept her eyes on Fiona’s eyes and said softly, ‘I’m sure that won’t be a problem, Fi. We’ll talk about timing later.’ She started racking her brains to think of three horny men who might like to have Fiona all at once.

‘Don’t forget mine,’ Anastasia crooned in a deep, almost masculine voice. ‘I’m going in the Maiden.’

‘What’s the Maiden?’ Fiona piped up.

The brunette smiled sideways at Melindi before she focused on Fiona’s wide eyes and tapped the side of her nose with her finger. ‘The Maiden is a fiendish device of Melindi’s to drive a woman absolutely wild, darling. I just can’t wait to try it.’ Her hair bobbed about her shoulders as she threw her head back excitedly.

‘Your wish is easy to fulfil, Anastasia,’ Gael said, looking at her watch. ‘The Maiden is ready and waiting. Just say when you want to use her.’

Anastasia threw her hair again. ‘I’ll have to be in the mood. Wait until I’m really horny. Perhaps I will be when your friend has done his stuff on me this afternoon.’

‘You’ll soon be horny the moment you enter the Maiden, darling,’ Melindi whispered in her sexiest voice. ‘Why don’t you let me take you down to the chamber later?’

Anastasia’s eyes brightened. Then she fluttered her eyelids as she sipped her tea again.

The doorbell rang at last.

As Gael swung the great oak door back, her eyes met a tall, dark, thirty-something man, silhouetted against bright sunlight. She hadn’t been able to put a face to him when she had taken his confession in the chapel. Now she recalled him arriving for the party with a rather brassy young woman on his arm. Arriving in his Aston Martin, she certainly hadn’t been in his class. Gael had had the impression that she might even have been a hired escort.

She pushed the thoughts aside and held out her hand.

‘Hilton Markwell,’ he said, taking her hand warmly.

‘Hello, Hilton. It’s nice to see you again.’

‘Thanks.’ He looked at his shoes. ‘Thanks – I . . .’

Seeing that he was nervous, she towed him in and closed the door.

He pulled his hand away from hers. ‘I nearly didn’t come.’

‘But you’re here now.’

He fumbled with something in the pocket of his slacks.

She led him through to the salon off the foyer and closed the door. ‘So – now that you are here, tell me what happens first in your recurring dream?’

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘I’m starkers when the dream starts. My prick is as big as a barber’s pole and I rush into a room where six attractive young women are sitting having tea.’

She looked down at his crotch, to see how aroused he might be. There was nothing showing there that she could see.

‘But – in your dream – how do you get naked and horny?’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I just am. And I want to screw like mad. But the old man who appears in white robes says I’ve got to have them all before I’ll come.’

Gael pushed her hair back thoughtfully. ‘OK. Let’s
do it like that and see what happens. Now – I must get back to my guests. I’ve got five women friends having tea and cakes.’ She smirked and turned to go, but he grabbed her arm.

‘Will you strip me first?’

‘Is that part of the dream?’

‘No.’

She put her hand on his. ‘Don’t you think we should stick to the dream?’

‘We can’t stick to it exactly. There’s no old man telling me I must shag them all before I’ll come.’

She sighed. ‘All right. Can’t you pretend he’s already said his piece?’

Markwell’s face brightened. ‘Brilliant. But remember – in the dream, the last woman runs out just as I’m going to shag her.’

‘And what do you do?’

‘I run after her. But . . .’

‘But what?’

‘But the dream usually ends just as I’m chasing her up some stairs.’

‘Does it always end like that?’

‘Usually. But I did catch her once. She fought like hell and I had to drag her to a bedroom.’

‘And what did you have to do then?’

‘I pinned her to the floor with one hand and ripped her clothes off with the other. And then the dream ended. That’s why I’m here. I need to end the dream.’

She kissed his cheek. ‘OK. Let’s end the dream.’

He held her shoulders as she tried to withdraw. ‘But will you strip me, anyway? I don’t think I can get it up on my own.’

Her hands trembled as she parted the buttons of his pristine shirt. He had nothing underneath it and his sun-browned skin felt silky to her touch. His belly tightened as she slipped the shirt off and ran her hand down it. Then she went behind him, slid her fingers over
his back and traced the bulging muscles of his shoulders. He certainly would have the strength to hold a woman down while he stripped her.

She knelt and ran her hands down the outsides of his thighs. He set his legs apart. She slid a hand between them, turned it and cupped his crotch. He stirred as he felt the heat.

Now she slipped her hands up over his hips and undid his belt. Then she circled around him, kissed each nipple in turn and slipped his trouser zip slowly down.

He closed his eyes and put his head back, his large hands on his hips as she bared them.

The trousers fell away easily. He kicked them and his shoes and socks off. Now he stood only in a pair of posing briefs. She trembled more as she ran her fingertips over the twin-lobed bulge contained tightly within the pouch. He was magnificent and she wanted him already.

She knelt before him. She put her lips to his bulge and kissed. The warmth of his penis came to her lips immediately. She felt it stir. She kissed again – and again. Each time she put her lips to it it grew up more. Then with trembling fingers she pulled the briefs away.

The head of a half-hard penis rose from inside the elastic. She kissed it, revelling in the sensuality of the smoothness of the glans against her lips.

She breathed his scent, strong and musky as it flooded her nostrils. Her tongue-tip came out and ran through the groove of the glans. It swelled and erupted quickly. Now she pulled the pouch slowly down, baring his balls. They swung loosely, the hairless sac taut and unwrinkled. She loved a man with a smooth and hairless scrotum. It was so sensuous to lick.

His penis reared above her.

She made him step out of the briefs. Now she had him completely naked, his belly shaking as she ran her tongue up the inside of his leg untill it touched his sac.

He widened his stance and pushed his pelvis out to make his cock go rigid. When she licked it from the scrotum to the web, he shuddered.

‘I want to screw you,’ he whispered as he pulled her head into his crotch, making her put her mouth to his sac.

She looked up over his taut belly and into his eyes. The shyness had gone. There was a glint there now. This was the man from the dream, not the shy one who’d just arrived.

She licked his glans again. ‘That’s not in the dream, is it?’

He grinned wickedly. ‘I don’t know what happens before I go into the room with the six women. For all I know, I might screw one of you first.’

Gael sat back on her haunches. ‘I think we’d better stick to the plot, don’t you? Let’s take it from where you go into the room stark naked with this rearing between your legs.’ She put her mouth over the head of his penis and sucked on it slowly. It always felt so good to suck a man that way. It gave her a sense of power when they stood and let her do it. There was no contest. No rivalry. They were getting what they wanted most – a hot and mobile mouth to spurt into. Some said it was better than the feel of woman’s vulva. More responsive. More tantalising. Sometimes they said it was so satisfying as the woman sucked him in. When he spurted and she milked him with the suction of her mouth, he’d usually beat for several minutes, moaning as he lay there.

Gael stopped herself fantasising and tickled the web of the cock with the tip of her tongue.

Between her legs, she could feel her moistness. The kimono she’d chosen was loose and she wore the flimsiest of panties. It would be so easy to lay back on the rug, pull aside the gown and have him rip her knickers off.

She resisted the temptation and rose.

‘I’m going in.’ She kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘It’s your show now, Hilton Markwell. Enjoy it. I hope it ends like you want it to.’

Before he could grab her again, Gael slipped out. But she was only halfway down the corridor when he came after her, his penis wagging as he ran. He’d been transformed, his eyes alight, his mouth set in a determined grin.

She slipped into the sitting-room and closed the door quickly. The other women looked up with surprise. ‘There’s a horny man coming down the passage,’ she panted. ‘He tried to grab me but I managed to escape. I need some tea.’

Gael had just sat down on the Chesterfield next to Anastasia when the door was flung violently open. The man stood naked, his phallus huge, his testes swinging to his laboured breathing.

They all looked away and continued their chat. Sophie poured tea. As she handed a cup to Gael, it rattled in the saucer. It continued to rattle in Gael’s hand.