Both women had their fingers between their legs, stroking and petting their shaved mounds.
When Zion let the ginger-haired woman go, she gasped for air but grinned.
“Like that?” he asked.
“You know I do, Master. I love everything you do to me,” was the woman’s sultry reply
The other female was quick to beg, “Use me too, Master. Please! I need your beautiful cock in my mouth.”
And so, she was next to be subjugated by his dirty treatment, clearly to her pleasure. And so it went--the women taking turns getting their face holes rammed by the virile man.
The only reason they paused was to feast on each other's titties when he ordered them to. The dark-haired woman pulling back to suck on the other's breasts hers were palmed and pinched in return.
It was not, however, the actions of the girls that held Beatrice's attention.
Rather it was Zion, stroking the large pole between his legs--hand moving up and down in mesmerizing motions.
His hips moved with his hand and she felt each stroke deep between her legs, which she found were trembling. Her breasts ached, particularly her nipples, and her skin felt fevered but neither feeling compared to the ache and heat that was increasing there.
Someone moaned and she registered, distantly, that the sound had come from her.
Zion answered the sound with a groan deep in his throat and she moved her eyes up to his.
They glowed hotly and knowingly. There was smugness in them. And desire…
“Want to join, little girl?” was his taunt.
She was finally able to break free of whatever spell had kept her rooted.
“I hate you,” she hissed before she dashed away, running up the stairs and into the house.
His laughter followed her.
It occurred to her that she’d left the groceries outside, but that was not enough to stop her beeline to the bedroom.
She locked the door for the second time in as many days.
Sitting on her bed, she tried to control the wild beat of her heart and her heavy breathing.
She squeezed her thighs together and squirmed where she sat, but that only increased the unending throbbing between them.
She got up to pace, restless and agitated for so many reasons.
Damn Zion!
How dare he disrupt her life like this?
She stomped her foot and cursed.
The uncharacteristic behavior was enough to jolt her out of her anger and she drew in a deep breath.
She tried to organize her thoughts and clung to the one that would help her the most.
Zion would be gone soon.
Her father said the unruly man was only staying for a few days.
She only had to hold out until then, then her life would go back to the way it was and she would be happy.
Until then, a cool shower would help her deal with the heat torturing her from both outside and in.
Chapter 4
Say it baby, don’t be shy
On the third morning of Zion’s visit, for the first time ever, Beatrice broke her usual morning routine.
Instead of rising with the sun, she lazed in bed and listened to the sounds coming from Zion's room while she touched her own body.
The wall-banging had simmered to a more mellow rhythm that made the woman sigh and moan rather than scream and shout as she had been earlier. The sounds blended into the light drizzle that pittered and pattered against the roof. The blend of melodies cocooned Beatrice in an erotic haze from which she never wished to leave.
It was way after 5 a.m. when the two called it quits and yet Beatrice made no move to leave her bed. Instead, she lay entranced, drifting in and out fantasy, coasting along the edges of desire and disdain.
The two women from the threesome Beatrice had walked in on had never left. While Beatrice had managed to avoid any more lewd sightings, she had heard plenty of sounds throughout the house to appraise her of the continued debauchery.
She’d had dinner in her bedroom, as much upset with her father that night as she was with Zion.
She had worked up the nerve to complain to him about Zion’s behavior only to have him get loud with her.
“Come on, Beatrice! You’re a big girl now. This is what grown folks do. Stop being such a stick in the mud,” was his response before she stormed off outraged and shocked.
He’d always protected her innocence, but ever since Zion had walked through their doors, he’d changed completely. At that point in time, Beatrice’s dad was as much a stranger to her as Zion was.
The fact only made her annoyance at Zion grow, something she’d thought impossible.
To make matters worse, when she’d gone back down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, she found her dad lip-locked with the brunette girl who, only two hours earlier, had those same lips wrapped around Zion’s cock.
Clad in a bikini top and the tightest of shorts, Ron’s hand covered one of the girl’s massive breasts as he massaged it.
He didn’t even act embarrassed when he spotted his daughter. Neither did the girl, of course, who just winked at Beatrice.
Ron had just given Beatrice a cocky grin and told the woman, “Emma babe, let’s take this up to my room. I don't think my daughter needs to know all the plans I have for your gorgeous body.”
Lifting a giggling Emma into his arms, he grabbed the bottle of booze he’d been nursing since he’d gotten home. The two then disappeared up the stairs.
Zion was nowhere to be found and after her father left, and Beatrice found herself feeling oddly aimless and alone.
She lingered in the kitchen for a while, eventually making her way back up to her bedroom but, of course, she couldn’t sleep.
She heard the distant creak of the mattress from Ron’s room, but she managed, mostly, to ignore the sounds because Ron was her father and ewww.
The sounds from Zion’s bedroom earlier were had been harder to ignore as he went at it with whom she assumed was the redhead. Their actions and the sounds caused a near painful ache between Beatrice’s thighs as the images bombarded her relentlessly.
The mental pictures started off as they usually did, wondering what Zion was doing to the woman to elicit such animalistic, delighted sounds... but the mental images soon morphed into Beatrice’s face replacing that of the girl Zion was banging.
Even though she knew she was heading down a dangerous road, Beatrice was helpless to stop herself. In the darkness of her bedroom with the sounds of the night blanketing her, she was just unable to muster the energy to deny her emerging desires.
Her fingers caressed her skin as she moved restlessly in her sheets and eventually stroked her mound over the cover of her wet cotton panties.
Zion had been wrong when he’d accused Beatrice of never having touched herself. Beatrice had masturbated once--after she’d watched that porn clip at Shanna’s house--but she was interrupted before she could cum, and the experience had left her more frustrated than anything, which is why she’d never tried touching herself again.
Not until today.
She found the light touch of her fingers had her hips lifting off the bed and was suddenly fascinated about what a real orgasm would feel like.
Though inexperienced and unable to bring herself the pleasure she sought, touching herself felt a lot better than she’d remembered.
When she dozed off, it was with her fingers still between her thighs, wet with unmet need.
The sound of a door closing forced her to rise from her light slumber, and the sunlight crept in.
A look at her watch showed that 9 a.m. had come and gone.
When she finally made it downstairs, the house was vacant.
She assumed her father had gone off to work. Zion’s truck wasn’t parked in front of the house.
After a cup of coffee and some marmalade on toast, Beatrice started with a few chores but constantly found herself looking to the road that led to the house.
She had to admit that
she was looking out for him – Zion, the man who had turned her world upside down.
Annoyed with the revelation and restless from an unfulfilled need she dare not name, she decided it was time to head out for a swim in the nearby creek.
The day was another scorcher after all. In more ways than one.
Sundress and panties carefully folded upon a rock nearby, Beatrice floated on her back in the blessedly cool water of a huge tree-shaded the creek, as she watched, lazily, sunlight slithering through the leaves.
She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she’d started feeling herself up. Her touch was exploratory and unhurried, just getting a feel for what made her body hum the loudest. Eyes closed, she imagined that her hands were, in fact, a man’s hands on her body. Zion’s hands.
He touched her face softly, moving in a straight line from her forehead and down her nose, her lips and her chin. Zion’s imaginary hands continued to run in a straight line. Past her neck down to the division between her breasts.
She copied his imagined movements and cupped her breasts, gasping when her finger plucked at her nipples.
Her hips bucked when she did this, and she almost dipped under the water.
Beatrice stood up, feet touching the bottom of the creek, and hips just below the surface of the water, spreading her legs as wide as she could.
She moved one hand down her body as she continued to play with her nipple. Over her torso it went, then down her thighs. Then it touched her pussy.
The rush of sensation made her moan, but no matter how much she played with her slick flesh, she was unable to reach euphoria.
Beatrice became frustrated and hissed.
Dammit, why can’t I make myself cum?
The tiny hairs on the nape of her neck alerted her to the fact that she wasn’t alone.
The rush that ran over her told her precisely who it was before she even opened her eyes.
Like the beast she’d likened him to, Zion stood next to the thick stem of a tree, tall and mighty.
Dressed in a plain white tee and jeans, he was a sight to behold. Beatrice’s heart skipped a beat and her abdomen clenched hard.
His eyes roamed across her upper body, and strangely, she wasn’t self-conscious. She made no attempt to hide, and her nipples grew into tighter points under his gaze.
“You look fuckin’ gorgeous right now,” he said. “Make yourself cum while I watch.”
As he looked on she started stroking herself again, concentrating on the hard little bud at the apex of her young snatch.
“Tell me what you feel right now,” he commanded, voice rough.
Her tongue was heavy but she told him, “I feel hot and restless like something is moving under my skin. Every time my fingers touch my skin, I feel the touch…there.”
Beatrice was not practiced in the art of dirty talk and heat bloomed within her cheeks just thinking about the words.
“In your pussy?”
“Yes.”
“Then say it, baby. Don’t be shy.”
Hesitation and then, “I feel it in my pussy.”
“Good girl. I want to put my mouth right there. I want to drink all that sweet juice, lap it up and entice more to flow. Would you let me do that, little girl? Would you let me tonguefuck you?”
Damn, his words had the effect her own hands didn’t, and she ached so much more than before. She rubbed herself hard. Faster.
“Oh yes, Zion. Anything you want.”
“Then imagine me deep inside you and cum.”
He cupped the hard bulge between his legs as he spoke, and the image was the most powerful one she experienced yet.
“Zion!” her cry suddenly rang out in the open.
Birds fluttered. Squirrels scurried. Grasshoppers sprang.
For the first time ever, Beatrice came. It was like powerful flashes of lightning flowing through her, shocking every nerve in her body.
She shook with the force of it, trembling as she kept on rubbing until her body became too sensitive to take any more of the wicked delight.
She lost track of time, standing there, high on the thrill of her first orgasm. When she opened her eyes, Zion was still there.
Her skin heated once more. Even though she’d just cum, she was needier than ever.
His gaze was hot and full of intention. His chest rose and fell quickly as his nose flared like a wild animal on a scent trail. His cheeks were ruby and his body was stiff with restraint.
She was sure that he was just about to wade into the creek and make her one of his many conquests. She was sure he was going to her like the beast that he was and make her cry out with satisfaction like he had done to those other women.
She was entirely sure of it!
She panted at the thought of it. At the idea of him sploshing in without a stitch on and absolutely ravishing her.
Instead, he turned his back and walked off.
“Zion?” she called, but he ignored her and disappeared.
She felt cold and alone immediately.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears at the rejection.
A few hours later, Beatrice returned home, clothed and composed once more.
That composure fell when she saw Zion in his jacket and shades, putting the bag he’d arrived with into the backseat of his truck.
She ran up to him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Playtime’s over for me. Time to get back to business.”
“So you’re leaving? Just like that? You were not even going to say goodbye?”
He cocked his head and looked her up and down. With the barrier of his sunglasses between them, she had no idea what he was thinking.
“Why, Beatrice, It almost sounds like you’re going to miss me.”
His tone was mocking, and she bristled.
“But that can’t be right, can it? You hate me, remember?”
Yes, she did remember. But at that moment, she couldn’t remember why.
Without another word, he got into the vehicle and started the engine.
Watching the truck drive off, Beatrice knew she should have been glad to finally get rid of him.
Instead, she found that her heart ached and her eyes stung with something that felt suspiciously like tears for the second time that day.
Chapter 5
Elusive Satisfaction
Lying in the center of her bed on her stomach, Beatrice was entranced by what she saw on the screen.
Although it was past 11, she was still wide awake, twirling her hair around her fingers, her hungry eyes absorbing image after image.
The laptop was clunky and old, but it did the job as she scrolled through his profile, sucking in every detail the pictures and posts portrayed.
The three days Zion had spent in Beatrice’s little town were barely a blip on his radar. He’d moved far beyond it and was now back at one of the many homes he’d apparently owned.
With a woman in a tiny black dress on his arm, he attended a movie premiere.
Sandwiched between two buxom blondes in barely-there bikinis, he accompanied his billionaire friends on a yacht. Soaking up the sun at a pool party with a massive crowd of beautiful people behind him, most of whom appeared to be women, he toasted a friend’s birthday.
There were pictures of him at an exclusive club at the very top of a very tall building where only the elite were allowed entry. He popped bottles until the sun rose.
Zion's life was an endless whirlwind of good times, adventure and loose women. Lots and lots of loose women.
Beatrice could not control her feelings of envy. It had been five days since he’d left and her world had yet to return to normal. The environment that had once provided her with peace and comfort was now dreary and dull.
Her usual routine made her feel like an old maid now.
She’d gone from almost never thinking about sex to a state of constant sexual frustration. No matter how many times she made herself cum, she was always longing for something more.
Something like the euphoria Zion had shown those other women.
Beatrice had changed so much since Zion’s visit that In many ways, it was hard for her to recognize herself.
She longed to feel young and free and sexually liberated just like Zion’s women were. She longed to leave her old cocoon behind. Spread her butterfly wings and flutter into a new life.
In the first few days of his absence, she’d tried to suppress her feelings, but there was no putting a cap on them now.
She’d been so confused at the storm of emotion that left her feeling washed up. Still, she found that going back to being the clueless creature that she once was, was no longer an option.
Damn him, anyway!
She was still mad at Zion. However, her reasons were completely different now.
How dare he rouse these feelings within her only to just up and leave with barely a word?
Of all the rude things he could have done!
Where she wished him gone earlier, she now craved his presence. He’d shown her a glimpse of an exciting new world and then abruptly closed the door on her.
She slammed the laptop shut and flopped onto her back.
Her eyes caught sight of the hairbrush sitting on her bedside table, and the most taboo image flashed through her mind.
She bit her lip as she considered it, but knew she wasn’t kidding anyone, least of all herself. Her self-restraint was down in the gutter as of late.
It wasn’t long before Beatrice in her heart-decorated cotton underpants, and flimsy white t-shirt reached to her bedside table and picked up the pink-tipped detangler.
She brought the brush to her face and decided that it looked convincingly like the shape of a man’s phallus. She touched herself outside her panties, pressing the fabric into her wetness. Beatrice seemed perpetually wet since Zion had left.
She spread her thighs wide and braced herself on her elbows so she could have the perfect view between them. She rubbed her swollen clit through her panties, fascinated by the way her plump lips moved as she stroked.
Bringing the round end of the brush to her mouth, she licked it. She swirled her tongue around the tip like the women in the porn she’d recently started watching.
Trixie Provoked Page 3
