Carla called in midafternoon. “You ready?” she said.
“I have never been readier,” Tiffy answered. “Just five more hours.”
“Rick asked me to call you. They got there safely. They’ve spoken with the Chandlers, who still want to buy.”
“Did they agree to the price?” Tiffy asked.
“Yep, and without even blinking. But I’ll give Bill Chandler points for honesty. He asked the guys if they knew how much the Baird property went for in July and reminded them, as if two attorneys would forget such a thing, that the Bairds’ Place had less property and lakefront,” Carla said. “Rick said yes, they knew, but that the Bairds’ house had been recently updated, and Quintet Corp. was content to take two fifty for Camp Cozy. They’ll sign the papers in the morning, and Chandler will give them a check for fifty thousand to be put in an escrow account. They’ve agreed on a closing date as well. It’s the Tuesday after the Columbus Day weekend.”
“So it’s all worked out,” Tiffy said, almost wistfully.
“You aren’t sorry we’re selling, are you?”
“Nah. It was time,” Tiffy replied. “Well, I’d better go. I’ll call Joe about six so he won’t call me when I’m not available to answer the phone.”
“Call me in the morning,” Carla responded. “I’ll want a full report before the guys get back, and I’ll expect every down-and-dirty detail, sweetie.”
“I won’t leave out a thing,” Tiffany promised as she rang off.
Four hours, fifty minutes to go. She ate a light meal, then took a long, luxurious bath, using a new bath oil that called Night Blooming Lily she had seen at the mall. Then she called her husband. “Hi, honey,” Tiffy said. “Carla said we’ve got a deal.”
“Yeah,” Joe replied. “We got a deal. The Chandlers are taking us to dinner to celebrate. They say there’s a new restaurant halfway around the lake that’s so hot you need reservations. Imagine that! Reservations up here. We’re going at seven. I’m glad you called, but I was going to call you later and tell you all about it.”
“Save it for when you get home,” Tiffy said. “I’m taking this opportunity to watch the five DVDs of the Angelique novels. I’m turning off the phone because I don’t want to be disturbed. They say that Michele Mercier and Robert Hossein are perfect as Angelique and the Comte de Peyrac. English subtitles, but who cares? I know the stories, having read the books.”
“At least a hundred times,” he teased her. “I’m glad you won’t be lonely.”
“Thanks for understanding, Joe. I don’t often get a chance like this,” she replied.
“I’ll call you before we leave in the morning,” he promised.
“Have a terrific dinner. I’ll want all the details,” Tiffy said. “Maybe we can all go there in October when we make our last visit to Camp Cozy.”
“Let’s hope the place lives up to its promise,” Joe responded. “Have a good evening, Tiffy. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. Good night.”
“Good night, honey,” Tiffy said and put the house phone back in its cradle. She sighed. If only Joe would be more like Rick was these days, she wouldn’t need the Channel at all. Well, maybe now and again, but not so much. Carla had gotten Rick to stop and smell the flowers. If only Joe would too.
The clock in the hall struck the half hour. Thirty minutes to go. Tiffy went upstairs to their bedroom. If she was going to get a full evening of sexual pleasure, she was going to have to imagine that the Caliph of Bagdad and the Great Khan had already arrived at the palace in Sherazad. And that her husband, Ahmed, the Sultan of Sherazad, was even now explaining the treat he would offer them in exchange for a fifty-year treaty of peaceful coexistence. She climbed naked into her bed, and as the clock struck eight p.m., Tiffy eagerly pressed the B button on her Channel remote.
Hestia was standing at a spy hole listening to and watching the three men as they finished their meal. The treaty had been signed before the meal. She studied the two visitors. Rashid, the Caliph of Baghdad, was a tall, slender man who favored black clothing. His face was a long one, the look severe. He had a small, thin, dark mustache just above his upper lip. He was attractive in the traditionally handsome way. Balin, the Great Khan of Samarkand, was a totally different type. Of medium height, he had a stocky build with a broad barrel chest. His round head was shaved bald. Neither was as handsome as her sultan. She was curious as to the kind of lovers they would be, and she was soon about to find out, for the three men arose from the low table where they had been seated.
“Come, my friends,” the sultan said. “We shall now go to my harem to enjoy the pleasures that my beautiful wife can offer us.”
In her Hestia persona, Tiffy slipped from her hiding place and hurried to the harem. Her three young slave women were awaiting her. “They come!” she said as she hurried in to join them. “Is all in readiness?”
“Yes, Princess,” they chorused as one.
“Remember, there is to be no shyness. You will obey the sultan and his guests without question,” she reminded them. Her heart was rapidly beating now.
“Yes, Princess,” they said again as one. They knelt about her.
The doors to the harem were opened by the eunuchs guarding her, and the sultan and his companions strode in.
Hestia, arms crossed over her chest, made her obeisance to her sultan and his two companions. Then, arising, she said, “I welcome you, my lord husband, and your honored guests. I am prepared in the name and cause of peace between our lands to serve you in any manner you wish.” She bowed to them again.
The sultan indicated to the caliph and the khan that they were to seat themselves among the colorful cushions. Each man took one of the slave girls down with him.
“How would you have me begin, my lord sultan?” Hestia asked politely.
“First you will dance for us,” the sultan said. “Then I would have you disrobe before us, Princess, and display your treasures for our eyes,” the sultan ordered his beautiful wife. He turned to his companions. “She is a most graceful dancer.”
“It shall be as you wish, my lord sultan,” Hestia said, turning her head just slightly to nod to the musicians seated discreetly in a dim corner of the chamber. At the first note played, she began her dance. The music was heavily sensuous. She danced slowly, gracefully weaving across the floor, around them, behind them, before them. The bells on her ankles tinkled as she moved. The black-and-gold silk gauze of her garments swayed, tauntingly revealing and yet concealing her fair body.
And then Hestia began to remove the scant clothing that covered her. First she removed the black gauze that had allowed but a glimpse of her long hair, which now flowed like molten gold down her back. Next she tore away the veiling that covered her chest, reaching behind herself to unhook the silk-and-sequined bra that covered her breasts. She flung the covering aside almost defiantly, stamping her feet as she did so.
She saw the sultan smile faintly and lean over to speak with the caliph and the khan. His hand was absently fondling the slave girl in his lap, even as the other two men were caressing the women in their embrace. Hestia felt a stab of jealousy. The slave girl was obviously enjoying the sultan’s attentions. I wonder if she will enjoy the whipping I shall give her later for her presumption. It was one thing for a slave to stay silent while her master touched her before his wife’s eyes, but to openly enjoy it was intolerable, and Hestia would not stand for it. As further punishment, she would give the slave girl to her husband’s soldiers for their amusement.
Now the dance was coming to an end. Slowly, slowly, Hestia discarded each of the dark silk scarfs that had made up the skirt of her dancing costume, until her only adornment was the thin gold chain lying on her hip bones to which the scarves had been attached. As the last note of the reed pipes sounded, she ripped the veiling from her face, a smile of satisfaction adorning her lips as she heard the caliph and the khan gasp with amazement at the great beauty of the Sultan of Sherazad’s wife.
After giving them a brief m
oment to gape, Hestia walked forward to step up onto the low lacquered table that was placed before them. She turned slowly so they might fully see and enjoy the perfect body she possessed. Her back to the three men, she smiled when the khan remarked she had the fine flanks of a purebred mare. Turning back to face them again, she slipped her hands beneath her round breasts, displaying them to three sets of avid eyes. Releasing one breast, she licked the center finger of her left hand, then began to rub and encircle the nipple of her right breast with it. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation. A faint murmur escaped from between her lips. After a time, she ceased, freeing her breast from her hand. Her mons was smooth, as custom demanded. Hestia took a finger and ran it up and down the shadowed slit in her labia. Then, using both of her hands, she peeled the two plump lips open to the view of her spectators.
“She has a fine love jewel,” the caliph remarked, eyeing Hestia’s clitoris.
The khan nodded, his gaze avid with his growing lust.
Smiling, she released her hold on her nether lips, bending to hold out her hands so the two men might lick her fingers. The khan did so eagerly, but the caliph first inhaled the musky fragrance of her before sucking suggestively on her slender digits. “Shall I now join you, my lord sultan?” Hestia asked the sultan.
He nodded.
“Let me send the others away,” she said, and at his nod of approval she dismissed the slave girls and the musicians. The chamber now contained but four people. Hestia stepped down from the low table and settled herself between the khan and the caliph. “I am so pleased that you have signed our treaty, my lords,” she said to them. “We must celebrate your wisdom on the altar of the goddess of love.”
The caliph put a hand on her shoulder. He caressed it, moving to her throat, and then down to a breast. “I should not disappoint so fair a sultana,” he told her.
“You are kind, my lord caliph,” she said. Oh, this guy was smooth and sophisticated, unlike the khan, who was squeezing her other breast as if he were trying to get juice out of it. She turned to him. “Gently, my lord khan,” she murmured. “My skin is delicate and fragile. You will bruise me, I fear.” To her surprise, Balin Khan flushed.
“I apologize, Star of Cinnabar,” he said. “You have aroused my lust as no female ever has. I want but to enjoy your beauty and fuck you into oblivion this night.”
“In time, my lord khan,” Hestia promised. Then, reaching over, she placed her warm hand upon his crotch, squeezing gently. “I can see you are already preparing yourself for me.” The tip of her tongue slipped from between her lips to touch her top lip. “We will give each other much pleasure,” she promised him. Then Hestia smiled into his rough face, interested to see that his small dark eyes held a full measure of intelligence.
He took the hand with which she had fondled him, and, raising it up to his lips, kissed the palm. “My weapon is large, and you are small,” he noted.
“My cunt is expansive and will devour you, great khan,” she promised him.
He nodded, satisfied, as the caliph drew her into his sole embrace, whispering into her ear, “It is your beautiful ass I would plunder, my princess, if you would permit me.”
“I am yours at my husband’s command to do with as you will,” Hestia said. Ohh, Tiffy thought. I never got assfucked before, but I can stop it if I don’t like it. It is my fantasy. She raised her head up to receive the caliph’s kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, caressing hers, sucking on it. She felt his hand fondling her bottom eagerly and pulled her head away from his. “I think, my lords, you should dispense with your garments if we are to begin,” Hestia advised.
Agreeing, the three men rose and put aside their robes so that they were all now naked. She looked to her husband, who sent her a smile of his approval. Hestia let her eyes wander over the male bodies. Ahmed’s was, of course, the finest to her eye. Balin Khan had arms and legs like tree trunks and a smooth broad chest, but despite his size, he had no fleshy belly. His cock, however, was a marvel. It was indeed bigger than any she had seen before. The caliph, on the other hand, was slender but well muscled. His cock was long and thin. She had never seen one quite like it.
The caliph reached for her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her once again. Then he said, “I like to spank my women before fucking them. It primes them for my entry. Get on your hands and knees now so we may begin.” When she had obeyed his command, he positioned her to suit his purposes and then put a hand on her nape. What is it with these guys and necks? Tiffy wondered. Then his palm descended on her plump bottom.
“Oh!” she squealed. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” She punctuated each spank with a cry.
Finally he slid his hand beneath her to ascertain if her juices had begun, and satisfied she was ready, he knelt behind her as her buttocks were drawn open by the khan and Hestia’s husband, the sultan.
She felt something touch her anal opening and flinched.
“Easy, my beauty,” he said. “I will go gently,” he promised her as he moistened her with her own juices.
Pressure, and then the sphincter muscle gave way. “Ohhh!” she gasped.
“ ’Tis just the head of my cock,” he told her. “There is more to come.” He pushed himself further into her narrow back channel. “My cock is thin, and made for this activity,” the caliph assured her. Then, inch by inch, he pushed himself into her until he was well sheathed. “There now, my beauty, you are fully corked,” he said.
She felt him quite distinctly. The long, thin penis throbbed within her. To her surprise she felt her clit throbbing too. And then her head was yanked up and a penis was pushed into her mouth. The taste was not familiar, and so she decided it was Balin Khan. Hestia began to suck on him. She hoped he wouldn’t come in her mouth, because she was really eager to have him fuck her with that big dick of his. Little chicks love big dicks, Tiffy thought wickedly as she sucked the penis in her mouth, even as the caliph’s member pulsed within her.
“We must take her together this first time,” Tiffy heard the sultan say, and the other two men grunted in agreement. The khan removed himself from between Hestia’s lips. He lay on his back amid the colorful pillows, the great penis sticking straight up. Still buried within her ass, the caliph carefully drew Hestia to enough of an upright position so she could be moved. Oh! My! God! They were both going to fuck her at the same time. She immediately aided their efforts as the three men carefully positioned her over and then pressed her down onto Balin Khan’s massive cock.
Her eyes widened as she felt herself absorbing the khan’s penis. To her amazement he was incredibly gentle as he filled her. Now she balanced on her hands as one man took her ass and the other her cunt. When her husband pushed past her lips with his own penis, the sensation was incredible. Then, as if there had been a signal, all three men began to move within her body’s cavities. The caliph and the khan seemed to find a perfect rhythm for their members as they pumped her. Tiffy’s head was spinning with the overwhelming sexual sensations buffeting her. Can I die from this? she wondered, but then she realized she didn’t care. Her sucking matched the cadence of the two other men. She began to climax, but they weren’t finished with her. They aroused her once again and she enjoyed a second round.
Then she heard the sultan say, “I think, my lords, it is time to release our mutual lust. Are you ready, Hestia, to receive our tribute?”
“Only if you promise to give me more later, my lords!” she gasped. She didn’t know what was coming over her but she absolutely didn’t want to stop. The cock in her ass, the one in her cunt, the third in her mouth felt wonderful, and like nothing she had ever experienced before. She wanted more. And more. And more.
“I promise,” the sultan said.
“And I too,” the caliph added.
“I could fuck you all night, my beauty,” the khan admitted.
“Then let us come together, my lords,” Hestia told them, and they did. Their juices flowed copiously as they spermed her, their penises jerking as they released th
eir tribute to her. Finally they all collapsed in a heap, lying amid the pillows and gasping for breath with the ferocity of their exertions.
At last Hestia suggested that they go to her bath and wash away the excesses of the last hour. When they returned, they found the pillows had been replaced with fresh ones, and there were wine and sugar wafers for them. Hestia poured them each a goblet of pale golden liquid, knowing it was heavily laced with aphrodisiacs so that her lovers could keep up the same pace the entire night. It wasn’t long before the four were entwined again in another lustful bout. It was her husband’s turn to have her cunt. The khan and the caliph watched avidly as the sultan brought his wife to a screaming climax. So aroused were the two men that they wasted no time in each mounting her in turn after the sultan had rolled away from her. So it went on throughout the night, and to her great surprise, Tiffy never tired. Indeed, she could not seem to get enough of the three men. Suddenly this was a fantasy she wanted to have forever. It wasn’t going to matter anymore if Joe was too tired to have sex with her. What had ever made her think that just having a regular sex life with Joe again would be enough? With a fantasy like this, who cared?
Her breasts were sore from being sucked and nipped. She had allowed the caliph to ass-fuck her three times. His thin cock was indeed perfect for it. Balin Khan was a vigorous lover, and he loved sucking on her clit. Never, he declared, had he seen such a perfect one, or one of such a size. His tongue on that delicate bit of flesh had her shrieking a half dozen times. But then too soon, too soon the syrupy voiced called out that the Channel had closed, and Tiffany found herself back in her own bed.
Carla had the decency to wait until eleven a.m. to call her. “So,” she said, “how did it go? Was it everything you hoped it would be?”
“More!” Tiffy said. “There isn’t a part of me that wasn’t licked, sucked, and fucked. I want more! I can’t live without that fantasy. When I think of all the years I wasted on that dull old sultan-and-the-slave-girl routine. This was incredible. Three men. Three different penises, and each one perfect. The caliph had a long, thin dick, and he loves to ass-fuck. Not my favorite thing, but he’s gentle and surprisingly nice. The khan is this big bald-headed guy with a cock that has to be ten inches at least. But he knows just how to use it. And then there’s my sultan, who fucks like a dream. I’ve got to figure a way to keep Joe asleep so I can play in the Channel, Carla. Maybe I’ll get Dr. Sam to check him out. If it’s nothing serious, then maybe he can give him sleeping pills.”
Guilty Pleasures Page 23
