Vanity's Pleasure

by Olivia Gaines

  AT SIX AM, HER BODY was wide awake and craving his touch. This was a first for her, and she didn’t know how to handle it. He was her husband. She should be able to talk to him about her needs. But finding the right way to ask was the main problem, second only to him still sleeping. I don’t even know what my needs are; how the bleep do I ask for him to help me? The first thing she needed was to get comfortable with a very virile man in her life and in her bed.

  The first rays of morning light were starting to stream through the small windows above the bed and she inched the covers down his chest so she could see his body. Her hand meandered under the covers. Tentative fingers slid under his tee to feel the wispy hairs on his abdomen. Curiosity urged her on to feel the hairs on his chest. In the past two days, he had given her two eyefuls; one of him naked and the other in his early morning state. Her traitorous body twitched, her mind said touch him, and her breasts felt as if they were swelling. She needed to feel more of him.

  Her hand moved lower as she pushed aside his boxers to take hold of the bulbs which held their future children. These two little things here are the bringers of life. She gently rolled them in her hands. His berries. She felt the larger part of him move against her hand. Oho, the twig wants to play too! Disregarding his reaction, she persisted with the gentle massage, enjoying the texture of the skin in comparison to other parts of his body. Using her hands to smooth down the hairs on his thighs, she slowly came back and noticed that now another part of him was fully awake. It almost called to her as it sat up, erect and craving her attention.

  Well, I don’t want the poor fella to feel unloved, so she took it in her hand.

  It was warm in her hands. “Hello there Guv’nah!” She said to Nigel’s attached buddy using a Cockney British accent.

  A tightening of her grip elicited movement from Nigel’s legs. Vanity turned to her side, resting her head on Nigel’s chest as she tightened her grip again while using her other hand to cup the life givers. His legs moved again. This position is all wrong. She shifted the way she was sitting next to him by coming to her knees and kneeling beside him in the bed.

  Her hand was firmly wrapped around him as she employed a gentle downward stroking action which made his toes splay open and then curl. His body seemed to like what she was doing, so she did it again, this time with a firmer grip. She heard Nigel grunt. She slowly lifted her head to look at this face in the dimly lit room, and his eyes were still closed. Just a little more and she would leave him to his sleep, but she had to admit that it was an impressive tool. She needed more friction. She quickly unhanded him, spit in her hand, and stroked him some more. Now, he was moving his legs and his hips.

  The groan that came from his throat, surprisingly, turned her on, so much so that she forgot she had told herself that she would stop her act. Especially since he was responding fully to what she was doing and she loved it. She shifted her weight again on the bed and gave him her full attention: grip, stroke, leg movement.

  Okay, he likes that.

  Pressure, rub faster, stroke, slow down, and wait. No movement of the legs. Noted. He doesn’t like that as much, back to the original technique.

  She now had a firm grip with her left hand. She stroked hard, cupped the life givers with her right, and gave them a gentle massage, and he moaned and thrust his hips.

  He really likes that.

  She gave him more. He was moving with her strokes and his breathing was becoming labored. Vanity thought she had better stop before she woke him. When she looked at his face, he was wide awake and looking at her. Oh Silk! Her eyes grew wide at being caught violating him in his sleep.

  His hands moved to his sides as he gripped the sheets, sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, and began to slowly move in her hand. Nigel’s eyes never left hers as he encouraged her to finish him off. She cupped and massaged the life givers, his brow furrowed, and his heavy breathing increased. She gripped him hard, looking into his eyes, and stroked downward. He raised up in the bed to his elbows.

  She stroked him harder.

  Nigel threw back his head and gave into the pleasure his wife was gifting him. It felt heavenly to him and he could not remember the last time he had, “Ohhhh,” was all that came out as he continued to move into her hand, emptying out a year’s worth of long hours, late nights, and loneliness. The longer she held and stroked him, the more he seemed to produce. When he finally stopped spewing forth his pent-up desires, he looked at his wife whose eyes were wide in disbelief. She was also frowning. Vanity Devons had a physical facial reaction.

  Her hand was held up and was completely covered in his DNA. She tried to shake it off like it was a sticky booger that would not go away. “What are you, Spiderman?” she asked.

  Nigel quickly removed his tee shirt and started to wipe her hands like a small child after they had eaten their first ice cream cone as he told her, “It’s been a bit, okay Love?”

  Vanity would not let it go. “A bit?” she asked him. “Is that a British unit of time measurement for two-and-a-half years? Do you produce that much every time? Holy Silk Sheeting! Are you planning to impregnate me or start an Army of minions?”

  She was laughing but he was not amused. He continued to use the shirt to clean himself up and removed the stained clothing, but now he was completely nude in the bed. She could not help but appreciate the beauty of his body. Vanity was about to push the envelope and tell him she would have to wear protective gear if they did that again, but she noticed a different look in his eyes.

  “I do like to reciprocate, my Dear,” he said and he reached for her. She wasn’t fast enough to get off the bed and he had her pinned under his thigh. “Time to dust the cobwebs off you as well, Spidergirl.”

  Nigel slowly lifted her pajama top to expose her breasts. The cool bedroom air hardened the buds and he lowered his head to take one in his mouth. Her struggling stopped and she went limp as he grazed his teeth across the sensitive skin. He gathered her in his arms, rolling to his back, then to his left side, depositing her gently on the bed. Slowly, she helped raise the top over her head until both breasts were exposed, and he licked his palm. She watched as his right hand lowered over her left breast and made circular motions over the nipple while his mouth brought pleasure to the right. Her legs began to move.

  Is this what my body was telling me it needed?

  He cupped the right breast and massaged it and gently squeezed the teat between his thumb and forefinger. A rush of feeling shot to her nether region and her legs clenched together. He moved over her body and took the left nipple in his mouth whilst his right hand made its way down her body. She wore Capri-style pajama pants and he needed her out of them. “Off,” he spoke softly, “can we take these off?” She followed his instructions and quickly removed the pants. For some reason, she left the underpants on and waited for his instructions.

  Gentle fingers rubbed the cotton fabric of her panties and then slipped in between her thighs to find their prize. The touch of his hand there brought her hands up into his hair, pulling his face closer to her breast and his fingers, awakened something inside of her, setting her body afire. He rubbed gently and she moved against his hand. Nigel stopped the movement to look at her face. She looked angered that he had ceased giving her pleasure, but as he watched her face, his hand moved to the top of the waistband of her panties. She said nothing. His four fingers slid inside the material to feel a Brazilian wax job with a landing strip. Vanity continued to watch his face as his index finger made contact with her... “Oh my,” she breathed heavily, and he applied pressure. “Goodness!” was all she could say as one finger went far enough down to collect moisture, but not far enough to be invasive. Nigel set to work.

  Within minutes, Vanity was deep into her pleasure, and when Nigel brought his mouth back to her breast, she let go. Since there was company in the house, he muffled her mouth with his own and she passionately responded while she moved against his hand. This one was a real wildcat and Nigel was loving every minute
of it, but at this rate, she would be pregnant by the end of the day. His body was ready again, and he wanted to make a first attempt at making love to her, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. He quickly grabbed the bed covers and covered their bodies.

  Through a dry and raspy throat, she called out, “Yeah?”

  Will opened the door and popped his head inside, “Hey Willie,” he started to say, but noticed the large wedding photo of the two of them over the bed. That was fast. He could not help but notice how happy and beautiful his sister looked in the photo, but his eyes were drawn back to the movement in the bed. “Sorry, Willie, Elsie and I were wondering if you wanted to join us this morning for yoga.”

  She giggled, “Well, I kind of worked out a little already this morning.” The thought of what she was implying made Will draw up a bit. His sister didn’t giggle! Willie wasn’t a giggling sort of woman.

  Nigel responded before Will could even react, as he came out from under the covers, “What do you mean, kind of?”

  The Duke had sat up in the bed and his chest was bare, and hair was completely disheveled. Will thought him to be a hairy fella but noticed his sister was without a top. Nigel gave him a direct stare, “Unless you want to hear my wife find religion this morning, I suggest you close and lock that door, Mate.” Nigel pulled the covers over their heads while telling Vanity, “I’ll give you a workout, Spidergirl!” Vanity giggled again like a school girl.

  “Oh Nigel...”

  Will hurriedly closed the door. He stood on the outside of the entrance looking sickened. There is a man in my sister’s bed! They are doing stuff to each other! Will felt the bile rise in his throat. He was hit with a rush of emotion and thought out loud, “Oh dear God, no.”

  Elsie came out of their room and stood in front of him. “Will, did you ask her to join us?”

  He shook his head yes as his hand covered his mouth and he looked at his wife, who was not paying much attention, “Well, Will, is she coming?” Elsie asked.

  Will grabbed his stomach and began to walk quickly towards the kitchen. Passing his wife, he could hear his sister’s voice as she began her morning prayers, yelling, “Oh bless me... this has to be a sin. Dear God, yes... Nigel, yes!”

  Will grabbed Elsie by the hand and muttered, “Sounds like it,” as they made their way towards the kitchen and Will started to cook breakfast.

  Elsie noticed the tinge of discoloration around his mouth and asked, “Will, can you feel what she is feeling?” Elsie had heard that twins could sometimes do that.

  He continued to whip the eggs to make omelets. “When we are in proximity, yes, and intense emotions we can feel, no matter how far apart we are.” Will stopped and stared into space. He clutched at his stomach and looked at his wife with an almost sick hue about him.

  Elsie had to know. “Did you feel what she just felt?”

  Will looked sick, “I feel an intense emotion and butterflies in my stomach.”

  They both remained quiet. Elsie continued to push, “Is this the first time you have felt this?”

  Will poured the first omelet mix into the pan. “Actually, it is.” He wasn’t sure if it was because he was here in the apartment with her because he knew it was not her first time with a man.

  Elsie was smiling at him, “Well you know what this means right?”

  Will handed her a completed omelet and made one for him. “Yes,” he muttered as he completed his breakfast and joined her at the table, “it means it’s time for us to leave.”

  Vanity Devons was in good hands.

  {18] Time to go to work...

  After a quick breakfast and a farewell to her brother- and sister-in-law, Vanity knew she had to get back to work. Will had been kind and made her and Nigel omelets, but she passed on the flipped over eggs and she packed them a lunch and headed downstairs to work. Nigel set up in the corner of her office and checked in with his staff. He made calls, checked on orders, and verified shipments of the fabric to her New York office as well as the fabric that would ship to the manufacturing division in California.

  At 11 am, he sat in on her meeting with Jessica and Clarke as they went over in detail the Milan show. He was surprised at how much responsibility they both held and even more so with the vast amount of responsibility that was held by Clarke. He wasn’t just the person who did her hair and make-up, Clarke was the Creative Director for all of Vanity Devon’s fashion shows.

  She gave them both marching directions and explained that she needed to see the final designs before she left for London next week and a dry run through the following Thursday when they met her at Nigel’s country estate in the Cotswold District. Nigel added, “It is outside of Gloucester.”

  He noticed Jessica making notes, and she looked at him, “Your Grace, is there anywhere to land a plane?” Nigel shook his head no, looking at her with some concern.

  Nigel heard a small bell chime and the meeting was ended. It was now time for lunch and he was starving. Vanity removed from the fridge two lunch containers. To Nigel, she handed a chicken salad sandwich with wedges of cheddar and double Gloucester, along with grapes and fresh berries. Jessica had already put on the kettle and he was surprised when his wife’s employees joined them at the table in the break room. Jessica poured his water for his tea and brought over a box of English teas for him to choose from.

  During the meal, there was no talk of work. They talked of plans for vacation and Clarke turned the conversation to Nigel, “Your Grace, what is your most favorite thing to do in your down time?”

  Nigel sat his teacup down and said, “I love to shoot.” He explained that he truly enjoyed spending as much time as he could at his home in Cotswold where he often would hunt quail or just shoot clays, “I think it is what you would call Skeet shooting.” Jessica asked a few questions, Vanity asked one, and then the conversation moved on.

  Nigel listened to them talk then he asked Jessica, “If money were no object, Jessica, what would you love to do?”

  Clarke piped in before she had a chance to answer, “I would be in Abu Dhabi!” Nigel only smiled at Clarke but kept his eyes trained on Jessica. She finally answered him, “I would do a month-long travel blog about eating my way through South America.”

  “Just a month?”

  Jessica finished her meal and took her plates to the sink. “Maybe two, then back to work,” she responded.

  Vanity knew Nigel well enough to understand that any question he asked was for good reason, but for now, she would make no inquiries about his intentions. He was a surprising man, and he continued to earn more of her trust when he took her plate from the table, made dishwater, and washed their dishes. He even dried them and put them back in the lunch bags. Clarke and Jessica watched in amazement. He even washed his tea cup and left it on a napkin to drain. Nigel turned to find everyone staring at him.

  “Well, I will need it again for afternoon tea,” he told them.

  The afternoon progressed nicely and Nigel was able to get a great deal completed while his wife met with two department store merchandisers. Each attempt they made to strong arm her into placing her products in their stores she refuted with professionalism and grace. He heard the chime again as his wife took a break for an afternoon snack. She dismissed her business guests, showing them to the door, and moved her way back to the kitchen and made tea for him with lemon cakes and fresh strawberries. “Are you eating on a schedule Wilhelmina?”

  “Yes, I must balance out my glycemic index,” she explained that she had never, and would never, diet, be a fad eater, or torture her body. “I eat small meals all day which boosts my metabolism, so I can enjoy what I want.” She nibbled on a strawberry and snacked on a piece of cheddar, adding, “Since I am never hungry, I don’t have any cravings or am prone to eat things I shouldn’t.”

  She smiled at him, “I have been the same weight since I was 15 years old and the same size.” Nigel was happy to know she did not have any eating disorders and that meal time was not going to be a to
tal pain in the ass with him forced to graze on leafy greens of foliage and a sliver of meat. Vanity made a point of telling him, “I eat just about everything, including carbs, but I don’t eat beef.” He asked no questions, and she took care of clean up.

  They worked until about 5:45 and she started to close up shop. “Are you done for the day?” he wanted to know.

  Vanity explained they only worked from ten until six pm unless there was a show coming up or a heavy production schedule. “When we return from Milan, we go into production to fill orders, and then we begin the winter catalogs.” She explained that her catalogs were only filled with items that were not sold at shows.

  At six fifteen, Nigel was starving and asked her about food, “Are we going to order something, or should we call a car to take us to dinner?” She waved her finger for him to follow her in the kitchen.

  “Wash your hands and come join me.” She removed four chicken breasts from the fridge that had marinated all day. “Nigel, I very rarely, if ever, eat out.”

  “You are cooking?” he asked incredulously as she butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts.

  “I cook all my meals, unless of course, one of my brothers is here, then I let him cook.” He watched her place the grill over the eyes of the stove. Vanity washed the asparagus, cleaned it, and threw it in the steamer. Brown rice with chicken stock was added to the rice cooker, and he watched in amazement as she prepped, prepared, and plated their dinner. With patience and care, Vanity showed him how to wash the Romaine and tomatoes as he prepared the salads. Next, she demonstrated how to make her favorite dressing of olive oil, white wine vinegar, lemon juice and fresh herbs. There was also a nice choice of wines for dinner.

  “Halley bought David a vineyard as a wedding present. He is training to be a Sommelier, and he has a great palate. Most of these wines are his selections. A few are mine.”