by Lady Keisha
“Swing by my room later. I have a question for you.”
After he watched her ass sway back into the house, he rested his face on his palms. There was going to be no escape.
He did stop by her room but paused for a long minute before knocking on the door.
“Come in,” she answered brightly.
“Hey. You wanted to see me?”
“Actually, I want to see all of you. But I’ll settle for an answer to my question.”
“Which is?”
“Want to come back to school with me tomorrow?”
“I can’t. My leave is up tomorrow. But what about next Saturday? I could, um, drop by.”
She grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll text you my address.”
He looked at her silently, almost staring straight through her, before turning and leaving the room.
That night she could not help herself, she had to relieve at least a tiny portion of the tension of the day. She hoped he could hear her moans through the bedroom wall that separated them, and came ferociously against her own fingers as she remembered the encounter in the pool.
Clint heard every rustle and gasp from her room, and grunted loudly himself as he thrust his hard cock into his own fist. He knew exactly what next Saturday was going to bring, and he only hoped he could last longer than the sixty seconds he feared would happen.
All week Ashley was bouncy and giddy and nervous. On Friday, she spent several hours at the spa, getting her manicure and pedicure and even a haircut. On Saturday morning, she took a long hot shower to scrub and shave everywhere that needed it. Everywhere.
She chose a short thin sundress and a tiny white thong, and waited anxiously for the doorbell.
Clint got up early, too anxious and frustrated to sleep any later. He started the drive down around noon, but was not sure when he was “supposed” to arrive. He shifted his feet outside of the door for several minutes before finally pressing the doorbell.
Inside, Ashley’s heart jumped and her pussy clenched. It was the now-or-never moment.
She opened the door and smiled at Clint who could not stop his own grin. She stepped back into the apartment as he stepped forward. They stood silent and motionless for a long minute, just staring at each other and mentally cycling through all of the teasing and all of the torturous moments that had led to this place and this time.
And then they combusted.
His hands slid around her waist and pulled her against him. Their mouths pressed together, lips parted, tongues diving into one another. One of his hands slid lower and slipped up under the short skirt of her dress to dig into her smooth ass.
“God Ashley, you’ve been driving me crazy…” he mumbled against her neck.
“Oh Clint, I didn’t think I could wait any longer,” she whispered back. “I had to have you.”
He groaned and wedged one leg between hers.
“The pool was almost too much,” she confessed shyly as her hands felt the firmness of his chest and arms.
“Everything has been too much…”
She felt his thigh pressing up against her heat and tried to grind against him. He withdrew his thigh and taunted her.
“Oh no Missy, now it’s my turn to torment…”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the couch off to one side. He easily spun her around and walked her backwards until she was up against it. He lightly pushed her chest and she dropped down firmly.
He knelt in front of her and ran his hands up her thighs until they disappeared under her skirt. He kneaded her silky skin, his thumbs drawing tantalizing circles nearer and nearer to the heat. Clint leaned forward and kissed her hard, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She gasped and moaned softly.
He caught the hem of her dress in his fingers and slowly slid it up, kissing and licking every exposed inch as it traveled higher and higher. He groaned loudly when he caught a glimpse of the white satin and kissed his way around every edge and seam. She squirmed on the couch, the heat rising and spreading from her belly to her pussy.
He slid it further up as his tongue tickled her stomach and traced the lower curve of her bare breasts. He finally slid the dress up and off and his pupils dilated when he took in the large firm breasts that had been revealed.
“They’re gorgeous,” he breathed, taking one nipple between his lips.
He pinched it lightly, flicking his tongue over the taut surface. She groaned and ran her fingers through his blonde hair, pulling him against her eager body. His fingers and tongue tormented her aching nipples back and forth while she writhed and moaned.
He kissed his way back down her smooth stomach until he pressed his lips against the wet satin.
She gasped loudly, “Clint…”
He looked up, startled. “Ashley?”
“I’ve never, I mean, no one’s ever…”
“Never? Really?”
His fingers traced tortuous circles around her throbbing clit but never touched it.
“No, never…”
“Mmm, I like that I’ll be the first…”
He slowly slid her panties off and marveled at the smooth wet skin. He exhaled warmly and she shivered hard.
“Clint, I don’t know…”
“Relax, it won’t hurt at all…”
He pressed his lips against her closed lips, letting his tongue graze softly. He relished in her moans and gasps as she felt all new forms of torment.
Her heart beat so fast in her chest she thought she might end up with a broken rib. His lips and tongue felt so delicious but she was so nervous at what he was about to do.
His tongue delved inside and her back arched. He zeroed in on her tender pulsing clit, grasping it lightly between his lips and dancing his tongue across the taut surface.
Her body radiated heat and cold, she felt flush and struggled for breath. She never imagined something could feel so intense or that someone would focus so much attention on such a tiny part of her. She felt the tremors in her belly, stronger than anything she had had before. Her thighs parted further, silently begging him for more. He pressed harder and circled faster, watching her stomach flutter faster.
She felt every muscle in her body go rigid for a moment and then she screamed. Her hands pulled his face against her and she fought to stay conscious as the waves washed through to her fingers and toes.
When she fell back against the couch panting, he raised himself up to grin at her.
“Inside me…” she whispered.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the other room to lay her down on the bed.
Through hazy eyes, she watched as he removed his own clothes. His chest was as firm as it had always been and she reached out to run her fingers down the rippled ab muscles. Her eyes widened as he slid off his shorts and boxers. His large swollen cock bobbed into view and she wondered if it would fit inside her. She was not inexperienced but she had never seen anything quite that large.
He knelt over her on the bed and she ran her hands up his length.
He groaned deep in his throat, “Better not do too much of that…”
“I want to touch and feel and taste and everything. I want all of it at the same time.”
He chuckled, “Might have to be patient, little one.”
She pouted and wrapped her hand around his girth, stroking it softly.
“Dammit, you gotta stop…”
She wriggled on the bed until she was lying in front of him. She ran her tongue up the sensitive underside, never breaking eye contact.
He twisted at the waist to pull away. “Lay back down,” he growled.
She flipped back around and spread her legs for him. He gripped her hips hard and rubbed the tip of his cock against her slippery opening. They groaned in unison as he slowly slid himself inside.
“Slowly,” she gasped.
He inched his way in, desperately trying to control himself as he felt her warm velvet walls close around his cock. When he felt his pelvis hit hers, he paused
to give her a moment to accommodate him and to give himself a moment to hold back. He slid out and back in, her hips rising up to meet his.
“Fuck…” she breathed. “You’re huge…”
He grinned. She wasn’t just stroking his ego, she truly meant it.
“Faster, Clint, faster” she urged.
He did not need to be told twice and he picked up the pace of his stroking. They fell into their rhythm, and he knew that her tight little pussy was not going to give him much leeway in his self-control.
“Ashley, I’m not going to…”
“No, wait Clint, not yet, please not yet, don’t stop…”
His voice was hoarse with desire, “Either I stop or I finish…”
She could feel the next climax building inside her with every stroke. His thick cock stroking places inside her that had never been touched. Closer and closer with every thrust, she just needed a few more before he lost his load.
“Faster. Harder.” she gasped out each word. “Fuck. Me.”
He grabbed her hips to hold her still and he pounded her with everything he had left. He grunted loudly as she whimpered.
“I’m going to…”
“Yes, inside me, with me…”
She yelled as the wave burst through her and over her and around her. He thrust one more time into her and held her in place by the hips. It was months of torment and desire and need and lust pouring into her body and she took every drop.
He collapsed on top of her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him inside and against her.
“Goddammit.”
She grinned next to his ear. “Ditto.”
“I gotta have more.”
“Well give me a minute here, big boy.”
“I’m just getting started.” He propped himself up on one elbow and grinned back at her.
She licked her lower lip slowly. “I still need to taste.”
For her teasing effort, she was rewarded with a twitch of his soft cock as it rested next to her dripping pussy.
He eventually rolled off of her and they slipped easily into an exhausted sleep. Several hours later, Ashley woke up and realized he was running his fingers through her tangled hair.
“Hi…” she said sleepily.
“Hey yourself. You know I meant what I said. I want more.”
“I just woke up,” she giggled.
“Not just that, more of all of you.”
She rested her cheek against his chest and sighed softly. “All of you too.”
THE END
The Taken Bride
The layers of Mary’s thick taffeta skirts rustled as she climbed into the carriage. The journey to the nearby town always exhausted her but there was no other way to obtain the household goods that George demanded. He had to have his certain type of tea and would get quite upset if there were no lemons for it.
The afternoon was hot and humid, and as the driver started towards home, she tried to ignore the feeling of dirt and grit on her normally silky pale skin. She wished desperately that it was her bath day but she had to wait a little while longer. She hoped that she would at least find a moment to use a cool cloth on her legs once she returned to her bedroom. The humidity in the air had sent her auburn waves into wild curls that refused to stay in their upswept bun.
Last night George had also demanded her other wifely duties, and she succumbed as she had for the last twelve years. It was hardly enjoyable or even pleasant, but she was in no position to deny him. Every few months, he berated her for his lack of an heir and he used it as a convenient excuse whenever he felt the urge to violate her body.
There were so many nights that Mary wished he would just avail himself of the house in town that no respectable man would enter. But so far she had had no such luck in a reprieve. His sweaty bald head, clammy hairy belly, and thin limbs turned her stomach but there was no way to avoid the attentions of her husband.
At nearly thirty, with George approaching fifty, Mary was running out of time to produce her husband the blessed son he so badly wanted from her. She had done everything in her power and was resigned to the fact it was not going to happen. Mostly she was okay with that. If only George could be more accepting of the situation.
Her life was reasonably routine and bland, including the evenings George had been out to the pub for drinking. That seemed to be more and more frequent as of late but what could Mary do. She usually tried to either be asleep or pretend to be asleep when he came home. Sometimes it deterred his interest and sometimes it did nothing to stop him.
Mary tried to fan herself in the carriage as she rode along the bumpy dirt road. The poor horses and driver went over one rock so hard, she feared her ample bosoms would pop free of the corseted top of her dress. She clasped her hands at her chest to make sure she did not suddenly become indecent on the journey through the middle of nowhere. The heat in the air made it hard to breathe, especially given the cinched waist of the dress she had chosen for the trip.
Mary arrived home just before dinner and frantically tried to tidy herself as well as the house. The cook had the meal almost ready, for which Mary was exceedingly grateful, but she still had to have everything else prepared and ready just so. She was not in the mood for an angry George.
The plates of food hit the table just as George arrived home from his meeting with Robert, who lived about half a day away.
“That bloody man is going to be the death of me!” George bellowed as he slammed the door open. “He still will not grant me purchase of that pond. What good is owning the land if I do not own the pond that sits on it? I need the water for the trees and the horses. It is absurd that he owns the water and I own the land.”
“Good evening George,” Mary said quietly.
“You as well,” he grumbled in her direction. He was more focused on the food and wine on the table than her. “Did you get my tea and lemons?”
“Yes, sir. I returned from town a short while ago.” Mary smoothed a stray auburn curl back into her upswept topknot.
“I hope you did not spend too much of my hard-earned money.”
“But of course not, sir.” Mary looked up at him through her dark lashes. His face was not turning quite so many different shades of red so he must not have been too upset with her.
After dinner, George continued to drink the wine while Mary read by candlelight in the sitting room. She excused herself early for the evening, still wanting to wash down before crawling into her bed. She was grateful that they slept in different rooms most nights. It enabled her to get more sleep than if she had to listen to him snoring all night.
Mary carefully removed and laid out her garments, wishing she had the ability to lock the door as she stood naked in the middle of the room. She soaked the soft cloth in the cool water of the basin and caressed her heated skin. It helped to get rid of a little of the grime as well as taking away some of the heat of the day.
As she rinsed and wrung out the cloth, the door burst open loudly and George lurched into the room. No doubt he had finished his bottle of wine and was ready to have his way with her. There was rarely any point in protesting, let alone when she was caught naked.
George pushed her roughly to the bed and climbed on top of her, forcing her thighs apart. After several minutes of grunting in her ear and thrusting himself into her body, she felt his seed surge into her and she fought back revulsion. He rolled off and stumbled back through the still open door to his own bed to sleep it off.
Mary sighed deeply at the state of her life, and now the mess of her bed. She rose slowly and tried to clean herself off again. It had been drilled into her that sex was only for married people but she really did not see the attraction anyway. What on earth would she have gained from George’s attentions prior to marriage? When she had been younger and still in the market for a husband, her childhood friends told her that she would have her choice of any man. Her dark red ringlets, deep green eyes, and creamy skin were not bad to look at, but the years of George�
��s drunken advances had rendered her incapable of seeing beauty in the mirror.
The time seemed to drag on, daily meals and weekly trips to town. And every few nights, George would stumble in and out of her body in a drunken stupor. He spent the evening meal cursing to her about Robert, but she did not truly understand the need to own that pond in particular in comparison to all of the other ponds and streams they owned. But, as George frequently pointed out, what does a woman know about a man’s business such as this? She was only good for keeping house and producing children, which she was obviously unable to accomplish.
One particular evening George was especially enraged at Robert. One of the trees on that parcel of land had recently begun bearing fresh ripe apples and George took the fruit as a personal affront to everything that made him a man.
Mary had no idea what apples had to do with anything, but George instructed her to go gather as many as she and the cook could carry. The next morning, Mary put on one of her more casual dresses, the light cotton type that one wears around the house. She and the cook trudged down the hillside and around the pond to gather said offensive fruit.
Mary grinned at the short rotund cook trying to jump for the apples.
“Do not laugh, Mum. It’s harder than it looks.”
Mary, at several inches taller and a number of pounds lighter, was able to reach them more easily.
The cook just shook her head, “I’m doing the best I can but I do not care anyway. What are we doing out here?”
Mary looked at the shiny red skin of the apple and took a deep bite, chewing thoughtfully. She offered the cook a bite and the poor sweating girl accepted eagerly.
Out of everyone in the household, the cook was probably the one person Mary spent the most time with, and coincidentally liked the most. They lay back on the ground next to each other and Mary ran her fingers over the tiny blades of grass. It felt like the velvet that covered their dining room chairs.
Off in the distance, hoof beats pounded against the ground but the two women paid no attention. In the countryside, hoof beats were as common as crickets or birds. The grass almost felt cool beneath them compared to the sweltering blanket of humidity that spread out through the air.
