‘Help me, Jill,’ he growls in my ear because the damn nylon is sticking to my skin and creating a resistance. I help him but my mouth hasn’t stopped on his shoulder. He tastes like coconut lotion and sun and salt on my tongue.
Then there we are. My bottoms slung right below my ass cheeks. That part of me stark white against the brown skin kissed by the sun. His shorts are down around his knees. He kicks them to the side and on his way to standing straight, yanks my bottoms all the way down. I step out of them.
One hand finds my thigh, pulls it up, wraps it around his waist. He holds me like that. An unfaithful stork, balanced on one foot, being fucked in public. That shoots another ball of heat through my centre and he forces into me. Thrusting up high and hard. His eyes boring into mine. He likes to watch me as he fucks me. He likes to watch me come. He even likes the one or two tears that may escape when all is said and done.
‘Tomorrow’s your last day here,’ he says bluntly. His teeth find my nipple and tear at it.
I feel that familiar tightening in my cunt. The pulse becomes a flutter. The pounding gets faster and rougher. He bites again and I moan and clutch at him.
‘Yes. My last day.’
‘We’re walking tomorrow?’ he asks, staring me down again. Biting his fingers into my waist, pushing me roughly against the wood.
His cock is hitting me just right inside and when he yanks my leg higher I start to unfold. Little pieces of light taking up more and more of the space inside of me that is normally dark.
‘Yes!’ I say as I come. It is both an answer to his question and a declaration of joy for those moments where I feel alive. When I come. When a man wants me. Really wants me. Where I am not a piece of scenery or a secretary.
Two, three, four more heavy thrusts and he empties into me with what is possibly the harshest sound I have ever heard from a human throat.
We both dress. He’s still staring and I like it. I like that he keeps his eyes on me until he isn’t allowed to anymore. I don’t kiss him. I never do once it’s over. He walks off first. That is what I stipulated a week ago on day one.
I stare at the shack. Its weathered beauty. Its stark design. I will come back later and take a picture. The walk back is pleasant. My body warm inside and out. My skin feels like warm liquid. I can feel his come puddling in the cotton crotch of my bikini bottom.
Back at the blanket, I accept the lunch my mother offers. I listen to the kids chatter and I laugh. I also stare at the back of Will’s head as he sits and read his book not twenty feet away. He will still be sitting there when we leave. His close proximity and the knowledge of our recent act keeps my nipples hard throughout the afternoon. No one but me knows, the top is well-padded. He might suspect it but he will never tell.
I’m putting the finishing touches on the last scrapbook page when Alan walks in. He gives me a chaste kiss on the back of the neck.
‘I’m really sorry I couldn’t make this one,’ he says, looking over my shoulder. ‘I can’t wait to look at the completed book.’
He says this one as if he has ever made a family vacation. In nine years, he never has. I’ve been nearly invisible for two years. I am not a financial spreadsheet or the head of a major corporation. I am unimportant.
‘I know. Maybe next year,’ I say with a small smile. I can do the dance of insincerity as well. I have mastered it.
I slide the twelve by twelve paper into the protective sleeve and shut the book. When he holds out his hands and grins as if he truly cannot wait to see it, I hand it over.
We will look at it together like we always do.
He flips through and laughs at the picture of Simon and Paige mugging for the camera with the fish they just caught. He smiles at the picture of my parents in a dance contest at a restaurant. Then he points to the lone picture on one page. A rickety white flight of wooden steps.
‘These are my favourites,’ he says, pointing. ‘The ones where you just take pictures of things. You have a way with the camera. They have so much feeling in them.’
I nod and look over his shoulder. They are my favourites too. When he looks at the picture he sees weathered steps looking very artistic. When I look at the picture, I see myself on my knees under that staircase, Will’s cock in my mouth. I see my face covered in his come. I see it hanging off my earlobes like pearl earrings. And I see him pulling my bathing suit down and eating my pussy. I smile again.
‘And this one,’ he points and beams at me. Wifey can do something after all. She can take pictures.
I glance and smile back. The field of sea oats. I look at the picture and see Will fucking me from behind. Leaving vivid white fingerprints on the mocha-coloured skin of my hips. I see him grabbing my hair and yanking my head back as he pounds his cock into me and I hear him saying, ‘Fuck. You feel so good, Jill.’
That is what I see. What I hear.
There are eight of these pictures. Each one is magical to me. I do not see what he sees when he looks at them. I see what happened there. I remember that feeling of being wanted.
Alan turns to the lifeguard shack.
‘Ah,’ I say with a little laugh. ‘That is my favourite.’
He nods and agrees and continues on looking at my stay-at-home mum handiwork. This is my fifth album. There will be more unless he makes the next one.
I close my eyes and feel a big hand hook my naked leg around a warm waist. I hear slapping fucking sounds. I smell coconut. I hear sounds only animals should make. I feel warm semen leaking from me. And my skin feels like warm liquid again for just a moment.
A Punishment To Some
by Anaïs Nohant
A regular tête-à-tête seemed out of the question now. Defying his rules meant discipline would become the game of today’s lesson. This was my first confrontation with the primal side of the man I called DH. The secret side buried under his wit and facade of emotional vacancy.
I had actually dared not to wear his favourite toy in his presence. I did not, in point of fact, want to disregard his request to prepare myself for him. Quite the opposite. I thought that with me wearing a flowing white cotton skirt, surely someone would know – would see. The coward in me felt like I couldn’t risk it. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought he would suspect or even intuitively know. Even harder for me to imagine that he, as we stood together in front of our suburban coffee shop, would check when I least suspected it.
Aided by the sound of whizzing cars, and caffeine-addicted patrons’ eyes glued to their electronic gadgetry, oblivious, he proceeded with great stealth to slip a warm and soft hand under my bare cunt towards my backside. I had failed to do his bidding and he now knew it.
Eyes squinting and mouth hardened, his stoic facial expression developed a deliberate cold look of infuriation. He grabbed my hand, my purse, my keys and almost dragged me to my car. I tried to explain. He lifted his hand to say not now. I had no idea where he was going until we hit the red light. Then I thought that maybe he was taking me to the park near my house. When he passed that street, and turned onto mine, my breath hitched. I couldn’t believe it. He knew where I lived.
Without saying a word, he parked the car and killed the engine. Within two seconds, he was at the passenger side, beckoning me to exit. He grabbed my hand again, pulling me to my front door. As he unlocked and opened the door, I peered nervously over his shoulder to check if anyone noticed our entrance. He nudged me to the dining room. Light blasted from all the windows. ‘Off, take it all off now!’ he said, assuming a predatory stance. My eyes flew to the windows. Was he not the least alarmed by our visibility to all?
‘Don’t defy my wishes again,’ he ordered.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he never gave me the chance. Clothes flew everywhere before my mind had the ability to assimilate what was happening. He pressed me down on the middle of my glass dining table. The abrasive sound of him jerking his tie from its confines made a shiver run down the length of my spine. Without penitence, he secured my hands b
ehind my back. He took his hand and rubbed up and down the slope of my rear as it presented itself ready for his touch, lifted high in the air. My breasts were squeezed firmly against the glass, He kept touching, exploring. Then suddenly, he delivered a forceful slap across the plump right cheek. I grimaced and moaned at his first battle cry.
He didn’t wait long to continue his erotic corporal attentions. He struck over and over, never hitting one side twice in a row. The heat and friction of his continual spanking penetrated my skin. I could feel the prints of his hands burned onto my now reddened cheeks. It was breathtaking. I stimulated my breasts by pressing and shifting my rock hard nipples back and forth on the cold glass. The tell-tale sign of flooding honey, that always flowed from his touch, ran down my thighs.
With the light pouring in, I knew he’d see my deluge shimmer. He stopped suddenly, confirming my hunch, aware that I was enjoying this too much. As if awestruck by my sudden inundation, he traced his finger along the path of the seeping liquid. He pulled my right leg on the table, leaving me completely open to him. The cleft of my arse spread open, calling for his consideration. He used his crafty tongue to drive me to madness, first licking up some of the juice trickling down my leg. He then followed the forbidden trail to my exposed cleft.
He propelled his clever wet tool up and down the middle of my cheeks, administering bites every few inches, electrifying all the nerve endings that led to my clenching anus. He sucked around it with remorseless fury and I could feel the badges of bruises left by his ferocity. He spread the cheeks of my arse wider in preparation for his lethal impassioned concentrations. He swirled his tongue just outside of the rim and then, around the raised bud. His tongue flicked the puckered skin with carnal exuberance.
As I felt the overwhelming sensations build in my newly exalted region, my body savagely struggled with urgency. He could make me come this way and he knew it too. Unexpectedly, he took both his hands and smacked both my cheeks, once again. He grabbed them in his palms, kneading the scalding warmth as he tongued my quivering hole. His intensity doubled and relentlessly he pierced through the contracting muscles, the gates that kept him from driving home his final act of plunder. I screamed out his name in luscious torment. His tongue jack-hammered my anus, pounding in and out, bringing me one step closer to the point of climax. My mind was clouded, thinking a single thought, ‘I’m almost there. Please just fuck it harder and deeper .’ He must have sensed what I needed to bring me right to the edge and he quickly replaced his tongue with a more fulfilling finger. He pumped with deliberate strokes only to abruptly … stop.
I felt his finger retreat from me. Damn it, he must have some other sort of punishment in mind. His jeans rustled as they hit the ground. He pulled me up, whipped me around, and lowered my body until I was on my knees, in supplication to him. My hands tugged against the binding that kept them tied behind my back. I longed to pull free his massive cock from the confines of his boxer shorts. I scooted closer to him. He pushed me down to rest on my heels and barked, ‘Don’t move.’
I whimpered in protest.
‘None of that, Minx. You will have to learn your lesson first.’ I pouted at his reprisal. He swiped his thumb across my lips. ‘You do want me to fuck that insatiable arse of yours with my cock, don’t you?’
He knew he didn’t have to ask. There was no uncertainty or hesitation. I wanted him to take me that way. I wanted beyond all things to be filled by his throbbing gift of mythic proportions. Just the thought of it always made my cunt shudder.
‘This is my time and with my time your luscious arse will be filled with our little toy stretching you until you’re ready for me to fuck it.’
I shuddered at the thought. His words made my demanding craving all the more unbearable. He hadn’t made me come yet and my body screamed in rebellion. Instead of alleviating my torture, he continued to feed its frustration. He pulled through the opening in his boxers to wield a perfect creation of manhood. ‘Please,’ I gasped. He knew what the plea was for. He knew that I wanted him to fuck my mouth. ‘Oh no, this is part of your penalty. You will sit there and watch what you could’ve had if you’d obeyed me.’
Spreading my knees wide for easy access, he lowered himself down to rub first his balls and then his cock in my folds. I drove my body forward so my cunt would consume what he kept from me. Aware of my skullduggery, he pulled out immediately. ‘I told you keep still,’ he admonished. His eyes glinted with mischief as he rose. His cock now hung inches from my mouth. He had one hand caressing his balls and the other firmly wrapped around his cock. He slowly teased himself with my lubrication until not one spot was without my wetness.
My mouth opened to an ‘O’ in mutiny. I had to get off. My beyond-swollen clit felt like a drum solo, pulsing so hard that every squirm or movement drove me one step closer to coming but never quite let me reach release. As if to infuriate me, he would stop at mid-stroke and smile as if he was pausing to imagine the tight muscles of my anus around it. Then playfully, he’d continue moving his hand up and down the shaft. I tightened my vaginal muscles with fast but steady squeezes like a metronome, hoping that it would help me come.
‘How is Pandora doing?’ he said with a chuckle, motioning with his eyes to my vibrating cunt at one of his deliberate halts. I gave an agonising lament.
‘Do you want to come, Minx?’
‘God, yes,’ I hissed.
‘Maybe I will let you, but first stick your tongue out.’ She swiftly obliged. ‘Not good enough. More. Ah, that’s it.’ He placed his tightening balls on my spread tongue while still hand fucking himself. Their welcome heat urged my tongue to sway back and forth on their underside.
‘Lick all your cream off. Do it now.’ I greedily lapped my juice that covered the globes of tautening skin, which were now filling with his own cum.
‘Does it taste good?’
Good? My mind and body rolled with excitement. ‘No, not good,’ my eyes told him, but rather sweet, hot and fucking incredible.
His movements seemed to accelerate. He backed up a little. ‘Now, open wider, yes … that’s it, keep your tongue out.’ I could tell he was about to come. His face grimaced and his control seemed to falter. His fevered strokes almost brushed my face. ‘Now Minx, I’m going to fill your mouth with what should have been in your delicious cunt. With a groan he said, ‘I’m going to … come on your tongue so you can taste what will fill your arse, and then you will crave it there every moment.’
When the first shot of his come hit my tongue, he started to lower himself to me. His cock was still unloading as I felt his other hand pinch my clit. While the remaining downpour slipped down my throat, he finger fucked me with his forefinger and middle finger, while his thumb flicked my clit. My release was almost instantaneous. I screamed my orgasm against his inner thigh. He dropped his other hand from his cock and caressed the side of my face. ‘Ah Minx, I didn’t even have to fuck you with my cock to make you scream. You’ve learned your lesson haven’t you, though?’
I nodded. He untied me and gently lifted me to take me to the bedroom. After he laid me on my bed, passing one long finger across my cheek, he moved a stray hair and hooked it behind my ear. I gazed at him adoringly. He reached inside my nightstand and put our favourite toy in my hand.
‘My time is my time and don’t ever forget again or else I’ll have to come up with another punishment,’ he said, smiling broadly as I rubbed his glorious handprint that still left an impression on my backside. Turning me to the side for a better view, he traced the outline of my enflamed skin. He bent down to kiss away the burn and lingered there for a moment, taking in the gorgeous sight. Then silently, he rose to leave. Heading toward the hallway, he turned back when I said boldly, ‘A punishment to some, to some a gift, and to many a favour.’ A sly amusement washed over his face. For a split second, I could see the waver of want to start our games all over again.
‘Virgil?’ he asked.
‘No, Seneca.’
‘Ahh …’
he said as he descended the stairs. After hearing the door swing shut, I leaned over and put the toy back in my nightstand. His time was over now. The front door closed without out my protest because I knew he’d be back tomorrow. I whispered with a sated grin, ‘Thank you, DH.’ I turned to my side and in more than a whisper with a kitty cat stretch, I spoke dreamily, ‘Minx, huh? Hmmn …’ I shut my eyes and settled in the covers for a well-needed nap.
Backstage
by Roger Frank Selby
Miss Lacey!’
‘Good evening, er …’
‘Rod Styles.’
‘Ah yes, Mr Styles. Look, I know it’s late, but I need to go backstage for five minutes and have a look at the new set for Act Two.’
‘Sorry, miss, don’t think that would be allowed. I’m responsible for Health and Safety and there’s a lot of heavy kit on that set.’
She turned on her smile and took off her coat, revealing a skin-tight sweater beneath. Laura Lacey’s stunning figure had played a bigger part than acting ability in landing this leading role, and she knew it. ‘You can call me Laura, er, Rod. Mr Erikson asked me to familiarise myself with the set before rehearsals. I’ll be very careful, I promise.’
She saw his jaw drop as he took in the full view. He looked as though he would like to familiarise himself with her set.
Eventually he spoke. ‘I suppose it will be OK … Laura.’
He let her in, turned the lights full on and followed her backstage.
She stepped up among the dark timbers and wrought-iron of the massive equipment on the set. She breathed in the pleasant smell of wood, metal, paint; there was also the sharp tang of leather.
‘Impressive, ain’t they?’
It looked as if he was going to follow her around like a big puppy. ‘Why don’t you make yourself a coffee, or something, while you wait in your office.’ She turned off the smile.
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