by Felix Baron
A fat drop of rain fell on his right instep and rinsed some of the blood away. Another drop hit his left eyebrow and made him blink. Within a minute, it became a downpour. Soaked, miserable, and beginning to imagine he was getting hungry already, Rolf trudged back into the forest.
An age of deep despair and stumbling misery later, he heard Penny’s voice faintly, through the drumming of the rain. ‘Rolf? Where are you, Rolf? Come on home, please?’
‘Here,’ he croaked.
She’d changed into boots, jeans and a long-sleeved check shirt but was soaked and dishevelled. He outweighed her two-to-one but she half carried him, him hopping and with his arm heavy across her slender shoulders. In the kitchen, she pulled his clothes off and sat him naked on a towel on a straight chair. Her own wet clothes followed his, into a saturated pile. Penny knelt to wash his right foot and pluck a long black thorn from its heel. Mercurochrome stopped the bleeding from a dozen small scratches. She found a cut on his right cheek and another on his left forearm, that had to be cleaned and disinfected. His left shin was bruised in two places but the skin wasn’t broken.
By the time she was done, the proximity of her naked body was beginning to affect him. Penny glanced at his semi-erection and announced, ‘Bath time.’
She helped him up the stairs, her soft hip against his hard thigh, his arm across her shoulders again. He was lowered into steaming and bubbling water. As he soaked, she washed his hair. Her nipples traced lines across his back when she bent him forward to rinse him but that might have been accidental.
‘Can you stand up OK?’
‘Of course.’ He stood, unsteadily. She braced him with both hands on his hips and her face a foot from his swaying genitals. When he was steady, she fetched warm towels and dabbed him dry, thoroughly but impersonally. Rolf was almost disappointed by her coolness. She was, after all, supposed to be desperate for his body.
He hobbled to his bed with hardly any help from Penny. She tucked him in. His eyes closed.
When he opened them, she was curled up on a chaise, watching him. She was wearing a white cotton broderie anglaise nightie with cap sleeves. It wasn’t long but neither was it daringly short. It laced down to her waist, but the ribbons had been pulled tight and tied in a bow at her throat, to close it demurely. Her platinum ponytail gleamed as if from a thousand brush-strokes. Her face was innocent of make-up. Penny smiled and asked, ‘Dinner? Here or downstairs?’
‘In the kitchen would be fine – save laying the table.’
‘Can you make it, in say, fifteen minutes?’
‘Sure.’
She’d laid pyjama pants and a cotton robe out on the foot of his bed. Rolf dressed in those, brushed his teeth again, shaved again, spritzed with cologne and went down. Somehow, despite all that had happened that day, Penny’d managed to roast a rack of lamb with rosemary and prepare baby potatoes and peas with mint.
He sat down. She poured two modest glasses of a Californian rosé. ‘To us!’
‘To us! Penny, I have to thank you.’ He chuckled. ‘I was getting into quite a state out there. If you hadn’t come looking for me . . .’
‘I know those woods well. You were distraught when you left here. I shouldn’t have let you go off like that.’
‘My fault,’ he insisted.
‘No, mine.’
They ate in awkward silence for a while. Penny broke the quiet by asking, ‘Did your sojourn in the wilderness bring you any insights, Rolf?’
‘Now you’re making fun of me.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m making light of something that is very important to me.’ She got up from her seat and went round to Rolf’s chair, where she knelt and took his hand. There were tears in her eyes. ‘Rolf, a girl likes to know if tonight is the night she’s going to offer up her virginity to the man she loves.’
Rolf had been braced against any wickedly seductive gambits she might have made. She could have dressed up as a whore or as a harem slave, and he’d have steeled himself against her. This, though, this modest maiden, imploring him, he wasn’t at all prepared for. Before he’d considered his words or the implications, he said, ‘I’d be honoured, Penny.’
She kissed his fingers. A tear dropped onto his knuckles. They abandoned their half-eaten meals. At the foot of the stairs, Rolf scooped her up into his arms. He was relieved to discover that his strength had returned enough for him to carry her up to his bedroom without panting. Reverently, he laid her in his bed and turned to switch the lights off.
‘Please, Rolf? Leave them on? I want to see you, and for you to see me. We don’t need darkness to cover our shame, not when we are shameless.’
He dropped his robe. ‘Are we?’
‘For the first time,’ she said, ‘I’m feeling a bit nervous about you looking at my body.’
‘Silly girl. You’re lovely.’
‘Should I unlace my nightie, or take it off, or did you want to do it? Tell me what you want, please.’
Rolf climbed into bed. ‘Just leave everything to me.’
‘Thank you, Rolf. Rolf, if there’s anything you want me to do, anything at all, just tell me and I’ll do it, OK?’
‘Relax.’
‘Whether it’s true or not, could you tell me that you love me?’
‘I love you, Penny.’ He wasn’t lying. At that moment, he loved her so much it almost broke his heart. Rolf leaned over her. His fingers found a stray lock of hair and lifted it from her brow. His lips traced the place it had been and drifted to her temple and down her cheek. She turned to meet his kiss with lips that were soft and yielding but not aggressive. She accepted his tongue but didn’t invade his mouth in return. He explored, tasting her, tracing her tongue with his, under and over and side-on-side. Her mouth responded by becoming wetter and opening wider. The liquor of her mouth intoxicated him. It’d been a long while since just kissing could bring him to full throbbing erection, but her kisses did. Their passive acceptance was a spur. He kissed harder, drawing her lower lip between his teeth and nipping just hard enough to make her suck in a sharp breath.
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘You know you can do anything to me, Rolf. If it hurts me, provided it pleases you, that’s fine.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘Thank you. I don’t want you to either, at least, not tonight.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Tomorrow will be another story.’
Unsure how to respond to that, Rolf let his lips trail down the side of her neck, to its crook. She shivered under him. His fingers found the trailing end of her ribbon’s bow and tugged it loose. He sat up and unlaced her nightie, working down to her waist and brushing the cotton away to each side. Penny’s lovely young breasts, that he’d once thought might fit into martini glasses, were bared for him. Perhaps he’d underestimated them. Only Trixie’s oversized cocktail glasses could have contained them.
To dismiss any thought of his wife, Rolf brushed his fingertips over one of Penny’s pale and puffy peaks.
She sighed, ‘Yes,’ and in that one word told a tale of long-pent longing.
‘May I kiss your breasts?’ he teased.
‘Don’t ever ask permission, please, Rolf. Not even tonight.’
He nibbled and sucked gently. There was something in him, something primitive that Trixie had resurrected, that wanted to bite Penny’s nipple until she whimpered for mercy. He resisted that urge.
Penny moaned and pushed up at him. He took as much breast-flesh into his mouth as would fit. His hand brushed down the cotton of her nightie and up under it. Her thighs parted for him. As he’d suspected, she was bald there, totally, without even the token patch of fuzz that her mother sported. Somehow, that made her more virginal, more vulnerable. His fingers caressed her with infinite gentleness, not parting her but persuading her to part for him.
Rolf was hesitant to explore inside her. Her maidenhead might be long gone but she’d still be sensitive and tight inside. The more aroused he made her before he penetrated her, even with a si
ngle finger, the easier it’d be for her. Keeping his weight off her, he slithered down under the bedclothes and lifted her nightie, so that he could rest his cheek on the soft smooth skin on the inside of her thigh.
She said, ‘Thank you, Rolf. For what you are about to do, thank you. I’ve dreamt of your tongue loving me, there, for more nights than you’d believe.’
Rolf had no words to describe the flood of emotion that her words inspired. His lips touched her sex. His tongue tested the slit between her pussy’s lips.
Penny threw the bedclothes aside. ‘I want to watch, please?’
He nodded.
‘Thank you, Lover.’
Hearing her call him what Trixie often did almost put him off but Penny was seeping and he could taste her and that was more powerful than any pangs of guilt. His tongue wormed into her. Penny gasped and made little encouraging wordless sounds. Rolf savoured her lemony-salt juices for a while but he knew that what a woman wants more than anything, when a tongue is on her sex, is to have her clitoris licked. He parted her gently with his little finger and his thumb. His tongue ran up and found the sensitive nub it sought. Rolf started by wagging from side to side, keeping alert for her reactions. Even with his limited experience, he’d learned that different clits enjoy different caresses. When he worked his tongue’s tip between the left side of Penny’s clit and her sex’s lip, and palpitated, her thighs twitched and her knees drew up in a spasm.
Sure that he’d found the magic spot, he persisted with that stroke and began to slide a finger into her. She was slippery but incredibly tight. Would he be able to get his cock into her without hurting her? He’d find out, soon, very soon.
Penny’s head thrashed from side to side. She gasped, ‘Yes, yes, yes.’
Rolf felt up behind her pubic bone and found her g-spot. Manipulating it was the key to making her wet, and she’d need to be very wet when he put his cock into her.
She said, ‘I want you, Rolf. I want you so much. I’m ready, please, Rolf?’
He pulled himself up the bed and looked down into her eyes. ‘Are you sure you want this?’
‘Yes, please, yes.’
‘And you want it right now?’
‘Oh God, Rolf, do me! Put it in me. I’m begging you.’
‘It might hurt.’
‘I don’t care! Make me take it!’
He decided it’d be cruel to tease her any more. His fingers took hold of his cock and guided it until its head felt the heat and the wetness. He rose up on two straight arms and pushed his hips slowly forward.
She screamed, ‘Fuck!’ and clawed down his chest with eight sharp talons.
Spurred by the sudden pain, he rammed into her. She screamed again but her legs wrapped his hips and her heels drummed on the backs of his thighs. That thrust had only taken him halfway into the strangling tightness. He jerked, three more short hard jerks, feeling as if he was violating her and that was part of the fierce pleasure.
Rolf’s wiry pubic hair ground on Penny’s soft bald mound.
She gave him an incongruously shy look. ‘I came when you entered me,’ she whispered. ‘Did you feel it?’
‘No. Sorry I missed it.’
‘I can come again. I come easy and often. Fuck me hard, Lover, and maybe you’ll feel the next one, or the one after that, or . . .’
Penny proved her boast by climaxing three more times before Rolf’s orgasm flooded into her and triggered her fifth.
‘I think I’ve had enough for tonight, Lover,’ she breathed against his heaving chest. ‘Of course, if you want to go on?’
‘I’ll let you rest,’ he told her.
Twenty-five
Rolf woke lying along the edge of the bed with guilt rising in his throat like bile. His eyes opened. There, directly in front of his face, Penny stood beside the bed. Her thighs rose slender but shapely from sheer black hose with lacy tops. Looking higher, he was confronted by her naked sex. Its outer lips were smooth but swollen, as if his ravishing had bruised them, which perhaps it had. They were divided by a very neat vertical slit that was bifurcated by the ridge of her clitoris. He hadn’t had the chance to inspect it closely, not visually, the previous night but now he saw that it was longer and thicker than her mother’s was, or than his Rachel’s had been.
His guilt was forgotten, rinsed away on a tide of lust.
‘Do you like my pussy?’ she asked.
‘Very much. You’re beautiful there – and everywhere.’
‘I’m yours, there, “and everywhere”. Whatever you want to do to me, or have me do for you, I’m ready. Last night was incredible, Rolf, and so romantic, but now I’d like us to be bad. I want us to do things normal people don’t do. Things they want to do but don’t dare.’
‘I’m not sure I know what those things would be,’ he confessed.
‘Of course you do. Men have a natural instinct.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Rolf, you have six leather belts in your closet.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes. Would you mind if I borrowed one or two?’
‘No, I don’t mind, but they’re much too long for your tiny waist, Penny.’
‘I could get a leather punch. Would it be OK if I made some more holes?’
‘Sure, but are you going to cut the extra lengths off? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just buy you some new belts?’
‘They wouldn’t be your belts. That’s the point. They have you on them. And I won’t cut them short, I promise. You’ll still be able to wear them.’
Vaguely flattered, Rolf told her, ‘Do what you like with them, Penny.’ He reached out to stroke her flank.
She shivered under his touch. I love leather, Rolf. Don’t you? The feel of it; the smell of it; the taste of it?’
‘I don’t know that I’ve ever tasted leather.’
‘I have. I stole one of your belts, about two weeks ago. I’ve kept it under my pillow since then. At night, I’ve sucked on it and I’ve rubbed myself on it, you know . . .’ She touched her fingers to her sex in case he didn’t understand.
‘You’ve been masturbating with one of my belts?’
‘Yes. Am I bad?’
‘Well, that’s certainly naughty, perhaps a bit kinky but not actually “bad”.’
‘I told you that I was a kinky little bitch, Rolf, remember?’
‘Who likes to talk dirty.’
‘Do you mind?’
‘No.’
‘In which case, your nasty little whore had better go fix you some breakfast before you take one of those belts to her bottom, hadn’t she? Something light? A toasted prune Danish, maybe?’
‘That’d be fine.’
‘Twenty-five minutes?’
‘OK.’
It took him that long to shave and shower. She’d laid clean pyjama pants and a fresh robe out for him. Rolf considered marching downstairs stark naked, just to show her that he was as uninhibited as she was. He decided that he wasn’t ready for that, not quite yet. Maybe he’d learn to be. He couldn’t have a better teacher.
Penny set his Danish down in front of Rolf and stayed standing beside him, her naked thigh touching his shoulder.
‘Aren’t you going to have one?’ he asked.
‘I’ve eaten, thanks.’
‘You aren’t going to sit down?’
‘I’m standing here in case you wanted to fondle me while you eat.’
‘Oh.’ He ran the fingers of his left hand from behind her right knee, up the length of her thigh, to cup the right cheek of her bottom and give it a loving squeeze.
‘Do you like my bum, Rolf?’
‘It’s lovely.’
‘Would you like to play with it?’
‘Play?’
‘You can do what you like to me, provided you force me, remember? Do I have to prove that I’m depraved?’
‘Perhaps you do.’
‘Then I will, this once.’ She took his left hand in both of her and folded three of its fingers into his palm. ‘Like this.’ Pen
ny pushed his extended finger into the butter on the table. Her right hand guided his fist. Her left tugged her left cheek away from her right one. She leaned forward a little and put his buttery finger to the pucker of her anus.
‘You want me to . . .?’ he asked.
‘Please.’
He expected more resistance but her sphincter yielded easily to his gentle pressure. Inside, though, she was incredibly tight and burning hot.
‘Like that?’ he asked.
‘Deeper, please?’
‘It doesn’t hurt?’
‘No. It will when you force me to bend for you and you fuck me in there, I think, but I can take your finger easily enough.’
Was she going to keep the promise Trixie had reneged on? Rolf wasn’t going to rely on that. He’d savour the forbidden pleasures as they came and not bank on what was promised, he decided.
The butter only lubricated her rectum deeply enough that his finger’s second knuckle was inside her. From there, his skin dragged on hers. She winced.
‘Enough?’
‘I want it all, Rolf. Force it, please? Force me! How many times must I tell you that’s what I want?’
He wriggled and rotated his finger, persuading her tight channel to open up for him, and applied pressure.
‘Oh fuck, Rolf, Lover, that feels so good!’
‘You really like it?’
‘Love it. Can you – you know – push it in and out?’
He abandoned his Danish, half-eaten, and wrapped his right arm around Penny’s thighs to brace her. His left fist pushed and pulled. Rolf tried to imagine the sensations his finger was enjoying, transferred to his cock. As he pushed in, it was almost like penetrating a soft and yielding solid. As he pulled, her flesh clung to him as if reluctant to let him retreat.
Penny bent over more and clawed at the table. ‘It’s even better than I thought it’d be,’ she gasped. ‘Please, may I . . .?’
