“It’s better, Sylvie,” he whispered brokenly, “better than fucking a man, because you’re doing it. I’d rather have this dildo with your hand guiding it than any cock, I don’t care whose.”
“Edmund,” Sylvie breathed, overcome with tenderness at his confession. “I love doing this to you. I’ve dreamt about it, about watching you, listening to you, pleasuring you in such a decadent fashion.” She leaned over and licked a patch on his lower back that was glistening with sweat. It was salty and she savored the taste of him. She glided the dildo in and out, varying the depth and speed of her thrusts, keeping Edmund on the cusp of his release, toying with him, and he moaned with pleasure. The muscles of his back and buttocks quivered with tension as he anticipated each new penetration.
Sylvie basked in her control over him, knowing his pleasure waited on her whim. It was a heady experience, and one she planned to enjoy often now that they’d crossed this line together. Never before she met Edmund could Sylvie have imagined doing the things she and he did. Every time he touched her she craved the basest desires, and he fulfilled them gladly. She realized that she had been an empty vessel waiting to be filled, and Edmund had come and poured passion and desire into her until she overflowed.
Suddenly Edmund pulled away roughly, the dildo sliding out of him. He groaned as it popped free, and Sylvie was mesmerized by his glistening entrance, crying out for her to fill it again. She reached for him, but Edmund stopped her.
“No, Sylvie. We are going to fuck each other now. I need you. I need my cock in your sweet cunny when I come. It’s been so long, love.”
Edmund watched Sylvie move as if in a trance, lying down on the bed and spreading her legs for him. She still held the dildo, shining with the oil they’d applied, and a shiver chased up his spine. It had felt so good to have her fuck him like that. Never had it felt that good before. Knowing his sweet Sylvie was wielding the instrument of his pleasure was so arousing that when she’d first penetrated him he’d almost come on the spot. Listening to her moans of pleasure as she humped against his buttocks with each thrust had pushed him closer to the edge than he’d ever been without falling off. Only sheer willpower had let him last this long.
He moved between her legs and reached down, spreading the lips of her sex delicately with his thumbs. She was wet and hot, swollen with need, her ruffled inner lips red with arousal. She was as close as he from fucking him. He closed his eyes against the surge of lust that went through him. On their next trip to London he was buying a two-sided dildo, so Sylvie could fuck herself and him at the same time. God, she was going to love it. He smiled at her wolfishly.
“Was there ever a man as lucky as I, wife? To have a woman who nearly comes from fucking him in the arse?”
Sylvie’s face, flushed with passion, got redder as she blushed. “I liked it,” she said softly, the understatement making Edmund laugh outright.
He nodded, still chuckling. “Yes, I noticed.”
Sylvie smiled shyly at him and opened her arms, beckoning him. He lowered himself onto her, their hips meeting first, his cock stretched up along her wet slit, her juices coating him in seconds. He closed his eyes with a gasp. It felt so bloody good. “Sylvie,” he moaned, unsure if she was ready for him. After so many months of abstinence, he didn’t want to hurt her.
“Fuck me, Edmund,” she whispered, surging against him, “now.”
He needed no further encouragement. He raised his hips and slipped a hand between them to position his cock, and then he slid smoothly inside her. It was clear immediately that she was tight, as tight as the first time he’d fucked her on the floor of her solar. He had to fight for every inch he pushed inside her, and Sylvie arched her back and moaned as he did it.
“Yes, Edmund, yes, darling,” she panted, “more. Give it all to me.”
Her words sent a fire through his blood and he rammed home, hilting his cock, snug in her smoldering heat and drowning wetness. She felt so amazing, gloving every inch of his thick, hard cock like wet silk. Sylvie cried out softly as he seated himself deep within her with three or four short, hard strokes, until his balls rested against her. He could barely draw breath, the tightness of her strangling him.
“Fuck, Sylvie, fuck,” he moaned, unable to put a coherent thought together.
Sylvie laughed breathlessly, her hands coming up to rest on his waist. She still held the dildo, its slippery length against him, and he knew what he wanted.
“Fuck me again, Sylvie,” he panted, pulling out and sliding forcefully back into her depths with a shudder that she matched. “Fuck me while I fuck you.” He pulled his knees up a little, clasping an arm around her waist and raising her with him. She reached down and blindly ran the dildo down his crack, trying to find his entrance. Edmund groaned. “Down a little more, just a little.” Then she hit the mark and thrust it home, the burn of the dildo’s quick, hard penetration making Edmund see stars.
He became aware again as Sylvie let out a strangled scream. He was fucking her hard and deep, his cock pistoning in and out as she just held on, held the dildo inside him and let his own motions move it in and out. Her legs were wrapped around his thighs, and his arse was clenching the dildo tight, each thrust of his hips driving the jade in, and then driving his cock into Sylvie. It was one of the most amazing rides he’d ever had.
“Christ yes, Sylvie,” he panted, fucking her and the dildo ruthlessly. “God, it feels so good, don’t let go, Sylvie, don’t let go.” He wasn’t sure if he meant of him or the dildo, and didn’t care. Neither one was acceptable right at the moment.
Sylvie moaned and he looked down to see her eyes closed as she bit her lip to keep her screams inside, pushing her sweet cunt against him, rubbing her clitoris on him with each thrust. God, she could fuck. He felt his balls pull up. No! It was too soon, too soon! But even as he despaired he rode the wave of anticipation and pleasure, his skin quivering with tension, every muscle taut with his impending orgasm.
“I’ve got to come, Sylvie, God,” he gasped, and Sylvie thrust the dildo deep in his ass and his world exploded around him. He felt the intoxicating burn of his semen as it raced up and out of his cock into Sylvie’s waiting, shivering depths and she froze for a moment and then flew apart in his arms, crying his name. They thrust against one another desperately, each holding the other deep, Edmund’s cock jerking inside her at the same time his hole clenched tight on the dildo and the dual sensations rocked him to his core. He cried her name, hung his head as the waves of pleasure rode him. Sylvie gasped and trembled beneath him, holding him tightly, her hand still pressing the dildo deep, not forgetting his pleasure in the maelstrom of her own.
When it was over, when he could think and breathe again, he looked down at Sylvie. She was panting, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy pink, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at him. “Am I the only one seeing stars?” she asked with breathless wonder. Edmund started to laugh, but it turned into a groan as Sylvie pulled the dildo out of his thoroughly fucked arse. She started to laugh until he did the same to her, pulling his cock out of her well-pleasured cunt.
They groaned together as Edmund fell to the bed beside Sylvie. He reached a trembling hand out and took the dildo, tossing it to the end of the bed. They’d deal with that later. He didn’t think he could walk right now—perhaps not for a week, actually. Sylvie rolled over and snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder and an arm and a leg draped possessively over him.
“Oh, Edmund,” she sighed, “I’m so glad I found you.”
Edmund looked down at her and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Really? Well, Madame James, it certainly took you long enough to realize it.”
Sylvie just smiled dreamily and rubbed a hand over his chest, grazing his nipples, still very sensitive, as she smoothed round and round. Edmund arched his neck, the pleasure almost painful. But then, that’s how he liked it sometimes. With a bottom aching from a good fuck, and a cock still leaking, he was a man well-contented.
Sylvie spoke sof
tly, and he instinctively tightened his hold on her. “I was waiting, Edmund, my whole life for you, but when you showed up, you weren’t what I’d been waiting for.”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head tenderly, her unbound hair soft against his lips. “What? You weren’t waiting for a lascivious, charming vicar? Why ever not?”
Sylvie’s laugh was a soft breath against his chest, making him shiver.
Edmund turned on his side so Sylvie’s head rested on his arm, her face turned up to his. He leaned down and kissed her, at first tenderly, but as usual with Sylvie, the kiss turned hot and hungry within moments. He would never tire of the taste of her, sweet and dangerously alluring, and all Sylvie. He hummed deep in his chest in approval and felt Sylvie smile against his lips as her tongue gave his a last flick and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, letting go with a pop.
Edmund rested his forehead against hers, his breathing once again shallow. “What did you mean, my love, that I wasn’t what you were waiting for?”
Sylvie pressed her entire length against him, wriggling her hips until they were tucked into his as her lips tucked into the curve of his neck. “I thought that when I married again, it would be to an older gentleman. One who was kind and settled in his ways, and my life would go on much as it had before. And then I would die.”
“What?” Edmund exclaimed, pulling his head back to stare at Sylvie in astonishment.
Sylvie sighed. “I thought I was old, Edmund, and getting older. I know I felt old beyond my years. When you first came I thought my desire for you was sinful, that of a lecherous old woman for a beautiful young man, so full of life and vigor.” She paused and licked her lips and she traced a teasing circle around his nipple, watching it pucker for her. “But before long, I felt young and vital and alive, and so full of passion. In your eyes I saw what you saw, a beautiful woman discovering her passion with you, for you. You made me young and beautiful again, Edmund.” She shook her head. “No, not again—for the first time. I married an old man, too young.” She looked up at him with eyes shining with tears. “I loved Christopher, but not like this. As his companion, I grew old with him. I never had a chance to be young and in love.” She kissed him softly and slowly, a promise of the desire he could see burning in her eyes. “Thank you, my love, for being the young man I was waiting for.”
At her words Edmund couldn’t leave his lady waiting anymore. He showed her again and again how very much this young man loved her in return.
The End
Part II
The Debutante
Chapter 1
Dominic, Viscount Lethbridge, eased out the open door of the ballroom onto a terrace that was almost as crowded as the dance floor. He vowed, again, that this was the last time his mother would talk him into attending one of these god-awful marriage-market affairs. The unattached females and their predatory mamas made this quite possibly the most dangerous place in England for an eligible, titled male. He looked around for Jeremy Benford, his best friend since their school days and a frequent partner in Dom’s sexual misadventures. Knowing Benford, he’d managed to escape out here at least half an hour ago, with a toothsome widow no doubt.
Several young ladies grouped together at one end of the terrace turned in his direction with gleaming eyes and bashful snickers and Dom made a hasty retreat down the stairs into the garden, taking the first path he saw into the shrubbery. Thank God Lord Merwell a forest of trees back here to hide in. He’d look for Benford from there.
Once in the trees Dom searched the visible terrace for his friend to no avail. The trees followed the line of the house, and Dom rounded the corner to the side of the building. There were several lamps burning there, and another door from the ballroom. As Dom watched, a small figure furtively snuck out the door and then leaned back against the wall. It was a woman, a girl actually from the look of her plain white gown, one of the debutantes. Was she meeting someone? A young man, perhaps, for an assignation? Dom smiled in anticipation. He liked watching almost as much as participating.
Suddenly the figure stood away from the wall in alarm, the tense lines of her body telling Dom something was wrong. It was then the voices carried to him. Someone was coming. In the blink of an eye the girl ran from the house into the trees, several yards away from Dom.
He stood perfectly still, not wanting to reveal himself. His reputation was such that a virginal young lady of quality would probably swoon to find herself alone in the woods with him. He could see her more clearly now, and wondered if her white dress would give her away to the small group of young men spilling out the door.
She was pretty in an unconventional way. A little plump with large breasts, not at all the fashion, but Dom liked it on her. She looked as if she’d be a soft, pleasant ride. She’d seemed smaller when she came out the door, but on closer inspection she came to his shoulder at least. Her hair looked dark in the shadows of the trees, absorbing the wan moonlight that filtered through the leaves and reflecting it back as a shimmering gleam. That gleam intrigued him. What color was it? He liked brunettes, liked to see their long dark hair spread across the bed as he fucked hard into them, the contrast of dark hair and white sheets arousing.
He surprised himself with the thought. He never fantasized about these virginal little debutantes. It was an exercise in futility. They were too well guarded, and more often than not too ignorant of men to satisfy his fantasies. So why this one? She had intrigued him the moment she snuck out the door. He could barely discern her features in the dark, and yet he found his cock hard imagining fucking her in a room lit by moonlight, that same gleam in her hair as it streamed across his bed.
The girl quietly turned so her back was against the tree and Dom saw her bite her fist, as if she were holding something back. Words? Tears? He realized it was a reaction to what the young bucks were saying. He turned eyes narrowed with displeasure on the group and began to listen to their inebriated chatter.
“The Welliston chit? Good God, man, that would be like fucking a little piglet!” The comment was followed by raucous laughter all around.
“A fucking piglet stuffed with money,” another voice drawled, eliciting more laughter. “She can squeal for me if it means paying off the duns.”
“Did you see that horrendous dress? So plain.” Disgust laced the comment, and Dom saw the dandified little bastard who’d spoken fluff the overwhelming waterfall of his cravat.
“Again, style means nothing. She may wear whatever she likes in the country as she oversees my estate while I’m in London.” The same voice drawled again, clearly indicating to his fellows his interest in the girl, or her money anyway.
“But to fuck her? Really, Chauncey, could you? I might actually find myself unable to perform for the first time in my life. She tried to talk to me of books! Can you countenance it? And that nose.” Dom could almost see the boy shiver in horror.
The one named Chauncey laughed. “One cunt is as good as another in the dark, gentlemen. And as a wife, she’d expect no more than a poke once a month until she is with child. I daresay the faster I get on with it the happier we shall both be. Then I shall go my way and leave her to go hers.”
Their voices faded as they moved in the door. Dom turned again to watch the girl. He was on the verge of going to her, to comfort her he knew not how, when she straightened from the tree. He watched as she smoothed her hair in its simple chignon, and then smoothed her skirts with the same motion. He could actually see her shoulders move as her back stiffened. It was as if she prepared for battle. When she turned to go back inside he finally saw her face. Finely arched brows, tilted eyes, a long nose curiously flat, and perhaps crooked? She held her lower lip between her teeth, drawing his eyes to her large mouth and full lips. She was exceptional. There was nothing ordinary about her, and as he watched her walk stiff-legged back into the ballroom, her face composed, he wanted her as he had not wanted anyone for a very long time.
The next day in Dom’s study, Jeremy Benford stared at
Dom as if he’d lost his mind. “Are you mad? You must be mad.”
Before he could answer Ben, the other man spoke again. “Do you know anything else beside the fact that she’s a virgin?”
Dom thought for a moment. “Actually, I don’t know that. I’m assuming she’s a virgin because she was wearing the white uniform of a debutante.” Ben snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. “But I think her family name is Welliston. That is, if that group of pups was talking about her. And I think they were. So there you are.”
Ben fell back onto a chaise, his head dramatically held in his hands. “Good lord, Dom, a debutante! Are you mad?”
“You’ve already asked me that, Benford. No, I am not mad. She’s going to be good, I’m sure of it.”
Dom watched his best friend open his eyes and look at him incredulously. Ben was beautiful, everyone said so. He was tall, muscular, with hair the color of old guineas and eyes the blue of the sea, or at least that’s what Dom had heard someone say once. It sounded better than blond and blue. What made Ben so attractive to Dom, however, was his appetite for life. Dom tended to be rather dour and cautious when left to his own devices. Ben wouldn’t allow it. Ben also shared women with him on a regular basis. The two men had very similar sexual tastes, and Dom had no intention of giving him up, or the pastimes they enjoyed together. That was why he was determined to enlist Ben’s aid in finding the exceptional Miss Welliston.
“Describe her again.” Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“She was about as tall as my shoulder, with dark hair, and she was voluptuous, with lush breasts. She had a fine pair of eyes, tilted up at the corners, and I think her nose has been broken at some point. Also, she had the mouth of a siren, large, with full lips.”
“And her name might be Welliston.” Ben sounded wearily resigned.
When Love Comes Calling: Two Short Stories Page 7
