by JJ Giles
“That picture will go to the presidential museum,” she protested.
“And I’m telling you now.” His finger stabbed at the air to punctuate his coming statement. “Alex and I won’t be seeing you at weddings or funerals and you can be pretty well assured that if I’m not there, Bryant won’t be, either. So all this historical preservation you want to make a career of, you can shove up your ass. I’ll be dropping out.”
Glowering, she studied Jerry a moment and then turned her menacing stare on Alex. Only slowly, it returned to Jerry. “And Morgan and Cherry? And Morgan and Bryant? And Morgan and you? You and Alex?”
“Are none of your fucking business, and no, you won’t be invited to that wedding.” Defensively, he wrapped his arm tightly around Alex and pulled him close. “If my daughter wants to take off her clothes for every jerk-off rag in the industry, it’s none of your business. If I’m screwing my daughter-in-law and she’s screwing another half dozen people because it’s her job, it’s none of your business. So I suggest you pick yourself up and dust your own ass off before you start throwing stones. You ought to be more concerned about what your six previous husbands are putting out there and your current husband, who has fucked everyone but the Queen herself. Maybe your next three husbands should be in your age range instead of your kid’s. And maybe you can figure out what you can do to polish the family’s image since you wanna be such a big part of it.”
Simply boiling, it seemed as if her very skin began to crawl.
“Honey, Dad had a lot of skeletons...and I do mean skeletons...he tried to keep from rattling out of the closets, too. The fact is, the only reason I had to marry Cheryl was to keep her around so he could have her. It had nothing to do with Brian, and it cost him a fortune in payoffs. Maybe you ought to get a job,” was his final advice. Then he turned to Alex and offered, “Last dance?”
“My pleasure,” Alex cooed. He was quite satisfied that Jerry had broken the last of their father’s fetters.
With only the stars overhead, the air cool to cure their flushed flesh, Jerry took Alex into his arms. To the feel of Alex’s head on his shoulder, he whispered, “We’ve never done this before.” But Alex was lost in it already, Jerry’s arms so tightly around him, the music soft and soothing. He peered over the expanse to see Cherry demand a final kiss from her uncle as her aunt tried to drag the man away.
He turned from it, swaying lazily, a little delirious with too much champagne. Too much love. Only the hand on his shoulder interrupted his contentment.
“Room for me?” Cherry said, bubbling.
They parted to embrace her and move her to the rhythm. “Are we having fun yet?” Jerry sneered.
“I’m having some serious fun tonight. That no-count sister of yours never changes, does she? But the truth is I’ve been away from home way too long, Daddy. Really...do you think you could find someone else to run the resort?”
“You’re serious about this?”
Eagerly, she nodded. “So serious that I spoke to Brian about it. He mentioned something about me using my business degree to do something besides party. Something about me being his new webmaster. Which means I’d have to live on my trust fund for awhile, if you don’t mind.”
Pleasantly surprised and delighted, Jerry smiled at Alex. “A real family business,” he whispered.
“It sounds wonderful,” Alex mewed. “I’m very excited.”
“Then it’s settled,” Jerry said. “We’ll start construction on the corporate offices and new retail center as soon as the architects are finished with the plans. That means you’ll be the general manager and the webmaster until we get things going.”
“This is exciting,” she cried. She began to bounce. “A for-real family business, not some overblown conglomeration where nobody knows anybody else. And we do pretty things...filled with romance. Wonderful.” Totally elated, she hugged them tightly and kissed them both passionately. “And Morgan said she might be able to use me in her work once of a while. Well, let’s go see what other trouble I can stir up before everyone falls down drunk. Where’s that little whore, Renee?” She turned and ran.
Jerry fell to a soft, amused laughter and gathered Alex back into his arms. “I love you, Alex Abernathy,” he whispered. His very erect penis forced into Alex’s hip. “I’m ready for bed.”
“Jerry,” Alex breathed. “Now, if you please.”
* * * *
Brian carried his bride over the threshold and took her straight to the master suite. The candles were already burning on stands, on tables, the fire light flickering from sconces on the wall to cast a lovely shadow over the white satin sheets covered in a blanket of black rose petals.
Gently, he placed Morgan on the floor to kiss her passionately. His fingers dusted over the intricate cutwork around her breasts. “I rather hate taking this dress off you.”
“Go slow,” she breathed.
His mouth sucked the tongue out of hers that he might feast on it as his fingers removed the laces from behind her. His fingers slid under the chains and let the dress swirl to the floor. That was enough. Gently, he laid her on the bed, her arms still covered in leather, her feet still in the shoes, the diamonds still at her throat.
Nestled comfortably between her legs, he removed his Master’s clamp, releasing a scent filled with lust. Without hesitation, he buried his face there to lap up the moisture brewing for him. Her nails swirled over his scalp in indelicate circles to infuriate him further, to make him want to pounce.
His shirt now gone, he opened his pants, his tongue crawling up her body like the trail of a snake. By the time he reached her ear, the trousers were gone, his weight pressing her to the bed. “Say it again, baby,” he breathed.
She giggled; she bit down on his ear. “Mr. Morgan McCrory McFaye,” she breathlessly.
Instantaneously, his power collected between her legs and drove into her like a sledge.
* * * *
How many years? Alex wondered as the silver gown swirled to the floor that he might step out of it. He took off the wig and stepped into the shower only briefly, enough to wash inside and out quickly. The softest hint of Jerry’s favorite Chanel was dabbed in the most effective places and combed into the fur between his legs.
Wearing only the black lace robe of a negligée, he tiptoed down the hallway, his heart fluttering uncontrollably. Thirty-seven miserable years he had waited for this. And now...
The door was left ajar because he was expected. Gently he pushed it opened to find the shimmering light of hundreds of candles dancing on the delicate breeze rising up from the garden. With the covers on the bed laid back, a single rose lay on a pillow, while thousands of red rose petals were strewn on the white satin sheet and around the bed.
The very air was tinted with romance, the kind of romance he only remembered and hadn’t experienced since. As he stood to drink it in, the lilting of a single violin on the porch wafted through the open door. Another joined in its plea, the longing within it almost heartbreaking. A viola picked up the harmony and melted into the very ambiance, the shimmering affection already displayed.
Just then the door of the bathroom opened and Jerry moved steadily to the champagne bucket to open the bottle. He held the glasses between his fingers and filled them, returning the bottle to the bucket and capturing Alex’s stare.
Instantly, the years melted away. Alex ceased to breath to watch Jerry move toward him. The heat in Jerry’s stare, the strength in Jerry’s body conspired against him. The insistence in Jerry’s lips as they brushed over his and he fell forward into Jerry’s tender embrace.
“Marry me,” Jerry whispered in his ear.
“Oh, God,” Alex gasped. Stricken by the thought, his arms wound around Jerry’s body. “Yes,” Alex whispered to the feel of Jerry’s lips on his. “But how...?”
The question was cut short by a sturdy finger on Alex’s lip. His smooth hand was captured by Jerry’s and he was led to the bed and placed upon it. The violins outside slid ove
r the terrain of longing as Jerry perched beside him and the crystal chimed to seal it with a kiss.
“How?” Alex whispered.
“There’s actually a place in the world where you and I can be married, legally,” Jerry said affectionately. “We’ll have to petition the Prince for a license.”
“Prince?”
Jerry smiled. “I’ll take care of everything.” As if he’d never tasted it before, he sipped the champagne.
“Yes,” Alex said filled with wonder. Drinking down the vision of his lover, the only creature in the world he could ever truly love, he breathed, “I can’t believe it but yes, yes.”
Jerry placed the glasses on the table and then stretched long beside Alex. Ah, it was there, that scent so filled with the mystery of this creature, and he smiled. So much had changed, yet so much hadn’t, and he opened the robe, nuzzled his cheek to the carefully trimmed down around that penis. But his desire couldn’t be contained, and he opened his mouth and swallowed that lovely throbbing organ.
Chapter Twelve
It was her dream, her fantasy and Morgan was in the midst of it. Her arms were forced behind her back tightly enough to pull the shoulders from the sockets, the leather bit between her teeth to keep her from chewing on her tongue. Her husband wrapped around her, holding her upright, the profusion of breasts spilling from his hands.
The needles aimed at her nipples were short, but thin and sharp. The moment seemed to draw out needlessly long as Renee, Randi, whomever, merely held there, ready to pierce her flesh and fill it with a warmth she hadn’t known existed. A tingling heat, a devouring flame.
She saw the slightest flinch of his wrists and watched as she was penetrated. Her head fell back against her husband as she grasped his penis, the better to retain consciousness, the better to encounter that shivering delight head on. Uninhibited flame coursed through her breasts, opening blood vessels, refilling an emptiness she never knew existed.
Gently, she was placed on the floor, her legs folded under her, set aside to watch. Her husband’s voice rose behind like the Wrath of God, a bellowing that vibrated in the stark discipline room.
Their guest ripped the cloth from his body as if his clothes had suddenly caught fire. He stood before her husband, his head bowed, his hands behind his back and shook violently. The breasts Brian spoke of were indeed breasts, huge nipples dappled in the finest of down. But the penis was more than she expected, very erect, a little curved, and it sported her favorite shade of purple.
“You don’t ever come to me looking like this again,” Brian snarled as he grasped a few hairs on the balls and yanked them out. Their guest cried out, yet Brian snagged a few hairs from an areolae. “You’re a fucking mess,” Brian screamed. “On the bench.”
Awed, Morgan stared wantonly, unaware of the saliva dripping from her mouth. Inside, Brian smiled, Renee so utterly attuned to what he wanted that even the space of a decade hadn’t dulled Renee’s desire. Renee lay down on the narrow bench and Brian sat down on her stomach only to divide her legs positioned only feet from Morgan so that Morgan could better see.
Quite roughly, Brian raised Renee’s legs and hooked them behind his elbows. His hands stroked the firm flesh of the ass, all the while watching Morgan watch him. He parted the anus with a finger, and then grasped the balls to knead them forcefully, the body under him writhing with his attentions. He held the penis and pointed it at her a moment only to stroke it a few times, all the while kneading the balls.
She watched as his finger disappeared, and then returned pleasantly moistened to drive deep into the rectum.
Renee cried out, but it only stroked Brian’s fury. He lifted the balls, the better to let Morgan see the opening dripping with moisture, ready to be taken. Her tongue, hopelessly trapped by the bit, tried desperately to lick at her dry lips. Only then, did Brian produce a syringe of his own.
Rather rudely, he dropped the balls to once again hide the vaginal opening and grasped the penis and lay it back to expose the root. A drop of fluid glistened on the end of the needle only a moment before it was driven into that place, releasing a scream of penetrating terror.
“You fucking pussy,” Brian shouted her down, as he grasped the organ between both hands and rolled it like dough, the elixir created in his father’s labs a harmless draught of fire. He rolled it hard, forcing the fluid to the glans, the heat inside now penetrating his hands. And then quickly he rose, shoved Renee off the bench and grabbed a whip.
Morgan fell to a swoon, a truly Zen experience to be so outside of herself, so intent on the happenings around her. Brian glanced her way, noted the widening puddle of fluid collecting between her knees. Yet he beat that sweet little ass all the way around the room until their guest bumped into her.
“Get the hell away from her, she’s mine,” his voice full of fire and brimstone.
Brian continued with the thrashing until Renee managed to bump into the Catherine wheel and drag her worthless ass up to be strapped to it.
* * * *
Hours later, Renee was strapped to a bondage rack, hopelessly bound in rope, exhausted, her entire body—all but the penis—exceedingly limp. Only then did Brian go to Morgan and pick her up off the floor. Gently, he removed the bit from her mouth, the better to keep her from drooling, release her arms the better to steady herself.
He led her to the bondage rack and instructed her to straddle the whore restrained there.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto a poker fresh from the fire. “Mouse,” she gasped to feel it burning into her.
“Don’t you fucking spill into my woman,” Brian roared as a crop contacted a nipple and raised a welt there. Even that fire she needed now, and her hands went to those breasts to crush the nipples between her thumbs and hands.
“Have at it, baby.” And then he went for a drink.
She merely swirled her hips, the better to sense the urgency in the penis within her. He would come anyway, she would come, whatever, but it wasn’t until Brian returned to her, straddled the rack and sat down on the face of their guest that she could smell the scent trapped between Brian’s legs, soaked into the tightest black leather pants she’d ever seen on any dom.
Brian shoved Morgan’s hands away from the breasts. “Your ass, please,” as he perched his cold glass on one and crushed the other with a hand. The moaning of the victim only stroked her desire and she held that penis to her orifice, the muscles in her legs clenched tight to hold her upright.
Slowly, she descended, swallowing it bite by bite. An inferno raged within her, the weapon of a man impaling her emptiness. Her breath came in short, undiluted gasps filled with wanton lust as her fingers divided her lips and went for the kill.
Brian held her breasts, unwilling to let them be damaged as she bucked wildly. His spirit, his salvation, his playmate, his lover, and her voice rose in chorus with Renee’s as together they shuddered, Brian much satisfied to be her Golden retriever.
Before he could care about Renee, he moved forward and draped Morgan’s spread legs over his. Enfolding her in his arms, he licked, bit softly on that thick lower lip still shuddering with the vibrations of orgasm. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, only that she might come even closer and he could feel the heat trapped in her breasts against his naked chest. How satisfied he was to the feel of her arms locked around him.
Dutifully, Brian untied the victim and threw her over his shoulder to take her to the cleaning room. Quite roughly, he dropped Renee on the massage table and inserted the nozzles, but he watched Morgan. Morgan, who stood against the wall so seductively, her hands behind her back, a knee bent to hold her foot to the wall, her smile as broad as his, knowing she was totally turned on.
“Did you get everything you want, Baby?”
She licked at her lips. “Not entirely,” as her vision tripped away from him to stare at the flaccid penis he handled.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want,” impossible to tear her eyes away from hi
s attentions to that penis.
“Oh, shit,” Randi cried, knowing he was caught in the middle of a game now, wanting more himself. “Darling, you really must beg. And do it with tears, please.”
But Morgan only grinned, understanding now that’s what Brian wanted. Who could hold out the longest would be the new venue for play.
Rather than cry uncle, she slithered toward the table and took the offered penis from her husband’s hand to stroke it softly.
“Oh, for shit’s sake,” Renee cried simply exasperated. “C’mon, baby, fuck me,” as she grasped Brian’s erect organ through the pants.
Silently, Morgan laughed and slid her finger into that cunt as the other lay over Renee’s mouth to shut her up. That pleasantly moistened finger stroked the fur under Brian’s nose.
“Nope,” he said drawing in Renee’s scent. Yet he plumped the breasts on the body on the table, squeezed a little more fury into the nipples to titillate her.
“Nope,” she mewed even as she stared.
“Fuck me,” Renee hissed affectedly, beginning to enjoy this little game.
* * * *
Dinner was still a few hours from being served and Alex lay lazily in Jerry’s arms on the veranda, clutched to the diamonds on his finger. A very nude Kitty lay in Cherry’s lap, a pair of lovely breasts in Cherry’s hands. Another nude, exquisite enough to rival Michelangelo’s David, stretched long beside Bryant, wearing only a choke chain around his neck.
“I really do like this place,” Cherry commented.
“No shit,” Bryant agreed heartily. “I may have to permanently rent a room here.”
