Lessons and Lovers
an erotic romance
Portia Da Costa
Copyright 2013
Please be aware that these stories contain sensual content that is only suitable for adult readers who are comfortable with frank language and descriptions of erotic scenarios. LESSONS AND LOVERS is an escapist erotic fantasy. If they existed in the real world, my characters would always use condoms.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Thank You!
About Portia
Tempted by Two - excerpt
In Sebastian's Hands - excerpt
Copyright
Chapter One
The night was humid. Damp flesh slapped and smacked as belly met belly in a savage, primeval rhythm. Sweat dripped into Hettie’s eyes and pooled in her cunt and groin. It was almost a relief when the telephone trilled.
But it wasn’t really. Not when she needed to come, and come hard. She died inside as Starr paused in the middle of a thrust and looked down at her solemnly. He was the perfect servant in her bed now, his eyes cool and shuttered. The lover had gone as if he’d never existed, and a clutch of vague, unspoken hopes had shattered in Hettie’s heart. Her body still burned, but she felt like wailing out in loss.
“Are you going to answer that, Ma’am?” His voice was as calm as a lake, his composure unruffled. Even the slide of his flesh pulling out of hers couldn’t disturb his complete sang-froid.
So detached. Even now, thought Hettie, swallowing her disappointment.
“I suppose so,” she replied, easing herself from beneath his long, golden body.
Why, oh why, did this have to happen? Who the hell was calling at this time? Didn’t they have anything better to do than destroy the first step in her recovery? Destroy her chance to…
Chance to do what, Hettie? To understand your feelings for Starr? And his for you?
What if he doesn’t have any? Other than duty and respect and loyalty. And desire, obviously.
What if, by asking him, she screwed up what she could have with him? Which was amazing sex. On demand. Whenever she wanted it.
And tonight was the first time since Piers’ death that she had wanted it. The first time her healthy woman’s body had tingled and finally come alive again. The first time she’d wanted to feel a man’s stiffness moving inside her. The long gliding stroke of a cock to make her feel she was wholly and completely female.
It had been months, and yet somehow Starr had known that tonight she’d been ready at last. Without any word or prior indication, he’d come to her bed, then silently and gracefully, he’d slid between the sheets beside her and started touching her with his unique, almost surgical precision.
Not one word had passed his lips as he’d cupped her firm breasts and delicately kneaded them. Not one sound as he’d slid his stroking hand over her flat belly and her hips. Not a murmur had he uttered. Even as his fingers had parted the lips of her sex and played in the thick, clinging moisture they’d found there. It was only as he’d pressed open her slim thighs and entered her that he’d spoken, only as he’d possessed that he’d whispered her name. Called her “Hettie”, as he only ever had done when his cock was sheathed in her body.
Her hunger had flared, that sense of being completely alive doubling and redoubling as her cunt had quickened and gripped him. She’d cried out, riding his thrusts on the crest of a great, wet wave of erotic energy.
But it had been more than just fucking, and the feelings much deeper. Her heart had leapt as her body had responded. She’d felt something fragile and beautiful unfurling that went far beyond sex. Some tenuous and unspoken emotional conduit being formed between herself and the man making love to her.
And then the bedside telephone had shattered the spell, and her fragile hopes and dreams.
“The phone, Ma’am,” he prompted.
“All right already! I’m answering it!” she snapped, the moment lost as his semen cooled on her naked thighs, “but for God’s sake, Starr, don’t make a sound!”
“Of course, Ma’am,” Starr answered mildly.
Hettie felt small and mean. She’d snarled at him without justification, in the middle of a moment that was at least physically intimate. For all his emotional impenetrability, Starr had always been gentle, caring and attentive. Both in bed and in the course of his more conventional duties. And he was glorious too! Hettie’s reborn libido stirred like a serpent in her loins as her companion levered himself up and showed her the perfect, gilded breadth of his back and the tight muscular rounds of his supremely male ass. Turning to the small bedside table, he reached for the handset and lifted it with almost supernatural quietness.
With the same almost uncanny lack of fuss, he handed it to her then slid elegantly away and sat on the edge of the bed.
Hettie scooted across the rumpled sheet and settled herself against the pillows, thankful only that her late-night caller couldn’t see her. See that she was naked and obviously fresh from sex. Her gold-blonde hair was a mess, her usually pale face and body all flushed and her eyes overbright. Her mouth was bruised from kissing and she frowned as she held the receiver close to it.
Conversation was going to be difficult. It was well-nigh impossible to think about anything but Starr and his sleek naked body. His pose was utterly relaxed, even though his cock was still glistening and stiff. His erection seemed harder than ever.
“Goddammit!” mimed Hettie, then cautiously said, “Hello?”
“Good evening,” said the smooth yet accented voice of an operator, “I have a call for Lady Henrietta Miller from Signorina Renata di Angeli in Milan. Shall I put it through?”
Renata! Oh, what now?
With Ren it could only be a crisis. Hettie shuffled her pillows against the padded headboard and stretched out her long, shapely legs in Starr’s direction. Better get comfy because this could take some time. Her foot touched a warm well-muscled thigh and she shivered involuntarily as he looked around, his expression inquiring.
“Yes, put it through, please,” Hettie said to the distant operator, but as Starr placed his fingers on her calf and smoothed them lightly up towards her knee and the creamy under-slope of her thigh, she was suddenly less interested in Renata’s latest catalog of troubles.
“Hettie! Hettie! I’m so sorry! I know it’s late and stuff but I had to talk to you!” cried a familiar voice on the phone.
“Don’t worry. I was awake anyway.” Hettie suddenly couldn’t think of a thing to say to her friend as Starr’s hand stole higher and higher in search of hotter and damper zones, “I couldn’t sleep so I was reading. But never mind me, Ren. What’s happened? Even you don’t call me in the middle of the night for nothing!”
“Oh, Hett, I’m in an awful mess! You’ve got to help me!” the distant voice wailed. “You’re the only one!”
“It’s a man, isn’t it?”
It mostly was in Renata’s case, and under normal circumstances Hettie would have listened attentively. But Starr’s long, golden hand was stroking the tender borderline between her thigh and her trembling pussy now, and each lingering pass was getting closer and closer to the place that still longed for him.
“Yes, Hett, it is! Well, two of them actually. And I’m going to lose one if I don’t get rid of the other! Well, not really, because there’s nothing between us. It’s just that Fausto won’t stay if Darryl does! Oh, Hettie, I don’t know what to do! You’re the only one who can help me!” Furious sobbing burst from the receiver as Renata succumbed to
tears in the way she so often did.
Hettie let her friend cry. Not out of cruelty, but because she felt that she might break down herself any second. Lose control and moan because her lover was kneeling between her thighs now, crouched in the space he’d created by grasping her ankles and stretching them wide apart. His own thighs bracketed his swaying erection, while his vivid blue gaze was riveted on her rudely displayed crotch.
Hettie felt herself twitch and sizzle. He was caressing her as surely with his laser-beam eyes as he did with his nimble fingers. As surely as he’d done earlier when he’d first explored the sleeping vale of her sex. After her extended celibacy since Piers’ death, she’d sensed that Starr felt he had to prepare her properly. Ready her with skill and exquisite tenderness, with a slow rhythmic rubbing across the tender membranes and the straining, swelling bud…
“Hettie! You’re not listening!” Renata cried woefully.
“Yes I am!” gasped Hettie, as Starr leaned forward and laid his long, slender-fingered hand lightly on her palpitating belly. His touch was so controlled it was barely there, yet it transferred itself directly to her open, yearning sex. Without conscious volition, her hips rose to invite him. A cry of need bubbled in her throat and she stopped it by biting her knuckle.
“Hettie!” Renata protested.
“Yes, but look, Ren, I don’t know what you’re talking about! Who are all these men?” Voice control was difficult now. Starr had a finger in the sticky, darkened mat of her pubic hair and was twirling and gently tugging, “Tell me what’s happened. Tell me it all, then maybe I can help.” She closed her eyes. Maybe she could manage to listen if she couldn’t see? See what was happening to her. See Starr’s marvelous body. His heavy but beautiful cock… His bright blue eyes boring into her as his hands made her writhe with pleasure.
“All right.” There was a sound of rustling and snuffling. Renata wrestling with tears. “I’ve been seeing this man. He’s moved into the palazzo. His name’s Fausto and it’s so good between us… Really good! I have orgasms with him, Hett, and you know how hard it is for me.”
Oh my God!
Hettie’s teeth closed harder on her knuckles as Starr pushed two fingers slowly into her. Ren can’t come and I can hardly stop myself! She remembered their no-holds-barred girlie chats, and how she’d always had to play down the fact that she could climax so easily. Especially with the man in her bed right now.
I bet Starr could bring you off, Ren! Helplessly, she jerked beneath his expert caress.
This could get to any woman. Two fingers moved wetly between her labia. Splitting around her clitoris, they teased her trembling pussy without ever touching the most crucial point of all. That he didn’t touch it was almost unbearable. It took a superhuman effort to carry on listening.
“We were getting on like a dream. I even thought… I even thought he might propose or something. And then Darryl arrived!”
“Darryl?” inquired Hettie faintly. Inside she was screaming and begging. Begging harder than Ren had ever done for anything. Ready to plead with Starr that he touch his tapered fingertip to her clitoris.
“He’s a sort of cousin of mine. Step-cousin really. I’m not sure. He’s only half Italian. He was adopted by my Uncle Alfredo, but I never knew he existed until now. They were out excavating at some archaeological dig or other and there was an accident. A slide or rockfall or something… Uncle Alfredo was killed but Darryl escaped with minor injuries. Apart from losing his memory from a knock on the head, that is. Partially… He knows who he is, but not much else. And the hospital sent him to me! I’m his only relative, they say, because Aunt Maria died years ago, and there is nobody else. He’s spent all his life in this monklike existence miles from civilization, just digging for relics and stuff with Uncle Alfredo and but now he’s got to learn to live with other people.”
Renata started sobbing again. Hettie wanted to ask what was wrong now, but at that second Starr gave in to her. He settled one finger on her clitoris, rubbed gently but firmly, and Hettie started sobbing too. Only her abused fist masked the sound. When his finger swirled, then pressed again, it was too much. Her loins churned and her sex pulsed like a heartbeat. Pleasure flared hot and sweet in her besieged clitoris, and she heard Renata wail incoherently, as if by proxy, her voice unknowingly proclaiming her friend’s orgasm.
It was a few moments before either of them could speak—for their so vastly different reasons—but as she relaxed, still panting slightly, it was Hettie who managed first. As Starr slid up to her side and took her into his arms.
“Are you all right, Ren? What’s wrong? What’s so awful about your cousin?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Renata gulped, “He’s nice, really. But he’s hanging around…looking at me all the time. As if he’s waiting for something. Waiting for me to tell him things. I don’t know. It’s as if he wants me to educate him somehow… Help him remember everything. And… I mean…”
“Mean what, Ren, what?” urged Hettie. Her own immediate turmoil over, she felt worried about her confused friend. Poor Ren had no Starr to manage her problems for her. No elegant, athletic blond servant to lie beside her, hold her glowing post-orgasmic body and smooth his sex-scented hand gently over her sweaty, tousled hair.
“It’s awkward, Hett. Darryl’s…er…twenty-two…or twenty-three, I think. But he still seems quite innocent somehow. He looks at me. You know…that sort of look! It’s as if he wants to be taught about…about sex and stuff!”
It was all wrong to laugh, but Hettie couldn’t help herself. Mirth bubbled in her throat, and sharp-eared Starr, who’d obviously heard the other woman’s shrill voice, laid his hand lightly over his mistress’s mouth to stop her giggling. She could taste herself on his fingers and her cunt twitched in response. It took several moments to suppress both amusement and desire.
Renata had a very strange dilemma.
“Sexuality goes deeper than memory, Ren. He can’t have forgotten what sex is!”
It sounded preposterous, and yet maybe there was a grain of truth in what she’d just said. For so long she’d felt neutered by her own grief. Both physically and emotionally. Mourning Piers, she’d forgotten what lust felt like and her feelings had been bound up, as if in a closed box. She, who’d always lusted and laughed and had so much love to give. Maybe this unknown Darryl had also been traumatized like that?
Ren’s next words confirmed her theory.
“Oh he has! I’m sure he has! And I wouldn’t mind telling him things. Being kind of like an aunt or something. But Fausto won’t have it! He doesn’t want Darryl around, and he certainly doesn’t want me giving him sex education lessons!”
She fell silent and Hettie got an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Starr’s barely perceptible nod said he was coming to the same conclusions as she was.
“Ren? What’s all this leading up to?” It was a pointless question. Any idiot could work out what was coming next.
“Well, Fausto’s cleared off and he says he’s not coming back until Darryl’s out of the palazzo.” She paused, and though Hettie couldn’t see her, she knew her friend was gathering herself, “I was wondering if Darryl could come and stay with you a while? I know it’s a bad time. But maybe some different company would be good for you! You must be lonely in that great big place all on your own. Oh, I know there’s Starr. But he’s so… Well, he’s so sort of formal, and detached, and hung up on mistress and servant protocol and stuff, isn’t he?”
Hettie looked up. Starr was leaning over her now, his face as calm as ever, his chiseled but generous mouth curving in the faintest of smiles. He eased a lock of hair from her brow, then smoothed the whole long, damp golden mass of it reverently across the pillow. His mouth touched hers, kissing her slightly off-center to avoid the telephone. His fingers closed on her breast, felt the hard-peaking nipple then tensed slightly. Hettie knew, with a shiver of delight, that he’d soon be inside her again.
How does this fit into mistress an
d servant protocol? she wondered for perhaps the thousandth time, feeling a breath-catching twist in her heart that was dangerously unrelated to the sex.
“What do you think, Hett?” persisted Renata, dissolving the fleeting thought, “Can Darryl come and stay with you? He’s quiet, but he’s actually quite charming in his own way. And he speaks perfect English. Really! And you’ve got all those filthy books in Piers’ collection that he can read. He can do his learning and his sex revision from them, can’t he?”
There was desperate hope in Renata’s voice, and Hettie looked to Starr for help. Only if he approved, would she take in Ren’s shy charmer. Her cool blond servant regarded her steadily for a few seconds, then took her hand and kissed it. When he looked up again, he nodded.
“Okay, Ren! He can stay for a while.”
“Oh, thank you, Hett! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you! I knew you’d help me!”
“All right! Don’t go overboard! Just one thing, though.” Starr was kissing her again now, his lips warm and drifting on her bare, rounded breast. “Can the arrangements wait until tomorrow? I’m…um… Well, I’m starting to actually feel quite drowsy now and I’d like to get some sleep.” It was a white lie, but she was entitled to it.
She gnawed her lip as Starr sucked roughly at her nipple, biting it slightly. She couldn’t talk to Ren much longer, not while this beautiful torture was going on! There was no way she could suppress the screams of another orgasm.
“Oh yes, of course! Everything will be fine now!” Ren’s voice was buoyant, “I’ll call Fausto. He’ll come back when he knows Darryl’s leaving. Everything will be wonderful now! Thanks again, sweetheart, you’ve saved my life. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye, Hett! Sleep tight!”
“Goodnight, Ren!” said Hettie on a long broken gasp. As the connection died, Starr’s fingers slid back between her sticky thighs. And the magic torment began all over again.
Dropping the lifeless receiver, Hettie tried to caress his sex in return, but he guided her hand away before she could even lay one finger on his stiffness.
Lessons and Lovers Page 1
