He was fighting it. Always having been strong for her, she guessed that giving in like this was alien to his independent and dominant nature. But she would have this! She would have him climax at her touch, at her command. Slipping her free hand around his back, she pressed one finger, then two into his anus. He was relaxed, his sexual focus elsewhere, and she was able to slide in deeply and easily.
She felt him buck against her, both in shock and in pleasure, and she drew as hard on his tongue as she could and twisted and waggled her fingers.
With his tongue thrashing in her mouth, she caressed the inside of his rectum and within seconds his cock pulsed heavily and semen spurted out of its tip. Hettie made a fist around his glans and contained the rich and luscious fluid in the cradle of her fingers. It was hers, just as he was hers, and neither would ever escape her again.
As his shaking body stilled and he stood up straight between her possession of his cock and his anus, Hettie lowered her mouth and kissed the hard-packed muscle of his chest.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said quietly as she released him and gave him back his power. Or at least some of it.
“I haven’t finished with you, mister,” she murmured as she stepped back and began to undress herself. “Lie down over there,” she said, pointing to a slight hollow in the turf some few feet away, a moss-lined indentation which would make a perfect natural bed for them.
With a grace that took her breath away, he complied, placing his body like some ancient Greek athlete or god, the glorious lines of his limbs as acutely desirable to her as the cock that was already regaining its stiffness.
It took her just thirty seconds to shuck off her own clothes and lie down beside him. He reached for her immediately, his fingers temptingly warm and sure, but she rolled just out of his reach.
“No, no. Not yet,” she whispered, kneeling up and coming over him again, holding down his hands as she let her mouth taste what her fingers had already pleasured. Her hair curtained down over his thighs as she took the head of his cock between her lips.
She didn’t suck hard. A quick flood of semen wasn’t what she wanted. Licking him very gently, she simply said “hello again” to the bloated tip of him and prodded her tongue gently into the tiny slit.
His cry—”Oh God!”—was barely out of his mouth when she backed off again and sent her lips on a voyage of discovery—a slow, slow exploration of every part of him that enchanted her. In the filtered, piebald light of their forest bedchamber, she set out to kiss every inch of his long, golden body.
For a full half an hour, she caressed him with her mouth. She licked and nuzzled and tasted, covering the whole of the front of him with silky wet kisses, then making him turn over so she could continue her adoration across his back, his buttocks and his anus. When she kissed him there, probing wickedly with her tongue, she thought she’d gone too far. He groaned loudly, his thighs and torso shaking as if he were about to orgasm violently. But then, with what seemed like a supreme effort of will, he steadied his body and calmly accepted her tongue.
As she pulled away, and then pushed at his shoulder to turn him over again, Hettie knew that the time for teasing was over. Knowing it was ever her fate, she lay back on the moss, opened her wet thighs wide and touched a forefinger to her flowing sex in silent invitation.
Starr lay beside her for a few seconds, as if gathering himself, then slowly and with great elegance, he moved across and slotted himself effortlessly between her legs.
Swimming with moisture, her body accepted him with exquisite ease. Her channel was his natural home and nothing seemed more right and fitting than for him to be deep inside her.
After what had just passed between them, Hettie had expected to start thrusting straight away. She was within seconds of orgasm and it would only take a couple of strokes.
But Starr was not as other men, and with a great wash of joy, she realized that on this as on most other occasions, she should have expected the unexpected.
Adjusting her beneath him, he cupped her buttocks and tilted her pelvis in his hands so that his cock could slide in even deeper. It seemed the most wonderful thing in the world to comply with this, lifting her legs and locking her ankles behind his hips so his glans could slide right in and caress the neck of her womb. They were as close as a man and woman could ever be now, his cock as far inside her as it could get. With a sigh of mutual contentment, they settled into perfect stillness.
“Can I ask you something, Starr?” she whispered into his ear, squeezing him with her inner muscles and getting a gasp of pleasure in response.
“Yes, Milady,” he murmured, his voice catching when she squeezed him again.
“It’s two things actually.” It was her turn to gasp when he swirled his hips and his penis seemed to swivel inside her. “The first is… Oh God! The first is… Do you think you could start calling me Hettie all the time, now we’re going to be married?
She felt him breathe it against her ear and her heart felt fit to burst with happiness. “That’s better… And I do mean all the time, not just when you’re in me,” she purred.
“Of course, M—” He chuckled and the laugh translated itself into a glorious vibration right at the core of her, “Of course, Hettie my love.”
“The other thing is…” She pressed her mouth quickly to his neck, knowing that orgasm would not be held off much longer. Just lying still with him was as exciting as the wildest of sexual acrobatics with anyone else. “When you’re my husband I’ll need to call you by your first name. Do you think you could possibly tell me what it is?”
He laughed again and her climax came floating closer. “You’ll laugh, Hettie.”
“No, I won’t! Believe me…” She was almost coming now. It was only curiosity—the unbearable need to know—that kept her from orgasming spontaneously.
“You will laugh,” he assured her gently, pausing to kiss her throat, “You most certainly will laugh, I promise you.” He paused again, slipping a hand between them and tapping his own chest for emphasis. “My first name, my dearest, darling Henrietta is—” he hesitated again, teasingly “—Henry!”
Lady Henrietta Miller did laugh then. She couldn’t stop laughing. She laughed and laughed and laughed until the moment when her laughter turned to cries of joyous ecstasy and she climaxed like a chain of firecrackers around the strong pounding cock of her future husband.
Her beloved Henry Starr…
###
Thank You!
Many thanks for reading Lessons and Lovers. I do hope you enjoyed Hettie and Starr and their erotic journey towards love, and also Darryl and his sensual education!
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About Portia
Portia Da Costa is a SUNDAY TIMES best-selling British author of romance, erotic romance and erotica, whose short stories and novels have been published in the UK and elsewhere since 1991. She loves creating stories about sexy, likeable people in steamy, scandalous situations, and has written for various publishers over the years, including Black Lace, HQN, Spice Briefs, Samhain Publishing, Carina Press and a good many others. Though her best known titles are mainly contemporary erotic romance, she also enjoys writing super hot Victorian historical romance, and erotic paranormals. She’s even turned her hand to a bit of erotic sci-fi and horror on occasion.
Recently, her Black Lace contemporary erotic romance IN TOO DEEP, reached Number #5 in the Sunday Times paperback fiction chart, with only books by E L James and Sylvia Day outselling her!
When Portia isn't writing sh
e's usually to be found loafing around watching the television or reading the works of Agatha Christie or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sometimes both at once. She lives in the heart of West Yorkshire in the UK, with her long suffering husband and their two beloved cats, Mork and Mindy.
Find out more about me at the following…
Twitter: http://twitter.com/PortiaDaCosta
Website: http://www.portiadacosta.com
Blog: http://wendyportia.blogspot.com
Tempted by Two - excerpt
When executive woman Katie Warren arrives in the picturesque village of Little Marplethorpe for a country holiday, to reassess her life and her future, she doesn't bargain on ending up in a hot three way love affair with a man she's admired from afar... and his gorgeously handsome male partner.
Marcus Dane and Owen Foster are lovers, committed for a lifetime, but they both enjoy the company of women as friends and bedmates too. Encountering Katie at an exhibition of his work, Marcus knows she's just the kind of bold, daring, imaginative woman who'll relish erotic games shared with Owen and himself.
But what none of the trio expects is that their intense, steamy threesome will quickly deepen into a bond that's a lot more than just simply fabulous sex.
Excerpt:
I must be insane. I don't know these men. But even as she thought it, she parted her lips and accepted Marcus's tongue. It was the painting that reassured her, the tenderness she'd seen in it, and the care shown by the men for the woman between them. There was a verisimilitude about it, an aura of true affection for all its raunchiness.
Marcus's hand slid around the back of her neck, lightly holding her, the masterful quality of his fingertips making her shudder at her core. He was an artist, skilled in touch and exactitude, but even as his tongue stroked hers, she felt other lips, and another tongue, touch her bare shoulder where it was exposed by her strappy summer dress.
If Marcus was the flamboyant, daring artist, what did Owen bring to the mix? She might have said safety, but that sounded too tame. He was just as hot and sexy a man as his lean dark friend.
A hand settled on her hip -- Owen's, from behind her -- fingers curving to ruck up the thin fabric of her skirt. As the hem crept up, Marcus's tongue became more insistent, thrusting deep, the rapid stabbing action rudely provocative. He cradled her face in both hands, owning her with the thorough, devouring kiss.
Katie didn't know what to do with her hands, who to touch. Her body was peculiarly inert yet energetic, like a vibrating vessel waiting to be filled, a fresh white canvas on which great art would be created. She let her hands drop to her sides, and gave herself over to their hands -- the two men who were going to make extravagant love to her.
Owen wasted no time with her skirt. He pushed it up, exposing her thigh, then the curve of her buttock in her skimpy thong. Still kissing her shoulder, he cupped one lobe of her bottom in his entire hand and squeezed hard, making her moan. The sound was a gift to Marcus from his lover, and the younger man seemed to draw it into himself, increasing the authority of his kiss.
Katie had never felt so manipulated, and yet at the same time so powerful. Energy flowed into her through Marcus's mouth, and Owen's exploring hand, making her blood sing and her sex flutter and ache to be filled. To be touched... Whatever... Unable to control herself, she wriggled on the couch, trying to assuage her gathering arousal.
"Yes," hissed Marcus vaguely, allowing her freedom of her mouth for a moment, before plunging in again. This time, he gripped her neck only with one hand, and the other, he let slide down to her breast, where he plucked her nipple between finger and thumb, rolling it firmly through the cotton of her bodice.
Beside herself, Katie moaned again, moving restlessly. As if the touch to her breast had activated her somehow, she raised her hands, tugging at the straps of her dress, pulling them down over her shoulders to bare herself. Working together, knowing what to do by instinct, Marcus helped her, reaching around the back to unzip her. Between them, they stripped the cotton frock to her waist without ever once breaking the kiss.
He was still kissing her, still devouring her with tongue and lips, when Owen suddenly abandoned her bottom, and reached up to unsnap her light strapless bra, whip it off, then fling it away.
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In Sebastian's Hands - excerpt
A BDSM love story in three acts
When Megan meets Sebastian Holmwood at a fancy dress party, she little realizes how her life is going to change. Sebastian is a beautiful and unusual man with an irresistible dark mystique about him. The glint in his silver blue eyes, and the velvet rasp of his deep baritone voice make her want to do crazy things. Suddenly she finds herself longing to play perverse erotic games almost beyond her imagination. She wants Sebastian to spank her, touch her, dominate her, take her over in every way possible... and she knows that with him, the pleasure she earns will blow her mind.
Sebastian Holmwood is a dominant master who's never quite found his perfect submissive... until he meets Megan, dressed as Little Bo Peep, and carrying a crook that looks suspiciously like a punishment cane. Something about Megan's blend of naivety and mischief, and her bold willingness to follow his lead, speak to his dominant soul as a never before, and he knows he won't rest until he's spanked her and much, much more.
Excerpt:
Mozart played on softly, but all of a sudden I was in a new and surreal dimension. Sebastian Holmwood could control me with the very slightest gesture, and as he walked smoothly towards the settee, then sat down just a yard or so away from me, I turned to face him, my head meekly bowed. He was lower than me, seated whilst I was standing, but in all things he had the upper hand.
"So, Megan Chambers, do you want to understand? Our friends downstairs are woefully ignorant. You know that, don't you?" He reached out, took hold of both of my hands, and then held them in one of his. He let his free hand slide lightly down my hip, tracing its approximate shape through my costume's fluffy petticoats. Sensing that he required it, I looked up and met his eyes, realizing he was a little older, and far wiser, than I'd originally thought he was. I nodded, knowing instinctively what I'd let myself in for, and feeling both fear and curiosity in equal parts.
"Good," he said with a thoughtful smile, then let his hand slip beneath my skirt and petticoats. "Are you wearing anything beneath these?" He plucked at the long, lace trimmed mock Victorian pantaloons that peeked out from beneath my hem, then flattened his hand, slipped it upwards, and cupped the rounded cheek of my bottom.
"N... No," I quavered as he squeezed. I'd expected to get the costume grubby at the party, and as I'd be laundering the whole thing anyway, I'd decided to be naughty and go without any extra knickers.
"Excellent!" His eyes gleamed. "Now lift up all these skirts up for me. There's a good girl." He released my hands and nodded to my Bo Peep dress and all the frippery beneath it.
"But..."
Sebastian didn't speak, but his cool old-fashioned look spoke volumes. Trembling, I reached for my hem, then hauled up my skirts and held the whole lot in a haphazard bunch at my waist.
"Back and front," he specified. I obeyed with a graceless scrabble, and then closed my eyes as he gripped my pantaloons, whipping them down to my knees with one smooth, efficient jerk.
"Lovely," he said softly. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze on the curly triangle of my sex, like a radiant therapy that made my hidden folds heat. "Now turn around for me."
Shuffling, I presented my bottom, keenly aware of its plump, curvaceous shape.
"Perfect." His voice was a whisper and I heard the leather upholstery creak as he shifted position. I was quite disappointed that he didn't try to touch me.
"Turn again."
I complied.
"Open your eyes."
Again, I did as I was told, aware that my whole face was one big blush.
&
nbsp; Sebastian was sitting comfortably on the sofa, his posture strong-looking, his knees spread a little apart. "Do you know what to do?" he asked. The gleam in his eyes was like starlight.
I bit my lip. I knew, but I couldn't say it.
"Come on. It's easy. Come across my knee. I won't bite you."
I wasn't worried about him biting.
Slowly, cautiously, I laid myself across his lap, letting his hands guide me into exactly the right position. My balance seemed precarious, and I felt vulnerable and dizzy, with my head down and my bottom rudely up. I couldn't imagine how I'd let myself get into this pickle. What the devil had I been thinking of? One minute I'd been flirting lightly with a moderately attractive man; and the next I was face down across his knee, about to let him spank my bare buttocks. How could I have been so reckless, so foolish? How could I have been so completely insane?
The answer was that against all reason, I trusted Sebastian Holmwood; perhaps more than I'd ever trusted anyone in my life.
And I moaned like a wanton, as if it had been all my idea in the first place, when Sebastian started touching me.
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Copyright
Copyright 2013 Portia Da Costa.
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With exception of quotes used in reviews, this story may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
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