“Touch me,” he groaned, his hands shaking with need as he dragged her top over her head. She undid her bra and flung it on to a desk, laughing as he lifted his head to bury his face in her breasts. “You smell good. Touch me,” he said again, reaching for his pants zipper.
“Uh, uh,” Cassie teased, covering his hand with hers. “Don’t be in such a hurry.”
She squeaked in surprise as he flipped her on to her back and straddled her, pinning her with his strong thighs. A shiver ran through his voice as he drawled, “Lovely, just for you, I’ll take you nice and slow.”
He lifted himself off her, his hands pushing up her skirt and stroking her thighs. The heat of his touch built and built till the thudding of her pulse screamed: Now! Take me now! She half sat and reached for his zipper, easing it over his straining, thick cock.
Tearing off his shoes and socks, his trousers and underwear quickly discarded, he knelt at her side, his hips jutting forward. His eyes fluttered closed as she bent her head to press her lips against his erection’s velvety smooth skin. She flicked her tongue up the thick shaft, circling the tip, licking up a bead of glistening sperm.
“Fuck, you’re good,” he rasped. She glanced up to see him watching her, his eyes glazed in ecstasy. She bowed her head again but he stopped her. “Make me wait, lovely. Make me beg for it.” Cupping his hands on either side of her face he captured her lips in a slow-burning kiss.
Desperate to ease the sweet throb building between her legs, she slid her fingers under her knicker elastic to explore the slippery softness of her vulva. She moaned against his mouth, her fingers slick with juice.
Without breaking the kiss, Stefan slipped his own finger along the edges of her elastic. She squirmed against him and with one quick movement he wrenched her knickers down and poked one long finger right where she craved.
“You’re so wet, my lovely,” he murmured against her lips. She gasped as he pulled off her skirt and laid her back against the floor. Hastily she covered her exposed love handles with her hands.
“Relax,” he growled, lowering his mouth to her nipples and sucking each one in turn.
Her clit screamed for attention but all he did was push her legs up, spread them wide and sit back on his haunches.
A cold draught of air fanned across her hot moistness as he gazed at her vulva. “Beautiful.”
Cassie groaned, reaching for him. “Lick me, suck me, stick me, just dosomething, dammit.”
“I thought you wanted to …”
“I know what I want,” she interrupted. “And I need you now!”
Stefan laughed and bent his head between her legs, his tongue hotly searing her clit, lapping at her juices, feathering the delicate skin at the top of her thighs.
She arched her back, writhing as wave upon wave of pleasurable, white-hot agony washed over her, leaving her quivering.
He shucked off his shirt. Dreamily, she raised a hand, trailing it languidly across his chest, swirling the dark hair in one finger and pinching one tiny, brown nipple.
He groaned and caught her hand, straddling her, holding her gaze as he parted her folds with his other hand and pushed in his cock with one thrust of his hips. Her eyes widened. He was verybig.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered. “Beautiful and small – I’m going to stretch you, my lovely.”
Small.This made Cassie giggle; it seemed strange that he was so lean on the outside yet large where it mattered, while she was quite the opposite.
She put her arms around him and buried her face in the fresh smell of his neck. It was ten times more fragrant than any candle.
He rocked against her, his breathing rapid, and she braced herself for his orgasm. But he withdrew and offered his penis for her to suck.
As she drew his full shaft, slick with her own juice, into her warm mouth, she raised her eyes to watch the pleasure transforming his face. “I’ll put him back inside you soon,” he promised. “Stop when I say …” He tensed, his face contorting with the effort of control as he gasped, “Now!”
She withdrew and cradled his stiff cock in her hand, guiding it down to between her thighs. “Nice and slow now, big boy.”
He eased in and then held his body still. Desire trembled in his gaze as he rasped, “Sorry lovely … I can’t … wait …” His eyelids lowered, and his breath quickened as he thrust his hips forward. And water sprang to her eyes – damn but his gun was BIG.
Cassie wrapped her legs around his back, his spasms jerking her spine into the soft carpet. She hugged his weight to her as his breathing slowed, huffing a sigh of protest as he withdrew. She wanted to stay connected for ever.
Stefan tugged his shirt off the office chair and laid it across her. She sent him a sleepy smile of thanks and snuggled under to absorb his manly scent.
He pulled on his trousers. “Hey, lovely, thank you for coming … in my shop.”
She smiled at the double meaning. “I was like a moth drawn to the flame.”
“I knew you couldn’t resist a stiff candle.”
They both laughed. Then she said, glancing around for her knickers, “But there issomething you don’tknow.”
“What’s that?” Stefan dropped a kiss on her forehead.
Her pulse danced. “That investing in candles is the best decision I’ve ever made!”
He said nothing. Her certainty plunged to the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip. Had she said too much, too soon?
Stefan seemed to be lost in thought. She held her breath. Then his face cleared and his eyes shone. “You, Cassie, are the light of my life.”
Heart in meltdown, she jumped into his arms.
Princess Beatrice
by Sadie Wolf
Stephen
I loved watching Beatrice when she was naked. It was rare to find a woman who was so comfortable in her own skin, so content to expose herself to my gaze.
Lying on her side on the bed, her body lit by the morning sun and her long auburn hair in ringlets, she looked just like a painting. Her forget-me-not blue eyes and her rosebud mouth made her look innocent and pretty, but her pale peaches-and-cream complexion bore the telltale flush of recent sex.
Her sidelong silhouette dipped in at the top of the waist and curved out to wide, sexy hips. Her thighs were big and smooth and soft, an ocean of unblemished white skin contrasting deliciously with the burnt umber of the triangle of neatly clipped pubic hair.
Not for the first time I wondered, if I had met Beatrice first, before marrying Helen, would I have been happier? But I pushed the thought out of my mind: I am married, I have children and my family comes first.
Sadly, it was as if mine and Helen’s paths had diverged over the years without either of us noticing, and now we had virtually nothing in common. Once she was warm and kind but now she was sharp and spiky. She used to be soft physically too, but since joining the gym with a friend she had become increasingly obsessed, spending every spare moment there. Helen’s body had become hard, a rail-thin ironing board covered only with rock-hard, lean muscle. The cuddle had gone out of her.
Hence I found myself in Beatrice’s bed. Beatrice’s bed was warm and welcoming, Beatrice’s body was soft and sensual, and after a year of exploring every delicious inch of her voluptuous body I was crazier about her than ever.
Not that I would admit all this to her. She’d probably run a mile. She wasn’t the kind of woman who sat by the phone waiting for my call. She went on dates, saw other men. She was a free spirit. It’s what I loved about her … actually, I found it quite sexy …
‘Daydreaming, are you?’ Beatrice looked at me from under her lashes.
‘Only about you.’
Mark
I always specify ‘more to love’ in the Looking For section. So many women nowadays are either too thin or are always on a diet, and that turns me off. I like the ones who advertise themselves as plus sized; I usually find they are happier with themselves. And so they should be: so many men are like me and have a liking for a
larger lady. I like breasts and I like softness, I don’t hold with all this gym and work-outs business for women.
I met Beatrice in the usual way – on the Net – and although I thought she looked sexy in her photograph, she looked a million times better when I saw her in the flesh.
She walked, or rather sashayed, into the bar, hips swinging, red hair flying, and I swear every man in the place stopped what he was doing to stare. She was wearing one of those skirts that cling on the hips and bum and flare out to the knee, with nice shiny high-heeled boots, and she had on a low-cut sweater that her tits were just bursting to escape from. Honest to God, I was rock hard even then.
She invited me back to hers and into her bed that very first night. I must’ve done something right because I’ve been back on a regular basis ever since. Even taken her away on trips. I know I’m not the only one, she’s got some married lover, and who knows, maybe there are others too, but I’ll settle for what I can get.
Beatrice
I can honestly say that I’ve got my life exactly how I want it. I lived with someone for seven years, but it didn’t suit me. I forgot what music I liked, what my favourite foods were, even who my friends were. One day he just walked in and opened his mouth and told me it was over. I almost passed out with shock and the thoughts in my head were all, how will I manage, how will I cope on my own after all this time? But even then, underneath the terror, was a hard, shining glimmer of hope, of utter relief that at last I had been set free.
Stephen
Seeing her smile made me want to make love to her again. It was almost eleven and I really should have been going, but I never could resist that smile. I kissed the tip of her freckly nose and ran my fingertips along the curve of her side-lying body, feeling her skin shiver with pleasure. That too drove me wild: the ease with which she came alive under my touch. I rolled her over on to her back and she looked at me with her lovely blue eyes and bit her lower lip. The way she anticipated the pleasures of the flesh so prettily was something I found irresistible.
I began to stroke around the outer edges of her tremendous breasts and she sighed, settling herself into her pillows like a cat. Her delicate pink nipples began to harden, and I let my fingers work their way inwards and begin to gently stroke the fullness of her breasts until I came at last to her hard little nipples and began to tease and tweak them in just the way she liked. She sighed again and looked up at me from under her half-closed lashes. The colour had begun to rise in her face again, giving her a pretty little blush on her cheeks. She could never hide her arousal, she was far too sensual a creature for that.
I let one hand wander down from her breast, over her ribcage and on to the soft swell of her belly. I rested it there, feeling the soft warmth of her body under the flat of my hand, as my other hand still worked on her breast and nipple. I felt the anticipation in her body, the tension of her waiting for my next move. I kept her like that, suspended, for as long as I could bear and then I very slowly slid my hand down from her belly and down between her legs, opening her soft fleshy thighs as I did so. She moaned softly, opening her legs for me as the tips of my fingers made contact with the delicious wetness there.
She was putty in my hands, as always. It drove me wild, this sense that she was utterly in my power, that she would probably do anything in return for my providing her with sexual relief. When she was soaking wet, and all my fingers were glistening and slippery, I decided it was time to fuck her.
I sank into her like a starving man falling on a banquet, even though I had made love to her less than an hour before. Her body had that effect on me, the softness of her thighs and belly, the almost obscene abundance of her creamy breasts and the sheer burning heat of the inside of her body. I wanted to drown in her body, to suffocate myself in her flesh. She was a siren, a temptress against whom I was powerless.
Then I opened my eyes and saw her pretty, delicate-looking face, her blushing cheeks, and I saw that she too was helpless in the face of her sexual desire. I slowed down and focused on taking her slowly and steadily to orgasm. I felt like the most powerful man on earth.
Mark
I arrived at her place with flowers, as always. She opened the door to me, wearing a plain, dark blue dress that clung to her curves and was low enough to give me a glimpse of cleavage and short enough to give me a view of her legs to just above the knee. I sat down on the sofa, and she brought me a glass of wine. Her place was full of photos and pictures, with rugs on the floor and cushions everywhere, a real woman’s place. She sat down beside me, her pale, freckled arm inches away from me, her red hair done in beautiful ringlets that made her look old-fashioned and sexy at the same time. I felt like a very lucky man. I wanted to do something to show her that.
‘Will you let me take you away on your birthday? We could go to a show in London, maybe stay for the weekend?’
She smiled and put her hand lightly on my arm.
‘That’s so kind of you. But I really don’t know what I’m doing yet.’
Shit, what an idiot! Of course, I wasn’t the only man in her life, was I? I got the distinct impression from the little I had picked up that the married guy was very well off. He was probably taking her to a five-star hotel in Paris. I couldn’t compete with that.
‘I really don’t know what I’m doing yet,’ she said again. ‘I’ll let you know, OK? Thank you.’
She stroked my cheek, leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. Her lips were soft like petals and her mouth tasted clean and sweet. My irritation evaporated. Of course a woman like her was going to be in demand, and she had never led me to believe that we were ‘exclusive’ as they say nowadays. I put my hand on her huge, glorious breasts and wondered what this other man was like. Did he touch her the same way I did? Did he appreciate her properly? What was his favourite part of her body? What did they doin bed? What did it look like?
She stood up and took off her dress. She looked fantastic, all boobs and huge, sexy hips, all wrapped up in raunchy red lacy underwear. Of course I had to share her, I could hardly expect to keep such a creature all to myself.
She unbuttoned my trousers and sank down on her knees on the rug, and I felt like I would shoot my load right there and then just at the thought of what was to come. I shut my eyes and got a hold of myself. When I opened my eyes, I saw her huge breasts spilling out of their bra onto my lap and her red ringlets, pale, sweet face and sexy red mouth going down on my cock.
Beatrice loved to suck cock, you could tell. Some women just love it, it’s not a chore or a favour for them, it’s more like they’re simply born to do it. As if there’s nothing in the world they’d rather do than get a cock in their mouth and suck it. Her lips were soft and her tongue was very warm and wet and the inside of her mouth was smooth and velvety. She moaned and pressed her breasts against me as she got into it. She liked it when I held her head, pulled her hair and pushed my cock into her.
She must suck his cock too. Lucky guy, married guys don’t get too many blow jobs as a rule. The thought of her sucking his cock turned me on quite a bit for some reason, and my mind drifted on to them fucking, him taking her from behind, her sitting on him, this faceless, nameless man whom I knew next to nothing about. But it was arousing, picturing her doing it with him, and I spurted into her mouth much quicker than I intended to.
Beatrice
OK, so I knew I was taking a bit of a risk, introducing my two lovers to each other. But it’s my birthday. Mark had been increasingly curious, and Stephen had been increasingly clingy, and I didn’t want him to get any silly ideas in his head about leaving his wife. And for both of them, I thought it was time to take our relationship to the next level, sex wise. I mean, what is the point of having two men if you can’t have a threesome once in a while?
I arranged for Stephen to arrive first. I was more worried about how he would handle my proposal than Mark. As usual he was nicely dressed in an expensive shirt and his almost-grey hair was newly cut in a neat, short back-and-sides style t
hat suited him. He was carrying an enormous bouquet of lilies and a present. He looked so pleased to see me that for a moment I wished I’d made tonight just about the two of us. He stepped indoors and I saw him do a double take as he realised what I was wearing – a white faux-fur coat and new, expensive Agent Provocateur black underwear, including stockings and suspenders and a pair of blood-red skyscraper heels. I’m quite a restrained dresser usually, but I thought that tonight I needed all the help I could get.
‘Anyone would think it was mybirthday. Happy birthday, beautiful.’ He kissed me and handed me the present, a square box wrapped in silver paper. Inside was a beautiful silver and sapphire necklace.
‘It’s perfect, thank you.’
‘I brought champagne.’
‘Perfect.’
‘So, what are we doing tonight?’ Stephen sat down and drew me on to his lap. His eyes were sparkling and I could feel him hard under my thighs. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him full on the mouth, passionately enough, I hoped, to take his breath away.
‘Well, you know how it’s my birthday and I can do whatever I like? Tonight we are going to play … at sharing.’
‘Sharing?’
Right on cue, the doorbell rang. I got up to answer it without a word, letting my coat fall off as I did so and leaving Stephen’s mind to work out what was going on.
Mark’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he saw me. He too was carrying flowers and a present. I felt like a very lucky girl, and the evening hadn’t even started yet. He had hardly stepped through the door when I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my ample bosom against him and kissing his neck. I took hold of his hands and looked him in the eye.
‘Stephen’s here.’
‘What, but –’
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