Held Down

by Pamela Prim

  Dorothea in fact never had seen a home more ‘north side’ in her entire life.

  “Criminy,” she mused, her eyes flying wide at the vision of a house that could only be called a mansion.

  Scaling three stories in height, this palatial pink sandstone home—an Italian style residence true to the style of a classic 20s manse--came complete with arched windows and entryways, encircling balconies and porches, and sloping mint green rooves that glowed bright in the light of the moon above.

  Making his way through the circular driveway that fronted this spectacular manse, the relieved limousine driver accepted a hearty tip from his smirking employer before disappearing into the night; leaving Culver and Dorothea to walk hand in hand through the broad arched entryway that fronted what his date immediately labeled “Casa Culver.”

  Soon Dorothea found herself ensconced in the lavish sitting room that served as the centerpiece of this lush architectural confection; a room distinguished at the top by a scarlet corniced ceiling and a sparkling crystal chandelier, sprawling bay windows adorned with curtains of pure red jacquard and bordered by smooth cream colored walls that boasted numerous examples of jazz style wall art, and a rich selection of pure leather furniture in the subtle tones of tope and burgundy.

  “This is one beauty of a place,” she observed, adding with a chuckle, “Of course, calling this one beauty of a place is like saying that Michelangelo’s Statue of David is a passing good sculpture.”

  Moments later she found herself swept up in the sheltering arms of her own personal David; a doting lover who dropped her in the cushiony depths of his comfy, fire hued leather couch.

  After searing her lips with a warm ardent kiss, Culver once again dropped to his knees before her; piercing her with a seductive stare as he ran his hands up her legs and beneath her ebony skirt.

  “I want you to pretend that this place is yours Dorothea,” he released on a hypnotic whisper, searing her with his cocoa hued gaze as his nimble fingers tickled her buxom thighs and rubbed her full hips before venturing farther upward. “You, my darling, are the lady of the house—the woman in charge of everything. I am here only to serve as your loyal and devoted servant—a man whose only purpose here is to serve and please you.”

  Dorothea relaxed in her seat as his smooth soft voice served to lull her into a pleasurable trance; suddenly envisioning herself as the fancy grand dame that her lover now described.

  “Could this dream ever come true?” she pondered, moaning in spite of herself as Culver’s touch lit a fire deep in her belly—one that soon threatened to spread like wildfire throughout her entire body. “Could I ever live this ritzy life, wearing beautiful clothes and eating gourmet food—never having to worry about how the bills are going to get paid, or how to cover next month’s mortgage?….”

  All semblance of worry fled her mind moments later, as her ardent servant once again stripped away the wet cotton panties that served as a barrier between them; petting her intimate mound and stroking open the folds of her soaking wet femininity.

  “In my ongoing efforts to please my lady, I do believe I may have stumbled upon a way to show her the optimum pleasure,” Culver continued to deliver his flawless brand of hot verbal seduction, rubbing her enflamed clit as he hissed, “This is just for you, my lady.”

  With these words he slipped his fingers through the opening of her pulsating pussy, rubbing and stroking her hungry insides until she gasped her pleasure.

  Riding his hand hard as she savored the look of passionate intensity that seared his chiseled features, Dorothea felt her heart pound with excitement as Culver’s magic fingertips continued to probe her pussy; his free hand all the while stroking the rounded belly that other men mocked.

  Tonight Dorothea felt beautiful and unashamed in her lover’s admiring eyes; writhing wild in the softness of his couch as his fingers seemed to seek the source of her greatest pleasure.

  Just then and with a wicked laugh, her lover ‘hit the spot’; crooking his finger in a come hither motion across the soft piece of flesh that lingered just inside her opening.

  Dorothea gasped as her lover made contact with that divine source of feminine ecstasy known as the G-spot; sending spasms of hot electric feeling coursing upward from her pussy to kiss every fiber of her being.

  Her eyes flying wide as her body reveled in this indescribable sensation, Dorothea fell forward into her lover’s waiting arms; rolling with him across the softness of plush ivory carpeting as their lips collided in an intense kiss.

  Making quick work of one another’s clothes, the couple’s arms and legs entangled as their tongues also entwined.

  Soon the pair found themselves in the shadow of an exquisite marble cast fireplace that formed a far corner of Culver’s living room; her host taking a moment to light the fire within as Dorothea enjoyed an unparallel view of his firm hard derriere.

  “You are just too perfect,” she praised him with a giddy grin, opening her arms to him as he joined her on the exotic Oriental weavers rug whose rich pattern of botanical florals captured her attention; especially when further adorned by the golden masculine body of her handsome seducer.

  Straddling him with a playful grin, a besotted Dorothea kissed her way down his hard sculpted chest and washboard abs; finally facing in full the long hard shaft that saluted her arrival.

  Bracing two adoring hands on his rock hard hips, Dorothea ran her tongue along the base of his shaft as he growled low in his throat; finally suckling its erect tip with her soft cherry red lips.

  With a wicked chuckle she tasted and sucked him, savoring his growl of contentment as he ran his hands through her long dark hair.

  She released a groan of frustration moments later, as her lover laid a gentle grasp on her broad shoulders and pulled her upward; clasping her tight and sure in his arms as he cupped her soft cheeks in two adoring hands.

  “You’re too good at that love. If you kept that up for very long, we’d be finished before we started,” Culver whispered, adding as his fingers seemed to memorize every line and plane of her beaming visage, “Good God, Dorothea. How could anyone think that you’re anything less than absolutely beautiful?”

  With these words he swept her beneath him on the rug, her breasts crushing his hard massive chest as their arms and legs entwined.

  Rolling wild across the length of the rug, the couple kissed deeply as he lowered his hand to knead her tender breasts; bringing her nipples to hard erect points beneath his touch as his free hand rubbed and cradled her back.

  Gyrating his hard trim hips against hers, Culver kissed Dorothea senseless as his long stiff cock surged upward to kiss her feminine cleft.

  “My beauty,” he praised her further, his hands running like warm water down her spine as she ran her own attentive fingers through his thick mass of silver black hair.

  “Look who’s talking,” she hissed, next touching and caressing his rock hard pecs as he coddled and cradled her.

  Finally and with an impassioned growl Culver joined them as one; his long hard shaft surging to the depths of her soaking wet pussy.

  Their hips claimed an immediate rhythm as their beings merged as one; their kisses growing hard and frantic as she impaled herself on his sweat glistened member.

  Soon Dorothea lost herself in all things Culver; her hands canvassing his perfect body as he probed and penetrated her, all the while listening as he continued to exalt her beauty and sensuality.

  His words dissolved to heated groans some time later, as their enjoined bodies immersed themselves into the depths of an unbreakable cocoon; heated still further by the fire that roared full and loud right before them.

  Collapsing in a rain of kisses and touches that threatened to consume them whole, the couple continued to writhe wild in one another’s arms as he surged forth to her very core; his reverberating shaft advancing and retreating as his long wet tongue mirrored the motion.

  The softness of the luxurious rug beneath her proved a pleasing co
ntrast to the hardness of her lover’s perfect body; and for just a moment she broke their kiss to gaze upon the whole of his raw masculine glory—admiring his sculpted form as he bowed his head to kiss and nip her neck.

  Just then their gazes collided and their hips and thighs interlocked between them; and before they could stop themselves the couple parted their lips to say the words that both seemed to feel.

  “I love you,” their tones resounded low above the crackle of the flames before them.

  Even so the meaning of their words resounded strong and hard into the night around them; driving them deeper into one another’s arms as, with a last resounding stroke, Culver carried them into the realm of a blissful mutual climax.

  Their beings merging to savor a tender rain of intense and seemingly boundless pleasure, Culver and Dorothea united in a long last kiss before collapsing in the softness of the rug below them.

  Relaxing finally in an easy embrace, the couple’s kisses and sighs intermingled sweet in the atmosphere around them; their reverie broken by the untimely chiming of Dorothea’s cell phone, which now resounded from the depths of her purse.

  Her eyes flew wide as she recognized the cell phone number of Cal Newton, the man who’d unceremoniously baled on the blind date they’d scheduled earlier that evening.

  “The nerve of him!” she told a watching Culver, hitting the talk button as she held the phone up to her ear and barked, “What do you want, Jerk?”

  A stunned silence met her words, followed by a mumbled apology.

  “I so deserve your hatred, Dorothea,” Cal admitted, adding in a halting tone, “You’re such a sweet gal, and I acted like a total cad. Is there any chance we could meet up in 10 minutes at Club Tropicale?”

  Culver had heard enough.

  “Hey Jackass, this is Culver Clayton, the owner of Club Tropicale,” he bellowed over Dorothea’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re too little, too late. You are hereby officially banned for the club, for life. And as for Dorothea? Well I sincerely hope that she’ll be mine for just as long.”

  Feel free to subscribe for more smutty tales...

  TEMPTATION TALES

  Story 17

  The naked man was snoring lightly; his thick muscular arm was draped over her midriff. Geri took a deep breath and exhaled with a loud sigh. She glanced at the little timepiece on the drawer beside her bed. Six in the morning, a new day had begun with a promise that the same old mundane things of everyday would be just as they were the day before. She pushed Arne’s heavy arm off her and slipped out of the bedcovers. Standing naked in front of the full length mirror, she looked at the shapely redhead looking back at her.

  “Geraldine Scarlett Rogan, wannabe movie star.” She said with a smirk. “All the world’s a stage… and when the fuck is my cue?”

  She looked at herself in the mirror closely, a ritual she followed every day. Her bright red hair, deep green eyes, full lush lips, button nose and a delicate heart shaped face was meant to fill the silver screen, making many a heart race and sing. Her body she took great care of, and at thirty, she didn’t look a day over twenty two. Strong shoulders, straight back, full pert breasts, sensuously curving hips and buttocks and those strong shapely legs. Oh, could she hold a pose and enthrall, or could she? And yet, six years in the city of lights, and that big break still eluded her.

  “It’s not like all those acting lessons meant nothing…” She bit her lower lip and shook her head.

  She glanced back at Arne, still snoring on her bed. He was a cameraman at one of the studios she often found work at, doing little parts in local ads and the like. Arne Luther was a good friend and a better lover, but there wasn’t any love in their relationship, and that was fine with her. Geri had no interest in getting into something that would be messy to get out of. These little mutual benefits suited her just fine at this stage of her life.

  And what life was that? A daily grind of mundane events and tasks that made it possible to survive to the next day to do more mundane events and tasks, and the vicious circle went on and on. Oh, well, it was time to get to one of those mundane tasks, her real job, at her Uncle Rand’s Pawn shop on the strip. The job was easy, and boring as hell, but the pay and perks made up for that. She didn’t know what else she would do without Uncle Rand helping her out. Maybe wait tables in some steam filled diner along the coast.

  A quick shower and a bite of buttered toast with some coffee and she was out of the door. Arne had a duplicate key and he sometimes bailed her out with the rent, so she left him there still asleep. The pawn shop was just a block away and she enjoyed the lazy walk over. The place was a 24/7 and her usual day shift was between eight and four, giving her plenty of time to spare in the evenings.

  “Ah, Geri, my dear.” The shrill voice of her aunt, Millicent Rogan, pierced into her ears making her wince. Same old, same old, every darn day.

  “Morning, Millie.” She nodded at the white haired older woman. “Made another million dollars since I was last here?”

  “Yeah, sure… and we’ll be moving the business to Vegas next Christmas.” Millicent Rogan cackled and slapped her playfully across her perfect rump.

  “That’ll do you an Uncle Rand a world of good.” She grinned at her perky aunt.

  “Oh yeah!” Millie had a smirk on her thin lips. “And what about you, little Geri Cherry, when are you going to get it through your pretty head that you’re wasting away chasing your smoke-filled dreams? Find yourself a millionaire before that hot body of yours goes all the way downhill.”

  “That what you did, Auntie dear? I didn’t know Randall Rogan was a millionaire back then.”

  “He wasn’t, and still isn’t.” The proprietress of the pawn shop said with a deep sigh. “And this pawn shop isn’t going to last forever, you know. After our time, your cousin, Nate’s going to run things… and the way he is… the ground is the only place he can run this business into.”

  “Why don’t you and Uncle Rand bequeath this place to me then instead?”

  “Yeah, right… as if your uncle’s going to leave his only son in the lurch for you.” Her aunt Millie replied with a snorting laugh. “I’d have half a mind to, but I’ve never been the evil step-mother, and I’m not going to start now.”

  “Ah, geez, yeah… I forgot.” Geri sighed sadly. “Rand’s first wife died even before I was born, when Nate was just three… and you’ve been the only mother he knows since.”

  “Yeah, well, forget about us… you’ve got to make your own life, dear girl. This dreary old pawn shop and your obsession with becoming a movie star will be the death of you.”

  “Right now, this dreary old place is the life of me… so you go on home and get some rest while I take care of things.”

  “Alright, darling.” Millicent Rogan collected her handbag and umbrella and began walking toward the door. “And Rand will be here after ten as usual.”

  Geri watched the woman walk away down the street. That woman was a work-aholic, spending nearly fourteen hours a day in the pawn shop. She knew that she could never do that even if she had forty eight hours a day. The older folk had a stronger work ethic, real gumption and grit about getting things done. It was a pity that Rand’s son, Nate, was nothing like his father when it came to getting his hands dirty and working hard. It would be sad indeed to see this place go to ruin after her uncle and aunt could no longer run it.

  The little bells over the door chimed, letting her know that someone had walked in. She looked up at the tall, slender man walking up to her counter. He had a small package in his bony hands and his sunken eyes looked right at her as he licked his thin lips with a flicking tongue. Geri felt a chill run down her back and took a deep breath. It was still too early in the morning for the shop to have more than a handful of customers. In fact, at that moment, she was the only one there. She prayed that this wasn’t some kind of attempted robbery. The man did have a furtive look about him.

  “Good morning, miss.” His voice was a deep baritone, quite in
contrast to the near cadaver like look he had.

  “Good morning, sir.” She eyed the package he was holding in his hands. It was too small to be a gun, but then some antique guns were quite small. “What can I help you with?”

  “This.” He held up the package at her. “I have something here that might interest you.”

  She stared at it wide eyed for a moment, and then looked at him. He had an expectant expression on his gaunt face. “Okay, sir… can you undo the packing… show me what it is inside.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” He said and undid the bindings with trembling fingers. “It’s an artifact… thousands of years old, from the ancient world.”

  Geri’s eyes went wide at the sight of the silvery object the man revealed from its packaging. If she knew her history well, the artifact was a remarkable piece from a time long gone, from an age when great empires stretched across entire continents. “It looks like something from ancient Asia or Egypt.” She said, gingerly reaching out for it. “What can you tell me about it, Mr.…? Mr.?”