Jessica thought it was wonderful, though, when I played her the tape later, though David found it all a bit too much, as he hadn’t had a fuck for days – and he didn’t hang around too long, which left me and Jessie with the great pleasure of showing it to Leo in the morning.
I thought he would burst, as his face got terribly red, but it was hard to tell whether that was from arousal or shock. I didn’t suck him off again, though the perverse part of me wanted to, as Jessica protested that he wasn’t to be relieved like that any more.
She said it might get him overexcited.
Eight
An extraordinary thing happened after Anne’s adventure with Antonia. First of all, we gained another ally of sorts. Antonia started making a bee-line for Anne at every available opportunity, which left me at a bit of a loose end, but it was worth it for the information we received from Antonia. Apart from learning that neither of the ‘witches’ liked Leo very much, which was a bit of a surprise to me, we also learned the identity of the woman who had been following me on their behalf. It was Anne’s old teacher, Elizabeth Rackham, of all people.
The news struck Anne like a bombshell, though she hid it very well. She was very quiet for several days, and then she confided in me. It seems that she had persuaded Antonia to invite Elizabeth along to the guesthouse while Anne was there. Far from greeting her old pupil with interest, it appears that she didn’t remember Anne at all, which was quite a blow to Anne’s esteem. It was easy, apparently, for the two of them to get Elizabeth to stay for a while, for it turns out that she had been Leo’s lover for some time. Perhaps even when he was ‘courting’ me.
Anne had some plan for Elizabeth, but she wouldn’t go into detail with me at that time, though she did say that she intended to have her, just as Leo had. It’s amazing how connected things are, when you really get down to it.
For myself, I was having enough trouble coping with my own idiosyncrasies, without worrying too much over Anne’s. I had thought that acting out some of the scenarios we had would tone down my dreams, but they had not. In fact, if anything they had got even worse. Now, instead of the dream in the classroom, I spent the hours I slept caught up in a bizarre wedding ceremony, though I doubt if there are many weddings as odd as this.
The dreams started with me walking up a cold, flag-stoned aisle, in a church as dark and gothic as Dracula’s castle in one of the black-and-white films. I was aware of being cold, and I sensed that the back of my purple silk gown was floating open. I was wearing nothing else. No shoes, no underwear, nothing at all, and I felt the silk shifting clammily along my skin as I moved. It was as if I were under a compulsion, and I could not stop myself from walking towards a cowled figure, who waited in silence at the twisted altar that lay ahead of me. I was sure there were others in the rows of seats to the sides of me, but I could not turn my head to look, and I knew that they were watching the swaying of my breasts, loose under the oily silk, and the shuddering flexing of my buttocks through the opening in the gown. I wanted to stop, to cover myself, to flee, but I could not, and the faint strains of a droning hymn accompanied me, as I neared the figure at the head of the church. I could not hear what he was saying, yet I knew what to do, and when he handed me a cup full of sweet wine, I drank it without hesitation. He beckoned to my right, and another silk-clad figure floated towards me.
It was Leo, but, in the dream, I was not surprised, and I took his hand as I had in the waking world. He grinned, and we exchanged soundless vows. The words were thick and ugly in my dreaming mind, and I could not understand their meaning.
Leo led me forwards, on to the ledge before the altar, and I kneeled on the cold stone before the cowled minister. He fumbled at the fastening of his robe, and I felt fear racing through my chest. His robes were pulled aside, and his thick red penis was suddenly exposed. It beat upwards, blindly, huge and knotted with veins. I opened my mouth, and he inserted it past my teeth and into the back of my throat. I panicked for a second, thinking I was going to choke, but it slid easily into me, down into me. I felt someone, perhaps Leo, pull the sides of my gown apart at the back, and then I was lifted up, so that my body was flat, at waist height, with the cock still moving in my open mouth. I moved slowly forwards, and the minister dissolved into the altar, until my stomach pressed down on to the freezing stone. It squirmed to the heat of my skin, through the silk of my robe, like worms rolling away from the daylight. I was horrified but accepting, and the cock moved back and forth, back and forth.
I sensed the thoughts of Leo, speaking soundlessly to the others, who had waited in the shadows, inviting them to come forwards, and I knew that he was going to let them have me. All of them were going to have his beautiful young wife.
My thighs were seized and hoisted apart, so that the furry slit between them was exposed. I was dry with fear, and so I was anointed with some unknown substance. It itched a little, and tingled in my cleft, but I felt the moistness beginning to roll from me. My lips swelled and tightened, pouting purselike below the tautness of my cheeks. My breasts mashed ungently against the squirming altar-top, as my legs were spread, ever wider, to let someone step between them. I felt the hot, blunt head of something nosing around between the puffed-up lips. I found my voice and wailed as the thing slid into me, but no one listened, and they all came forwards, one by one, to have their try at my open slit. It went on, unending, until I awoke exhausted and sweating in my room. I could not stand it.
In the end, I put off going to bed, so hateful was the dream, and I took to wandering the halls of my big house in search of diversion. I tried the library, but books at midnight have no allure, and one can only drink so many cups of tea before one’s stomach revolts. At last, I could stand it no more, and I took myself off out for a midnight stroll to clear my head. I knew what the problem was, because I had thought on it through the long night-time hours. I needed to get rid of the accursed virginity, which would have been easy for any other girl, but my peculiar circumstances meant I had to be careful what male company I kept. I was going to have a terrible job being alone with a man for the time necessary to do what had to be done.
The night was warm, and so I slipped a light overcoat over my chemise, though common sense made me choose high black boots because of the damp grass at the sides of the roads in those parts. The moon was high and round in the grey-blue of the night sky and, in the edges of its corona, stars faded up to bright pins of light. The gravelled path was silver like the sea on moonlit nights by the coast, and I crunched as quietly as I could away from the house, and the lights that shone from its windows. The air crept in under the edges of my coat, and drifted deliciously up my thighs. I felt my cheeks wobbling loosely without any knickers, and my sex responded with immediate heat. I was totally aware of the muscles in my legs working beneath the bare, smooth skin of my thighs and calves, and my nipples rubbed, stiff and uncomfortable, against the rough weave of my overcoat. I felt terribly randy.
I had walked for just under a quarter of a mile, towards an old, abandoned barn, and the tumbledown farmhouse that it used to service, when my mood turned daring, and I decided to take off the coat, and let the bare flesh of my arms and legs go loose against the wind. The feeling of freedom was making me delirious, and I was close to swooning with the sensations that the breeze was producing on my bare skin. I gave no thought to who might be watching, for it was after one o’clock in the morning, and I didn’t really care if I was seen anyway. I felt more naked than if I had been wearing nothing, for the hem of my chemise flapped upwards at every snapping change in the wind’s direction, exposing the narrow strip of hair at my groin, and letting the cool air slip in intoxicating swirls up the bare insides of my thighs, into the tight crack between my loose and heavy buttocks. I knew I must look outrageous and otherworldly, in the light of the moon, as my chemise was a mere wisp of satin that had more lace than solid material, and it was virtually transparent in any light. Combined with my height, unbound hair, and polished, knee-length boots, I l
ooked more like a model in a glossy magazine than a creature of flesh and blood. It was totally impractical clothing, yet that was what made it so marvellous.
I almost lost that sense of the incredible when I rounded the bend near the old farmhouse and saw a figure leaning against the fence. For a moment, I considered turning back, and then the unreality gripped me again and I strode forwards with the coat flapping over my arm, and the high heels of my boots clocking loudly against the damp, uneven tarmac of the road. I was nearly twenty yards away from the figure before it turned towards me, and I saw the round, white, surprised face of a slim, middle-aged man turn towards me. His mouth, a black hole of astonishment in the strange light, flapped open and closed like a fish at the glass of a tank, and he made some grunt of acknowledgement. I slowed as I neared him, and said, ‘Good evening,’ in as calm a voice as I could manage.
I drew myself up to full height, and asked him what he was up to.
‘Ah, I-I’m just out w-walking the dog, ah, Miss,’ he stuttered.
I looked coolly around before answering, ‘I don’t see any dog, Mr?’ The uptilt at the end of my question prompted him.
‘Roland Norton, Miss,’ he said, holding out his hand in a strangely correct way.
‘Jessica,’ I said, taking it, and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘You can call me Jessica.’
‘I thought he might have gone in there,’ he said, releasing my hand, and nodding towards the darkened barn. ‘He’s a bugger for the rats, is Geoff.’
‘Is that his name, then?’ I asked, amused at the odd turn of our conversation. It was so ordinary, in such a strange situation, that it added to the sense of surreality even more.
‘Yes,’ replied the man, with a very serious expression, which was probably hiding his bewilderment, as he seemed to think it rude to ask me what I was doing walking around half-dressed at this hour. ‘I was just going into look for him,’ he continued. ‘Then you came along.’
‘Don’t let me stop you,’ I suggested, and he seemed a little relieved at that. Grasping the top of the rusty gate that barred the way to the farm’s overgrown path, he hauled himself lithely up, and was over in moments.
‘Wait,’ I called to him, as he turned to walk off. ‘I’ll come with you.’
And so saying, I mimicked his movements and swung my booted leg over the cold metal. His eyes widened as they caught a flash of my nakedness, and he lowered his eyes in embarrassment. I felt the thin, cool steel between my open buttocks, and it made me squeal.
‘I need a hand,’ I said, and he reluctantly looked up at me, and extended one arm.
He could not look away as I swung my other leg over, giving him a full view of my naked backside as I did, and my chemise flipped up to expose the bare flesh of my hips in such a way as to make it impossible for him not to notice. He made no comment, but his nervousness increased, and he seemed to want to rush away from me.
I followed him as he walked towards the looming black silhouette of the barn, and my boots’ narrow heels sank deep into the mud of the neglected driveway. I felt rooted and solid, all of a sudden, and the possibilities of this chance meeting were obvious to me. I hoped that Roland wasn’t too shy for what I intended.
My excitement rose, spiralling upwards, until my mind was buzzing with anticipation. I followed Roland through the broken doors of the barn, which he had to pull outwards on their rusty hinges before we could enter. The moonlight streamed in the empty window frames, and silvered the concrete of the floor like Stardust. I watched Roland’s face as he turned towards me, and he had the aspect of a hunted animal.
‘Nope, not in here,’ he said, in a voice of comical normality.
‘Obviously,’ I countered, with a smile, and stepped into his path when he tried to go round me to the exit.
‘Look, what do you want, Jessica?’ he asked, half-exasperated, half-anxious.
I laid my hand fiat against his fly, and felt the reason for his nervousness. A large erection beat behind the cloth, and I guessed he had been entertaining faint thoughts of sweet hedonistic adventures all the time he had been retreating from me. His expression fleeted from astonishment, to delight, to confusion, as I fumbled at his zip, and drew the length of hot flesh from its hiding place.
It was warm and solid, like a length of rubber pipe, and it strained upwards in defiance of him. I dropped my coat on to the floor and kneeled, determined not to falter at this point. I swallowed nervously as it neared my face, for I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do, other than to try and copy what Anne had done to Leo in the drawing room. It had looked so simple when she did it.
All one had to do was put it in one’s mouth.
I opened my lips, and Roland gasped in amazement above me as I rested the velvety head of his cock on my lower lip, and rubbed lightly against the ribbed surface. The strip of skin at the underside was tight, like a little ribbon, and I licked it gently with the tip of my tongue, until he groaned. Saliva filled my mouth, and I swallowed again, before mentally making the decision to pop his knob between my lips. His legs trembled as I slid the big head over my teeth and tongue, and I used one hand to steady the back of his leg, while the other guided the thick, throbbing length of his prick into my throat. I gagged and slid it out a bit, then tried again. I sucked hard on the resilient ball of tumescent, velvety flesh, then tried to swallow the end again. This time it slipped easily in time with my breathing, and I caught the knack of it. Instead of trying to keep it in my throat all the time, I moved it back and forth over my tongue for long moments while I sucked, and only took the full length into the back of my throat every now and then. It seemed to work, for soon he was groaning and whispering above me unreservedly.
‘So beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘So lovely, sucking my cock like that.’
I slowed my efforts, as I knew he would not last long if I kept this up. He tried to grab my head to force his cock into my throat, but I shook his hands away, and stood up. We both swayed drunkenly for a moment, and the look of disappointment on his face was gratifying.
I walked around him and surveyed the room; then I bent and gathered up my coat, aware of the flashing of my heavy cheeks behind me as I did so. He stood bemused, with his red cock poking stubbornly out from his jeans, and I gave the wet end a little tickle with my finger as I walked away from him.
‘Follow me, Roland,’ I whispered, as I walked towards a wooden shelf that ran around the far wall.
It had obviously been used as an all-purpose workbench in the past, but now its pitted and scarred surface was bare. It stood just over knee height, and I found it easy to drape my coat over its edges and climb up. I kneeled unsteadily on the rickety platform, and hoisted up the hem of my chemise so that my hips and buttocks were exposed cleanly to the air and moonlight. Then I leaned forwards, with my arms straight, and shuffled my knees back so that the crook of my shoes hung on the edge of the trestle. I dipped my back, and let my hips sink downwards so that my bottom lowered and opened. I craned my head to look at Roland, and called him softly over from where he stood.
‘You know what to do, don’t you, Roland?’ I said half-teasingly to him, when he stood finally behind me. I wanted to challenge him a little, to make him take control. I knew my skin must look like a polished silver apple in the light of the moon, and I deepened my crouch to open the deep, dark cleft between my cheeks, so that the light would illuminate it. I hung my head in surrender to the feeling of abandonment that swept over me, and whispered into the wooden boards, ‘Go on, then. Fuck me, you bastard.’
Tentative, fumbling hands trembled over the outer edges of my hips, and drifted inwards, like the fluttering of a moth’s wings towards my core. I felt them rub my wet centre, and the lips opened to the stroking like a flower opening to the sun. Into me, the probing, nervous stems of his hands dug, until the juices ran freely from my slit. He grew bolder then, and grasped my open buttocks with greedy fingers. I felt my anus clench in protest at the stretching, and the hot root of his cock was laid, be
ating warmly and squarely, in the brazen cleft. I rocked my hips gently to make it rub me, exulting in the feeling of the rubbery cock moving along the open seam. My hips shook as he placed the thick head of his cock at the slippery entrance, and I tensed a little at the unfamiliar touch within that place. So slowly that it felt like it would last forever, he pushed the thick root into my virgin cunt, until I felt the breath forced out of me with the length of it. Perhaps it was my innocence, but it seemed to me at the time that his penis was enormous, and I felt it stretching me to impossible levels.
‘Ooooh!’ I groaned, as the hair on his pubis grazed my bottom’s naked cleft, and he held it hard into me for a moment, before beginning to vigorously pump it back and forth within my tightly clasping slit.
I pushed my bottom out at him, and felt the cock slip further in, and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing out in pleasure, as he rode the thick peg in and out of me with powerful flexings of his hips. He spread my little shrinking arsehole with his thumbs, grown rude with lust, and the stretching in both orifices made me mad with ardour. His hands gripped fiercely on my tender, muscular cheeks, as his cock flashed ever quicker in the wetness of my foaming cunt. I felt the orgasm coming dimly up from nowhere, and I grunted and sobbed shamelessly as he flooded my virgin cunt with spilling seed. My breasts shook and rolled heavily underneath me, as the quivering of my thighs and buttocks overtook me. He pulled his cock out at the last, and let the last few globs of semen splash across my shameless, squirming cheeks. They cooled as I cooled, and ran down my curving flesh, when I straightened up to turn to face him.
The Young Wife Page 15
