Martha! His stomach knotted. He didn’t want to hurt Martha any more than he already had…but then again, she did know the score. Her expression appeared a little strained and furtive, and then she licked her lips and dipped her eyelids. Halleluiah! Now, how would he convince her to step outside the door for a quickie without embarrassing the girl? Immediately, he felt shame wash over him. Martha definitely deserved better than to be used to simply ease an ache.
Then he noticed the two sat cross-legged on his bed, wearing short shifts that couldn’t possibly hide their sexes should he walk deeper inside. Light from no less than six phosphor-pots were placed around the room, chasing away the shadows.
Sweat broke on his forehead despite the cool air at his back. “Good even, ladies.”
“Hi, Cantor,” Martha chimed brightly, and then she nudged Little Flower.
“Hello, Can-torr.”
He sucked in a deep breath and nearly turned to flee the cabin. The girl’s sweet voice rolled the R’s like a kitten’s purr. His treacherous body tightened hard as a rock. Walking stiff-legged into the room, he closed the door behind him, shutting himself inside with their sweet scents. He tried not to breathe too deeply, but Martha’s petal-soft smell mingled with a fresh, minty-spice that he knew must be the girl’s.
A desperate glance around the room, and he realized something was wrong. “Where’s the damn mattress?” he asked, dismay making his voice harsh.
“We had it taken back. There are so many far more crowded than you are, Cantor,” Martha replied, her eyes alight with merriment.
Cantor’s narrowed, suspicion creeping into his testosterone-soaked brain that Martha was up to something.
“Turn around, Violet,” Martha said. “Let me braid your hair for bed.”
Violet? It suited her. Sweet—and crushable. And nineteen for fuckssake! Sweat broke on his upper lip. She was getting ready for bed. Violet shifted around on the mattress and the shadowed area between her legs was exposed for a moment to his gaze. Her plump lips were indeed bare.
His knees wobbled. “Perhaps, I should head over to the men’s dormitory…” he said, “…since you’re planning to stay the night, Martha.”
Martha smiled and lifted her arms to brush the girl’s long dark hair. “Suit yourself. We’re getting to know each other.”
Cantor watched each stroke of the brush. The slow movement pulled Martha’s shift taut against her generous breasts, revealing the luscious curves and hard points. Violet’s eyes closed, and she sighed with pleasure.
Hunger gripped his loins. He was a drowning man.
Martha slid him a sideways glance. “Of course, you’ll put the word out the other men shouldn’t expect a welcome here. Violet needs her sleep.”
Other men? Cantor could imagine stepping into the dorm and the men fleeing out the back as quick as rats to present themselves at his cabin’s doorway. Double damn! He couldn’t leave the women unprotected. Could he?
Violet opened her wide, almond-shaped eyes and smiled at him. “Are you feeling well, Can-torr? You look a little flushed. Are you warm?”
On fire, he was. Thank God, she didn’t understand what she did to him just saying his name. The poor thing would be terrified.
“Why don’t you have a seat,” Martha said, nodding toward the empty side of the bed. “Violet’s right. You don’t look well. Besides, you haven’t gotten a chance to talk to Violet, yet. You should make an effort to know her since she’ll be sharing your cabin.”
This time, he didn’t imagine Martha’s mischievous smile. The minx knew how uncomfortable he was and was exacting a fiendish revenge. That revelation set his back up and gave him something other than his cock to think about. What was she up to?
Cantor walked to the bed and sat down. Sliding his legs onto the mattress, he grabbed a couple of the pillows to wedge against the headboard and sat back, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Tell me about yourself, Violet,” he said, all the while watching Martha’s profile as she continued to stroke the girl’s hair.
Martha’s lips thinned, almost imperceptibly. His attentions to the girl bothered her.
“There is not much to tell,” the girl said, in her lovely, lilting tones. “I lived a quiet life with my mother and my aunts.”
“What of a father and uncles?”
“Uncles?” She giggled. “I have no uncles. Only my mother and my aunts and my forty-three siblings.”
“Right. You were raised in a ha’arem.” Where women are trained to serve men. He didn’t want to think about what she had learned from the women of her household, or the fact that she’d had her menses since she was ten. He struggled for another topic. “What have you and Martha been up to, today?”
Again, the girl giggled like chiming bells. “We have been sharing what we know.”
What the hell did that mean? With Martha’s cheeks turning bright as berries, he could only imagine the worst. “And what have you learned, Violet?”
A playful smile placed dimples in her cheeks. “That men love to have their scrotum tongued, but having their anuses breached makes them very nervous.”
Cantor coughed, which thankfully stifled a groan. Good God!
Martha’s shoulders shook with her muffled laughter.
Finally in control of himself, he roared at Martha, “What the hell are you teaching this girl?”
“Me?” she asked, her hand pausing mid-stroke. “I’ve been agog all afternoon learning all sorts of exotic ways to bring a man to—how was it you phrased it, Violet?” She turned to look him directly in the eye. “I remember now—’to a state of heightened agitation prior to ejaculation’.” She winked at him.
“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
“Nice curtains,” she said, with her eyes wide and innocent.
His cock was strangling inside his pants, so ready to burst just a whisper of a touch would make him explode. The one woman he could have teased him mercilessly, and the one he couldn’t just said a man liked to have his scrotum tongued.
His life couldn’t get any more complicated. “I need to sleep. Can you cover some of those lights?” Was that his voice? It sounded rough as gravel.
“Sure.” Martha scooted off the bed, not caring that her shift bunched at her hips, displaying a lovely view of her bare ass. When she bent at the waist to extinguish one of the pots, her glistening cunt peeked at him.
Desperate beyond anything he’d ever experienced, he said, “I’ve got to use the head.” He leapt from the bed and escaped to the tiny, dark bathroom, where he gingerly lowered his breeches. His hand clasped his cock and pumped only twice before he came. Come spurted at the ceiling while he imagined a small pink hand doing the work and a dark head sinking between his legs to tongue his tight balls.
“Ballocks!”
*
Whispers woke him. The voices were light and feminine, and his cock was fully engorged before he’d blinked away the cobwebs left behind by his dreams.
“Your education seems a little one-sided,” he heard Martha say. She lay beside him, but must have turned toward Violet on the far side of the mattress for her voice was muffled.
“Yes, I had no idea a woman could enjoy love-play as well.”
Sweet Violet’s soft whispers stoked the embers of his lust.
“Have you never experienced an orgasm?” Martha asked.
Cantor waited in agony for the answer.
“Women can do that?”
Cantor’s breath stopped, and he had to remind himself to breathe deeply so the two wouldn’t realize he’d woken up and was listening to them.
“Of course.”
“I wondered about that. Cal-andrra seemed to enjoy herself as much as Drago. She made more noise that he did.”
“You watched them make love?” Martha’s voice held laughter.
“I am embarrassed to admit it, but I was very curious.” Her voice dropped lower. “I had never seen a man’s penis before. His was verr-y impressive.”
“He’s a handsome man.” Martha paused, and then had the temerity to ask, “What did it look like?”
“Enormous!” Cantor didn’t like the excitement he heard in her voice. “Straight as a sword—and red, especially around the tip.”
Martha sighed. “Sounds lovely. Calandra’s a lucky girl. Drago loves her very much.”
“And she loves him. She begged to God for him not to stop—several times.”
Martha giggled. “That’s because she was close to coming—you know, close to an orgasm.”
“I have wondered what that feels like. It did not sound like a very comfortable thing. In fact, it seemed almost painful. It made her scream and moan.”
Cantor felt ready for a little moaning himself. His cock and balls were so hard he could drive nails.
“That’s when it’s best,” Martha said with a sigh. “You’ve never brought yourself to orgasm?”
“No.” Her breath caught. “I can do that?”
His fingers dug into the bed sheets.
Martha shifted and rose partway. The faint outline of her shoulder was a dark shadow as she leaned her head on one hand. “Haven’t you ever…touched yourself down there?”
Violet gasped and giggled. “Well, sometimes. And it is mildly pleasurable.”
“Only mildly? Then honey, you aren’t doing it right. I could teach you.”
That was a picture Cantor didn’t need in his mind. Please, let me watch.
“I have so much to learn. I think I would rather concentrate on lessons on how to bring a man to completion. I have learned much from the women in the ha’arem, but I have done nothing—seen almost nothing. I am not sure I would know how to go about it.”
“Would you like to see me make love to a man?”
Cantor shifted his legs apart to make room for his burgeoning erection. He pretended to mutter in his sleep, and then resumed the deep breathing. Curious to the point of pain, he hung on their every word.
“You would let me?”
“I wouldn’t mind you watching.”
“Um, who will you demonstrate with?”
“Well…” Martha’s voice was husky, sending a wicked thrill through Cantor’s body, “we have a man right here.”
He almost trembled with anticipation. They were driving him mad. Part of him wished to take control and shout at the women to stop their ridiculous conversation and go to sleep.
Another part feared they’d simply find some other poor sod to torture, and he’d never allow that. If Violet needed educating, he was man enough to suffer through it. He’d deny himself the ultimate thrill. With him, her body would remain inviolate.
Besides, his body was so primed for sex, his cock was already waving for their attention.
“Take the cover off one of the pots on the nightstand,” Martha whispered. “You’ll need to see what I do.”
“Should we wake him and ask first? What if he becomes angry?” Violet asked, but didn’t hesitate to comply.
Cantor felt the bed lighten as she rose from the mattress.
“He won’t be able to resist once I start working on him. When he wakes up, he’ll be too far gone to protest.”
Cantor bristled. Does she think I’m led by my cock? But he couldn’t work up sufficient anger to stop them. Truth was, he’d been too far gone since the moment he’d entered the cabin.
“It does not seem right to take advantage without permission.”
Good girl! At least Violet has some sense of propriety.
“And if he refuses us? Would you rather see some other man’s cock?”
That seals it. No way was he letting any one of the horny pirates near the girl.
“I would like to see if Can-torr’s man-flesh is as beautiful as the rest of him.”
Cantor nearly preened beneath her compliment and fought a grin.
Soft yellow light filled the room. The women glanced warily over their shoulders and he didn’t bother to try to pretend he still slept. Their blushes pleased him.
Then all their glances slid down his body. His cockstand tented the sheet. Cantor calmly folded his arms behind his head and sent the women a challenging stare.
“You’ve been awake for a while?” Martha asked, biting her bottom lip.
“Mmmm-hmm.”
“Are you…in agreement, then?” He’d never seen Martha anything but confident, so her sudden shyness intrigued him. Had her bluster been for the benefit of the girl?
“What shall I do?” Violet asked, no such reticence evident in her eager expression.
“Nothing,” he said. “You’ll watch. Martha gets to do all the work. She has a talented mouth.”
Martha’s eyes narrowed. Her chin lifted, and she reached for the hem of her shift, drawing it over her head, revealing her pink skin and rounded curves. “You’re to watch, Violet. But Cantor needs all the stimulation he can get. Remove your shift, too.”
Cantor wanted to protest he didn’t need the extra stimulation, or more to the point, he didn’t want to carry around the memory of the girl’s nude body to torment him in the days to come. “Perhaps, this isn’t wise. Violet should learn what she needs to know from her future mate. That man will not be me.”
Martha lifted an eyebrow, seeming unimpressed with his noble speech. “And how will she know if she’s treated well?”
“I promise to be quiet as a mouse.” Violet’s gaze shimmered with excitement. “And please do not feel you must restrain yourselves.”
His cock chose that moment to pulse, noisily rustling the sheet.
“I’m guessing, he votes yes,” Martha said, her lips lifting in a grin.
“He’s the one without a brain,” Cantor muttered. His gaze locked on Violet as she slowly drew the short dress over her head, baring the tops of her thighs, her plump labia, the taut plane of her abdomen, and, finally, the small dark circles with their jutting tips. Violet let the shift fall to the floor beside her feet and crawled back onto the mattress.
Side by side, the women offered a contrast any man would find endlessly fascinating. Martha’s lush womanly curves that could overspill a large man’s hands, against Violet’s supple, girlish figure. Martha’s rosy pink tips and Violet’s dusky brown ones. Martha’s pale down-covered cunt—Violet’s naked lips.
Cantor felt his gaze bounce between the two and his entire body grew so rigid he feared he’d embarrass himself before either woman touched him.
“You’ll need to move to the center of the mattress, Cantor,” Martha said.
He heard her but his brain was sluggish, as though his mind had settled between his legs.
Martha lifted her hands and gestured toward the center of the bed. “To give Violet the best view, I’ll have to move to your other side.”
He got it. Cantor didn’t trust himself to speak an intelligible word, so he slid over silently to the center.
“Okay, Violet, are you ready for your first peek at him?” Martha slowly drew the edge of the sheet down his body.
Cantor’s belly quivered at the caress of the fabric, and his breath caught. When she reached his cock, she tugged to free the sheet from it, and his manhood sprang back to graze his belly before standing proudly erect from his loins.
Violet’s gasp was extremely gratifying, and her eyes grew round. “Are you going to take all of him inside you?”
“He fits. I promise.” Martha’s short sentences were punctuated with shallow breaths.
Again, Cantor gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the bedding. Then he closed his eyes against sensory overload, striving for control over his body.
He felt one of the women shift, sliding over his belly to settle on the other side of him, completely avoiding his aching cock.
“When a woman makes love to a man,” Martha said, “she has choices. If she want
s to take him quickly, she can go straight for his cock. If she wants to draw the pleasure out, she explores farther afield.”
Cantor’s cock voted for quick. When Martha didn’t make a move toward the center of his torment, Cantor opened his eyes to glare at her.
The twinkle in her gaze told him she knew very well how enflamed he was. “What do you think of Cantor’s body, Violet?” she asked, her gaze never leaving his.
“I like it.”
“No, tell me what you see.”
Cantor took a deep breath. His need was so strong he had the overwhelming urge to take Martha to the mattress and slam his flesh into her cunt. But he’d frighten the hell out of the girl if he took Martha like an animal now. He clenched his hands behind his head while his body remained as taut as a newly strung bow.
“He is very large, not just…his sword. And golden, like the sun. The muscles of his chest and stomach are so rigid they look as though carved from stone, and his arms are larger than my thighs.”
“How does all that power make you feel?”
“Very wet…in my woman’s flesh. Quivery inside my belly. And I can’t breathe.”
Cantor noted her cheeks were flushed a bright pink, and her areolas dimpled. Oh God, I’m going to die.
“Would you like to know what his muscles feel like?”
Cantor growled deep in his throat and glared at Martha.
“She’s curious.” Martha’s tone was chiding. “Let her touch you.” Martha’s own nipples were engorged, like plump, pink candies and the scent of her arousal teased his nostrils.
He nodded and braced himself to receive the girl’s first touch.
Violet crept closer on the mattress. Her hands settled on his shoulders, smoothing over the tops of his arms, then along the underside until she reached his armpits. Her touch wasn’t tentative as he’d expected, and she didn’t hesitate to rake her nails through the tuffs of hair.
“You have to say what you feel,” Martha reminded her.
“His skin is smooth and soft, but the muscle beneath is as hard as stone.” She sounded breathless, and excitement shone in her eyes.
Planet Desire Page 5