The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  “I can have a plane at Ocean Isle by eight in the morning if that works for you.”

  “Mmmm, let’s make it nine-thirty okay? I still have some things I have to do here and I’m not completely packed yet.” I had to check in with my doctor and find out if I could even do this thing that Michael had asked me about.

  “That’s fine. A man named Craig will be picking you up and flying you to Charlotte where my driver’ll meet you. It’ll take about forty-five minutes to get to my office where I’ll be waiting to take you to lunch. Then I want to take you to my house and show you around there before we get ready for a night on the town.”

  “It sounds wonderful! I can hardly wait.”

  “I am as anxious as a kid still wet behind the ears. How about you?”

  “Oh, I’m wet, never fear,” I teased. I loved being flirty with him, and he always appreciated a good double entendre. “You are so naughty. I love it.”

  “I was under the impression that was something you required.”

  “Most definitely. So, what did I catch you doing?” We never mentioned his alter ego, Peter, as neither of us wanted to ruin the game we were playing, so I couldn’t tell him exactly what I was doing. I decided to be vague. “Just thumbing through a magazine.”

  “I can imagine a woman like you reads a lot of off the wall stuff, what’s drawing your interest tonight?” I swallowed. “Trends in women’s haircuts.”

  “You girls are always coming up with something new to do with your hair. I hope you don’t change yours; I like it just the way it is.”

  I was walking around the room, fidgeting—nervously centering things and toying with them while I held the phone to my ear. I smiled, parted my robe and looked down. Short of gluing on a toupee there wasn’t much I could do to change my “hairstyle” overnight.

  “You don’t have to worry, I’m kind of fond of it this way, too.”

  “Good! So, I’ll leave you to your packing and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Uh, Philip . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “What are the accommodations going to be like tomorrow night?”

  “You’ll be sleeping with me.”

  “At your house?”

  “At my house, in my room, in my bed. You might as well get used to it.”

  “Just wondered.”

  “Get some sleep, you may not get very much tomorrow night. ’Night, Viv, pleasant dreams.”

  “Goodnight, Philip.”

  As soon as I hung up I knelt and found the magazine under the cushion. I continued where I had left off and finally decided on a picture of a woman standing with her legs clamped together looking as modest as one could look with a shaved pussy. I hoped Philip wouldn’t contest it.

  With any luck, he would check his email before turning in and send the next scene because there was no way I was going to be able to sleep tonight knowing that tomorrow night I would be in bed with him.

  I photographed the photo, purposely making the focus fuzzy, cropped out the six-pack abs, and attached it to an email saying:

  Can’t get used to using the timer, got back just in time, sorry it’s fuzzy. Please send me Felicity’s wedding night. FINAL payment attached.

  I went to open a bottle of wine and was pouring a healthy glass when I heard the telltale chime letting me know I had mail.

  PeterPeterPeater: This is not the FINAL chapter, so that is not the FINAL payment. But do enjoy. Undoubtedly you know what the next picture has to be of. And I don’t care if you use a timer or someone else takes the picture, I want your fingers spreading your lips. I want to see your vagina, and I want it crystal clear or you won’t get the final installment. Peter.

  They said their goodbyes and then her new husband helped her into his carriage. Felicity had noticed the handsome lacquered coach with the fancy escutcheon and the opulent scrollwork with the pristine, prancing horses when she had looked out her window before heading to the chapel at noon. She had assumed it belonged to one of her father’s guests. To realize this magnificent carriage belonged to her husband made her giddy. The ideathat shenow belonged to him too, made her shiver.

  Her husband kissed her hand before releasing it and then joined her on the forward facing seat. She hadn’t expected that and had to shift to the side to avoid him crushing her gown. After a few enthusiastic waves and taunting jeers from her friends, a groomsman closed the door and latched it. Giving it a sound pat, he signaled the driver and within seconds the horses had responded to the call to action and were at a full trot.

  Her husband leaned over to kiss her on the cheek then slid to the opposite seat. He bent to take one of her feet in his hands and she jumped with fright, almost pulling it back. He lifted it and brought it to his lap then quickly undid the fastenings on the high-top shoe and let it fall to the floor with a thump. Firm but gentle hands began to massage her stockinged instep and then afterward, each toe. She couldn’t help the moan of delight that escaped her lips. She’d been standing for what seemed like many hours.

  “Like that do you?”

  “How did you know my feet were aching so?” “Unless I miss my guess, these appear to be new shoes. The leather is very stiff, and I noticed that you’ve been wincing.” He looked down and traced a red chafe mark with his thumb. “I hope that wasn’t due to our dancing, it would pain me to know that while I was holding you in my arms and waltzing you around the room that you were in agony.” He bent to kiss the red mark and then brought the other foot up and began to untie the shoe.

  “It wasn’t the dancing, that was early on. It was all the standing and curtseying that came later.” There was a moment of silence before she asked, “Why did you not tell me you were a marquess as well as a doctor?”

  “When I realized I wanted you, I wanted you to want me for myself. I wanted you to consider me for a suitor. I wanted to court you as a lowly doctor, not as an elevated marquess.”

  “What changed your mind and made you ravish me in public instead?” There was just the hint of anger in her voice.

  “You changed my mind, you tempted me beyond all reason. When I heard footsteps approaching I decided not to take a chance on losing you, so I sealed your fate to mine. I wanted you and I saw a way to have you.”

  “Did you not care at all about what I might want?”

  “Honestly? No, not once.”

  “Am I to call you Dr. Larkenson as I did before or am I to address you as My Lord?” The anger was back in full force.

  “My name is Carderick, all my friends call me Card, and as I am hoping we will be good friends, you may call me either—in public, it would be best if you deferred to my rank with ‘My Lord.’ Of course,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye, “there will be times that I will insist on ‘Master.’” “Master?”

  “I own you, and there will be times that I will want to remind you of that.” The predatory look in his eyes was feral and while it should have scared her, it intrigued her instead. Her eyes widened but she didn’t comment.

  Several minutes passed while they simply stared at each other. Then Felicity spoke, her voice soft. “You didn’t need to fondle me so, that day after Robert’s attack, did you?”

  “No.”

  “You looked at me longer than necessary too, didn’t you?” She blushed and he knew to where she was referring.

  “Yes.”

  “And why was it necessary to examine my breasts, your job as you stated, was to ‘verify my status.’”

  “I am a doctor, and your father thought your nipple had been bitten. I wanted to check for bruising and to see if anything needed my attention. Had the skin been broken you chanced an infection.”

  “And was there anything . . . ” she blushed again, this time turning completely crimson, “that needed your attention?”

  He smiled and nodded slightly. Was she flirting with him? His cock jumped at the thought that she might be. “There was indeed. I found something that needed my attention, and after I had taken care of it, I
decided I wanted to keep taking care of it.”

  “If that’s true, why did you wait so long to see me again? Weren’t you afraid another man might find me suitable bride material and acceptable to marry, despite the rumors Robert was circulating?”

  “Robert kept that from happening by continually assuring everyone otherwise—in graphic terms I might add, that you would not be ‘acceptable.’ I debated confronting him with that issue openly several times, but then realized it was to my advantage to have everyone believe him. I owe him a debt of gratitude. If it hadn’t been for him and his attack on you, we never would have met. I never would have been asked to come and validate you.”

  “So why did you wait, why did you not approach me sooner?”

  “I had to be sure, and I wanted to give you time to get over the trauma of what you’d been through.”

  “It wasn’t all that bad, since he had been drinking and couldn’t really . . .”

  “Get his penis to cooperate?”

  Felicity gasped at his use of the crude word.

  “I am a physician, you’ll have to get used to my clinically accurate terminology. Now, answer the question. Was Robert unable to get his penis hard?”

  Felicity gulped. “It did not seem so, at first, but then I have nothing to compare.”

  “How large did it feel?”

  She used her fingers spread to indicate a length of maybe three inches.

  Carderick laughed. “You may have been right then. Would you like to see a penis as it’s supposed to be before such an occasion? I happen to have one handy.”

  Felicity’s eyes went wide, wider than they’d been before and her head shook back and forth with her jaw open and her chin wobbling.

  “I am not the best example, as I am larger than most,” he said, still smoothing his hands over the foot he held in his lap. Then he quirked his eyebrow at her and began rubbing her heel along the length of him, the very hard, very pronounced length of him.

  He continued to smile while she gaped open mouthed. His was indeed much longer, and considerably harder.

  “I believethat womenshould be introduced to a man’s erection long before the marriage bed. I think it would lessen the fear and the anxiety. In fact, I think they should become acquainted with it, learn its nuances, touch it, stroke it and even kiss it long before the man attempts to force it inside her. Consummation would not be quite so . . . traumatic, if men took the time to acquaint their brides with their manhood instead of just shoving their penises inside their tight vaginas.”

  Felicity managed to close her mouth but was unable to take her eyes away when he moved her feet to the side and began to unbutton the flap on his trousers.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea . . .”

  “Yes, well . . . I do. And I’m the one with the experience. And I am, after all, a doctor. I know best.” He continued to ease out button after button and then as the last button let loose and the gap widened, his hand disappeared and reappeared with an angry-looking appendage that was both fearsome and powerful looking.

  Felicity stared at this tall, fleshy mass that poked through the opening. She could see it leaping in his hand against a backdrop of dark curling hairs and thickening as it continued to grow. His hand moved to its base and began a slow, upward stroke. “This is my penis,” he said. “Men often refer to them as their cock, or their Johnny, their snake, or their prick.” One hand reached down below the base while the other continued to stroke up and down. “These are my testicles, commonly referred to as a man’s bullocks.” The huge hairy sac filled up the area between his penis and the seat bottom as he lifted it out of the opening. He squeezed it lightly with his hand and held it toward for her inspection. “They like to be touched, and kissed, and licked, but always gently, and with great care. Come, kneel at my feet and examine my genitals, as thoroughly as I did yours. I wish you to get to know me. Touch me. Fondle me. Caress me, And if you can bear it, I would love it if you could kiss both my penis and my scrotum, my ball sac.”

  She stared at the monstrosity between his legs that was growing bigger and bigger with each downward stroke. Unable to take her eyes off it, she swallowed and said, ”You can’t be serious?”

  “Oh but I am. And it is your duty now, as my wife to see to my lusts. It is required of you.”

  “In a carriage? And isn’t that where you . . . pass water?”

  “Anywhere I desire you is where you must service me. I am your husband and I require it. And yes, yes it is, but a man’s penis can only handle one function at a time. It is clean and awaiting your touch.”

  “I don’t know how to touch it or where.”

  “I assure you that your slightest touch anywhere will garner my heartfelt appreciation.” He held his hand out to her and she tentatively put her hand in his. She let him pull her off the seat to kneel at his feet. When she was kneeling between his legs, he wrapped his hand around her head, tangling his long fingers in her hair and tipping her head down. “Kiss the tip and it will jump for you,” he murmured as he thumbed the large crown down, in line with her mouth.

  After a long hesitation, she leaned in and with the barest touch, put her lips against the purpling head. It did jump. It amazed her. He groaned and a pearly drop escaped and ran down the thumb he had used to bring it down to her level. His breathing changed, becoming raspy. She looked up and met his eyes and although they were half-closed, she could see the hot desire burning in them. Desire for her, and what she could do to him. It was a heady feeling and not at all what she had been expecting.

  “Lick, suck, I don’t care which, just put it in your mouth . . . please,” he entreated. She looked down and saw his fist wrapped around it, pumping. An anguished sob escaped his lips and made her look up at his face. She saw that his neck had been thrown back and his head was now resting on the seat back. His long throat was bare, his Adam’s apple pulsing. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed tightly together, and when she bent and did as he asked and sucked the crown of his penis into her mouth, she heard a long hiss escape from them. She had never felt such power.

  Not knowing what to do, she sucked it in further, and then because her tongue was in the way, she moved it, inadvertently stroking the underside of his penis. She heard a loud “Aaaargh!” just before a warm, slick fluid filled her mouth. It sounded as if he was in excruciating pain, but somehow she knew he was not, that it was just the opposite, and she reveled in the knowledge that she was able to bring this marquess to the very same base nature as any common man.

  He heard his own harsh, guttural groan as is penis throbbed against the roof of her mouth, jerking and spasming as he emptied into her. He knew that his hand, clamped tightly to her head, forcing her to suck his cum down her throat was a despicably low thing to do and as degrading an act for a lady as could be, but he could not have stopped himself. It felt so good—he would not stop himself.

  Then just as suddenly as his hand had gripped her head to him, he released it. As his fingers lingered in her hair he moaned. “Oh Sweet Jesus! I didn’t mean to do that! I’m sorry, my love.” But he knew he’d do it again, despite his words, in just the same way. God help him, he would—many, many times. In exactly the same way.

  Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms and he lifted her easily off the floor, placing her gingerly on his lap.

  “Felicity, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Not that way, not the first time. And I wish I could say that I regret it, but honestly, I do not.”

  “What did I do wrong? What was supposed to happen?”

  He chuckled. “You did nothing wrong. Apparently you did everything right. Unfortunately, I wanted you more than it was humanly possible to contain. I came much too soon. You surprised me with your eagerness. I promise to do better next time.”

  “Next time?” she squeaked out, and he smiled while rubbing the back of her neck.

  “Well, we will revisit this again, but seeing as you’re accomplished at fellatio now, we’ll move on. I
promise that my next erection will be used solely for the purpose of consummating our marriage.”

  “Are we going to do that now, doesn’t it require a marriage bed? I’ve always heard that’s where a marriage is supposed to consummated.”

  He stroked her cheek and looked into her beautiful face as she reclined on his lap, looking up at him, her sweet, innocent face in stark contrast to the act she had just performed.

  “Actually it can happen anywhere, and in a vast variety of ways, but I would like it to happen in my bed, in my house, with you under me looking as lovely as you look now. And no, we can’t do it now, even if we were in said bed. It takes a man time to ah . . . recover after . . . well, after doing what I just did—Good God, I can’t believe I ejaculated into your mouth.” He groaned, “And that you swallowed it.” He had a mystical look on his face as he shook his head back and forth.

  “I wasn’t supposed to?”

  He groaned again and snorted inelegantly. “Well, yes. That is preferred. But it is usually something that takes time to uh . . . accept. No, I’m going to be honest with you,” he said resolutely. “Women usually have to be coerced to do that—coerced, bribed, or threatened—to take a man’s cum into their mouth and then to swallow it. Most simply don’t.”

  “Why? It was delicious.”

  He groaned again and covered his eyes with his hand. This couldn’t be happening. No man could be this fortunate.

  “Anyway, back to the marriage bed and tonight. Men need to regain their strength after having an orgasm, we have to allow our bodies some time to be able to redirect the blood again.”

  “How long does this usually take?”

  “With a young man, only a few minutes. A man such as myself maybe half an hour, an older man, maybe a whole day. There are many factors, desire being the most significant. And health matters do come into play.”

  “So the fact that you are able to enlarge yourself for me means that you desire me then?”

  “Ohhhh, yes. I certainly do. And by the time we reach East Riding, I’m afraid it will be apparent to all, just how much,” he said with chagrin as he kissed his pretty wife’s nose.