The footman’s smile broadened. “My mother thought you might decide that all of the princes were equally dull. She also knew that the king would have to obey your wishes, even if you chose a prince who hadn’t been invited. She decided to sneak me in spite of the fact that your father refused to invite me.”
Veronica propped herself upon her elbow. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“I am Prince Charles of Maravia. My mother, your godmother, was sure that we would be perfect together, and now I agree with her. She has been trying to end the war between our two countries for many years, but your father wouldn’t listen. She decided on this ruse to get us together in spite of your father’s feelings. It will solve so many problems.”
“Then you’re a real prince?” Veronica asked.
“Crown and all,” Charles said.
Veronica laughed and wrapped her arms around Charles’s neck. “That’s the best news I’ve had. And the mirror worked. It did show me the face of my future husband.”
“It certainly did,” the prince said. Then he rolled Veronica over and made love with her all night.
JACK AND JILL
Once upon a time, there was a young couple named Jack and Jill.
Jack and Jill enjoyed their occasional trips to a spring about halfway up Hickory Mountain, where they would fill up several plastic containers with the fresh icy cold spring water that ran out of a fissure in the rock. The spring was in a remote area where few others ever visited, so sometimes they paused in their water-gathering efforts to make love in the open air. Today Jack had more elaborate plans.
They hiked up to the spring and enjoyed some time in the sun, sunbathing their favorite way—nude. After an hour or so, they devoured the magnificent lunch that they had brought along. After lunch, Jack filled several of the large plastic gallon jugs with water. By the time he finished, Jill was lying among the trees, taking a nap. Jack gazed down at Jill’s sleeping face, then unzipped his knapsack and withdrew four long, soft ropes. Silently, he tied the ropes to four of the trees that surrounded Jill. As gently as he could, he tied each of Jill’s wrists to one of the trees.
As she awakened, Jill was aware of Jack tying a rope to one of her ankles.
“Jack, what are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting ready to have some fun. As you can see, you’re almost completely helpless, tied hand and foot and so beautiful.”
“Jack, don’t be ridiculous,” she said. She had never been in such a situation before and she felt she should protest loudly. “Untie me this instant,” she said, knowing what he had in mind. Being tied and helpless was making her very wet between her legs.
Jack finished tying one of her ankles. Then he reached up and ran his finger through the furry patch between Jill’s legs. “You tell me to untie you, but you’re soaking wet. Soon you’ll see that you have no choice and you’ll have to lie back and enjoy it.”
He took Jill’s other ankle and tied it to the fourth rope. When he was finished, he stood up and looked down.
“It excites me to see you so wide open for me. I love feeling that I can do anything I want to your luscious body.”
Jill did indeed have a beautiful body. Her breasts were full and round, pulled up by the stretching of her arms over her head. Her bush was blond and matched her short blond hair. Her large moss-green eyes just looked at Jack and her tiny pink tongue licked her full red lips.
“You can’t mean this, Jack,” she said, hoping that he did mean all of it.
Jack said nothing as he walked over to the water jugs. Jill loved watching him walk. His ass was small and tight, below his broad shoulders and massive back. His arms and legs were well muscled from the many outdoor activities he enjoyed. His brown hair was shoulder-length and had a few sun-bleached blond streaks.
Jill couldn’t remember ever being so excited. Jack returned with one of the plastic water jugs and a small nail. He took another rope and suspended the water jug between two branches so it hung over Jill’s naked body. Then he used the nail to poke a small hole in the plastic.
He adjusted the bottle until a tiny stream of icy water began to fall on Jill’s right nipple. Jack walked around to her left side and took her left nipple in his mouth, it was already hard from the effect of the cold water. He sucked while the cold water dripped on Jill’s other breast. The combination of cold and warmth was driving Jill crazy.
Jack leaned forward and caught the stream in his mouth. He filled his mouth with icy water and then wrapped his lips around Jill’s nipple. Icy water caressed her hot, swollen breast.
“Jack,” she said, “you’re driving me crazy. Untie me and then we can make love.”
“Not yet, darling. Not for quite a while, I have a few more surprises for you.”
“But I want you now,” she begged.
Jack looked at her and smiled. “From what I see,” he said, looking at the ropes that held her spread-eagled, “you have very little choice.”
He stood up and momentarily stopped the stream of water. Jill sighed, glad that Jack was done playing.
Suddenly, she felt the stream, this time on her cunt. The water was dripping on her clit and trickling down between her legs. She started to move her hips, trying to move the stream of water away from her hot core. As her hips moved, the stream of water played across her wet lips and the ticklish places inside her thighs. It was sweet torture.
“I love to watch your hips writhe like that,” Jack said.
Jill realized that moving just accentuated the teasing sensations. She was so hungry, but the frigid water was preventing her from climaxing. She pressed her hips into the ground and tried to hold still.
“That’s a good girl,” Jack said. “Just lie still while I get something else for us to play with.”
Jill wondered what Jack was doing, but she couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was the stream of water between her legs.
Jack returned and spent a moment sucking her swollen breasts. Then he held something up for Jill to see. “What’s that?” Jill said.
“I would think it was obvious, but I’ll explain it, anyway. This,” he said as he showed her the toy in his hand, “is a dildo. But it’s a special kind. You’re supposed to fill it with warm water so it feels more natural inside. In this case, however, it will feel a little different.”
Jack reached up and took down the jug. Jill sighed, enjoying the cessation of the cold stream.
Jack began to lick Jill’s frozen cunt. His tongue lapped at her flesh, stroking her from anus to clit. He could feel how hot Jill was and he didn’t want her to climax too quickly. He picked up the dildo and touched Jill’s hot pussy.
Jill screamed. “Jack, that’s ice-cold.”
Jack smiled. “I know. It should cool you off just a bit.” He inserted the cold plastic into Jill’s cunt and pushed the frosty dildo deeper inside. She thrashed and Jack wasn’t sure whether she was trying to push the dildo out or suck it in.
Jack watched Jill’s head whip from side to side as her hips bucked and her arms and legs strained against the ropes holding her open for him.
When the dildo was all the way into Jill’s cunt, he started to lick her clit again.
The combination of hot and cold sensations was too much for Jill. She climaxed more violently than she had ever imagined possible.
She spasmed for a long time, then Jack pulled the dildo out and lay down beside her. They slept for a while. Then Jill was awakened to the feeling of Jack’s fully erect cock pressing between her legs. Slowly, he pushed the entire length of himself into her, then he was still.
She felt a sudden cold on her clit. Jack was stroking her with the dildo, now full of icy fresh water. As he stroked and her hips moved, his erection pounded inside her.
She climaxed quickly and the spasms of her body pulled Jack’s climax from him. Later, Jack untied Jill and they walked back down the hill.
From then on, they went up the mountain almost every w
eek. And they lived happily ever after.
13
STORY STARTERS
Now that your imagination is working overtime, you may want to write your own story. My partner recently wrote one that combined many of his favorite fantasies, a story that was unlike anything I had written. We spent a few wonderful evenings with it. First, we spent an evening enjoying the sexual excitement that he had built up writing it, then on another evening I read it aloud to him. We spent other nights playacting sections.
Some of you will be sufficiently relaxed to write your own story, but it’s often very difficult to begin. it is embarrassing and very awkward to put your innermost sexual fantasies on paper, and even worse to show the results to your partner. But if you can, do it by all means. And don’t worry about grammar or syntax, just write it. I can tell you from personal experience that it’s fantastic.
To make creating your own fantasy a bit easier, here’s a simpler way to put your imagination to use. This chapter contains a number of what I call story starters. Each short-story introduction consists of a scene and some characters who get themselves into a sexual situation. The story ends just as things are heating up.
Take some time and read through them, then suggest that your partner do the same. Find one that seems as if it would be fun to read aloud. Then, when my writing stops, improvise. What do the characters do? What do they say? You and your partner can continue the action and create alternate paragraphs. When you decide to stop talking and do something, that’s when the real fun starts.
With all the stories that I have included in this and other sections of this book, I still may have missed your favorite fantasy. This is where you can associate freely and wander into your personal world. You can even write the rest of the story out, bookmark it, and give it to your partner.
Would you like to spank your partner or use a vibrator? How about showering together and making love under the running water? Maybe you’d like to take Polaroid pictures of your partner during lovemaking. There are as many sexual fantasies as there are people who fantasize.
If your partner is doing the improvisation, realize that he may be trying to suggest something in one of these fantasies. Be aware that maybe the time has come to go from talking to doing. Seize the moment.
SEDUCTION
It had been almost three weeks since Herb had first read the article that his wife, Betty, bookmarked for him. She wanted to play seduction. She wanted to be seduced by a strange man on their first date.
At first, he had been insulted. The romance was certainly not gone from their thirty-year marriage. Was it? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that a little seduction wouldn’t be out of place. It would be nice to recapture some of the old feelings.
Once he came to terms with the idea of seducing his wife, he spent many hours setting the scene and deciding on all the props he would need. If he was going to do it at all, he was going to do it right. He found that just fantasizing about slowly seducing his wife was unexpectedly exciting.
He was finally ready on a Thursday morning. First, he sent his wife a dozen yellow roses with a card saying, “Please have dinner with me this evening at a little Italian restaurant I know of. If it’s all right with you, I’ll pick you up at 6:30.” He signed the note H. He thought about adding the word Love, but it didn’t seem to go with the idea of seduction by a stranger.
Early in the afternoon, he found a telephone message on his desk: “Six thirty would be wonderful,” and it was signed B.
Mid-afternoon, he went to a local men’s store to look for a new image for the evening. Betty always commented that blue brought out the color of his eyes, so he selected a new dress shirt in a color between robin’s egg and sky blue. While he was there, he bought a new dark blue striped tie. It was far from his usual style, and as he looked in the mirror at the picture he presented, he was pleased.
At exactly 6:30, he arrived at his own front door and rang the bell. Betty opened the door and didn’t seem at all surprised that he hadn’t used his key. She looked beautiful in a soft gray wool skirt and a silky pink blouse.
“You’re right on time,” she said. “I like that in a man.”
They dined at a little Italian restaurant that had been recommended to him by a man in his office. He was delighted, more by the atmosphere than the fine food. The lights were low, with most of the illumination from candles on each table. There was soft violin music and there were little screens to separate each table from the others. Herb ordered a bottle of Chianti, which complemented the dinner.
During the meal, he and Betty made small talk. Both of them deliberately stayed away from the topics they usually discussed—the children, their friends, their hard days at work.
At one end of the room, there was a small dance floor. After the main course, they danced but held each other at a discreet distance. It was not yet time for intimacy.
On the way home, Betty asked, “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”
It didn’t seem at all silly that he was being invited to have coffee in his own house. “I’d like that,” he said softly.
When they arrived home, Betty went into the kitchen to make coffee. Herb took advantage of the moment to take off his jacket and arrange a dozen candles around the living room. He turned off all the other lights and put some soft music on the phonograph.
Betty walked into the living room and Herb took the coffee from her. “Dance with me,” he said in a husky voice.
They came together, their arms around each other. They held each other close and each felt the length of the other’s body. Herb pressed his cheek against Betty’s hair and inhaled her perfume. “I love your fragrance,” he murmured in her ear.
“Thank you,” she said. “Is this a new shirt?”
“I hoped you would like it,” he said. It was suddenly very important that she liked his selection.
“It’s extremely becoming.”
As they swayed gracefully with the music, Herb sensuously caressed his wife’s back from her neck to her waist. Suggestively, he pressed his erection against her belly and he felt her body respond. He breathed warm air on her ear and kissed her hair. The music ended, but he held her until the next song played. He was in no hurry.
They danced for half an hour and punctuated the music with long, luxurious kisses. Then he whispered in her ear, “Shall we go upstairs?”
She nodded. He kept his arm around her waist as they walked upstairs to the bedroom.
SUBMISSION
Suzanne had no idea what the stranger wanted, but she told James to put him in the front parlor while she freshened up in her room. What could he want with me? she wondered as she looked at herself in the glass. The face that looked back at her was more youthful than her twenty years would have indicated. Her large eyes were the color of deep blue water and her lips were soft and sensuously full. Her blond hair was fashioned into a pile of curls on top of her head and her full-skirted light rose morning gown enhanced her recently matured figure.
Well, she thought, there’s nothing to do but ask him. She pinched her cheeks to enhance their natural color and left her room.
She glided gracefully down the central staircase and opened the large oak door to the front parlor. Bright morning sunshine streamed through the tall casement windows and a shaft fell on the stranger as he stood next to Suzanne’s father’s desk.
As his back was to her, she took a minute to look at him. He stood with a lazy posture, his hand gracefully resting on the surface of the desk. His tight buff-colored breeches clung to his muscular thighs. His tightly fitted forest-brown jacket accented his broad shoulders. He turned and she gazed into a pair of deep brown eyes. He’s a good-looking man, she thought as she approached him.
“Ah, Miss Armstrong,” he said. His voice was soft and smooth, but Suzanne sensed a purpose beneath the casual tone.
“You obviously know me, sir, but have we met?”
“Not formally. I am Jeffery St. Mark
s, at your service.” He inclined his head slightly.
“What can I do for you, Mr. St. Marks?”
“That’s a bit of a long story. Shall we sit?”
Suzanne settled gracefully in a wing chair by the fireplace. “May I offer you some refreshments?”
“It’s a bit early.” He lazily surveyed her body. Lovely. Just lovely. And with her superior family history, she would do nicely. She was going to be worth all his trouble. Indeed she was.
She stared at him quizzically. When he offered no information, she said, “What can I do for you?”
“You can do a lot, my dear. I intend, probably this very week, to make love to you, and then, if you please me as I suspect you will, to marry you.”
Suzanne was appalled. How dare he! “My dear sir,” she said, her eyes flashing, “I don’t know what has made you think that I would sit here and listen to this nonsense, but whatever it was, you were sadly misled.”
She started to rise, but Jeffery leaned forward and placed a strong hand on her forearm, holding her firmly. “I wouldn’t be too quick,” he said, his voice still soft. “I think you should wait until you hear my story before you ruin your life, as well as those of your parents.”
Suzanne glared at Jeffery but remained seated.
“Before I explain, perhaps you would answer one question for me.”
Suzanne continued to sit in stony silence.
Jeffery smiled. “You’re already twenty years old, well past the age that women usually marry. Why haven’t you married? You’re so beautiful, surely you’ve had dozens of proposals.”
“I don’t think it’s any of your concern, but I’ll answer, if only to get rid of you. I was engaged to Philippe Martineaux when I was sixteen. It was a love match, but two months before the marriage, he died of the fever. My father said that I should wait until I fall in love again, and I’ve not met anyone since as good and kind as Philippe.”
Nice Couples Do Page 15