Sudden Pleasures

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Sudden Pleasures Page 10

by Bertrice Small


  “Wedding gown, or no?” she said. “You never said which you would prefer.”

  “I think you should be a bride,” he told her. “But it doesn’t have to be a Princess Di kind of gown. Something simple, but something that when you look back at the pictures of your first wedding you won’t regret what you wore and cringe. They say the first time is always special.”

  “That’s sweet, Ryan,” Ashley said. “And thoughtful too.”

  “I’m a sensitive guy,” he said teasingly, and then he rubbed his crotch suggestively, leering at her with a grin.

  “You need a cold shower, buddy,” she said.

  “I’ll settle for a swim,” he responded.

  “Good idea! Go change, and I’ll meet you at the poolhouse. I want to take this menu to Mrs. B. first so she can begin considering the wedding dinner.” Getting up, she hurried off toward the kitchens while he got up and went out to the poolhouse, where his bathing suits now permanently resided.

  As he waited for her, swimming slow laps back and forth in the pool, he decided he was going to like this lifestyle. Ashley had told him that the pool was enclosed each winter, and heated so they could swim then. Yep, he was going to like it all. It was going to be getting unused to it in two years that would be hard. He climbed out of the pool and lay down on a chaise to get some sun.

  She watched him from the poolhouse. Jesus, he was gorgeous! And that tight little European bathing suit he was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He had a fabulous butt, and he wasn’t a guy who would ever need to stuff a sock in his shorts. From the size of his discreet wad he had to be as big as her two lovers on the Channel. Ashley pulled on the black one-piece suit, grabbed a towel, and stepped outside.

  “How’s the water?” she asked casually as she approached him.

  “Good,” he said, trying not to be too obvious as he assessed her. What a body she had! Those beautiful breasts of hers were very visible in that deceptively modest suit she was wearing. And her ass! Mamma mia! Round and tight. He fought himself not to reach out and grab it. She was not a petite girl, but there wasn’t an ounce of flab on her, and she was in perfect proportion. Now he was really looking forward to seeing her naked. And he had another couple of weeks to go. He wasn’t certain he was going to make it.

  She knew he was looking her over despite the fan of dark eyelashes brushing his tanned cheek. She bent to carefully lay her towel on the empty chaise, giving him a nice long look at her tits. She slowly rubbed sunscreen on one leg, and then the other. On one arm, and then the other. Then she did her face and chest. “Do my back and shoulders, will you?” she asked innocently, handing him the tube. She sat on the edge of his chaise with her back to him.

  He smoothed on the sunscreen with long, leisurely strokes of his palm, rubbing her flesh with a sensuous motion until it tingled. Her back was long and flawless. She had good skin. “I think I’ve got you covered,” he finally said.

  “Thanks,” Ashley replied, standing, and then walking into the pool. “Nice,” she said when she was waist deep.

  He joined her, and they swam together for several minutes, back and forth, forth and back. She was a good swimmer, and so was he. “Ever swim naked in here?” he asked her with a mischievous grin.

  “Sometimes,” she allowed. “At night, when I know no one is about and can see me. And no, I am not going to swim naked now, and neither are you,” Ashley told him firmly. “This is ridiculous, Ryan. We seem to have a case of raging hormones, and we just have to get past it. We aren’t kids, damn it!”

  “Then why do I feel like an eighteen-year-old around you?” he wanted to know.

  “You’re horny! You admitted yourself that you haven’t had a woman in a while. And now that Dr. Sam has checked us both for STDs you’d better not! You are celibate until August twenty-fifth, and that’s that!” Ashley told him. “If I can do it, you can do it. Don’t be such a big baby, Ryan. I can’t believe you can’t stay out of trouble until then.” She climbed out of the pool and stretched out on the chaise. She felt a twinge of guilt after that righteous little lecture she had just given him. Too bad he didn’t have the Channel. She had really been getting her money’s worth out of it lately, and it was actually the only way she had been able to resist his blandishments.

  Quinn and Rurik were good lovers, but now that she had met Ryan Mulcahy she felt like a starving woman in front of a candy counter. She wanted to know what it would feel like to lie naked against his naked body. She wanted to feel his weight on her, his cock plundering her vagina, his mouth and his tongue on her, driving her wild with longing. Just thinking about it made her antsy, even though she had the Channel. If he felt the same way—and he obviously did—the waiting must be agony, but wait they would.

  It wasn’t easy, but Ryan’s being in the city all week helped them both. And there was the Channel. Ashley was beginning to get a little bored with her two fantasies. Still, she didn’t want to delete them. She had spent a lot of time perfecting them. Instead she decided to add a new element to the one with Quinn. It was time to introduce the lady Cordelia’s husband, Tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius, into the picture. She smiled. Yes, it was time the tribune came home from campaign. Stretching out on her bed, she pressed the button that slid the wall back to reveal her television, and then she pushed A.

  The villa was bustling with activity as the slaves prepared for their master’s homecoming from northern Gaul. The lady of the house was stretched out as a slave massaged her body with a lily-scented cream. Quinn crept into the chamber and waited for her to recognize that he was there. Finally she cast a glance his way.

  “My husband will be home shortly. You will confine yourself to your quarters until he has departed again. You know how he hates to see you and that lovely big cock of yours. Even though he gave you to me so I would behave while he is away, he does not wish to be reminded that you are foraging between my legs while he is gone. If he should catch so much as a glimpse of you, I will punish you severely, Quinn. I will send a slave girl to look after you. But you may not fuck her. Your cock is for me alone. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, mistress,” Quinn answered her, his eyes lowered respectfully.

  “Then get you gone,” she told him, and turned back to the masseuse. “The ball of your thumb is too rough, Iris. Be certain to have it sanded when you massage me again.”

  “Yes, mistress,” the slave woman answered, grateful not to have been hit.

  There was the sound of trumpets amid the thunder of horses’ hooves from outside the villa, announcing the arrival of someone of importance.

  “The master is home!” she heard the slaves crying out.

  Ashley smiled. Yes, this would add a soupçon of novelty to her fantasy. She arose from the massage table as her women scurried about her. Her long hair was scented with oil of lilies to match the fragrance arising from her naked body. A slave dropped a woven necklace of delicate white freesia about her neck, and handed her a second necklace. Then without a word the slaves ran from the chamber, and a moment later the twin doors into that chamber were opened, and her husband strode in. He had already been divested of his armor and garments. The tribune Maximillian Alerio Patronius looked exactly like Ryan Finbar Mulcahy, and he was as naked as she was. Ashley stepped forward and dropped the floral necklace over his head.

  “Welcome home, my lord,” she said in a husky voice. She hadn’t thought he would look like Ryan, but then, she had been thinking about Ryan a great deal lately.

  Reaching out, he swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply. “I have missed you, lady. The women in Gaul stink of animal fat and sweat.”

  “But you fucked them anyway.” She laughed up at him. “Didn’t you?”

  “After I had them washed twice over, aye! Was your sex slave satisfactory?” he asked her. “Did he keep you entertained enough that you retained your chastity, and did not bring any scandal on my house, my insatiable Cordelia?”

  “He is perfect, my
lord. Not only does he fuck reasonably well, although nowhere near as well as you do, he has great stamina and is able to take a good whipping.”

  The tribune laughed. “I am happy to learn my gift was a success, lady.”

  “You are the perfect husband, Max,” Ashley told him. “You are always thinking about me, and your gifts are delightful. I am the happiest woman in Rome. Now tell me,” she said as she pressed up again him, “why are you home? I did not expect you for another few months.”

  “Caesar recalled me. He wished to replace me with one of his sycophants,” the tribune replied. “Actually, if the gossip is correct Caesar is fucking the man’s wife, and the fool tried to keep her too close. It was a simple matter to send the husband off to northern Gaul so Caesar might have easy access to his favored mistress. I can but hope the fellow doesn’t find himself dead.” He chuckled. “But now, my dear wife, it is time for you to welcome me home properly. On your knees like a good wife, Cordelia, and suck my cock. If you do it nicely I will fuck you. If you displease me, then I shall fuck one of your pretty slave girls. We have the afternoon, but then we are expected at the palace tonight for a banquet, which will certainly turn into a delightful orgy.”

  Ashley fell to her knees and lifted the long peg of flesh. She gazed at it carefully, as if deciding just what she was going to do. Then, holding it gently by its head, she licked it first up one side, and then back down the other. “Ummm,” she murmured. “You taste of leather, Max.” She took his penis into her mouth and began to suck on him. The long fingers of his big hand dug into her scalp, and he kneaded her head as she sucked at first with deep, strong pulls of her mouth. She stopped suddenly, and her tongue began to encircle the sensitive head of his organ. Then she nipped at it delicately with her teeth.

  He growled. “Easy, my goddess,” he warned her.

  She began to suck him again. He grew thick and hard in her warm mouth, and he lengthened so that the tip of his penis was pushing just down her throat. She moaned, thinking how she loved the taste of him. Her hands slipped around him to fondle his tight buttocks. Her fingers dug into his flesh. She raised her eyes slightly to him, silently asking what he would have of her. Wordlessly he gave the command, and Ashley sucked harder and harder upon his cock until she felt him quiver, and then his sperm burst forth. She almost choked as she swallowed it down, so copious was the flow, but she continued to draw every last drop from him until he bade her cease.

  “Jupiter and Mars, Cordelia, no one can suck me off like you can!” the tribune praised his wife. “Do you suck the slave?”

  “My lord!” She was indignant. “That you could even ask me such a thing.”

  “You’re a beautiful liar,” he told her, laughing as he pulled her up into his arms. “You have an appetite for sex, which is why I bought the fellow for you. I’m glad he isn’t boring you.” He led her over to her large bed. “Now,” he said as they lay down together, “you have been a very good girl, and should be rewarded appropriately. I have a taste for your juicy cunt, Cordelia. Open yourself to me,” the tribune said, and he positioned her to suit his purposes. Then his head slid between her shapely legs.

  He slowly licked the tender flesh of her plump thighs. His teeth grazed her delicate skin, nipping just enough to pinch. She squealed softly. His tongue ran up and down her slit several times. Then, pulling one of her nether lips apart, he licked at the inside of it, then probed beyond to find her clitoris. He slowly licked at the sensitive little organ, playing with it, teasing it with the velvet tip of his tongue. His mouth closed over it, and he sucked hard on it.

  Ashley cried out as a small clitoral orgasm overcame her. “Ohh, Max!” she cried to him. “No one does that to me as well as you do.” Her hand stroked his dark hair. “I know you need a moment to recover, but I beg you to put your fingers in me. I am burning with my desire, and it will but whet my appetites further,” she told him.

  He raised himself up and kissed her firmly. She could taste herself on his lips. Then he pushed two fingers into her vagina. Hard. “It isn’t as good as I will be,” he said. The fingers frigged her slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity, but she found she could not come, and she whimpered with her frustration. He laughed. “I know, my goddess. Only a thick, long cock will do for you, and you shall have it.” He swung quickly over her. “Now!” And with a single fierce thrust he filled her vagina.

  Ashley screamed with delight, and wrapped her legs about her husband. “Fuck me, Max!” she begged him. “Fuck me hard, and make me come!”

  He obliged her, and they finally collapsed as they came together. And when he had caught his breath he said, “No more for now, my goddess. Tonight when we return from the palace we will enjoy each other. But for now we must prepare to be the emperor’s guests.”

  She called for their slaves, and she and Max were bathed and dressed. Max was attired in a purple silk toga lined in gold, to indicate his military victories. On his feet were slipped a pair of calceus, fine leather sandals painted gold and studded with amethysts. His dark hair had been cut once he had come from his bath. It was short, with several tiny stiff curls on his forehead and at the nape of his neck. His only jewelry was a gold signet ring he used for sealing correspondence.

  The tribune’s wife was garbed in a sheer violet silk tunic shot through with gold threads. Her body glowed through the fabric. It was sleeveless, and the draped neckline was low. She carried a matching shawl. Her hair was fashioned into a coil at the nape of her neck. Her leather sandals were decorated with gold leaf and pearls. The long, ornate earrings hanging from her ears were gold and pearls.

  They were carried through the streets of the city in a large litter to join the other patrician guests in a banquet at the emperor’s palace. Maximillian Alerio Patronius and his wife were shown to couches quite near the emperor. The ruler gazed down at them through a ruby set in gold, and acknowledged their presense with a wave of his hand. Around them servants brought food and refilled wine cups, music played, entertainers entertained. The noise was bearable.

  “I have taken a new herb that is supposed to extend my stamina for sex,” the emperor announced at one point. He pointed to the young wife of a senator. “I would fuck her,” he said.

  The senator pushed his blushing wife from their couch and sent her immediately to the emperor, who proceeded to use her publicly. When he had finished his penis was still hard, and he was yet unsatisfied. He pointed to the wife of another senator, and proceeded to lustily fuck her until the woman fainted with multiple orgasms.

  “She was better than the first,” the emperor said dryly, “but not good enough.” He scanned the great banquet room again, and his eye fell upon the wife of Maximillian Alerio Patronius. The lady Cordelia smiled at him.

  “Tribune,” the emperor said, “is your wife pleasurable in your bed?”

  “She is indeed, Caesar,” Max replied.

  “I would try her,” the emperor said.

  “Go to him, Cordelia,” the tribune told his wife.

  Ashley got up, and obediently went to the emperor.

  “Remove your garment,” the emperor commanded. He had not asked any of the others to do that.

  Ashley unfastened her tunic and let it drop to her feet.

  The vast banquet hall was so silent you could have heard a drop of wine fall.

  “You must make me come,” the emperor told her. “If you do not I will whip you.” He lay back upon his couch in a half-seated position, and pulled up his toga to reveal his penis. It was a very long penis, but not particularly thick, and it was thrusting straight up. “You may mount me,” he told her.

  “Not until you have prepared me properly, my lord,” Ashley told him, and then, going around the couch to his head, she straddled him, pressing her mons down on his face. “Lick, Caesar, and make me wet. When you do I will give you the finest ride you have ever had. And if I do not you may indeed whip me.”

  He yanked her nether lips apart and licked her furiously. He fou
nd her clit, and in very little time she was slick with her juices. Pushing her back he said, “Now mount me, you brazen bitch! And I will probably whip you afterward to punish you for your boldness. And then I will fuck your ass as well!”

  She mounted him, slowly, slowly sliding down his slender hard penis until she had absorbed it all. She began to ride him, gently at first, and then more quickly. Reaching up, the emperor grabbed her breasts and squeezed hard. She moaned as he pinched her nipples and then leaned forward to bite them. But suddenly Caesar began to smile, and she felt him quivering within her vagina. She rode him harder, and he climaxed with a roar of pure satisfaction. The banquet chamber erupted with cheers and clapping as Ashley fell forward.

  Immediately slaves leaped forward to pull her off the emperor. They held her upright, for she could not stand right away. The emperor was fed wine, and sweetmeats were pushed into his mouth. His genitals were gently bathed. Slowly he regained his strength and equilibrium, and when he had, he called for a leather tawse and commanded that his most recent partner be bound between two marble pillars. Then he stood up and began to lay the strap across her plump buttocks as a young slave girl knelt between his legs and sucked his cock back to a state of readiness. When it was ready, and Ashley’s bottom was pink and warm, she was released, brought to her knees, then forced to stretch forward so that the emperor might mount her from behind.

  She felt a thick oil being rubbed on and around her anus. She squealed as Caesar pushed slowly into her rear channel. He whispered all manner of lascivious things into her ear as he took her. Then, reaching forward, he found her clitoris and began to rub it. “Ohh, Caesar!” the tribune’s wife cried. “Ohh, Caesar!” His fingers were having the desired result, and she was going to come. “Yes!” she screamed, knowing her obvious pleasure in his public performance would please him. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” And she climaxed, bucking wildly, as he came with a shout.

 

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