Marcus stroked strands of her hair from her glistening face, smoothing them down. ‘I hope you’re enjoying yourself, baby.’
She looked from one side to the other, searching each man’s face for a long moment. ‘It’s everything I imagined. And more. I just want to lay here for ever with you guys.’
Dom smiled and tweaked her nipple. ‘Well, maybe not for ever, but I’d say we’ve got all night.’
The Journey
by Izzy French
Click, click, click. Eva’s heels echoed behind her with increasing frequency as she ran for the train. Like a small boy’s cap gun, she thought, also wondering how there was space for that thought to have intruded into her overcrowded mind. Her anxiety was palpable; her hands shook, her teeth were clenched. She had to catch that train. David’s reaction at breakfast had been as expected. His egg was hard, his toast cold, his tea weak. He hated her going. Thought it unnecessary. A couple of nights away to visit an aged aunt, who had little, if nothing, now to offer. He always measured people on what they had to offer. And it was her second visit in a month. He resented the hold Aunt Millicent appeared to have over her. Thought she had lived an inappropriate life. Might be a bad influence. As if Eva wasn’t a grown woman able to make her own choices. She hummed silently, hoping that she could drown out the sound of his voice, peremptory and bad tempered. And there was no pretence at concern. No, his words and actions made it perfectly clear he hated losing control, even temporarily, over his wife. Didn’t think he should have to be bothered with domestic duties, even for a day or so. As she stepped aboard and walked down the carriage she suppressed the desire to speculate about how it would feel to be free of him. Why raise her own hopes?
She made her way to the sleeper carriage. Still physically tense, there’d been a subtle change in her anxiety. It had become more anticipatory. From childhood onwards she’d loved train journeys; found them romantic and exciting. She rubbed her left hand against the wool of her skirt, hoping it would absorb the dampness, not leave a mark. She had chosen her outfit with care this morning, once David had left the house. She’d laid a dark wool pencil skirt, a cream silk blouse, patent heels and her Sunday best coat on the bed. Once dressed she’d turned to the mirror. Her skirt clung to her hips; her blouse emphasised her breasts. Eva touched her cheek. Applied make-up. Lipstick, mascara, a slash of black eye-liner. She felt good. A rare emotion these days. Vampish, almost. A latter-day heroine. She’d smiled at her silly fantasies and had left the house.
The leather handles of the small overnight bag she carried in her left hand slipped a little as she made her way down the carriage. As the train pulled away from the platform she had to steady herself in the narrow corridor, unused to her heels. Third door down, he’d said. Eva was there now. She hesitated, knocked lightly then pushed the door open slowly. He was there before her, as he’d promised, standing at the window, his back to her.
‘Hello,’ she whispered.
‘You came, then,’ he replied, not turning towards her. Without the advantage of seeing his expression she was unsure of his welcome. His voice was deep but toneless. Was he relieved that she was there now? Excited like she was, maybe? She placed her bag by the door, threw her coat onto the narrow bed, then stepped towards him and laid her hand on his shoulder. Only then he turned towards her.
‘I’m glad you came,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think you would.’
She was surprised at how sad his lack of faith in her made her feel. They barely knew each other; had only met once before, weeks ago when she was making this same journey. How could he possibly have been certain of her?
He bent to kiss her. Lightly at first, then soon more insistent. She returned his kiss. His lips were soft, warm and dry. She imagined he was responding to her need, doing this for her. After a few moments they stopped and she laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his body against her cheek. His arms held her close. She breathed deeply, inhaling the light, subtle scent from his cologne. He pushed her away from him. Her heart pounded. This wasn’t to be a rejection, surely. She couldn’t bear the humiliation. But then he brushed his fingers over her cheek and slipped them under the collar of her blouse. She smiled as he struggled with the tiny buttons with his other hand. They were Mother of pearl, sewn tightly onto the silk. It took an age for him to undo them all and pull her blouse apart. She released her breath; unaware until that moment she had been holding it. Allowing her blouse to slip from her shoulders she willed him to touch her. But he didn’t, not right away. Instead his eyes appeared to feast on her, for what felt like an eternity. Then, still silent, he pushed her bra straps from her shoulders and caressed the top of her breasts. She wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. He reached around her back and released the clasp on her bra, pulling it away from her and discarding it on the bed. He’s anticipating my every wish, she thought. He gazed at her exposed breasts. She resisted the temptation to draw her hands across her chest, to cover herself. Then he leant to lick and kiss each nipple. She felt them harden, desire shot through her body. He reached down, pulled her skirt up to her waist. It slid over her thighs. She reached for his belt. He shook his head.
‘Not yet,’ he whispered.
She had worn her finest silk French knickers, hoping they would please him. He rubbed the palm of his hand over her mound, pulling the fabric into the folds of her cunt, causing her clit to throb with pleasure. His movements were regular and firm. She would come soon if he continued, and it was too soon for her pleasure to be complete, but she was unable to tell him this. Moments before she dissolved he pulled his hand away, hooked a finger into the waistband of her knickers and tore them from her, allowing them to fall silently to the floor, where they lay like a puddle of shimmering rainwater. Looking down at them, Eva could see the wetness of her arousal leaving its mark in their centre. She saw him look down too. And she knew he’d seen the mark. He looked her in the eye, held her gaze. Gave her a small smile. His right hand parted the top of her thighs and he traced his fingers between her legs. His touch was feathery light. She let out a tiny groan.
‘Turn around,’ he said. She gave a nervous glance at the door, it was slightly ajar and the blinds were raised. Would they be seen? She was uncertain whether she cared or not. Everyone on the train was a stranger, after all.
‘Now,’ he said, his voice firm. She guessed he saw surprise cross her face. ‘Please,’ he added, softer this time. Softness in a man was new to her. She felt more tension ease away as his voice caressed her. She turned towards the window. He reached around her and opened it. His body was pressed against hers. But he was still fully clothed. The wool of his suit scratched against her skin. The sensation was surprisingly pleasing. The wind dragged her hair across her face. She shook her head. He pulled her hips back, and she leant her upper body out of the window. The cool air flowed over her breasts and her skin tightened. She shivered in anticipation of his next move, made the more thrilling as she was unable to see him. She reached down to touch herself between her legs, exploring her own heat, bringing the moment of release closer. She felt him reach round to caress her breasts, and she felt spikes of desire course through her body. The knowledge that they were visible to men working in the fields they passed by made her feel surprisingly good. She pushed the fingers of her right hand deep inside herself. She felt the tension that had consumed her earlier in the day had been transformed and was now pulsing through her, soon to be thrust from her body in orgasm. Her wetness ran down her hand. He kissed the back of her neck, pushing her hair aside. One of his hands surrounded her own and pushed it deeper inside her still. She gasped with the pain, the pleasure. His other hand stroked her arse, the top of her thighs. Her legs shook with need and desire.
‘I’m ready now,’ she said, pleading, hoping he was too.
‘Turn around again.’ He pulled himself away from her slightly, enabling her to turn towards him, and as she turned she saw him release his trousers a
nd expose his erect cock. He caressed himself momentarily, as if to check his own readiness, and she could see from the glisten of come that he was. She bent to lick it away, savouring the sweet saltiness, and felt him harden against her lips. He gasped. She took him into her mouth, sucking and licking him, feeling his pleasure. After a few moments he pushed her head away gently. He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her, so that she was resting, almost sitting, on the open window ledge. She felt the world rush past her back. The tiny spark of fear of falling onto the track was soon dismissed by the thrill of the newness of her situation. The edge of the frame was digging into her flesh. Her breasts were being bounced by the motion of the train. He caught her right nipple between his teeth. The pain was sharp, echoing that felt across the back of her thighs. She wriggled in an attempt to become comfortable, drew herself forwards. He bent his head down to her, perhaps reading it as an invitation. He parted her legs and began to feast on her wetness. She raised her hands above her head, held onto the top of the window frame to steady herself. If she fell it must not be now, not when complete, enveloping pleasure was threatening to overwhelm her. His tongue lapped up her juices; he pushed it inside her, then rolled over her clit, rhythmically, steadily, slowly building up speed and pressure. She leant back, pressed herself into him, willing him to release her. She threw her head out of the window, aware now, that she would be fully visible to other passengers further back down the train. She felt him lick the full length of her cunt and pull away. Now he’s going to fuck me she thought, hoped. He held her hips and pushed his cock inside her, slowly, gently at first. Then, setting his rhythm, he fucked her hard. All her fears were banished now by her desire and her rhythm soon matched his. She pushed herself onto him, pulling him in as deep as she could, filling herself with him, thrusting away any remaining vestiges of anxiety. The waves of her orgasm soon tensed and released through her, demanding she concentrate on pleasure alone. She felt him come too, his thrusts deep and intense inside her. When their pleasure had subsided he pulled her down gently and they clung to each other for a moment. They didn’t speak. Then they stood apart from one another.
Eva straightened her skirt and washed her face in the tiny basin. When she turned back to him he had closed the door and lain down on the bed. He reached out his right hand. Relative strangers, they were pressed together now in a strange intimacy on this narrow bed. He stroked her hair back from her face, kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, soon drifting into sleep. Eva remained awake for now. She looked down at the puddle created by her French knickers. A rare present from David they would need to be replaced. She would use some of Aunt Millicent’s legacy to buy a new pair. Her inheritance would be released shortly after the funeral she was travelling to, Aunt Millicent’s solicitor had informed her. On the proviso that David never knew of it. Millicent had never approved of him. So Eva had chosen not to tell David of Aunt Millicent’s death. Not yet. She knew Millicent would have understood. And that she would have understood Eva’s need to make this journey again. At last Eva was ready for sleep, and she rested next to him, dreamless and content.
1001 Arabian Slut Slaves
by Chloe Devlin
Lily stood at the doorway of the tent, swathed in several layers of a sheer kaftan. As always, she wore what Sultan Ahmed wished. And he’d ordered her to dress and attend to him and his guest.
The Sultan reclined on several large pillows, while his guest sat cross-legged next to him. She was startled to see that his guest was a white man. It was the first white man she’d seen since she’d been abducted. Of course, the only way she knew he was white was because of his blue eyes. Otherwise, he would’ve been taken for an Arabian, with his sun-baked skin, dressed in the robes of a nomad, with a burnoose around his head.
‘Dance for us, Lily Flower,’ Ahmed commanded, snapping his fingers.
Lily swallowed and moved further into the warm tent. Trying to hear music inside her head, she began to sway, moving her hips from side to side. She ran her hands up and down her body, stretching the fabric taut against her skin, showing off the shape of her breasts and her hips as she knew Ahmed liked her to do.
He waved his hand for her to continue so she knew that she was doing things right. Sometimes after just a few seconds he would order her to go away and she would leave in disgrace.
She felt the visitor’s eyes follow her every move and she took great care to show off her body’s charms, cupping her breasts and brushing her nipples with her thumbs. She knew Ahmed liked it when she played with herself.
At an unspoken nod from her master, she slowly removed the first layer of fabric that was draped over her body. Knowing the two men could catch glimpses of her skin, she continued to sway to some private music inside her head.
The trader shifted from his cross-legged position and stretched out against the cushions, rubbing his crotch. She imagined that he had a long thin cock hidden underneath his robes. Long and thin with a mushroom cap at the top. She figured he had to be circumcised, instead of having a foreskin like Ahmed.
The dancing was starting to arouse her. The thought of servicing this strange man in addition to her master made her hot. Six months ago, she would have been horrified at her thought. But since she’d been kidnapped and held as a pleasure slave in this harem, she’d come to accept her sexual nature.
At Ahmed’s signal, she took off the next layer of her kaftan. Now, more of her skin showed through the last two layers of cloth. Her hips began to weave, trying to entice the two men into shedding their clothes too.
The visitor cleared his throat. ‘She’s beautiful.’
‘Wait. It gets better. Lily,’ he commanded with a steel thread running through his voice. ‘The rest of it, please.’
Lily nodded in acknowledgment. She turned her back to the two men and slowly and sensuously lowered the last two layers of fabric. Inch by inch, her shoulders, then her back was revealed to the two watchers.
Finally, she allowed the fabric to drop entirely, so that she was nude except for her stockings. After letting them get a good look at her smooth buttocks, she turned around. The trader sighed as she grasped her breasts and offered the twin globes to the two men.
She ran her hands all over her body, adding to her growing arousal. Up and down her torso, around her breasts and even over her thighs, letting her fingers stray towards her crotch, but never spreading her legs too wide.
Finally, Ahmed snapped his fingers at her and she stood still, hands at her side. Now was the deciding moment. He would either fuck her or send her back to the harem in disgrace.
Ahmed looked over at his guest. ‘Do her looks please you, Joshua? Do you wish to fuck her? Just say the word and we will enjoy her body. If not, I have other slaves in my harem that may be more to your liking.’
The man looked up and down her body once more before replying. ‘She’ll do. I’d like to fuck her mouth first, if you don’t mind.’
Ahmed snapped his fingers again. ‘Lily, assume the position.’
As she walked over to the cushions that lay between the two men and stretched out on her back, they stripped off their robes. Unlike Ahmed’s thick shaft, the trader’s cock was long and thin. Longer even than her Sultan’s. A prick that long would reach places inside her that had never been touched. She only hoped that Ahmed would let this stranger fuck her and not arbitrarily change his mind and send her back to the harem.
Ahmed stretched her legs wide apart and began playing with her pussy.
She turned her head towards Joshua and took a deep breath. Before she had finished, the white trader from Assylonia slid his long thin cock deep into her throat. She gulped, taking him even deeper, swabbing her tongue around the head of his shaft.
Ahmed’s fingers slid through her pussy lips, spreading her moisture over the slippery skin. The pleasurable touch didn’t stop her sucking. Although she knew that Ahmed wasn’t touching her for her own enjoyment, her body instinctively responded, her nipples hardening and her s
heath spasming.
As she continued to lick and suck on their guest’s dick, she remembered the first time she’d been forced to suck Ahmed to climax. It had been several days after her abduction from her carriage. Until that moment, she’d been living in the harem and had seen only the women, no men.
They’d dressed her in a linen robe that was too long, so it dragged on the ground, then led her through the palace to the Sultan. Ahmed had been reclining on a golden lounge chair, his chest bare, an open robe tied loosely around his waist. He’d nodded regally as the head woman had quickly stripped her bare.
She remembered the embarrassment that had flooded her cheeks as she’d tried to hide her private parts with her hands. But at a signal from Ahmed, the head woman had grabbed her hands and held them tightly behind her back, the action thrusting her breasts out. She stood perfectly still, inwardly cringing as he gazed upon her nude body.
Then the head woman had forced her forward until she stood right in front of him. His hands touched her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. He’d opened the robe and drew her head towards his erect member. She’d fought him until he calmly and coolly slapped her across the cheek.
‘Suck,’ he’d ordered.
Tears filled her eyes. She’d never been hit in her entire life. The slap shocked her so much that she bent her head and did as he ordered, taking his thick shaft into her mouth. The skin of his cock had been surprisingly warm and supple beneath her tongue. With a few grunted commands from him, she’d quickly learned what pleased him.
She’d brought him to climax in her mouth that first time, completely surprised when he ejaculated down her throat. But she’d swallowed it all, unable to jerk her head back. And from there she’d progressed until she was his favourite in the harem. And only favourites got to entertain guests.
A hard thrust brought her back to the present and the two men. Ahmed was shoving two fingers in her pussy, while the trader slammed his cock in and out of her mouth faster and faster.
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