The Frenchman straightened up then rolled on top of her, his cock sinking into her wet vagina at the first attempt.
'Is this what you wanted to see?' Eloisa asked Corinda. 'Or this?'
The American wrapped her arms around his back and scissored her legs together tightly, forcing them underneath his and trapping his penis inside her, then rolled over until he was on his back and she was on top of him. She then brought her knees up so she was straddling his hips. The whole manoeuvre was accomplished with his cock still embedded inside her. Raising herself on her haunches she let Corinda see his erection, now slick with her juices, slide almost all the way out. She then dropped, impaling herself, and ground her clitoris against it.
Corinda watched with fascination as the American rose again, and Yves' cock reappeared. She moved round to get a closer look, her sex throbbing as she watched the penis ploughing into Eloisa's vagina. It looked exactly as she had imagined it would; exactly like the image she'd formed in her head while Constantine had been plunging into her. That is why she'd wanted to see it, so that next time she would be able to see in her mind's eye, as well as feel, what was being done to her.
As she leant forward her leg brushed against the discarded dildo. It was still wet. She picked it up. 'Use it on her,' Eloisa snapped at the blonde, her movements becoming more urgent. She bounced up and down on Yves with considerable power. Her fingernails raked across his chest. 'Not bad for a man,' she said.
The blonde took the dildo from Corinda's hand then pushed her over until she was kneeling on all fours, as Eloisa had been earlier. She did not strap the dildo on again. Instead she held it in her right hand and guided it between Corinda's labia as her other hand stroked the curve of her buttocks.
The sight of the penis being enveloped in Eloisa's sex had given Corinda a new sense of arousal. She wanted the dildo very much. As soon as she felt its tip at the entrance to her vagina she wriggled back on it, and the wetness her sex had produced allowed it to slip into the depths of her body. She pushed back strongly, wanting the phallus as deep as it would go, then used her internal muscles to grip it, just as she had gripped Constantine's cock the previous night.
The dildo didn't have the heat and pulsing life of the real thing, but it still produced waves of glorious feelings. The blonde began to pull it down, but Corinda reached back and grabbed her wrist, pushing it up again. She didn't want a stroking rhythm. She wanted total penetration. She wriggled down on it, and felt its hardness right in the core of her, as her eyes closed with the jolt of pleasure.
Eloisa's voice broke through Corinda's reverie, and she forced her eyes open to watch. She saw the Frenchman's cock slamming up into the woman as he bucked his hips off the bed, matching Eloisa's movements. From the expression on her face the American was close to coming. Suddenly she forced her weight down onto him, not allowing him to buck up off the bed again, and as Corinda watched, ground her hips from side to side as her fingers clawed at her own nipples. She was looking straight at Corinda, displaying herself with eyes sparkling, showing her what she wanted to see.
'Jesus,' she screamed, her eyes screwed closed as her body went rigid and her orgasm took hold of her.
It was too much for Corinda. The feelings the artificial phallus created were doubled by the empathy she felt for Eloisa. Her sex contracted, her muscles stretched and her orgasm exploded, making her cry out too. The image of the Frenchman's penis ploughing between Eloisa's sex lips stayed in her mind, long after her eyes had been closed by the flood of exquisite sensation.
She waited for her orgasm to drain away, but before she could open her eyes she felt hands grabbing her by the hips. The dildo was pulled from her, leaving her tingling, and then the unmistakable heat and hardness of a cock replaced it, thrusting into her with a startling urgency. Its slickness and the juices of her own body combined to make the penetration frictionless. It reared up into her, deeper than the dildo had. She felt hands groping her breasts, fingers tugging them clear of the basque and kneading the flesh, while others found her nipples and played on them too. As the cock drove in and out of her another hand ran up her stockinged leg and caressed the creamy thigh above as it worked up to her clitoris. It was swollen and tenderised by everything that had happened. A finger, whose she did not know, stroked it with no real gentleness or finesse.
Despite the mountainous waves of pleasure she forced her eyes open. Eloisa was lying at her side. The blonde was kneeling next to her, driving the phallus, that a few seconds earlier had been inside Corinda, into Eloisa's sex from the back, while she played with Corinda's breasts with her other hand. As she watched Eloisa wriggled forward slightly, got her mouth close to Corinda's breasts and opened wide. The blonde fed Corinda's nipple into it. Immediately Corinda felt a new wave of pleasure, as the American sucked and licked and nipped the tender flesh between her lips. Her other breast was being kneaded by Yves.
Another orgasm was exploding through her, wiping out her ability to do anything but wallow in bliss. Somewhere, buried in the middle of all the provocations her mind and body were prone to, there was one crystal clear image that seemed to be at the centre of everything; a picture in her mind's eye of Yves's cock, forcing its way between her labia and deep into her sex, a picture not based on what she could see but on what she had seen as she'd watched him with Eloisa. Now she knew exactly what it looked like - another lesson in her sexual education was complete.
Suddenly the speed of his thrusting increased. The fingers that dug into her hips became like steel. She felt his muscles harden. As she came out of the depths of her own orgasm she felt his beginning. Unlike Constantine he did not stop plunging into her. She felt his cock jerking in her vagina and tried to squeeze it with her sex, but it did not stop and his semen erupted as he plunged in and out. Long after the last spasm had jetted spunk into her he was still moving, though more slowly. Finally he stopped and withdrew, his cock nudging against her buttocks and leaving a wet mark there.
It took some time to recover. She had come three times, each time more forcefully than the last, and she was deliciously exhausted. She would be sore again tomorrow, of that she was sure, but she looked forward to it; it would be a wonderful reminder of what had happened, of what she had learnt, and of what she had become.
She lay on the bed and rolled into a ball, not wanting to get up. It was as though she were surrounded by a fog of euphoria, and she wanted to stay enveloped in it for as long as possible.
She was vaguely aware of the blonde leaving and Eloisa pouring a drink. They had gone over by the desk, and were talking in whispers. Corinda did not have the energy to listen to what they were saying, but odd phrases lodged in her mind.
'...Might get to like it, baby...' Eloisa said.
'It was not my idea.'
'Not bad.'
'...Better than I imagined,' Yves said.
'Next time perhaps... prefer a more intimate arrangement.'
'She's not as...'
Corinda thought she might have dozed off to sleep, but when she came round they were still talking. She was too comfortable to move and remained curled up.
'So what shall I tell Constantine?' Eloisa asked.
'Tell him I'm interested.'
'How interested?'
'You want me to name a price?'
'Of course.'
'Thirty thousand.'
Eloise laughed. 'Are you joking?'
'It's a fair price.'
What they were talking about now Corinda didn't know. It was obviously business of some sort and that didn't interest her. She was more interested in whether Eloisa would let her spend the night here. Despite having no windows the room was less forbidding than her own quarters, and it would be comforting to share a bed with the American, as she had done so many times with Arabella.
'There are other bidders.'
'What other bidders?'
'Two, at least.'
'Thirty-five, then. No more.'
'And the blonde?' Eloisa asked.
'I didn't come here for her.'
'But since you've seen her? You can see how well I've trained her.'
'I'm not interested. I like to do the training myself. That's what makes this one so fascinating.'
'Exactly. But you won't get her for thirty-five.'
Corinda found all this very puzzling. They seemed to be talking about her. But perhaps she'd dozed off and missed something. Yachts were called 'her' too, and she was sure they were probably talking about some vessel Constantine had salvaged.
'Forty then,' Yves said after a pause.
'Is that your final offer?'
'Yes.'
'I'll tell Constantine. Pity.'
'Why?'
'Because it won't be enough. And I'd have liked to see her go to you.'
'I've never known you be sentimental before.'
'There's something special about this one. Sure you won't change your mind?'
Yves shook his head. He went to the bedroom door and let himself out.
Chapter Seven
'My dear, may I introduce an old friend from Athens? This is Dimitri Boutos.'
'I'm charmed to meet you, my child. Charmed indeed.' Dimitri Boutos was small and stout. He was middle-aged, with a full head of black hair which looked as though it had been dyed. Like Constantine he wore only an open sports shirt and a pair of white cotton slacks.
Constantine had sent word for Corinda to join them for lunch. She had dressed in a simple white silk shift and white high heels, in order to give herself more practice at walking in them, and because they had become associated in her mind with her newly emerging womanhood. They were uncomfortable but that was a small price to pay. She felt adult in them. She felt confident in them. They reminded her of how far she had come in the last three days.
They were in the garden. It was not a garden in the true sense, as it was not open to the sun. But a huge conservatory had been constructed to one side of the house, where with the aid of specially designed propagation lamps that gave the illusion of sunlight, and reflective glass, tropical and semi-tropical plants grew in a riotous profusion of colour. French windows led from the main house on to a stone-flagged terrace and it was here that Corinda was greeted by Dimitri and Constantine.
'You have not seen my garden,' Constantine said. A large butterfly, with jade-green and magpie-blue wings, fluttered by and alighted on the foliage of a large acacia growing in a terracotta pot by the terrace doors. 'We breed the butterflies in a special hothouse. There are thirty-six varieties.'
'It's wonderful,' Corinda said as she watched the green and blue wings take to the air again, and fly up to the glass panels where they settled on a metal stanchion supporting the roof.
There was a white cast-iron table and white chairs with bright green cushions. A bottle of ouzo, a glass jug of water, an ice bucket, and several small glasses were set on the table.
'A glass of ouzo before lunch perhaps?' Constantine said.
'Thank you.'
The woman in the black dress who had collected Corinda from her room poured the drink for her and refilled the men's glasses, dropping in more ice.
'What do you say in English? Bottoms up?' Dimitri raised his glass. His eyes had not left Corinda for a single second.
'Is Yves going to join us?' Corinda asked.
'No, my dear. Unfortunately he is a very busy man. He has been called away on business. Unavoidable, I fear. He asked me to offer you his apologies. I have been telling Dimitri all about your extraordinary upbringing.'
'Yes. Most fascinating,' Dimitri said.
Corinda realised he was only the fourth man she had ever met face to face. But, unlike the others, his presence had not produced a sexual pulse in her. She found that curious, destroying her theory of chemical reactions between men and women. Perhaps it was the result of the orgy of sexual emotions she had experienced last night with Yves and Eloisa. The fact that she had not been allowed to spend the night in Eloisa's bed had given her more time to dwell on what she'd felt. She had spent the morning in a sort of daze, the soreness she had anticipated in her sex and nipples a constant reminder of the ecstatic pleasure she had reached. Her disappointment at not seeing Yves again was probably a factor too. She had found him a very attractive man. She could not say that of Dimitri.
'I'm afraid,' she said, trying to be positive, not wanting to let Constantine down, 'it means I haven't had much experience of men.'
'So I understand.'
'Though Constantine has been so kind to me.'
The two Albanians arrived. They carried trays of food: salads, bread, cheeses and fruit. Wine was set on the table and Corinda was helped into her chair by Dimitri. After breakfast and last night's dinner Corinda, for once, was not hungry and ate sparingly, though Constantine and Dimitri devoured the food.
'Is there any news?' she asked as she toyed with forkfuls of chicken mayonnaise.
'My agent has not called yet. If there is no news after lunch I will call him again.'
'Thank you. I am worried.'
'You were shipwrecked?' Dimitri said.
'Yes.'
'And what have you been doing with your time on the island?'
Corinda laughed. 'Completing my education.'
'In what respect, my child?'
'My sexual education. Constantine has ensured I have been given some very valuable lessons. I suspect he even asked one of this friends to help me out.' She was sure Constantine had primed Yves, asking him if he'd mind taking her to bed in his place, so as not to disappoint her. 'Is it true?' she asked him.
'I might have mentioned something of the sort.'
'You see,' she said to Dimitri, her point proved.
'I certainly do.' Dimitri's eyes had fixed on the way Corinda's breasts pushed against the material of her dress. The top two buttons were undone and he could see the curves of soft flesh, nestling in a lacy white bra. 'I have always found Constantine a prince among men.'
'Perhaps Dimitri here might be willing to help too,' Constantine suggested. 'He is free this afternoon. We have a little business to conclude but that won't take long.'
'The boat is coming for me at five,' Dimitri said.
He took another swig of red wine, wiped his mouth on a napkin and stood up. 'But until then...'
'So there is no time to lose. My dear...'
Corinda looked from one man to the other. It was clear she was expected to go with Dimitri. Constantine obviously thought the idea would appeal to her, but despite her desire to please him and her gratitude, it did not. For the first time in the brief history of her relationship with men, she felt no thrill of anticipation at the thought of sex. Not that she felt she could refuse, however. After saving her life and everything else he had done, a refusal would be churlish.
'I have something special in mind,' Dimitri said, offering Corinda his hand to help her to her feet.
'It will be a new experience for you,' Constantine added.
'I've had a lot of those recently,' she said, trying to appear more at ease than she actually felt. 'Will I see you later, Constantine?'
'Of course.'
He watched them go, waving as they got to the terrace doors. Dimitri lead her up the staircase and along the corridor to a door not far from Constantine's bedroom.
'You are very beautiful, my child,' he said as he opened the door and they walked inside. The bedroom was comparatively small and had no windows. It had a double bed, a single bedside chest, and an antique mahogany wardrobe. The floor was made from strips of polished oak, with a single white rug by the bed.
The mattress of the bed was covered with a black sheet. Lying at the foot of it was a snake's nest of straps and leather harnesses.
'May I undress you?' Dimitri asked.
'Yes.' If Constantine had said that to her, or Yves or Eloisa, the words would have produced a distinct thrill of sexual excitement. As it was she felt nothing.
She watched as the Greek's stubby fingers undid the buttons of her dress. As it parted his
eyes feasted on her breasts, confined in the white lace bra. Dimitri's hands trembled slightly as he unbuckled the cotton belt at her waist and unfastened the two remaining buttons. She was not wearing panties.
'Beautiful,' he said, staring at her belly and the short blonde hair of her pubes. 'Quite lovely.'
'I'm glad you think so,' Corinda said. She could see a bulge forming under the fly of his trousers. She was getting used to the effect her body had on men. It was a sort of power. She pulled the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then reached around behind her to unclip her bra. Leaning forward she let the bra straps fall to her arms, but held the cups against her breasts with both hands.
'Do you want to see them?'
'Yes,' he said.
She dropped the bra, her breasts quivering. 'Well?' She cupped them in her hands.
'They're lovely.'
For the first time she felt a tinge of excitement. What she was doing was turning her on, even if he wasn't. She had always assumed in the complex sexual nexus between a man and a woman, that it was the man who was in control. She had learnt that a woman had just as great an ability to create desire and passion and need, and what's more, could get pleasure from doing it. She turned her back on him and bent over, thrusting her buttocks out. She spread her legs apart, giving him a good view of her sex. Keeping her left hand around one breast, she ran her right down between her legs, and used a finger to spread her labia apart.
'And do you like this?'
'That most of all.'
'So what is this special experience?' she asked, straightening up and sitting on the edge of the bed.
For a second he did not reply, momentarily dazzled. Constantine was right. She was very special, her innocence making her uniquely salacious.
'Kneel on the bed,' he said.
'Are you going to fuck me? I know all about that.' She climbed onto the bed and knelt on all fours. She felt her clitoris throb. 'Like this?' she asked, wriggling her bottom at him and spreading her knees further apart.
'No.' He took her by the shoulder and pulled her up so her back was straight. Then he picked up one of the leather harnesses. He wrapped a leather belt around her waist and buckled it tightly. Another strap, slightly thinner, wrapped underneath her breasts and a third above them, both buckled at the back. All three were connected by thin straps running down her sides.
The Chaste Legacy Page 12