‘Doesn’t it feel good?’
‘It does,’ he admitted, despite himself. ‘What else?’
She didn’t answer, just smiled her beautiful smile, let her enticing breasts and her tight body sail past his eyes, and continued running the leather strands over his body. She moved them down to his thighs, and then up to his penis, and he just about cried out with the incredibly exciting sensation. She kept brushing her implement over his erection, over his balls, back down to his thighs, back up to his penis, teasing him, stimulating him, driving him to distraction. She was really good at what she was doing and he was definitely enjoying himself.
She moved her strands back up to his chest, lifted them up in the air, and let them come down on him. He tensed again, involuntarily, but it didn’t hurt. She lifted the cat up again and brought the strands back down, a bit harder this time, and then again, still a bit harder and still he didn’t mind. Her strokes were beginning to hurt, but only slightly and in a very pleasant and arousing kind of way. She still had the same contented smile on her face and was obviously enjoying herself.
The more she hit him, the more excited he felt. There was something very sensuous about a beautiful woman wielding a whip, about the slapping noise of the leather on his bare skin, about the whole sensation that became more stimulating and pleasurable than painful with every stroke. He definitely hadn’t expected this, and he realized that he was enjoying himself more and more. As was she, quite obviously, judging from the delighted look on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. He hadn’t known that any kind of pain could feel this good, so luxurious, so arousing and invigorating.
The whip began to move downward from his chest, over his belly again, down to his thighs and his shins and his feet until his whole body was tingling, burning, vibrating from the unusual treatment. His mind was filled with images of her naked body, with the rush of her stimulation, the pleasure of the sensuous pain. What he had dreaded so much he now didn’t want to stop, she was making him feel that good with her skilful manipulation of his body, his senses, his mind.
Then it did stop. Ursula put the whip down and came back to stand beside him. She put both hands on his chest again and stroked him lightly as she had done at the start of the session, cooing soothing words, brushing away the pain, slowly returning him to himself. He wanted so badly to take her into his arms, feel her body against his, make them one, complete his fantasy.
Just as he was imagining her lying on the floor with him on top of her, she took the initiative again and climbed up on the table. Straddling him and balancing herself with her arms, she slowly impaled herself on his aching, hungry penis, sliding her swollen lips over his pulsing glans. She pressed her pelvis down on him until he was completely inside her. There she stayed, bearing down on him, flexing her interior muscles. For the longest time, she skilfully played with his erection, smiling down on him with a deeply sensuous look in her eyes.
He was getting more and more aroused, his whole body tingling with the incredible pleasure she provided. He still felt rather strange, being firmly tied down as she had made sure he was, and not being able to react, to touch her, fondle her, dominate her. His entire being wanted her in his arms, yet there was the titillation of the strangeness and the newness of his situation that sent shudders of deep pleasure through his immobilized limbs and up and down his spine, from his stimulated penis to his excited mind.
He pushed his pelvis against hers as best as he could to show her how much he enjoyed her ministrations. She, in turn, started to bounce up and down on him, faster and faster, her breasts swaying above him, so close yet so completely out of reach it hurt. But it felt incredibly good, finally being inside of her, feeling her wet cave sucking him, rubbing him, bringing them closer and closer to the apex of their passion. It wasn’t what he had imagined at all, but it was definitely good.
She reached down to put her hand on her pussy and started rubbing her clit as she was bouncing up and down, moaning with pleasure, her eyes closed, her face transformed, glowing with the excitement of the final stage. Her body began to tremble and she rocked through her first orgasm, crying out her satisfaction. She put her free hand on his shoulder and dug her fingers into him in the throes of her release. Continuing to finger herself rapidly, she brought herself to another powerful orgasm and finally collapsed on top of him.
She was breathing heavily, her body shuddering deliciously against his as she rocked through the aftershocks of her orgasms, satiated and content. After a while, she pushed herself up, climbed off him, and untied him from the table. He flexed his limbs until he could move again after the lengthy restraint, then climbed off the table and, finally, took her luscious body into his hands. They sank down on the carpet and wrapped their arms around each other, he finding her beautiful, firm breasts with one hand, her dripping pussy with the other, stroking her and rubbing her with his eager hands until she shivered through yet another screaming orgasm, clinging to him as if she were drowning in her own passion.
He let her lie there for a while until she caught her breath and relaxed her body, then climbed on top of her as she spread her willing legs for him. Finally arriving at the core of all his fantasies about her, he took her breasts into his hands and penetrated her slowly, savoring every moment of the impalement. He gradually pushed himself into her until he filled her completely, then began his long ride home.
Ursula wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips and pulled him against her as tightly as she could. He lay on top of her with his penis buried deep inside her, twitching against her tight muscles. Holding her trembling breasts in his hands and teasing her nipples with his fingers, he rocked himself to his own orgasm until he was empty and spent, gasping for air and groaning his own pleasure into the room.
After a while, he rolled off her and stretched out beside her to catch his breath and relax his own body from the strenuous encounter. Then they wrapped their arms around each other and fell asleep among the majestic snow-covered peaks of the Alps, totally content and satisfied with each other and themselves.
Reunion by Kate J Cameron
I walked into the lobby of the Emirates Palace Hotel and stopped, gazing up at the interior of the massive dome that crowned the hotel. As many times as I had seen it, it never failed to take my breath away. At a cost of more than $3 billion dollars, it was the most expensive hotel ever built, and it was amazing. The sun filtered through the stained glass of the dome and cast a golden glow over the ornate décor. As I approached the front desk, I noticed many of the men in the lobby glancing surreptitiously at me. I realised that a bit of my auburn hair was peeking out around the edges of my khimār, which I wore as a courtesy to my Arabic hosts. It was difficult enough for some of them to consider me as an equal during the contract negotiations in Dubai, and if wearing a modest silk scarf over my hair made a difference, then I was willing to be accommodating.
But the next round of meetings was not due to start for another week, so I had decided to make the short trip to Abu Dhabi for some downtime. A room at one of the world’s most expensive hotels, and its close proximity to some incredible shopping, made this an ideal place to relax and let my mind drift away to something other than indemnities and liquidated damages. I deliberately left the other members of my group in the dark as to my plans, letting only my assistant back in Houston know my destination, and she was sworn to secrecy. I needed some time to myself, away from the same faces I had been huddled with, day after day, for two weeks.
The gentleman behind the front desk greeted me with a smile. In flawless English, he said, ‘Good afternoon, Ms Wallace, your room is ready.’ He handed me a key and a small envelope bearing the hotel crest and the name Ms Emily Wallace. ‘You also have a message. Welcome back, and please let me know if I can be of further assistance.’
‘Thank you, Samir.’ I smiled at him, and then turned, opening the envelope as I walked away from the desk. Suddenly, I stopped short as my brain processed the single word
written on the fine linen paper in a masculine hand.
Surprise!
My head snapped up and my gaze swept the room. As I began to turn towards the front desk again, strong arms encircled my waist from behind, and in my ear, a voice whispered, ‘Hi, beautiful.’
‘Steven!’ I whirled around to see him standing there, in the flesh. I was so stunned I could barely breathe. ‘Where …? How …?’ I tried to take in the sight of him all at once – the face with its strong jaw, tanned and windburned, with white circles around his eyes where his sunglasses rested; the short cropped hair, the lean, muscled chest, the trim waist. His time in Iraq was taking a toll on him – this much I could see also. There were lines around his eyes that had not been there when he left the States six months ago, and a tiredness in his face that spoke of stress and worry. Still, he was here, and though I had yet to figure out how he had managed it, I was not about to complain.
I met Lieutenant Commander Steven Carlisle in Houston during a political fundraiser. He and several other officers from the Naval Air Station in Corpus Christi had come into town to serve as part of the honor guard for the President that night. At one point during the evening, I had stepped out of the ballroom onto a balcony in an effort to dodge a local businessman who, through a haze of alcohol, was determined that he and I were destined to spend our lives together, notwithstanding the fact that he was not yet divorced from his third wife. I had managed to give him the slip as he staggered in the direction of the nearest bar for a refill. With any luck, he would pass out on the way back.
As I rounded the corner of the terrace, I ran directly into a hard chest, which, as it turned out, belonged to Commander Carlisle. Having had enough of the hot crowded ballroom for a while, he, too, had stepped out to clear his head. He kept me from falling, I apologised, we began to talk, and before we knew it, the evening was at an end. His group from Corpus was leaving and as he said his goodbyes, Steven had asked if he could see me again. He had looked so handsome in his dress whites. Having always been a sucker for a man in uniform, I could not refuse, and gave him my card. A large bouquet of flowers arrived at my office the next day, followed by phone calls, emails, and dinner one evening when he just happened to be in Houston. Pretty soon, we were finding ways to spend nearly every weekend together, schedules permitting. Steven was kind, intelligent, witty, and at the right moment, he also proved to be a skilled and thoughtful lover.
We talked endlessly about everything and laughed often about nothing, simply enjoying each other. Life – and love – with Steven was fun, something that had been in short supply in my ambitious, career-oriented life. His frequent military physicals and my cautious nature had removed the need for condoms, which was a good thing considering how spontaneous some of our lovemaking turned out to be. Never before had a man been able to turn me on with just a look. And once he gave me that look, I wanted him then and there, damn the torpedoes.
Then one weekend, as we lay in bed, in a quiet voice, he told me that he had received orders. In six weeks, he was being sent to join an onshore command in Iraq. I hardly knew what to say. I could tell the connection between us was growing stronger, and this threatened to change everything. The days passed by quickly before he left, and we said our goodbyes without knowing what our futures held. We agreed to keep in touch, and see if this was a relationship that was meant to be.
And now here he was, in front of me. I began to step forward, but I hesitated, mindful of the cultural restrictions. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms, and kiss him senseless, but although Abu Dhabi was one of the more liberal cities in the Middle East, it was still the capital of a Muslim nation. Steven must have read my mind, because he gave me a grin and looked down at my hand, still clutching the white plastic card key to my room.
‘Is that a room key, or have you melted all the colour off your VISA card?’
I was still so surprised to see him that I had to think hard to answer him. ‘Yes, it’s my room key. I was just going up to my room where this key fits the door to my room …’ I stammered, and then finally stopped speaking, realising how ridiculous I sounded. Steven laughed that low, husky laugh that sent tingles down my back.
‘Why don’t we go upstairs so you can say hello to me in a more … appropriate way?’ he said softly, and took the key card from my hand. ‘What room are you in?’
I managed to regain some semblance of dignity. ‘I am in the East Wing … a Khaleej Suite. Do you have a bag?’
‘My bag is with the bellman – I’ll let him know to bring it up.’ Steven walked over to the front desk, and after a short conversation, he rejoined me. Placing a hand on the small of my back in a possessive manner I had grown to love, he and I walked over to a discreet bank of elevators. He presented my key to the plainclothes security officer standing near the elevator doors, and with a swipe of the card, the man summoned a car to take us to the suite level.
The butler, Massien, was waiting as the doors opened on the 21st floor. ‘Ms Wallace, welcome back. Your bags have been transported to your room, and you have an 8:00 p.m. dinner reservation at Sayad.’ He paused as Steven stepped off the elevator behind me. ‘Aaah, I see you have a companion. Should I make that a reservation for two?’
‘Yes, thank you, Massien. Commander Carlisle will be joining me for the duration of my stay, as my guest. Please see that his belongings are brought to my room.’
Massien gave a short bow, and said ‘Of course, madam. It will be my extreme pleasure to extend the Commander every courtesy the Palace has to offer. Now, may I show you your suite?’
Massien was his typical thorough self in making sure that every detail of our room met with my approval. Usually I appreciated his kindness, but for once, I found myself wishing he would just shut up and go. Finally, the door closed behind Massien as he took his leave, and I was finally able to do what I had been longing to do since the lobby.
My feet literally seemed to skim the ground as I ran across the room into Steven’s arms. I crushed my lips to his, and threw my arms around his neck as he picked me up and spun me around, never breaking our kiss. Finally, we came up for air, and he laughed.
‘Now that is a much more appropriate welcome. God, I missed you …’ He leaned in for another kiss, but I stopped him.
‘Oh, no. Your lips will just keep on missing me until you tell me just how you knew I was here and how you got here and what you are doing here … everything!’ I led him over to one of the plush couches in the suite’s lounge area, and we sat close, holding hands. I think I was afraid that if I wasn’t touching him, he would disappear.
Steven smiled and said, ‘I was sitting around, missing you, and hating the fact that you were so close to me, relatively speaking, but not close enough. Before I realised what I was doing, I was headed over to my CO’s office, and the next thing I knew, I had a four day pass. I didn’t even stop to change out of my work clothes – just threw some stuff in a bag and scrammed. A transport to Doha, a flight across to Abu Dhabi, a cab from the airport and here I am. I called your assistant en route and she told me where you were staying.’ He gestured at the opulent room around us and grinned. ‘I should have known – only the best and most expensive for my girl.’
Steven pulled his shirt away from his chest and sniffed, making a face. ‘And right now I smell like one of the camels I saw on the way in. I need a shower.’ He stood, and held his hand out to me, a mischievous look in his eye.
‘Care to join me?’
In response, I stood up, facing him. I removed the khimār, dropping it carelessly on the floor, and seductively ran my fingers through my shoulder length auburn hair. Steven stood there watching, entranced. Slowly, deliberately, I unbuttoned my blouse, and let the silk slide down off my shoulders, revealing my black lace bra. I heard him take a quick breath, and then he stepped forward, gently placing his hands on my breasts.
‘My God,’ he said in a ragged voice, ‘it’s been a long six months.’ He leaned over and placed a
single kiss on the top of each mound. My skin seemed to burn where his lips touched.
He then proceeded to make quick work of the rest of my clothes, as well as his own. Once he stood naked and magnificent in front of me, and our clothes lay in a pile on the floor, he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me off to the enormous bathroom, its spacious shower having more than enough room for two.
The water beating down on our bodies from every angle was at the perfect temperature, but we noticed little more than the feel of each other’s lips as we kissed with the pent up emotion of a six month separation. Steven slid his fingers down my body, caressing my breasts, before taking my face in his hands and pulling me closer to him for another deep kiss. His fingers ran through my hair like my own had just moments before. He held my head in a firm but gentle grip, while his kisses, which were anything but gentle, intensified even more, giving me the first hint of the depth of his need.
My own hands were exploring his body as well, relearning the curves of his arms and back, cupping the firmness of his ass, tracing the path of the hair that ran from his chest down to his maleness. Steven was thinner than I remembered, and leaner as well, but his muscles were more defined. They rippled as he broke off the kiss and pulled me against him for a strong hug, so that my breasts were pressed against that wonderful chest that I loved so much. His erection brushed against the curls between my legs and an erotic shiver ran through me.
We fumbled with the soap, laughing and giggling like children as we lathered up each other’s body, taking care to make sure every part, especially the “naughty bits”, were adequately cleaned. His hand kept straying to the cleft between my legs, lightly sliding in and out of the wetness there that was not all from the shower. With every touch of his hand, my desire increased even more.
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