I heard him marching down the wood-floored hall, his steps quick but heavy and for a wild moment I wondered if he’d brought a gun. But when the door opened, no weapon could be seen, just six broad feet of uniformed soldier, topped with the mad bearskin hat so tall he had to duck to get under the frame.
I couldn’t see his eyes, so I could only gauge his reaction to my state of semi-undress by looking at his lower face. His mouth was stretched in a thin, clean line, just as if he were on duty, and his facial muscles betrayed nothing at all. It was impressive. He really was well trained. Exactly how well trained remained to be seen.
“So,” I mused, putting a finger to my lip. “Can I resist a man in uniform?”
“Any conclusions yet?” he asked, smirking and relaxing his pose.
“I think I need to carry out some tests,” I told him. “Why don’t you go and stand against the wall and pretend you’re on duty. I want to see if I can force a reaction from you. Go on then. You’re on duty, and I’m a tourist.”
“I’ve seen a lot, Annie, but a tourist in that outfit is new to me. Do you really expect me to keep a straight face when a gorgeous, nearly-nude girl is within my grasp?”
“Yes. Actually, I do. Please? I’ve been thinking about this all day and I really want to do it. Humour me - I’ll make it worth your while.”
He puffed out a breath, shrugged, and straightened his back against the wall, clicking instantly into that perfect Queen’s Guard posture, as tall and straight as a post, arms at his sides, face set like stone.
“Hey, Guardsman,” I purred, swinging my hips in a sexy little shimmer over to his billet. “Do you like to watch dancing girls?”
I swayed in and out of his space, pushing my breasts up and together or turning around to perform the aforementioned booty-shake, then pushing my hands up through my hair, the way I’d seen some screen siren do on a Sixties movie about strippers. He remained expressionless, so I licked my lips, pushed a hand down inside the elastic of my knickers, thrust my pelvis out in mute invitation. Nothing.
“You’re good at this,” I told him, moving closer. “What does that hat feel like? I’ve always wondered.”
Earlier Greg had told me it was real bear skin, which had freaked me out somewhat, though he insisted the Ministry of Defence were involved in an ongoing search for a synthetic alternative, so I supposed it would be unfair to blame him for their failure.
I put my hand to its silkiness and brushed it, but couldn’t restrain a shudder and quickly retracted it again, using my fingers to stroke his impassive cheek instead. I slid a nail inside the gold plaited chin strap and tickled his skin, but not so much as a twitch was my reward.
“Come on,” I coaxed, easing the strap upward past his mouth and nose, “let me take this big heavy thing off you.” His eyes, uncovered by the dense black fuzz, were distant and glazed. How could a living, breathing man have such control of himself? I put my pouting lips to his, but the kiss I gave him was unreciprocated. I transferred it sideways to his cheekbone, gave his earlobe a little flicking lick, but if it weren’t for the heat of his skin, he could have been made of marble.
Perhaps his neck would betray him - but covered as it was with the dress collar, it was invulnerable to my assault. I would have to take off his jacket. I caressed the epaulettes that decorated his wide shoulders, then let my flat palms travel down the scarlet chest to the white belt at his waist. Unbuckled, it was laid to rest on my dressing-table, then I got to work on the rows of embossed gold buttons, undoing them in sets of three, until it became clear that he hadn’t bothered to keep his shirt on underneath. When my hands slipped inside the rich red tunic, they encountered smooth bare flesh, pectoral muscle and tiny hard nipples which I couldn’t resist giving a tweak.
Glancing upward, I met only that faraway gaze he had been wearing since he entered the room. What would it take? How on earth could I conquer this staunch defender of the monarch?
I removed the tunic so that he stood, as upright as before, in black dress trousers with red stripe at the side and those polished-to-perfection boots.
I nuzzled into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, enjoying the tautness and solidity of it before dropping teaser kisses into that sensitive space. Did I imagine a flicker? Was that something? No sound, no motion, just strength and silence, a wall for me to run at and run at until I burst through.
My tongue bathed his nipples, then spread its glistening trail across his chest and down to his navel, which peeked cheekily above his waistband as if daring me to misbehave with it. I knelt down, grasping him by the hips, and rolled my head against his tight stomach before licking a slow, luxurious circle around that little gap in the flesh. I think his abdominal muscles might have rolled a little, his hips might have performed an involuntary jiggle. Oh yes. Signs of impending victory at last, even if he had not said a word, or moved from his position.
It was time to build towards my big finish. If he could stand straight and mute through this, then he was an android. I unfastened his trousers and let them fall gently down around his ankles, finding at last some evidence that his external disconnection had not quite translated to his bloodstream. He had a magnificent cock, semi-hard, rising from a nest of reddish-gold curls, ready for me to play until it was singing my tune and musical notes were spilling from its owner’s mouth. How long would it take? My hands cupped the balls, finding them heavy, tightening under my palms. Not long then. I kept hold of them and used my lips to kiss sweet promises along his shaft, darting out my tongue for a luscious slurp once it reached the beady liquid at its tip. His tool straightened and hardened beneath my caressing mouth, begging for more attention, which I was more than happy to give.
“Would you like me to suck you?” I whispered, looking up. He did not reply, but there was the hint of a knot between his eyebrows, speaking volumes about the struggle raging behind them. He also appeared to be holding his breath, his ribcage perfectly still. His hands were fists, bunched at his hips. “I will if you want.”
I waited three beats, then went ahead anyway, wrapping my soft wet lips over his swollen head. One hand went to the base of his shaft, clutching it tightly while the other stroked his balls, enjoying their expansion, using one forefinger to tickle the perineum behind.
A noise - a tiny noise, like a creak at the back of his throat - was dragged out of him once my mouth was full and I began to suck at him, flicking his underside with the tip of my tongue. The dam was going to bust. His hips were quivering. When I looked up, his forehead was shiny with sweat and his eyes bulged.
“Oh Greg,” I would have said, had my mouth not been otherwise occupied. “Surrender to me.”
His pelvis jerked forward, and then he gave in, driven to a long feral moan, and my hair was suddenly yanked up in his hands.
Delirious with victory, I popped off his cock and hissed, “Yessss,” but I was soon pulled upward then pushed back on to the bed.
“Eyes forward!” I shouted, letting his mountain of manhood crush me to the mattress. “Present arms!”
“I’m not on the parade ground now,” he growled, wedging a knee between my thighs, driving them apart, then falling on my breast and devouring a nipple. “And I don’t take orders from you.”
“What about this order?” I gasped, helping him rip off my underwear, kicking my leg up and over his hip. “Fuck me now, soldier.”
“OK, some orders. That one.” He retrieved a condom from his dress trousers before freeing his ankles, shiny boots still on his feet, but there was no way we were stopping to fiddle with shoelaces now. The boots would have to stay.
I yielded up my territory, allowing him to make the big surge forward across no-man’s-land. He fought a valiant battle, but it’s hard to invade a place that’s invited you in, and only minimum force was required for conquest. Lovely minimum force, hands pinning my wrists, bottom wedged be
tween his cock and the bed, mattress bouncing, the ground giving way.
Gunpowder flashed and we wailed like sirens until our heat and fury combined and we became one, blasted to oblivion together, a new alliance forged.
“The Queen is lucky,” I told him, subsiding afterwards into the shelter of his arms.
“Lucky, is she?” he chuckled, holding me tighter, kissing my damp hair.
“To have you, standing guard, ready to protect and defend her. I think she’d be proud of you today.”
He laughed outright, shaking his head at me, finding me whimsical in the extreme, no doubt.
“Proud of me? For enjoying the best shag of my life?”
“For being a true and loyal soldier.”
“I don’t know about the Queen, Annie, but if you want a true and loyal soldier, you only have to ask.”
I curled on my elbow and propped myself up, smiling dewily down at him.
“That’s such a sweet thing to say. Shall I give you my answer while you’re on duty outside the sentry box?”
“Don’t you bloody dare!” he exclaimed, and then I was screaming and flailing again as he rolled me back over and under him.
Mounting the Queen’s Guard would never hold the same meaning again.
Also Available from House of Erotica
Circling
Cassandra Carr
I walked into the kitchen after being away at school for the fall semester of my junior year and spotted him wiping off one of the prep tables. Instantly I knew I was in trouble. The whole summer before we’d been playing the ‘are we or aren’t we’ game. You know the one - you’ve all played it: you meet a guy, you flirt a little...
As my gaze wandered from his uniform of black pants and red polo shirt to his wavy blond hair and those blue, blue eyes he kept cruelly hidden behind glasses he was forever pushing up in the heat and humidity of the kitchen, I wondered, would it happen this time?
I took a deep breath, willing myself to be calm. I’d been at the restaurant since my senior year in high school, and the strange part of it all was that he’d been there the entire time too, but I’d only noticed him when he’d started bussing tables to pick up more hours. I worked as a cocktail waitress, so I had little occasion to interact with the cooks on the line, and they tended to have high turnover back there anyway, so I never paid much attention. If he’d noticed me before last summer, he’d never mentioned it.
He looked up and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“I was wondering if I’d see you.”
“For a couple of weeks.”
He indicated my short black skirt, black tank top, and red shirt tied at my navel. “Are you closing?”
“Not tonight,” I smirked. “They had mercy on me for my first night back.”
He snorted, knowing we worked our asses off in the bar no matter what shift we’d been given. “Cool. I’ll stop in after I’m done.”
I turned away, feeling his hot gaze on me as I made my way to the break room to drop off my stuff. My heart was beating a staccato in my chest and my face was heating like I’d been sitting too close to a fire. I couldn’t believe how quickly everything had come rushing back at me. I groaned. I wanted him. Shaking my head, I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror and went to clock in.
In no time I’d fallen into the familiar routine of the bar; taking orders, delivering drinks, bussing tables, refilling ice buckets - it comes back pretty quickly when you’ve been doing it for three years. Time flew and I could scarcely believe it was already ten thirty when I noticed him meander in and squeeze into a booth in the back with a couple of other staff members. I was about to get him a beer when he waved me off.
“I don’t want anything right now.”
I nodded and went about my business as he watched me. Even behind the glasses I could see his hungry gaze - he didn’t take his eyes off me no matter where I went or what I did. About a half hour later when I walked by on my way to the bar he brushed his fingers against my inner thigh, glancing up as if gauging my reaction. I was holding my breath. He briefly caressed my skin with the rough pads of his fingers, then let go. I felt strangely bereft.
“One of the new guys is having a party tonight. Are you getting out soon?”
“Yeah, I just need to do my side work.”
“Rip me off a sheet from your pad and I’ll give you the address.” I should’ve been mad that he just assumed I’d be there, but frankly, we both knew I would be. We’d been stealing glances, flirting, and lacing conversations with innuendo all last summer. The only reason I hadn’t taken it further by now was because I’d been coming out of a cancelled engagement - a mistake I’d made in a bout of insecurity about my future, and I was feeling gun shy. Flirting was safe, getting involved wasn’t.
I handed the paper and a pen to him and walked away. I wasn’t about to stand there waiting - he could come and find me when he was finished. Every Cosmo girl knows a little chase ups the anticipation factor.
I went into the liquor storage room to gather cocktail napkins and swizzle sticks to refill the containers around the bar. When I turned around, he was right behind me. I gasped, nearly dropping my load. Despite the steel-toed boots he wore, I hadn’t heard a thing. “You scared the hell out of me!”
He smirked. “Here.” When he noticed I didn’t have a hand free, he slid the paper into my apron, his eyes boring into mine all the while. I felt trapped in his gaze. “See you there.” He left and I blew out a harsh breath.
I made quick work of my remaining tasks and ran to the back room to grab my stuff. Shrugging into my coat, I headed out into the deep freeze. My car hadn’t even warmed up by the time I reached the address he’d given me. I stepped inside and saw several other staff members there, along with a bunch of people I didn’t know. Against the wall on the opposite end of the room, lounging on a large ottoman, he sat shooting the shit with some of the other kitchen guys. Like me, he still wore his uniform, and for some reason that made me really hot. I bit my lip.
He spotted me and casually patted the spot beside him. Seeing me as well, the other men left to pursue more interesting ventures. They’d seen this game of cat and mouse from us before. I took off my coat, tossing it on the floor next to us, and sat, half-turned toward him. My skirt rode up my thigh, exposing the fact I was wearing thigh-highs. I found them much more comfortable than pantyhose, especially with all the bending and stretching required in the bar.
His eyes followed the movement. “Nice.” His hand skimmed up my leg, and I let him delve underneath my skirt until he met bare flesh. He squeezed gently, and his nostrils flared as my pussy moistened, spreading my scent around us.
We ignored everyone else in the room. While we talked about nothing of consequence his hand stroked lazily up and down my thigh, occasionally dipping around to cup my ass cheek or quickly delving between my legs. I leaned back and found myself wrapped up in him as he slid his other arm around me.
I wanted in the worst way to splay my legs open, to give myself to him, to let him do whatever he pleased. I was so hot for him; I wanted him so much, but somewhere, far in the recesses of my mind, I remembered we weren’t alone. Despite that, I didn’t know how long I could hold out before I simply clamped around his hand and rode it to an orgasm right there in this guy’s living room.
He leaned further into me, further over me. Finally, finally, after all the months of waiting, all the months of teasing, of flirting, of holding back, he kissed me. His tongue delved into my mouth immediately, and I welcomed it, sucking on it like I was starving for water. He let out a low growl and retreated, breathing hard. “We can’t do this here. I’m about two seconds from taking you right on this fucking ottoman - we need to go.”
I blinked, trying to get my bearings. “Where?”
“My apartmen
t.” He helped me into my coat and threw on his own as he stalked toward the door. We didn’t bother with goodbyes, just rushed into the night, intent upon our destination.
When we reached his apartment, he tossed both of our jackets in the general direction of the couch before hoisting me up on the breakfast bar that separated his kitchen from his living room. He pushed my legs apart and stepped between them, then, with a firm grip on my hips, buried his face in my cleavage, nipping and licking the tops of my swollen breasts.
He pulled back and looked at me, his eyes dark with arousal. “I want to see you,” he snarled. “I want to finally fucking see you; see what I’ve been fantasising about for months.”
Reaching for my red uniform blouse, he loosened the knot at my stomach and then separated the two parts of the shirt, pushing it off my shoulders and clear down my arms, trapping my wrists. My chest heaved as I watched him. “Beautiful...” he mumbled, before taking the blouse the rest of the way off and reaching for the hem of my tank top.
He glanced up at me as if seeking permission and I wound my legs around his waist in response. He groaned as my overheated, damp pussy made contact with his straining erection, and the tank top flew over my head, followed quickly by my bra, baring me to him. “Fucking gorgeous, oh god...” was all he got out before he latched onto my nipple and sucked it into his hot, wet mouth. My back arched and I let out a sound I hardly recognised as coming from within me as the sensations raced through my blood and settled in my pussy, making me cream even more for his touch.
I clutched at his hair, holding his head at my breast as he sucked harder. Soon, I began to writhe. “Yes, yes, oh god, just like that, yes...”
With a loud smacking noise he released my nipple and threw me a predatory grin. “You’re so hot. So responsive, I’ve been waiting for so long...” He moved to the other one and gave it similar treatment. The rough material from his uniform shirt abraded my sensitised skin as he pushed closer. Never had such an ordinary thing felt so sexy. I moaned, throwing my head back as he licked upward from my breasts to my neck, capturing my head in his big hands to pull my mouth down to his kiss.
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