She laughed lightly and, in the dimness of the room now lit only by a few stray beams of moonlight, she watched as he removed his clothes, her legs gradually opening as the full beauty of his torso was revealed.
In the moonlight, he looked even more like a Greek god: the Apollo of legend, or Hector of Troy. His skin glistened and his muscles rippled. Proudly erect and rearing in expectation, his manhood stood but a hand-span from her face as Gregory paused and stood silently at the side of the bed.
Enthralled by its splendour, she lifted her head from her pillow, leant on one elbow and reached out to encircle the offering he had brought her.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘Good enough to eat.’
‘Then eat it.’
He tangled his fingers in her hair and brought her head closer until her lips kissed his throbbing crown. It reared in ecstasy, and, as though to calm its excitement, she flicked at it enticingly with the tip of her tongue whilst her fingers held him firmly. His flesh was as warm and soft as crushed velvet in the palm of her hand. Of course, her actions did nothing to calm his excitement. Like a live animal, it moved in her hand and leapt towards her tongue.
She opened her mouth and sucked him in until she was halfway down his mighty stem. Her hands caressed the peachy softness of his balls that hung like ripe and glorious fruit between his thighs.
‘Let go,’ he breathed suddenly and, to her surprise, took her hands from his cock. ‘Sssh!’ he added. ‘Just do as I say.’
She let her hands fall and lay back on the pillow.
Thick red ropes held back the green-and-red tapestry curtains that hung from her bed. Gregory took these; as Penny writhed with rising excitement, he wound them around her wrists then tied them to the thick barley sugar twists of the wooden uprights.
He did the same to her ankles. Now the soft moonlight lit her body. She was spread-eagled against the thick bed cover.
‘Now,’ he said, kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobes. ‘Now, don’t be afraid. I am going to do everything that you need. You need only lie there and feel what I am going to do to you. It will be sheer pleasure. Is that understood?’
In the light of the moon, he saw her nod. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
By the light of that same moon, she saw him smile.
‘Good,’ he whispered back.
From her bedside drawer he took a pair of stockings. They were black ones and, if she remembered rightly, they were trimmed at the top with black lace and red bows. But she wouldn’t be wearing these, she thought to herself, not now, tied up as she was.
Raising her head from the pillow with one hand, Gregory wound one stocking around her eyes. Now she could not even see the moonlight. He tied it behind her head in a smooth and comfortable knot.
The other stocking he used around her mouth as a gag. What he did to her ears, she didn’t know. Perhaps they were a pair of skiing earmuffs. All she knew was that she could neither speak, nor see, nor hear. Only one sense was left to her – that of touch.
She lay in her dark and silent world, knowing that Gregory was gazing at her helpless body. In her darkness, she tried to imagine what he was seeing and feeling.
Gregory was gazing at her. He was transfixed by the helpless beauty of her offered body. Vulnerability and the softness of moonlight had made her more beautiful than he could ever have imagined. She was naked, and her sex open to anything he cared to put into it. And that, he knew, was where he scored over Nadine. He had the ultimate weapon to put into her. Nadine did not have that. Alistair did, but seemed disinclined to act.
He put Nadine and Alistair from his mind. Now he had Penny to himself.
He ran his hands down from her shoulders and rolled her breasts in the firmness of his palms. Her back arched and her body sought to reach him.
‘Patience, my beauty,’ he whispered, his breath directed on her cheek. She felt that breath, but could barely hear the words upon it.
His fingers rolled her nipples before he kissed them and enjoyed the small squeal of delight that broke from beyond the nylon gag.
He lay the hardness of his chest against her absolute softness. Then he raised himself up on his hands and bent his head to nibble ruthlessly at her nipples.
Beneath him, her pelvis writhed. He understood what she was after; knew the hardness of his penis was heavy against her and that she was wet with desire.
‘Not yet,’ he murmured, even though she could not hear him.
Penny did, indeed, want his penis in her. His whole body was hot and hard against her, yet his penis was hotter. She wanted it badly, and in the dark world where only touch was left to her, the need for penetration was more greatly intensified.
His lips were hot as they travelled over her body and made her back arch more severely than before. She felt them linger over her belly, and felt the wetness of his tongue dive into her navel before his journey continued. Everything was feeling; it was all touch. Her very link with the world outside her darkness was touch and, because of that, her senses were sharper and her responses more intense.
Fronds of pubic hair were sucked into his mouth along with her flesh, and she rolled her hips with pleasure as his fingers opened her outer lips then furled back the delicate folds beneath.
Behind the closeness of her bonds, she whimpered. If she had not been gagged, she would have screamed for more.
Wetness erupted in her sex as his tongue flicked lightly over her clitoris. Her legs felt weak and, no matter what side she turned to, she could not escape his tongue, his lips or his hands. But then, she didn’t want to.
Her body tingled, her sex was tantalised. Nothing remained in her mind except the sensations of this experience. In her dark, silent world, sex had taken over her mind, her being – her whole body. Nothing else existed: not the room, not the moonlight; not even Gregory. Sex had stolen her soul.
When at last it felt as though her sanity was under threat, he entered her. But, like everything else, it filled her being as well as her pussy.
Each sweet thrust made her nerves tingle and her body tremble. Slowly he thrust, then faster, then slower again.
Just the size of him was enough to blow her mind. She had wondered at it even before he had blindfolded her. His penis, she thought, was the one thing that bore no resemblance whatsoever to a Greek or Roman god. Like the copper statue that peed perpetually into the fountain in the courtyard, it was big and owed nothing at all to classical statuary, except perhaps its shape.
But thoughts about size, shape and what it looked like were being steadily overtaken by her imminent climax. She lifted her pelvis to meet him, the mound that enclosed her bud of passion slamming with easy precision against him.
She felt his hands cover her breasts and his fingers fondle her rising nubs and she rolled in delight. His stomach slammed hard and quick against her, and his cock, engorged with the blood of his own passion, filled her like no other had before.
Higher and higher her passion soared in her dark, silent world. She threw her head back, the only part of her body that could still truly move. Her teeth bit into her gag, and her pelvis heaved like a volcanic eruption to meet his.
It felt as if she could swallow him up whole, as though she were a very deep well around which his and her orgasm could echo till time immemorial, never-ending, always teetering on the edge of total climax.
Strongly and virulently like an explosion of dynamite, she came.
Her hips thrust again and again to meet him. She struggled against her bonds, her cries of release captured in the silky smoothness of her gag.
She felt Gregory tense above her. Then the throb of his release in gradually diminishing sensations until his orgasm was finished.
Not until he had repeated his attention twice more, and dawn had pushed morning through the window, did he untie her.
They embraced before he left, the heat of his muscles reigniting her passion for one last, more mutual liaison before he left her.
He had been loa
th to stay that bit longer, a slight nervousness entering his eyes when she had first suggested it. But once her lips were on his and her hand had captured his rising stem, his will was no longer his own.
Dawn had barely broken, but Nadine, as always, was up early. Behind the mirror she watched, grim-faced, her body still damp and naked from her early-morning shower.
‘My, my,’ she growled, her lips hardly parting, her teeth barely moving. She let her towel slip to the ground, and caressed one breast with her hand whilst the other folded back her shorn labia and teased her ripe bud to erection. ‘But you are a disobedient little pussy, aren’t you. But never mind, Nadine will do something about that. Nadine will break you in to her will.’
With that, she threw her head back and plunged her finger into her own warm depository.
9
NADINE WAS A great believer in sea water. Not that she was alone in that belief. Many in the past and present have praised its healing capacity and sworn by its ability to strengthen equine tendons as they prance and gallop through the waves.
The beach was two hours’ drive away and, being that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and a warm day was forecast, lunch had been packed in generous hampers. Wine, milk, cream and butter had been safely stored in a couple of cool boxes.
Nadine seemed inordinately full of herself prior to their departure and would probably have continued in that mood for the rest of the day if Alistair had not informed her that she was to pick Sir Reggie’s daughter, Clarissa, up from the airport.
Then her brightness turned to thunder.
Taking discretion as the best part of valour, and throwing herself into grooming, polishing and helping the stable lads, Penny noted the furrowed eyebrows and black looks and made an extra effort to keep out of her way. Auberon, perhaps by choice, did not.
It was only when Penny slipped into the dark humidity of the hay barn and heard the swish of a riding crop and the loud thwack of its contact with bare flesh, that she realised Nadine was taking out her bad mood on Auberon’s bare buttocks.
She timed her footsteps to coincide with each stroke so the crunching of gravel or rustling of straw could not be heard as she crept towards the sound.
Auberon was on all fours, trousers around his ankles, and Nadine was applying red stripes to his behind with all the strength at her disposal.
Nadine’s usually pale face was fire red, and her steel-grey eyes blazed with light.
Penny held still and watched a while, her own breath quickening and her hips rotating as she imagined the delicious tremors of delight that Auberon was enjoying. But Nadine knew that, too.
With a look of cruel delight in her eyes, Nadine stayed her hand.
‘Roll over,’ she ordered.
Auberon obeyed.
Penny covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes opened wide as she beheld Auberon’s mighty member, proudly erect, a pearl drop of semen balancing on its quivering tip.
‘My, my,’ she heard Nadine say. ‘I see you’re almost there, my dear boy.’
‘Y . . . es, y . . . es,’ stammered Auberon as Nadine trailed the tip of the riding crop around his upright penis and over his ginger-haired balls.
‘If I just tapped that one little opening of yours,’ drawled Nadine, her voice laced with menace, ‘that eyelet of passion, you’d come, wouldn’t you, pretty boy?’
‘Y . . . es,’ stammered Auberon again. ‘Y . . . es, y . . . es, I would.’
The cruelty of Nadine’s sudden smile matched the look in her eyes.
‘But I won’t!’ she growled. With that, she withdrew the crop and carried it upright across her shoulder as though it were a rifle.
The look of disappointment on Auberon’s face was matched only by the sudden wilting of his erection.
Lightly touching her own twitching sex, Penny watched in astonished disbelief as what had been hard became soft and curled in upon itself. She saw the tears in Auberon’s eyes. How cruel Nadine could be when she didn’t get her own way, Penny thought to herself, and how much she must have wanted to go to the beach.
From common sense and her own knowledge of Nadine, Penny suspected something special had been planned for the occasion. What that something was she hadn’t a clue, but if Nadine’s treatment of Auberon was anything to go by, it must be pretty unusual and particularly special.
As she left Auberon and Nadine, she made a big effort to banish the thought that whatever plan had been scuppered today would be back another day . . . and with greater intensity.
But she forgot about Beaumont Place and Nadine once they were up in the horsebox and away.
A carefree atmosphere travelled with them to the coast. The windows were open and a warm breeze kissed her face and softly caressed her neck. Her eyes were bright, as blue as the sky, and she smelt of fresh spring flowers.
She felt cool today, shorts, T-shirt and trainers replacing the usual riding gear. Today, her long hair was plaited into a thick rope that reached just beyond her shoulder blades.
Around her, disturbed only by the breeze, was the smell of horses and leather, and the faint, but irresistible scent of well-muscled young men.
Stephen drove, Penny sat next to him, and Auberon and a beefy stable-lad with dark hair and a cleft chin named David sat next to him.
Before they had left, Penny had watched with some curiosity as Nadine had gathered the boys to her. They’d huddled in a group for a few minutes, with Nadine’s long arms around their necks, drawing them to her like a clutch of this year’s ducklings.
Although her curiosity had been aroused, Penny didn’t let her being left out of the head-to-head worry her. It was too nice a day for that. Whatever Nadine had instructed, obviously it didn’t apply to her, so she didn’t even bother to ask the boys what had been said.
Today she felt elated, and once the briny freshness of the sea breeze blew through the cab of the horsebox, all thoughts of Nadine and Beaumont Place were left behind – or they would have been, if Alistair hadn’t been following them.
Alistair never travelled in the horsebox. He always followed on behind in his chauffeur-driven car, a gleaming Rolls-Royce that had a sister Bentley in the garage, plus the black Porsche that Nadine drove.
The spot on the coast they headed for was private, and belonged, like a lot of other things, to Alistair Beaumont.
Steep cliffs topped with private woods of thick gorse and virgin birch surrounded the beach. A private road ran through the trees and a high gate was locked firmly behind them.
The beach formed an almost perfect crescent of yellow sand. With the sound of tumbling waves came the sound of the horses in the box behind them, nickering with excitement once they’d detected the change of air and the fact that the box had rolled to a halt.
‘It’s getting hotter,’ said Penny, tilting her head to look up at the blue sky overhead and the fringe of steep cliffs around them, where seagulls circled and shrieked to the bright day.
‘That’s why we’re parked here,’ said Stephen with a wink, his lithe muscles swimming invitingly beneath the whiteness of his boat-necked T-shirt. ‘Shady for the horses. Never mind us mere mortals.’
Penny laughed with him and tossed her plaited tail.
‘But you’re going to be hot,’ said Alistair, his eyes raking over her peach-coloured T-shirt and matching shorts. ‘You should take it all off.’
‘Yes,’ said Penny in an uncharacteristically clipped manner. Alistair had taken her by surprise. There was something about him today that was different. There was no furtiveness about his wandering eyes and broad smile, no perceived barrier between her and him. What was it, she asked herself, that was so different? She answered her own question: Nadine was not here.
She couldn’t let this chance go. She must not; she had to take advantage of it. She pulled her T-shirt over her head. Her breasts bounced free, pink nipples responding proudly to the breezy air. Her sweat was sweet and tinged with a light floral spray.
As if the breeze had caugh
t it and flung it their way, the two stable lads stopped what they were doing; eyes glazing over and pricks pounding against their zips, they molested her breasts with their minds.
‘Not a bad idea, eh, sir?’ Stephen said suddenly, his eyes looking squarely at Alistair, though sidelong glances played like the breeze over Penny’s firm mounds.
Alistair stared for a moment before he answered. ‘No,’ he said at last in a long rush of breath. ‘Not a bad idea at all.’
Penny, like the stable-lads and Auberon, took everything off. Now the breeze kissed and parted her pubic hair and cooled the warmth of her rounded behind, which had sat too long on the journey to get here.
To her disappointment Alistair did not take off his clothes, but his eyes were fixed on her. He made no bones about it, and the barest hint of a smile played around his lips as his gaze travelled from her bouncing breasts to the glossy patch of hair that nestled between her thighs.
‘What about you?’ she asked him as the lads bridled up the horses.
‘No!’ He stepped back from her reaching hands as though they might burn him if he allowed them to touch him.
She tried to read his eyes, then dropped her gaze to his pubic area. Disappointment made her frown. How could he be so different from the others? How could he not be excited by the aspect of her bare body and thrusting breasts? It didn’t seem real.
She returned her gaze to his eyes. They met hers. They were bright, and his breathing seemed tight in his chest. He wanted her. She knew he did, and yet his cock gave no sign of it.
Confused and feeling slightly temperamental, she turned away from him and returned the smiles Stephen and David so willingly gave her. Even Auberon was forthright in his gaze as if his inhibitions had been thrown off with his clothes.
‘Do you want a leg-up?’ asked David, the burly lad with the dark hair and unusual chin. The first juices of arousal wetted his palm as he placed one hand beneath her seat to get her up on the bare back of the horse.
No saddles today. They galloped the beach bareback. Alistair was left far behind them.
The Stallion Page 16