The horses’ legs splashed in the white froth of the rolling waves, their mouths straining against the confines of the bit.
Penny laughed. Stephen, David, and even Auberon, who had appeared a little distracted on the way here, laughed as the spray blew into their faces and white-winged, black-headed gulls cackled overhead.
The canter was fast, but the rhythm of its tempo was as steady as ever, the rolling slide and the horse’s back warm, smooth and arousing against her naked pussy.
Out of the corner of her eye, Penny could see Stephen, then David, then Auberon, their cocks flipping from side to side across the horses’ withers. Even so, she she knew they were stiffening as they rode; she knew the rhythm of the ride was having the same effect on them as it was having on her.
Droplets of sea water flew into her face, clung to her hair and splattered her breasts with a brisk coolness. Her nipples burst into expectant peaks, and her exposed clitoris bumped and slid along her horse’s back.
All the while she laughed as she raced Auberon on one of his mounts, Stephen on another, and David on her own chestnut. She rode her grey.
At a fast gallop, they reached the end of the beach to where unassailable rocks broke jaggedly skywards and divided their private seascape from the more public areas beyond.
‘We’d better turn round,’ Stephen shouted breathlessly, his horse rearing as he reined it in.
Now Penny fastened her eyes on his unfettered penis which seemed to rear its head in time with the horse.
Just as he had suggested, they did turn round. This time, Penny did not lead the chase, but reined in at a slower pace behind. Responding to her own thoughts and fancies, she had an urge to study their gait, those taut buttocks and firm thighs bouncing up and down on the horses’ backs as they made their way back to the horsebox and Alistair.
It was a pleasant sight to ride behind those broad shoulders and bouncing bottoms, David’s being more hairy than the other two. As they bounced upwards, she could detect the faint outline of their balls hanging like ripe money bags beneath their meaty arses. As she watched, she was aware of her own arousal, and of the heat of her sex and the liquid moistness of her folds of pink flesh.
Portable tanks of fresh water had been made ready back at the horsebox by the time she got there, and David was hanging up the last of the hay nets for the horses to pull on.
She came to a halt and slid down from the back of her mount as David took the reins from her.
Penny looked around for Alistair. She couldn’t see him. As if in desperation, she shielded her eyes with one hand, looked up at the cliffs, then looked out to sea towards the sparkling patch where the sun danced like diamonds on the heaving surface.
‘Ahoy there! Up here!’
In the shadow of a cave where the sea had eaten the cliff, Alistair stood waving his arms. Beside him, a huge flat rock had been set with crisp linen, and the sunlight that tickled at the cave mouth made the silver cutlery and lead-crystal wine glasses sparkle so much that they shielded their eyes with their hands.
‘Lunch is served!’ Penny heard Alistair shout. The big beefy form of his chauffeur sauntered off in the direction of the cliff road, then he and the Rolls-Royce disappeared above the brow of the cliffs. Privacy was all theirs.
‘Can’t wait,’ said David, with one last and covetous look at Penny’s crotch as though it were the delicacy of the moment. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Can’t wait for afters,’ added Stephen, glancing mischievously at David and Auberon before looking at her. A burst of sexual apprehension made her rub the inside of one thigh. Afters, she decided, was something she, too, could look forward to.
Lemon-roasted chicken, crisp salad, fresh bread rolls and salty butter had been spread out on a low, flat rock in the middle of the cave. In a trickle of water running in mossy green bands over the rocks, stood three bottles of wine. White towels had been folded and left on top of the wicker-weave hampers in which the food and the wine had arrived, courtesy of Alistair’s chauffeur.
Their bare feet having sunk into the soft warm sand, they now washed them off downstream from the lazing wine bottles, whose corks had already been removed.
‘The feast is prepared,’ said Alistair, spreading his arms and grinning broadly. His dark, grey-streaked hair was caught by the breeze and hurled across his forehead, and Penny perceived the faint aroma of fresh male sweat. A knot of delicious apprehension began to unwind in her empty stomach. It was a pleasant feeling, as though it were a ball of thick angora wool being slowly unravelled from its tightly bound coil.
In that sudden moment when his hand brushed his hair to one side and she breathed his maleness, Alistair’s eyes held hers. He smiled, and again he looked her up and down. There was a subtle ease to the way he did it, as though he had all the time in the world to focus on her breasts and nipples which the cold spray had teased to ripe prominence. Droplets of water still ran over her tingling flesh, and her breath rose quickly and excitably in her breast.
Alistair’s gaze slid over her belly and hips before settling like a homing pigeon on the burst of pubic hair that erupted from her ripe sex. This had swollen and moistened as a result of her gallop along the surf-tossed shoreline.
Visibly she responded to his look. Her breath quickened, her flesh trembled and she ran her tongue over salt-dried lips. She couldn’t believe the difference in the man now his sister wasn’t around. They smiled foolishly at each other, almost as if they were love-struck teenagers allowed away from home for the first time.
But Nadine had too much power. Even here, her long arm was reaching to touch both her brother and the woman she was saving him for. Yet another tableau was about to commence, and once the food was eaten and the wine well on its way to being consumed, neither Penny nor Alistair were inclined to do anything much about it. They could only be sucked into it; become part of it, like players on a stage.
‘This is like an altar,’ said Stephen, once the food was eaten, the dishes packed away and the crisp white cloth folded beneath the lid of the hamper.
‘Fit for a sacrifice,’ exclaimed David. His eyes shone brightly, almost wickedly, as they met Stephen’s and Auberon’s. With obvious intent, he ran his hand over the flatness of the rock.
‘Fit for a virgin sacrifice,’ added Auberon, his eyes glancing swiftly towards Penny before meeting those of his colleagues.
Tentatively Penny touched the rock. They could not know what she was feeling, that she was certain Nadine was here – in spirit if not in body. She stayed silent and prepared. Tentacles of abandonment reached up from somewhere deep and strangled any inhibitions she might still have.
‘I don’t know any,’ said Alistair with a laugh, as he drained the last of the wine, glass in one hand, bottle in the other. Thankfully, his chauffeur, Broderick, was sat snoozing back at the wheel of his car having drunk nothing more powerful than a flask of instant coffee, so he was at liberty to indulge.
‘Then we’ll have to use the next best thing,’ murmured David, his dark eyes fixed on Penny’s bright-blue ones. ‘An experienced woman will do.’ With a sweet softness that sent shivers down Penny’s spine and caused the ball of wool in her stomach to again unwind most pleasantly, he ran his fingers from her shoulder to her elbow.
Her response was immediate. Her eyes were bright and enthusiasm coloured her cheeks, making her body undulate with a rare subtlety. The wine got the blame at first until she actually admitted to herself that in reality it was her who was sparkling and full of hidden depths and after-taste.
Briefly she glanced over at Alistair who, by virtue of his more relaxed demeanour today, was visibly more attractive, and the sight of him was extremely arousing. Abstinence was not his creed. She could see that in his eyes. And yet, where there should have been a hard lump growing and throbbing against his flies, there was nothing discernible at all. The knowledge confused and disappointed her.
She did not protest as David and Stephen helped her up on to the flat sto
ne. Her naked flesh tingled as much from growing desire as from the coolness of the rock. It was surprisingly smooth against her back. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Food and drink had already been digested. Now, she told herself, she was due other things.
There was silence for a moment before she realised her hands had been clasped and pulled above her head. Hands also fastened around her ankles and prised them gently apart. It was a curiously comfortable imprisonment, especially as the third pair of hands, those belonging to Auberon, massaged her proud breasts and teased her nipples to even pinker prominence.
She moaned as she opened her eyes, and told herself that today was turning out even better than she’d expected, and so what about the wager? So what about Nadine and her whispered instructions back there in the stable yard? Everything that was happening to her she was allowing to happen. Lie back, she told herself almost hypnotically, and enjoy.
‘Now what game are you playing?’ she asked as shivers of apprehension and a fine film of sweat spread over her skin.
‘One you’ll enjoy,’ replied Stephen, whose green eyes were boyish and his white flesh still attractive even though he’d caught the redness of the sun across his broad shoulders. After his lips had kissed her forehead, his thumb and fingers gently stroked her wrist as if trying to put her at her ease. Not that she really needed that. Just remembering the sight of the male riders’ naked behinds and swaying penises when they had galloped back down the beach was enough to drench her sex with spicy hot fluids. He kissed her forehead again before leaning over so his tongue could trace the contours of her ear.
‘Will you play with us?’ he asked.
Her breasts rose and her eyes opened wide as they met his. Of course she would play with him. Stephen had a well-formed body made even harder by the strenuous work he undertook in and around the stable yard. His hardness would feel good on her softness. And yet she wanted to tease him. ‘What if I say no?’ she asked capriciously, turning her head away from his exploring mouth.
‘Then you’ll have to pay a forfeit.’ His grin was cheeky, as though he already knew what her answer would be and, what’s more, welcomed it.
‘First things first,’ David interrupted, dark eyes dancing, dark hair falling in thick waves around his neck. ‘We have to take her virginity first.’
‘True,’ returned Stephen. ‘Mr Harding. Take her hands whilst I take her virginity.’
Penny giggled and wriggled her hips suggestively. ‘What virginity?’
‘What cock?’ responded Stephen, who, to her surprise, waved a long, smooth, phallic-shaped rock in her face. She eyed its thickness and ran her wet tongue along her dry lips. How dark it was, how cool it would feel. Her hips rose speculatively.
Obviously pleased with her reaction, Stephen’s eyes glittered before he lowered his eyes and trailed the coldness of the rock down one side of her face then the other.
‘Is this cool enough for you?’ he asked, between hot breaths.
‘Yes,’ she sighed, her voice slow and just a little slurred; more so from excitement than the amount of wine she had consumed. As her imagination worked overtime and assessed just how the rock would feel, she stared at it with mounting desire and just a tinge of apprehension. It was a good width as well as a good length.
Her ankles, which were gripped in David’s strong hands, were spread further apart, but the cool air that blew in from the sea did nothing to subdue the heat between her legs. Like a flood of early morning dew, the honey of her arousal moistened her and trickled like ticklish flngertips between her buttocks.
‘Grip her tightly,’ Stephen ordered Auberon.
She wanted to ask what for. She wasn’t going anywhere and, anyway, Alistair was watching. Alistair was always watching.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him. He did nothing, either to stop this happening or to join in. All the same, she could see he was hypnotised by the unfolding scene, his eyes glazed and his square chin hanging like a half-open door. Occasionally, his tongue ran along the length of his drying lips.
But Alistair could watch if he wanted to. She was the centre of this thing, the sacrifice lying on the altar. Just the thought and the feel of it was giddily pleasant.
She moaned and arched her back, thrusting her breasts skywards as if meeting the body of an unseen lover.
With gently experienced fingers, Stephen opened her nether lips and started to insert the tip of the rock between the petals of her yearning flesh. She gasped, her breath caught in her throat, and she felt as if she were just a mass of senses aching to enjoy and be enjoyed. Just as she had supposed, the stone was cool – very cool – and her sex was very hot.
‘Is it in?’ she heard David ask.
‘The first inch,’ replied Stephen, threads of excitement adding extra timbre to his voice. ‘I’m just going to give her a little bit at a time.’
Penny moaned dolefully and her hips rocked in expectation. Already, that one initial inch was not enough.
‘Give me more,’ she begged, and lifted her pelvis away from the cold surface of the altar.
‘You’ll get more soon,’ whispered Auberon, bending his head so his mouth was against her ear. ‘Be patient.’ As if to reassure her, he leant further forward and kissed each of her breasts, his teeth gripping them gently at first before stretching them to their full extent, almost as if he were trying to swallow them. The wetness of her sex increased as her breasts strained upwards between his teeth. They seemed as unwilling to leave his mouth as he was to let go of her nipples.
‘And now for a little more,’ she heard Stephen say.
His fingers still held her outer lips and her labia apart. Another portion of the smooth stone entered her. An inch, perhaps two.
‘And more,’ he repeated.
She gasped as another portion pushed its hard and cold way inside her. The muscles of her vagina gripped the intruder as if they would not release it until climax had been reached and pleasure was all hers. All the time, Auberon sucked and licked her nipples, an alternate strategy of pleasure followed by pain.
‘Lovely,’ she heard David say. ‘Let me have a look.’
As Auberon raised his head to see what his compatriots were doing, Penny could see Stephen straighten and David lean forward between her legs to study the penetrating rock and her penetrated sex more closely.
‘Give her more,’ David said breathlessly. ‘Go on. Don’t be mean, leaving her in limbo like that.’
Words totally failed Penny. She was lost in her own ecstasy. Whatever they did was entirely up to them. She was at their mercy, half-full, and there was so much rock still to go.
She saw Stephen smile at David as though there was some secret between them.
‘All right,’ said Stephen, still smiling.
‘Keep upright,’ added David, his eyes now fixed on her open outer and inner lips, ‘so I can see it going in.’
Penny closed her eyes and moaned louder as she felt Stephen’s fingers holding her lips open and the smooth stone being pushed in as far as it would go so its base pressed deliciously on her demanding clitoris and tingling nerve ends.
‘Marvellous,’ she heard from David, who, from his position holding her ankles, was leaning forward so he could see the invasion more clearly as it happened. ‘Let me have a go now.’
Reluctantly, Stephen changed places with David. There was a slurping of juices as David thrust the rock more strongly into her willing cunt.
She cried out, certain that her orgasm was no more than a few thrusts away and rapidly rose her hips to meet it.
David’s good-natured face smiled down at her, his dark hair clinging damply around his glistening skin. ‘See how kind I am to you. I won’t leave you in limbo, Penny. Would you like me to really make it feel good?’
She nodded automatically.
‘I thought you might.’ David grinned.
Almost in defiance at her restricted limbs, she writhed on the flat stone. The feelings that were tingling her body w
ere snaring her voice. It was trapped in her throat, and she could do nothing – nothing at all – to let it free.
Gripping the rock with one hand, his other keeping her sex wide open, David nudged it in regular time against the dewy moistness of her clit.
‘You’re soaking wet,’ he said, and sounded full of wonder.
She didn’t answer. She was lost in a labyrinth of her own senses, her eyes closed and her will put on hold whilst the hands held her and the hard stone did its work.
‘That should be about enough,’ said Auberon suddenly.
His voice surprised her. Even though it was him holding on to her wrists, she had almost forgotten he was there. So had Stephen and David. Above her, they both looked across her and at him, then at each other.
For the moment, they seemed to have forgotten Alistair altogether. Penny hadn’t. She was intent on knowing exactly what his reactions were. Twisting herself against the restraining hands and the hard and cold intruder, Penny peered through the crook of David’s arm.
Alistair was sitting on a rock, his eyes glazed, wineglass in one hand and newly opened bottle in the other. Even from where she was, she could hear the quickness of his breathing. He was with them, but only in mind. Only his eyes was enjoying what she and the boys were experiencing. His loins were still held in check: with them, wanting to be with them, yet seemingly unable to be.
The rock was removed and Penny was helped to her feet. She began to protest. Stephen smacked her bottom in rebuke.
‘Now, now. Naughty, naughty!’
‘Now you have to play with us.’ This was Auberon saying this, with an odd brightness in his eyes which she had never seen before. Up until now, Stephen and David had dominated the action. Now, with eyes gleaming, Auberon seemed to be taking over.
‘Kneel down,’ Stephen ordered. ‘Mr Harding’s right. It’s your turn to play with us.’ He grinned again, that cheeky, boyish grin that made her think whatever he had in store for her might be a lot better or a lot worse than it looked – mostly the latter.
‘On this,’ Auberon added, and with a consideration that she much appreciated, he placed the folded tablecloth on the rough sand. Obviously, she decided, she would be kneeling for some time.
The Stallion Page 17