Tonight, he would have to work for the privilege. Gradually, she lowered one hand to her mound, combing through the sparse pubic hair. She felt the lips of her cunt seeping with wet heat, throbbing beneath her fingers. She pulled back her outer labia, flaunting the inner pink slit and clitoris. She looked down at his bulging groin then up to his eyes. “Stroke yourself.”
He tore open his trousers and whipped out a rigid stalk of male meat, a sight that never failed to awe her. Grabbing the beefy stalk roughly, his hand moved up and down the long length as he fondled his scrotum with his other hand. His eyes never left her cunt, evidently mesmerized by her fingers now caressing her flesh avidly.
“Don’t make yourself come. I want to do that.” His tongue swept over his lips like a ravenous lion about to attack his prey.
“I know you do. For now, sit, and enjoy.” Her nipples were engorged, filled with excess breast milk. She squeezed the hard tip, rolling it between her fingers until warm breast milk spilled over her fingers and dripped down to her stomach to settle in her belly button then spilled out over her mound. With her free hand, she sank two fingers deep inside the drenched gap. Instead of feeling bliss, her unsatisfied cunt throbbed longingly for his rock-hard cock.
His strokes became harder, urgent. “Damn you, Megan, let me fill that juicy pussy. I can see you dripping from here.”
“Patience, darling,” she whispered, her hand moving from her breast to her clit to try and enhance her pleasure. Her pussy tingled with rising desire as she touched her clitoris, already hard and throbbing. She rubbed her clit faster and faster with one hand while pushing in and out of the hot depths of her pussy with the other.
The swollen lips of her cunt burned with arousal against her fingers. Her moans grew in intensity at the pleasurable stroking of the distinctly wet, squelchy passage. Soon her hips began to undulate wildly. Still, she was nowhere near coming.
“Come on, Megan. That oozing cunt of yours can never be satisfied with just your tiny fingers. You can’t wait to have my cock inside you.”
Damn him, he knew her so well. Nevertheless, she wasn’t about to let him have his way. “Caleb mentioned wanting a baby. How will you manage when you won’t be able to have this?” She withdrew her fingers just shy of the entrance and parted the quivering opening to expose the innermost channel throbbing with an overwhelming desire for the bonelike hardness of his penis.
“I’ll show you.” In two strides, he was there.
She shrieked when he flipped her over on all fours, slippers flying off her feet. He plunged his fingers inside the pooled moisture between her cuntlips and pulled out. In an instant, he coated his cock, took hold of her hips, and pushed his bulbous cockhead past the rigid sphincter muscles with considerable force.
Megan cried out at the startling invasion, her hips bucking violently against his firm grip. Dropping her head on the desk with her arms braced in front of her, she tried to hold on. Her anal ring gripped the pulsing cockhead so tightly tears clouded her eyes. She could feel his enormous cock working its way into her reluctant anus, forcing the tight muscles open. Thick inch by thick inch penetrated her until a good two to three inches bore into her.
He grunted roughly, twisting and churning as he drove deeper into her bowels, crowding her rectum with the broad head. His large hands grasped her buttocks, spreading them farther apart. The wide, slick surface of his shaft withdrawing then plunging back again, with each thrust her clitoris throbbed, and her loins responded.
Every nerve in her yielding anus contracted blissfully as the intense pain eased. She glanced over her shoulder, and chills of lust rippled all the way through her body. Half his foot-long cock was jammed into her. His embedded rod stuck out of the hole between her white buttocks like a dark, reddish-purple, wooden club, igniting havoc upon her pulsating flesh as he forged deeper still.
He always seemed to hold back. Unlike Caleb, whose sperm-laden scrotum tickled her pussy while he fucked her asshole. Rarely did Devin’s balls slap against her when he took her anally. She had to have every last inch even if it killed her. “Deeper, Devin, damn you, fuck me with everything you got. Make me come.”
“I’ll fuck you, Megan, morning, noon, and night. Your sweet ass, your wet mouth, tight pussy, any way you want. I’ll make you come.” He reached underneath and buried three thick fingers inside her empty pussy, causing her to moan with delight. “However you want it, baby, I’m yours.”
“Oh, yes, Devin,” she whimpered at the exquisite rapture of his cock pulling out of her slowly, stroking the mouth of her convulsing channel. She felt his fingers push the protective hood as far back as it would go, milking the sensitive little pea underneath. A fiery heat radiated through her entire body. She cried softly, “Stick it in me…fuck me!”
He slammed back into her upturned ass, his massive hardness drilling between her buttocks. His cock throbbed inside her grabby rectum, and she responded by pushing back, wiggling and bouncing her ass around the tightness of his cock.
Then she felt it, his heavy balls slapping against her sensitive flesh. Her body trembled with an incredible sensation that was almost unbearable. Twelve inches of hard cock was fucking her rectum. The thin membrane stretched impossibly wide, quaking in shock around his huge cock. Tears streaming down her eyes, nipples smearing milky slime along the glass, and legs turning to wobbly jelly, she held on to the edge of the desk as her entire body shook in a daze of pain and pleasure. Her rising passion surged toward release as his wide hips whacked against her ass with each jarring thrust. “Fuck me! Rip me apart with your cock! Give it to me!”
* * * *
“Odds are Devin is in his study. That’s where he keeps his rare stock. Don’t know what’s keeping him.”
Randolph Sinclair’s dark blond brows arched faintly. In a splendid mood to tease his dearest friend, he urbanely replied, “Am I to assume an honorable guest such as myself unworthy of the best liquor the Spawn household has to offer?
Caleb smiled awkwardly, as though unsure whether to take him seriously or not. They turned the corner into the west wing that led to Devin’s office. “Rest assured, my dear friend, Devin is very generous. Do not let his coarse demeanor mislead you. If you desired the last drop of spirits, by all means, consider it yours.”
“A drop!” scoffed Randolph, laying a hand over his chest as though affronted. “One could hardly be satisfied with a mere drop.”
Caleb snorted, shaking his head.
Randolph heard muted noises coming from the open door to Devin’s office several yards farther. His ears perked up at the noted sound of his hostess’s cries of intense delight. He placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder and raised a finger to his lips to silence him.
He tiptoed over the lush carpet toward the open doorway, gesturing for Caleb to follow.
Caleb complied somewhat reluctantly.
Each step, Devin’s grunts became louder. Randolph identified Megan’s encouraging pants of “Yes, yes, deeper…that feels so good…” His senses were inundated with sexual anticipation.
When he reached the door, Randolph was disappointed and captivated by the carnal scene taking place some twenty feet in front of him. He had half expected to see them tangled on the floor or couch naked. Instead, he stared at Devin’s fully clothed backside standing in front of his desk thrusting his powerful hips.
“Oh! I’m coming…” Sprawled atop the desk, Megan screamed her husband’s name during what sounded like a climactic ovation. Given no time to recover from Devin riding her like a wild stallion, the sound of her cries of ecstasy changed, became demanding. “Push harder! Don’t hold back, fuck me hard! Fuck me like a whore. Ahhh…yes…yes!”
Randolph guessed she was nude by the nightclothes and slippers strewn on the floor. Sadly, only Megan’s well-turned calves on either side of Devin’s wide hips were visible. If he were to judge by the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, it sounded as if Mrs. Spawn liked it rough, exceedingly rough.
Envisioning th
e delectable Mrs. Spawn on all fours with her vulnerable ass in the air and hairy pussy lips glistening with arousal as her cunt sucked in her husband’s cock, well, the naked image made his cock stiffen to full erection. He wondered about the color and thickness of her cunt hair. Was it golden brown and bushy like the hair upon her head, or was her mound perfectly shaved for fanciful eating?
Randolph grimaced, craning his neck to see if Devin fucked her pussy or throttled that forbidden hole. Many respectable women never attempted such a taboo, let alone derived pleasure from an act some considered debased. If lusty words were an indication, Megan sure as hell enjoyed whatever Devin was doing. What would it be like to have a spirited woman that…
Startled at the strong tug on the back of his jacket, Randolph jerked his head back.
Caleb took a couple of steps backward and waved for him to follow.
Randolph tilted his chin in agreement, and waited until Caleb started down the hall before he turned back to the passionate entanglement.
“Oh, God, I’m coming again…aaaaahhh…” squealed Megan.
Caleb returned to grab Randolph’s arm, dragging him away from the orgasmic scene.
“Shit,” Randolph muttered under his breath. Female erotic cries of release followed him down the hall, along with vivid images of Megan sprawled naked atop the desk.
Neither man spoke until they reached the corner. Every few seconds, Randolph glanced back. Apparently, Devin hadn’t come yet. That male groan of satisfaction he listened for never came. He was dying to go back for another peek when he heard Megan loudly urge Devin to fill her vagina, this time using words no lady dared utter in public.
Randolph nearly came in his pants. Devin, with his overgrown self, had been fucking his petite wife’s rectum the entire time. And Megan, who always looked so pristine and righteous, seemed to love having her ass rammed.
They started down the stairs. Randolph couldn’t keep from inquiring, “Damn, Caleb! Do they do that often?”
“What, have sex? They’re husband and wife, it presents a certain entitlement.”
“I mean fuck in every room of the house. Anyone could walk in on them. They didn’t even have the decency to close the door or retreat to their bedroom.”
Caleb slapped an arm around Randolph’s shoulders and threw his head back in roaring laughter.
“What’s so amusing?” He scowled at his friend.
“You questioning someone’s decorum,” muttered Caleb between chuckles.
“From the look of that bulge, you were as taken as I was.”
Caleb glanced down at his bulging groin then sized up Randolph’s.
“Let’s hop in my carriage. We can be at an obliging friend’s house in minutes. Pick up a few other females along the way and call it a pre-celebration.”
“I thought you were exhausted from traveling.”
“After that display, my strength is restored. Hell, yours should be also. When was the last time you had a female lodged around your male member? As your physician, I’m beginning to worry about your faculties, Mr. Walker.”
“Randy, my nineteen-year-old whoring propensities have met their demise. I don’t need a different woman every night.”
“Good heavens, man, you’re not sixty. Women are too temptingly beautiful. When it comes to carnal scruple, my body and mind are immune. Everything about them, the way they move, walk, their soft voices, perfumed skin, and let us not forget those curves. Ah, yes, and the way they taste…mmmmmm…divine, simply divine. If a man can’t have a different woman every night, he ought to at least have a woman in a different position every night. Women were exclusively made to satisfy men.”
“You in particular,” Caleb said with a mocking grin.
“I’ve never met a woman able to resist.”
Chapter 2
Dressed to seduce, Megan felt a tad ridiculous. How was she to incite passion when all she wanted to do was laugh at her perfect plan to outsmart her devilish husband?
She stood off to the side of the staircase leading from the drawing rooms to the majestic ballroom below, Caleb and Devin at her side. Boston’s elite were in attendance, superbly coiffed puppets on short strings waiting under glittering chandeliers for the dancing to begin.
Due to the well-connected Sinclair family, the fickle world of high society graciously accepted the Spawn household into its realm, where one had to constantly abide by strict rules of propriety when in public. Like an eagle takes to the sky, Megan loved her glamorous new life, mingling with Boston’s wealthiest and most influential families. It was the labyrinth of extreme limitations on one’s behavior she could live without. Oftentimes, it felt like walking on eggshells. Since learning to stroll gracefully in the most stylish shoes and elegant gowns, not once had she paused to consider abandoning her new life for the wilds of the untamed West.
“Ladies’ choice tonight,” reminded Megan, smiling sweetly up at Devin.
“For a married woman who has recently given birth, your dance card is filled as usual.” Devin looked pleased at his initial perusal of her dance card. The more he studied the names, the more his brow creased.
“Partner number four, Henry Montgomery, is a decent chap,” added Caleb, rubbing his chin while he, too, looked over the list of names. A bemused flicker in his eyes hinted to Megan that he seemed to notice the majority of her partners were aged fifty plus.
Henry, a year younger than Caleb, was easy on the eyes. Often, when they danced, he initiated advances of his own accord. Not the direction she proposed tonight.
“I thought more along the lines of Sir Winston.” She feigned innocence, pretending their reaction wasn’t foreseeable.
Her plan to outdo her husband had taken several hours devoted to sneaking a peek at the guest list in advance. An age limit was never discussed, granting her free rein to select from aged victims—correction, mature gentlemen. It took considerable discretion to procure their acceptance once the gents arrived. Benefits of such an endeavor were tremendously twofold. Primarily, her hostess would deem her a saint for dancing with the less-than-desirable guests. Other wives would quietly contain their gratitude for steering clear of their impetuous husbands altogether. She, on the other hand, would enjoy the evening in peace since not one man on her dance card remotely neared the caliber of Randolph Sinclair when it came to looks and charm.
The reaction on Devin’s face to her flirting with a man old enough to be her grandfather would be more entertaining than actually dancing with a younger, more attractive man. The pièce de résistance would be coming up with a new game later in the privacy of their bedroom that might include chocolate and strawberries, perhaps rope and feathers.
“Risk a heart attack,” scoffed Caleb. “The man is ancient. Are you trying to dampen the evening? He’s, what, eighty?”
“Seventy-two, but who’s counting,” she said with a flurry of twinkling lashes. She took Devin’s arm and started down the stairs, Caleb following directly behind them.
“At least choose a fellow who still has blood to stir,” Devin complained with a huff. “Old fart walks with a limp. It seems he has one foot stuck in the dirt already.”
“I swear you two are incorrigible. I do not know what I ever saw in you.”
“Rather, what we put in you that you cannot live without,” Devin said in a low, sexy drawl.
“I agree,” Caleb replied when they reached the bottom of the stairwell, smiling at her in such a way it made her body tingle. “Why else play a flirtatious game, tempt unsuspecting men unmercifully in the presence of their boorish wives, if not to arouse your own deep-rooted desire.”
“Shame on you two. You corrupted me, turned me into a nymphomaniac. Isn’t that how you described me, Caleb, dear?”
“Passionate by nature. We merely liberated your carnal cravings.”
“If you two are finished discussing my inbred inclination toward perversity, this is where we part ways.” She sighed resignedly. “I’ll take my place among the married
ladies, waiting to be summoned by a male escort before being allowed to have any real fun.”
Devin chortled, aware of her need to do as she pleased without restraint.
“Meg, you make it sound tedious. It can’t be that dreadful,” prodded Caleb.
“Please!” she bemoaned. “Try sitting five hours with a bunch of cynical women discussing their ailments—who’s taken to the bottle, unfaithful husbands, and wayward servants. Oh, that reminds me. Have you heard,” she whispered, wagging her finger for them to lean in closer, “Frances Peale’s fifteen-year-old upstairs maid has come up pregnant? Out of so-called respectability, they turned her out cold without references. Mrs. Peale accused the driver. Poor sap has been with them for nearly twenty years without a blemish on his record. Did they dare turn him out on his nose? Of course not. No one knows for sure if it was Mr. Peale or their son. Seems any lady here can tell you the lineage of every illegitimate child born to another’s servant or mistress unless the line leads to their own front door. That’s when the line starts to weave a bit,” she concluded with a smirking nod.
Megan read the underlying meaning in the grinning look passed between Devin and Caleb. “You two know something. Do tell.” She beamed excitedly.
“The lad is fourteen. If junior has the balls to target practice, he had to get the notion somewhere.”
“The old adage ‘Like father, like son’ doesn’t apply,” added Caleb. “I’ve seen the boy. His tender constitution is ill-equipped for such pursuit. Find out the girl’s name. Randy will locate her and place her in a good home. We’ll tend to her medical care as well.”
“I knew it!” Megan exclaimed excitedly. “It had to be Samuel Peale. Shhh, you two, my partner is on his way. I’ll find out what I can about the girl.”
“I’ll be in the card room until Winston is up,” Devin grumbled.
“I’ll join you,” Caleb said, disappointment suddenly lining his gorgeous features at the mention of Sir Winston’s name.
Cruise, Samantha - Devil's Promise: The Garden [The Devil's Playground 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3