Chapter four
What had started as my version of a Hail Marianne had turned into something even more. It was revealing and I didn’t have it in me to make him a public spectacle in this way. I still had a good story about his childhood, but I was going to leave out some of the pertinent details. The mood had changed. I got up and I turned to walk away, only to have him grab my wrist.
He kissed me in a feverish passion that was unlike anything that I had felt before. This guy was a consummate lover and he was not going to let me go that easily. “I hope that I can rely on your discretion, Marianne. I shouldn’t have said anything and those records are sealed for a reason. If you are going to say anything, then I will deny it, until the day I die.” He didn’t have to worry about that. He took my hand and placed it over his cock and suddenly I was back on that bench giving him an oral exploration.
My lipstick smeared along him, as I marked my territory. I enjoyed the crimson color combined with his chocolate snake. His brown skin was darker than my own, making him a true African transplant from where my race originated. He was black as night and had these very seductive eyes that made me want to commit every sin in the book with him.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck your face. You caught me in a vulnerable position.” He was pushing his knob into my throat. I had no gag reflex and I think the gasp that I heard from his lips was his way of proclaiming how good I really was. “My cock has never felt this good. My fiancée could take some lessons from you and maybe I should have you over for dinner and see what happens. I think that after a few glasses of wine, we can loosen up her inhibitions and see if we can’t get that stick out of her ass.” He was obviously saying that she was conventional and a little too vanilla for his liking. I didn’t have any problem showing the girl that variety could be the spice of life.
He finally had enough, grabbing my hair and pulling my face away from him, so that he wouldn’t go off in my mouth. I didn’t know how I was supposed to walk away from something like this, but apparently he wasn’t going to allow that to happen. He lifted me easily into the air, so that my pussy was now right there for the taking.
“I’ve been sitting around for a long time waiting for you to come to your senses. I thought that it might be time to move on with somebody else. I’ve had time to think it through and I thought that maybe you were too good for me.” I could feel something inside me begging for his cock and then he was preparing to give it to me. “This is a dream come true. This is something that I will never talk about. Whatever we do behind closed doors is our…BUSINESSSSSSS.” I screamed, as he gave in to that desire with one long stroke that had me practically at a loss for words.
“I’ve always had a fantasy of doing you in the locker room. I’m sure that a lot of guys that have been interviewed by you have had that same fantasy. I just don’t think that a lot of them have been able to make it a reality.” What he didn’t know was that none of these players had gotten close to me in that way. I always got my thrill from those at the club, but this was the ultimate way to break through those barriers.
He was balls deep and those heavy grapefruits were full to overflowing with a goodness that I wanted to feel for myself. “Xavier, you are all man and there’s no way that anyone could hold a candle to you. There’s nothing that I would have done any differently. God damn…your fucking cock is something that a lot of girls have craved and I’m the one that is getting it good.” I was riding him hard and fast, which of course made him fall backward against the locker with his hands up underneath my ass to keep me in place. The slickness of my hole was now caressing the entire length of him, pulling him into my embrace and making him mine. He wasn’t going to pull away without finishing what he started.
“You are unlike any other woman that I’ve met in my life. My fiancée was the woman of my dreams, but now I’m thinking that there might be somebody else. Your body and your lust for life is something that I have been lacking in my life. I’m through bending to conventional thinking. I’m only marrying her because of perception. Yes…take it all… take my black cock you nasty little whore.” I loved the way that he talked to me and maybe I didn’t have to teach his fiancée anything. I wanted him for myself and he had just admitted that I was the one that had made him look at things differently.
“Give me your seed… Give me your seed…fucking cream into my hole. Take me you nasty bastard.” We were made for each other and then I felt myself squeezing down on him and then throwing my head back in obvious enjoyment. I came with an intensity that burned through me. I took him into his own pleasure.
“You fucking take that cream bitch…you’ve got it…you fucking got it…YESS.” He was the little engine that could and then suddenly I was feeling the hot essence shooting up into me. I glanced down to see that my own sticky sauce had now stuck to him and made us more than casual acquaintances. He finally came to the end of his rope, pulling free and then sitting back down with his hands holding onto my legs and placing his face against my stomach.
“I don’t think that I’ve ever been more satisfied with a man or woman for that matter. You really outdid yourself and I doubt that anybody will be able to measure up after that. Perhaps we should think about making this a long-term arrangement that will benefit us both greatly.” He looked up and smiled and I had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be his dirty little secret.
I married that man, after he broke off the engagement with his fiancée, and then I found out that I was going to bring his legacy into this world. There was nothing that was predictable about our relationship. Whether it was a new sex toy, some new position, or even something that would make tongues wag, there was nothing that we wouldn’t do for a cheap thrill. I loved that he had an open mind and was willing to look beyond what most people considered normal. We found new ways of turning each other on, including bringing his old fiancée into our bed…but that’s for another story.
THE END
Taken by the Forbidden Highlander
I
Daytime was always brisk in the highlands of Scotland. Especially near the mountains, where every first whiff of a frosty morning hit you like a snowball in the face. This morning in particular was biting, the coldest of the year so far and it seemed as if the air itself was full of savagery.
The mountains were snowy and the air was cold. Angus Artair surveyed the land, tired from a long walk and ready to spend the night in a nice spot. Probably not a man’s house, given his stranger status around these parts, but maybe under a tree or near an open cave. He was a large man, muscular and long-haired with fiery shades of red. He looked like he was in his thirties, though heaven knows the man never looked his age. His ruddy complexion was complemented by his bulky clothing. Animal fur, with a thick leather belt and an armored bracelet on his forearm. All he carried with him was a sword. It was all he needed because life as he knew it wasn’t conducive to settling down.
Just as he went to explore a nearby valley, he was alarmed at the presence of another person approaching in the distance. A child, he thought at first, until he realized the taller stature. It was a woman. She had curly hair and a clean face, walking affectedly, carrying a heavy bag up the hill.
She noticed him staring and dropped the bag, doing a double take and wondering what his next move might be. She was dressed in rags, wearing only a purple scarf on her neck to guard her from the cold.
Artair didn’t react. To show fear and run away would no doubt provoke the nearby village. To run at her or shout pleasantries could be misconstrued as any number of offenses. At this point, staring was really the only option.
He nodded her way as she slowly walked forward to speak.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, sporting an unfriendly look on her face.
“Hadn’t any plans of it, woman. Just stopping for a breather. I take it your village isn’t offering any hospitalities. So I suppose I’ll just look for a cave.”
“I think it best you keep on going and hope
we don’t decide to kill you where you stand.”
Artair scoffed and shook his head. “Aye. I’m shaking in me boots.”
“I’m a married woman, stranger. Don’t be fancying me or getting any ideas.”
“First of all, no. I don’t reckon you’re my type at all. But number two, if I were an evil man I’d have already raided your village and taken all the lovely women I wanted. That’s how it works up here in these parts. That’s probably why you’re so afraid. And you have every right to be. Next time though, send a man out to intimidate a warrior. You’re embarrassing ye-selves. Eh?”
“Blether on straight to Hell!” the woman screeched, waving her arms and causing a fuss. Artair laughed and took his time walking away. She barked like a dog and scared him about as much as any mutt. He actually pitied a village that would be so careless as to send a woman so dangerously close to the top of the mountain where any unwholesome fellow might decide to walk.
But just as Artair decided he ought to cross the river and head into new territory, he felt a strange sensation buzzing in his head. A sense of madness and mania, a war cry in his heart. The taunting of an invisible man and thumping sensation in his head. It was the only fit way to describe it when someone else was near.
Someone else was in the vicinity and indeed the Game had just begun. Another one like him, a highlander, in his prime. And once he met that man all hell would break loose, as was the rule. But no, he didn’t sense anything coming from the wee little village below. The woman was probably the most courageous of any of them. Maybe the other immortal was waiting eastward in the great wilderness.
Probably the case. But for now, Artair had traveled enough. It was time to sleep and eat and maybe pick up the great walk later that night. Poor Bristol, his late horse. The adventure sure was a lot more fun when his mare accompanied him. He died like a warrior stallion all right, helping his master kill twenty stupid pirates that tempted fate, thinking they could overpower one of him.
No contest at all. The only regret Artair had, he thought as he gripped his sword and flared his nostrils, was that he couldn’t kill those cowardly bastards all over again.
Poor Nessia though, she was scandalized for the rest of the day after her chance encounter with a wandering brute. She reported the news back to the village but by the time they sent their spies out, he had disappeared in the forest.
His statements were alarming. That if he were another type of man he would just go and raid the village and take whatever women he wanted. A strange thing to say, and a discomfiting thought entirely. Yes, of course there were men that way but surely not in the peaceful province of Estandia?
William her husband was half-asleep inside their small cottage. It was a modest place, surely falling apart every which way, but a quaint abode nonetheless. The thought of losing it cast a shadow on the rest of the night.
“Do you think we should be worried, love?”
“Eh?” William replied, drunk as always and half asleep. “Are you still talking about that drifter?”
“The way he said it. It seemed like an omen of sorts.”
“Shut your geggie, woman. If you drag that bastard into one more conversation tonight me head’s going to explode. Did you fuck him?”
“No, don’t be foolish.”
“Did you think about fucking him?”
“I…of course not! Why are you putting all sorts of ideas in me head?”
“Because I know the way females think,” he said, stumbling up out of bed and walking around looking for another drink.
“All you ever want to do is fuck another man. No matter how hard I work for ye. Try hard to give ye a baby. None of it be good enough, right? You’d rather ride the cock of a stranger.”
“You’re talking madness!”
“I fucking hate you, Nessie. You slut. You foul-smelling bitch.”
“William, stop!”
“Are you telling me what to do? Am I your slave then?”
“No…” she said shyly, staring into his vacant eyes, fearing for her life. Again. If it wasn’t the threat of marauders it was William again. Always drinking. Always screaming about the sex he didn’t even want. She had to accept that one way or another, she was going to die. Probably in screaming pain at the hands of some barbarian. Either one who “loved” her or another man who just admitted he wanted a shag. The old romantic life her father dreamt for her years ago was surely a waste.
Marriage ruined her. Poverty ruined everybody.
“William, you’re hurting me,” she cried softly, as William grabbed her by the forearm.
“You can’t fool me, witch. I know the way you are.”
“I know that you’re drunk.”
“Riiight,” he said with an out of place laugh. “My drunkenness is the problem. The fact that I’m drunk invalidates everything I say. I’m drunk…I’m the problem!”
Nessie stared at him and he tightened his brow. Whenever he got like this, there was no right answer. All a woman could do was stare him down like a storm and hope it ended with him passing out on the bed.
“Well it ain’t helping,” she finally said. “Sometimes, William, when you speak to me like this…it makes me feel worse than any pirate raid ever could.”
William remained silent, absorbing her statement like a body blow.
“I just wish we could go back to the way things were.”
“Doesn’t everybody!” he said, right before he bashed in the table and lamp next to the bed with his shaking hands. “Why? Does that drifter remind you of me? When I was young? The way things were?
“Get out of here with your crazy accusations. Please let’s talk about something else.”
“No.” He stood up and walked towards her, backing her against the wall. “I want you to fuck him in front of me. I want to watch while you betray me.”
“William, please! You’re talking mad.”
“I just want honesty out of you. For once, you mangy cunt. For once in your life tell the truth. Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that you want to leave me and run off with some young handsome fellow. We both know it’s true. So just say it.”
“I’ll do no such thing. You…angry, sad little man.”
She stared him down, tightening her brow as she looked into his destitute eyes. She braced herself for another punch.
Then William smiled. “You just described yourself, you know. Except for the man part.”
She shut her eyes in relief. Apparently, this was one of his good drunken phases where he just talked shit and then fell asleep in his own filth.
“Right then. I forgive you, muh’ lady.”
“Lucky me.”
“Just suck my cock and we’ll call it a night, yeah?”
Nessie sighed. Of course her heart wouldn’t be into it, but that never mattered. A forced sucking always hurt less than a slap to the face, William made sure of that. Honestly, she thought, hating the taste of her old shit of a husband, a raid wouldn’t be the worst of things…provided they had the decency to kill her afterwards.
**
II
Artair awoke from a bed of leaves. The day felt breezy and cool as always but the lack of a draft certainly alarmed him. He looked up into the open blue sky and sensed something was dreadfully wrong. It wasn’t the madness of the Game calling to him, but still an ominous feeling that he couldn’t shake. He looked around the forest to his left side, seeing nothing of interest.
However, as he stood up and looked over to his right he saw the source of his discomfort. A band of warriors, a raid, not by pirates this time but by armored men from England. They were staring at Artair, showing their broken teethy smiles and holding their weapons strong, ready to kill him at a moment’s notice.
Artair looked down to the ground, realizing his sword was a few feet away. A lunge for the weapon would give his enemy time to shoot an arrow into him or spear him. Not that such a wound could kill him, but it was still require a few hours of healing. Certainly enough time
to slow down his onward trek. And it probably would hinder him in battle against the other highlander, wherever that arsehole was lurking.
“Well, well,” the leader said, taking a forward sprint on his horse and holding a pole axe in hand. “It looks like we woke you up from your beauty sleep.”
“Ah,” Artair said, laughing quietly. He wasn’t afraid of them and the band of marauders could see that, which only made them more cautious.
“Why are you smiling, fool? This could be the end of your life.”
Artair calmly turned his head side to side estimating how many horses and men there were in front of him. At least forty, with ten or twenty horses. They had plenty of weapons and certainly enough blades to take his head off—if he let them, of course.
But his instinct reminded him that maybe this was a fight he didn’t need under his belt. Pick and choose your battles, his mentor always said. The best way to remain undefeated was to forfeit the battles you know you might lose. Good advice, he said, nodding to himself and swallowing some pride.
“Tell me who you are, homeless man.”
“I will. But I want your name first.”
Some in the group laughed at his audacity. The leader looked provoked and stepped off his horse, a bit mad in the face. “Well, well. Quite the balls you have on ye, if you’re telling me what’s what. The man with the weapon.”
He walked up to Artair and grinned in his face. Artair stood strong, silent. If the man stabbed him in the gut, he would reveal himself and be forced to kill every last one. Or die trying, and eventually losing his head, as was usually the highlander’s life.
ROMANCE: Stolen by the Alien Lord (BBW Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (Contemporary Science Fiction Paranormal Short Stories) Page 163