by Robin Gideon
There were five initial contractions, each so powerful that Diana was quite convinced they could break bones. The four orgasmic spasms that followed the initial ones were not nearly so convulsive, though the pleasure they provided could not be lightly discounted.
“S–stop…please,” Diana said, her body and soul sapped of all strength and energy when the last waves of emotion had gone through her. “I can’t take any more.”
It seemed as though someone had suddenly taken all the power out of her muscles. She breathed in and out deeply, her body tingling as it cooled rapidly from the red-hot condition it had been in only moments earlier.
“These,” she heard William say with an angry edge to his voice, “have been in my way too goddamned long.”
A moment later she felt the cotton bite into the flesh of her hips then heard the ripping sound of fabric giving way to much greater masculine force.
No man has ever ripped panties off me.
The reality of a gorgeous man tearing off her panties was so evocative that she very nearly climaxed once again.
Her reaction was unexpected, and she was glad that she hadn’t had another orgasm. It would have been embarrassing. It seemed to her to be more than a little libidinous to have such a quick draw on the orgasmic trigger-finger.
She didn’t want the deVille brothers to know just how sexually susceptible she was to their masculine domination. Even she herself didn’t fully understand it and was only now beginning to know that it existed within her soul, and she still didn’t want them to know.
But its existence couldn’t be denied. It was there, whether or not Diana wanted it.
“So beautiful,” William whispered, his fingertips trailing lightly up one inner thigh then down the other, his gaze locked onto the lips of her pussy.
She wanted to put a hand between her legs to block his view, but Marcus continued to hold both her wrists above her head in just one of his hands. She felt vulnerable and terribly exposed—and very much like a pagan goddess, adored and revered…and lusted after more completely than any woman in history.
“I shouldn’t,” Diana said then had to moisten her lips before she could continue speaking, “feel this good. This is so wrong on so many different levels. I can’t even begin to tell you.”
“Give us time,” William said, looking up at her, his lips and chin glistening in the sunlight with the evidence of her passionate arousal. “We’ll convince you otherwise.”
Diana was surprised. “You’ve done this before?” It was almost an exclamation.
William shook his head. When Diana looked up at Marcus, who continued to hold her wrists together securely, he also shook his head in negation.
“You’re a first for us,” Marcus said.
“And with any luck at all,” William added, “the last.” He licked the inside of her thigh, coming close but not quite touching the lips of her pussy. “It’s either because you’re completely refusing to take money from us, or maybe it’s just because you’re so damned delicious.”
Diana had intended on giving him a witty rejoinder, but when William’s tongue eased once more between the hypersensitive lips of her pussy, then made its way leisurely upward to her clit, words and refutations and all verbal communication of that nature became both superfluous and impossible.
She felt William ease a single finger between the lips of her pussy and then a second, all while continuing to use his lips and tongue with devastating effect upon her clit. She felt a second climax approaching with the approximate speed of an Air Force fighter jet in full attack mode.
She looked into Marcus’s eyes, so near her own, and asked in an oddly calm voice, “You’re sure you two have never done this to a single girl before?”
It was hard to believe they hadn’t rehearsed this performance. It seemed choreographed to perfection.
He shook his head and said, “Never. You’re the first. But you’re such wonderful inspiration.”
His words were the last stimulation, and the most forceful since it was entirely intellectual, that Diana needed. She uttered an obscene word and arched her back, thrusting her pussy firmly against William’s mouth as she climaxed once again that afternoon.
She shouted, but this time Marcus didn’t have a chance to put his palm over her mouth to quiet her. She knew that sound traveled extraordinarily well over water.
How many people just heard me come?
The unspoken question brought a dreamy smile to her lips.
* * * *
Diana blinked her eyes several times then closed them. She was trying to clear her mind, trying to make some coherent sense out of what she had just done.
I’ve just had some of the most powerful climaxes of my entire life. I was afraid my skin was going to burst into flames.
That reality should have been enough for her to throw her head back and issue a joyful belly laugh that came straight from the soul. But it didn’t. There was still enough of “Daddy’s good little girl” in her to have at least some semblance of regret and guilt for what she had allowed to happen.
And she had no doubts that she’d allowed it. Yes, William had held her by the ankles, and Marcus had held her wrists above her head in just one of his imprisoning hands. Like barbarians, they had ripped her panties off her…but wasn’t that exactly what she had hoped they’d do?
Diana knew it was. She knew it deep down in her soul, but she couldn’t admit it, either to the men now holding her “captive” or to herself. The events would have to stay, at least for now, her little secret.
She could feel the sun, warm and pleasant, on her face. She kept her eyes closed. Diana was enjoying a post-orgasmic world of unutterable bliss, and she didn’t want anything to disturb it.
She remained half reclining in Marcus’s lap, her hands still above her head, her wrists still one over the other with a strong, masculine hand surrounding them. William remained leaning on the seat cushion, his shoulders between her thighs, his handsome face just inches from her sex. Diana was certain he could still smell the essence of her excitement. If she kissed him, she’d probably taste her own juices on his lips.
A sultry smile curled the corners of her mouth. There was something very liberating about knowing that an incredibly handsome young man, at that very moment, had lips that glistened with the juices of her pussy.
What would it be like to have William go down on me whenever I wanted him to?
The question itself conjured a certain sense of permanence, and Diana cautioned herself against thinking such things. Today was today, but tomorrow could be an entirely different world.
“Catch your breath?” William asked.
She looked down at him. Never before had he looked quite so roguishly charming as he did just then with his gorgeous face between her legs, his cheek against her thigh. His gaze was locked onto hers when his pink tongue snaked out between his lips and he licked the inside of her thigh, just scant inches from her pussy.
Her view of the erotic things that were happening below her waist was suddenly blocked by Marcus’s free hand. He squeezed her breast through the cup of her bra then, with practiced ease, slipped the cup beneath the plump mound.
“Heavenly,” he said.
Diana watched as he dipped his head, licked her nipple briefly, then opened his mouth wide and captured all of her nipple and much of her areola between his lips.
“Oh God!” Diana said, arching her spine to press her breast more firmly, more completely, into Marcus’s mouth. She was vaguely aware that she was repeating herself, but under the deliriously disorienting circumstances, they seemed to be the only words her lust-constricted throat could construct.
They must have done this with a woman before. Their movements are too coordinated, too precise, too…erotic. This can’t just be an accident.
She would have thought more, but as Marcus ravished her other breast and began feasting upon its bounty, William slipped a single finger inside Diana’s pussy then curled it so that he c
ould tenderly caress the front wall of her cunt while, at the same time, sucking lovingly on her still-tingling clit.
Marcus had his hand over Diana’s mouth when she let out her orgasmic scream. Had he not muffled her with a firm, broad-palmed hand over her mouth, she would probably have been heard throughout Nouveau Paradis and even New Orleans.
It had been one hell of an orgasm.
Chapter 6
Diana kept her eyes closed as her heart rate slowed to something akin to a normal pace. She had just experienced not one but multiple powerful climaxes. Best of all, she hadn’t caused them herself. Men had caused them. Really gorgeous, handsome men—twins, no less—who understood a woman’s body and what to do with it to give her pleasure.
And she was still in their thrall, still in their grasp, still under their command.
It doesn’t get any fucking better than this. Oops, I shouldn’t use that word.
She wanted to cover herself. Her sundress, a pleasant light blue cotton affair that under any circumstances would be considered modest and appropriate in Nouveau Paradis or anywhere else where civilized people congregated, was bunched up to her stomach. Her panties, having gotten in the way of William’s wishes, had been ripped from her hips. Diana wasn’t certain where they were, though she was quite certain their condition was irreparable. The force and vehemence with which William had ripped them off her suggested damage long beyond the saving grace of a skilled seamstress using needle and thread.
And, of course, there was the little fact that her dress was completely unbuttoned right down to the slender belt she wore and that the cups of her bra—which had, at one time, been a matching set to the panties that were now ruined beyond repair and cast aside God-only-knows-where—had been expertly tucked beneath her breasts to expose them to lustful stares, hungry kisses, and magnificently skillful caresses.
All of which Diana thoroughly enjoyed…and would adamantly deny.
“Oh God,” Diana said then promised herself that she’d never say those words in unison ever again for the rest of her life. Or at least for today. She was starting to seriously doubt her ability to make promises to herself. “Can I just lie here forever and ever and not be disturbed? Honestly…every bit of my body has turned to jelly because of you men.”
Several seconds passed, and Diana thought the brothers might just let her fall asleep in their arms. As sensually exhausted as she was, despite the indecorous nature of her current posture, she could quite easily fall asleep. She was in the arms of one man while her legs surrounded his twin, all while drifting lazily down the Eau Claire River at a pace no faster than a gentleman’s leisurely walking stride.
“You realize, of course,” Diana said quietly, “that I’ve never done anything even remotely like this in my life.”
“Neither have we,” William said, shifting positions so that his cheek was no longer pressed against Diana’s naked thigh and his mouth was no longer just inches from her most intimate area. “And that’s what makes it so special.”
He rose to his knees on the white, padded bench seat of the pontoon boat, and the breath caught in Diana’s throat. Somewhere during the time that he had been pleasuring her with a sensual skill that she could only consider nothing less than incomparable, he had lowered his shorts and his boxers, freeing an erection that was fully formed, throbbing with virility, handsome to look at, and generous in both length and thickness.
Diana took one look at it and her mouth began to water. It had been a long time since she’d tasted a cock, and she’d never had one like that pressing her tongue to the bottom of her mouth. Just the thought of giving him a blowjob made her shiver. It was an unprecedented sensation for her.
“Oh,” she said, at least moderately pleased with herself that she’d managed to omit the names of any deities. She did, however, embarrass herself by adding, “Fuck, that’s big.”
I shouldn’t have said that. Men like him damned sure don’t need an ego boost.
William’s reaction was typical of a man who had heard such comments before, expected to hear them again, and, in any event, gave them little consideration. The thirtieth time a man has heard the same compliment the words lacked a little zing.
William looked at his brother then said in a stern, alpha voice, “Grab her wrists again. Hold her tight. Very tight.”
A frisson of fear went through Diana. The tone of William’s voice was different from what it had been earlier. There was a dominance to it now, an authority that said “I’m the man in charge” without having to explain it. She felt Marcus’s hand tighten around her wrists. He pulled her arms a little straighter over her head.
Diana’s head and shoulders were in Marcus’s lap. Her dress was unbuttoned and her bra lowered beneath her breasts. Her panties had been removed from her in a manner than would make a Viking supremely pleased with himself. The hem of her sundress was up to her stomach, which made what she considered her most private area pretty much public.
A scream for help, right now, and at full volume, is in order.
“Kiss me before you fuck me,” she said quietly, her words wildly disconnected from the thoughts going through her brain. “I want your tongue in my mouth when I feel your cock slide inside me.”
Those were not the words she had intended to speak. Not even close. They did, however, convey her true emotions rather nicely because William’s tongue was indeed in Diana’s mouth and dancing with her own when his cock—long, thick, and having the approximate tensile strength of casehardened steel—plunged full-length into the slick, hungry, ever-so-willing confines of Diana’s pussy and began yet another orgasm that she thought would never end.
She nearly lost consciousness. Maybe she had. She couldn’t at that moment be certain of anything other than these two men could turn her on in ways and degrees that she’d never thought possible.
Despite all of her gyrations, William never stopped his undulations. He never even broke rhythm. Diana turned her face aside to end the kiss and heard the breath gushing from her lungs each time William’s torso collided with hers and his powerful chest compressed her lungs. She heard the nasty, faintly obscene slap of naked torso against naked torso as he fucked her with a kind of wild abandon that was nowhere near the borderline of gentlemanly conduct.
Her climax—she couldn’t remember if it was her fourth or fifth—came upon Diana with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer smashing an unopened bottle of warm champagne. Those things don’t just break. They fucking explode.
He’s going to fuck me to death.
It wasn’t the happiest thought she’d ever had while having sex, though it was probably entirely in sync with her current emotional state. These men had, after all, taken her to an emotional place she’d never before experienced or even knew existed.
If he doesn’t come soon, I’ll die.
She was now descending from the heights of her orgasm, so she knew that last thought was an exaggeration. Not necessarily a lie, but certainly hyperbole, she told herself.
What she also knew was that she couldn’t last much longer. She’d been retired from the game of sex for quite a while, and her sudden and unanticipated reintroduction to the game came without her favorite sex assistant—AstroGlide.
William growled, thrust full-length one last time into Diana’s sweet, warm embrace, then withdrew completely.
His hips continued to churn. She nearly came again and probably would have had William not escaped her vaginal embrace. Hot thick, creamy streams of cum suddenly shot from him, leaving lines of the gooey passion from her chin, over her exposed breasts, matting with her bunched-up dress, then warming Diana’s hairless, freshly waxed pubis. Even though it had been a long time since anyone who could be called a lover had seen her pussy, Diana was pleased she’d kept herself neat and tidy, and that she looked her best for the twins.
Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for not coming inside me!
She hadn’t told William to not come inside her, but he’d sho
wn the decency and good sense to do what was right without having to be told as much. Her estimation of him as a man went up.
When her wrists were released, Diana touched her cheek. There was cum there. It was thick as hand cream. And gooey. She looked down at her body, astonished at the amount of semen she had on her from pelvis to chin. She’d never before had cum on her face, and she wasn’t entirely certain what she thought of it now. Still, it had seemed more an act of exuberance than intention.
He could have killed me if he’d come inside me. His cum had the speed of a bullet.
She almost smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt cum cooling on her skin. The rarity of the experience appealed to her somewhat…though this was a reality that was hard to wrap her arms around.
There seemed to be semen everywhere, and though Diana was eternally grateful that William hadn’t come inside her, the sensation of semen cooling on her skin wasn’t a pleasant one. Especially not on her cheek. She’d never let anyone come on her face. Ever. But William had shown the decency to not come inside her without getting permission first. Hitting her face had been an accident.
“Sorry,” William said, pulling his polo shirt away from his body to wipe cum from Diana’s cheek. “I guess I was a little more inspired than I thought I would be.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, albeit an astonishingly clumsily phrased one.”
He couldn’t have said anything more perfect. Every word could be etched in gold and put on a plaque.
William gave her a smile as he leaned back, sitting on his heels. His cock, Diana noted, had lost almost none of its rigidity. He shimmered with a combination of his juices and her own.
“My darling”—Diana’s heart did a cartwheel. He’d never called her “darling” before—“you are one of a kind. You’re the first of everything.”
Despite the indelicacy of her posture, and of all the things that she’d just done, Diana found herself on the verge of tears because men like William simply didn’t say things like that to women like her. They found clever and effective lies to say, but they didn’t tell the truth…and looking into William’s eyes, she knew he was speaking from his heart. He wasn’t regurgitating some practiced line that he’d used a hundred times with a hundred silly girls who were naive enough to believe the twaddle that spewed out of the mouths of rich men.