Captain Charming (Tales of 1001 Flights)

by Alice May Ball

  I held him in my mouth until he began to fade. Then he pulled me up to him. He looked wonderingly in my eyes as he kissed me with a, long, soulful kiss. A whole body kiss. We entwined like two streams, stroking each other’s hair, smiling, chuckling.

  Monica Chatterton in London-3

  WE SNUGGLED COZILY IN THE ARMCHAIR by the large window, I stretched for a phone and called down for champagne and sandwiches.

  Soon a boy in a smart maroon uniform arrived with a trolley bearing a bottle in an ice bucket, two fluted glasses and a silver tray with a cover. The boy’s eyes twinkled at Adrian as he expertly twisted the cork from the champagne bottle and poured. The golden foam steamed and frothed into the two flutes.

  As the boy left, I saw Adrian’s eyes twinkle back at him. As I passed Arian a flute I said, “I saw you look at the captain that way.”

  Adrian shrank a little but I said, “It’s okay, Adrian, I understand.” I touched his hand, “You’re young. It’s the twenty-first century. You don’t have to worry.”

  Slowly, he said, “It’s true. I’ve always had feelings around boys, just like I have around girls.”

  I said, “Have you ever acted on them?” he smiled and said,

  “About as many times as I have with women.” We laughed and drank champagne. The bottle didn’t last long. I said, “I wonder if the captain would bring us up another?”

  “The… captain?”

  “You haven’t forgotten Captain James, have you?”

  “Captain Bruton, you mean?”

  I watched Adrain’s eyes sparkle and gleam as I lifted the telephone handset. When I was through to the bar I asked if the captain was still at the table by the window, and I was glad to be told that he was. The phone was brought to him, and I asked if he would be so kind as to bring a bottle of champagne up to my suite. All he asked was, “How many glasses?”

  I went into the bathroom to straightened myself up before James Bruton’s arrival. Adrian got nervous. He stood up, then sat back down. Then he unbuttoned his tunic. Then he buttoned it up again. Then he moved to the couch. Then he came back to the chair by the window. He was on his way when a sharp RAP came at the door.

  Adrian hurried to open the door for the captain, then stood very straight as James strode smartly in, deftly holding a bottle and three champagne flutes in one hand. Strong, dextrous fingers, I thought. Single stem red roses stood in two of the flutes. James put the glasses and the bottle on a coffee table, then he brought one of the roses to me. He handed me the stem, saying, “Lovely rose, for a beautiful lady,” and he inclined his head. I felt like Scarlett O’Hara.

  James took the other rose over to Adrian and said, “You’ll bloom too. In time.”

  James said, “Still in uniform, Lance Corporal. Inappropriate for socializing.” Adrian was flustered. “Take it off, man. Tunic, at least.” Adrian said, “Sir,” and began to unbutton his tunic. Underneath it, his deeply-cut wife-beater style undershirt revealed a nicely tanned, beautifully toned, hard torso and arms, rippling and bulging in all the right places. Captain Bruton unbuttoned his own tunic, too, to gradually reveal a more mature frame with lots of curly, dark hair. Very strong and very capable looking.

  When they had removed their tunics, Bruton found a closet with to hang them in. Then he said, “Don’t have to call me ‘Captain’ now, Adrian.”

  “No,” said Adrian, “James.”

  “Much better,” said James. The two men looked at each other, and there was an electricity in the room. James came to open and pour the champagne. “Already had two glasses I see,” he said to me with a smile,

  “When you asked me ‘how many glasses,’ I thought you’d like to know how many drinkers.”

  “Quite right,” and he raised his glass, looking back at Adrian to see that he followed suit, “Fine lady with fine sensibilities,” and I fluttered my eyelids in acceptance of the toast. Bruton sat on the couch and patted the seat by him, “Adrian. Sit. Making the place untidy, standing about. Hovering.” As Adrian settled awkwardly by him, James said to me, “Fine suite. Lady of taste.” And he raised his glass to me again.

  Adrian fingered his glass a little nervously. James said, “Buck up, lad. Make a good show and all that,” and he patted Adrian’s thigh. Then he said, “Wet behind the ears, still?” and he leaned over, put his nose behind Adrian’s ear, and he licked him.

  Adrian’s eyes popped wide, he giggled and curled his head and shoulder together. That made James do it more. “Wet behind the ears now, lad. No mistake.” And James looked devilishly over to me. I was fidgeting, too, wondering what it felt like, being licked behind the ears like that. I couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that to me.

  “Still a boy,” said James, talking to me, “What used to be called a ‘girl.’ Did you know that? Till recently, ‘girl’ meant any child, adolescent or immature. Not sex-specific – sorry, supposed to say, ‘gender specific’ now – not gender specific at all until about the eighteen hundreds.”

  “Oh,” I said, “you call that ‘recently.’”

  He laughed, “Fair enough,” he said, “Interesting though, hm? ‘Girl’ meaning either. Or both.”

  “Or all,” said Adrian,

  “All of the above,” said James, twinkling.

  Adrian said, “All of the below, more like.”

  “See?” James fanned his hand in Adrian’s hair, “Not such a shrinking violet.”

  Adrian’s hand twitched. He was obviously going to muss James’ hair in retaliation, but he bit his lip and thought better of it. James saw that and said, “Still wet behind the ears, though,” and he rubbed Adrian’s ear from behind, folding it over.

  Adrian’s mouth tightened and his eyes sparkled. Then he did muss James’ hair. James grinned fiercely, “Oh, come on, then,” and he reached to flatten both of Adrian’s ears. As he did, he said, “Girl.”

  Adrian reached for James’ head and the two soldiers fell to wrestling, laughing and snarling at the same time. I thought someone should act as referee, so I stood and said, “Now, boys, I want a nice clean fight,” as they rolled from the couch to the floor.

  I said, “And I think you should take off the rest of your uniforms.” They stopped and looked up at me. Then I remembered that, although I had fixed my hair and refreshed my makeup, I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  James’ eyes gleamed and he said, “So that’s your game,” he looked at Adrian, “Lady wants to see the guardsmen wrestle naked.”

  Adrian pulled off his vest, exposing his glistening, downy abs as he said to James, “Make a good show and all that,” and he stood as he began to pull down his zipper.

  The two men crouched, panting, Adrian in his black, silky Calvins, James wearing only his tight white cotton briefs. Their fine bodies were hot, clenched, tense and ready to spring. They circled each other on the thick cream rug.

  I slipped into the bathroom and returned with a bottle of baby oil. James face spread into a predatory grin. “Catch as catch can,” he said then, leering at me, “Tag team, eh? Only fair.” I handed him the bottle.

  As he moistened his skin, rubbing the oil all over, with a filthy leer he said, “Disrobe, madam,” before he handed the bottle to Adrian.

  Adrian massaged the oil onto his arms and his chest, looked at me, looked me up and down breathing hard. With a grin he said, “Only fair.”

  I unbuttoned the front of my dress, slowly. James and Adrian grappled with each other’s oily skin. I left the last three buttons done up, and opened the front of the dress to show my full, creamy breasts heaving at the top of my lovely red French silky bra.

  Adrian and James came to a clinch. They grabbed each other’s buttocks. Hard. Their cocks rubbed against each other, both big, full and straining at the fabric that encased them.

  James spun Adrian around. Now they both faced me. James’s hands ran hadr down Adrian’s chest, his stomach, over his tight, hard, bulging thighs. Then up, over his Calvins. Gripping his hard, fat cock.

  Adr
ian’s eyes closed as James’ hand slipped inside. I opened the last three buttons, revealing the tops of my stockings and my hot, naked mound.

  James pulled Adrian’s cock out and rubbed it, forcefully while his other hand slipped into the back of Adrian’s pants. Adrian’s head rolled and his eyes opened lazily. In their narrow slits, his eyes blazed and shone.

  I shrugged of my dress, slipped the straps of my bra. Unclasped it and pushed my upper arms together, making my breasts swell forward as I let the bra slip off. James pulled out his big, hard, fat cock.

  With his cock pressed against Adrian’s ass, James nibbled Adrian’s ear. Naked now, except my stockings and high-heeled shoes, I stepped in closer. The hot, urgent scent of my weeping sex mingled with the rising scents of the two big men.

  My breasts pressed against the oiled ridges of Adrian’s hard abs, and they heaved against me, squeezing my soft breasts. My nipples rubbed against his damp, hot flesh.

  My hand met James’ on the hard, curved length of Adrian’s oily, throbbing cock. James’s other hand worked into Adrian’s ass, and Adrian moaned. He bent his head to kiss me. Our tongues explored each other and danced a hot tango.

  James’s hand released Adrian’s cock, and slid around my waist then slipped to stroke and caress my ass. He squeezed where my thigh met my buttock. I reached around to feel Adrian’s great, strong buttocks.

  It thrilled me to feel Adrian’s ass under my palm while James’s groin pressed on my knuckles. Adrian’s huge muscle clenched as I gripped it. I found James’ long, hard cock burrowing in the cleft. James’ hand on my ass tightened.

  I sucked on Adrian’s tongue and squeezed my breasts hard against him, and I shuddered, excited by a huge, hot, eager cock in each hand. Two strong, hot young guardsmen, two hard, taut, lean male bodies. I pulled Adrian’s cock tight against my stomach. It almost reached my breasts.

  I looked into Adrian’s dreamy eyes as our mouths released each other, then I watched, thrilled and excited as the two men’s lips trembled towards each other, paused, poised in readiness a their eyes flicked between each other’s eye and mouth and back and fell, then, on each other, with ravenous force.

  As their bodies reached and flowed around their muscular kiss, I ducked down to take Adrian’s cock onto my wet tongue and into my hot mouth. He stiffened between my lips and along my tongue. My cheeks clung to him and his pulse sang through his veins.

  James pushed Adrian roughly to bend forward. I crouched and craned to keep him in my mouth as James prepared to enter him. It was worth it. As James’ cock bored into Adrian’s ass, Adrian’s cock jerked in my mouth, swelling, pulsing and lengthening even more.

  Adrian groaned, moaned and whimpered. James’ sounds were like a jockey, or a boxer. They were rough, demanding and guttural.

  I reached up along Adrian’s thighs, up to James’ cock where it reamed into Adrian’s trembling buttocks. I held the shaft and stroked firmly down to James’ sac. I snaked a finger further, up along the crevice to James’ own tight star.

  I pressed there and heard James growl as I felt him shake in response. I lay back on the couch in front of the two men to watch. My thighs spread apart and my fingers pulled my wet petals wide. My fingers couldn’t keep away from the base of my clit, and the folds around its soaking, hooded cowl.

  My thighs twitched and my pelvis bucked asI watched the sweat gleam and run on James’ hard, pumping body. I watched him impale Adrian, and I watched Adrian’s face drip in the sweet contortions of agonized ecstasy.

  James slapped Adrian’s ass hard, over and over as he pounded him. Then he pulled out. Roughly, he shoved the top of Adrian’s head. Adrain sank to his knees. James growled, “Clean my lance,” and he thrust his cock deep and hard into Adrian’s mouth.

  James clutched Adrian’s head and face fucked him hard. My fingers flew with a frantic force on and around my thickening bud and my widening wet lips. My juices flowed like a waterfall.

  James looked hungrily at me. Breathily he asked, “May I assist at all?”

  My eyes pleaded at him, “Yes. Stop showing me your cock and stick it up me.”

  He jerked his cock out of Adrian’s mouth and stepped to the couch. His big hands scooped me up by my buttocks and he lowered my needy pussy to engage onto his hot, fat cock.

  I gasped as the head filled my opening then I clenched and shook as he burst inside me. He stretched and filled me, slamming harder and further into me.

  I beat my hands on his shoulders and chest. That only spurred him on. His balls slapped against the cheeks of my ass and his pubic hair slammed into mine. I wrapped my arms around his head, pressing his face into my swelling breasts as he pumped and poleaxed me.

  My legs wrapped around him, I took him as far into me as I could and rammed along his fat, throbbing length, faster and faster. I shouted, “Yes, yes, you fucker, FUCK ME!”

  I gushed onto his cock as it pumped a fountain of hot, sticky juice to drench me and fill me. He pumped and pumped and I ground onto him and clenched and squeezed on him.

  I fell back onto the couch and I was still coming as Adrian brought his lovely weapon to my face. I gripped his buttocks as I took him through my hot, wet lips, into my salivating mouth and deep into my throat.

  Adrian pressed my head in encouragement and I felt his cock swell and pulse before it splashed into my throat and filled my mouth. He pushed until my face was buried in the dark, hot sweet sweat of his groin.

  His salty, tangy cum overflowed from my lips and dribbled on my cheeks, down my chin and dripped onto my hot breasts. As my breath heaved and I subsided, James and Adrian bent down to kiss and lick me, like kittens nuzzling their mama.

  Monica Chatterton in London-4

  THE RECEPTIONIST ANSWERED AND SAID, “QUINN, Holden, Farst, good morning.”

  When she heard who I was her voice cooled and she put me straight through. “Mr Quinn?”

  His honeyed tone started a glow in my panties, “Marston, please Mrs Chatterton.”

  “Marston. I’m calling to tell you personally that I’m withdrawing my legal business from your firm.”

  “Really, Mrs Chatterton?”

  “Yes, Marston, I no longer want to be your client.”

  “I see.”

  “You have the whole weekend to persuade me to transfer my business back on Monday.”

  “I see…”

  “See what you can think of that might induce me,” I told him.

  Then I took in some shops and had my hair done, ready to meet Marston for dinner.

  © Alice May Ball, TzR Publishing, 2015

  © ALICE MAY BALL TZR PUBLISHING, 2015-2016

  2nd Edition (formerly titled Royal Brit Bastard)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events is purely coincidental.

  All the people portrayed in this story are over the age of eighteen, and entirely imaginary. If you think that you know some of them, or that you may be one of them, then you should consider writing fiction yourself.

  Cover Design by Signs of Desire for TzR Publishing

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