Mona's Honeymoon Fantasy (Delta of Venus Inc.)

by Vincent, Verena

  Mona leaned back again. Her breast popped wetly from Sam’s mouth and he bent forward as if to follow her breast with his mouth. But Mona gently pushed him back against the lounge. Watching him, she took her other hand and slid it over her curves, pinching one breast on her downward journey and then smoothing her fingertips over the flat of her belly. “You’d touch me like this?” She said as she flicked one finger over her clit. She closed her eyes again as her body seemed to clench around his cock in reaction to that one little caress.

  Without warning, she was suddenly on her back with a very large man between her spread thighs. Her eyes popped open and she was looking up into Sam’s startling blue eyes.

  “There’s only so much a man can take. Now, is playtime over? Or do you want to continue torturing me?” He watched her carefully, waiting to see if she was angry or scared.

  She shook her head. “Torture can be continued later. Right now I’d love it if you fucked me.”

  And he did.

  His thrusts began slow and deep. Mona spread her legs as wide as they would go, loving the feeling of him moving inside and around her. His body moved with powerful grace as he alternated the tempo of his movements, sometimes grinding against her clit and sometimes pausing on the upstroke to drive himself deep, deep, deep into her body. Gradually his thrusts became faster and shallower. Mona found herself bracing her feet against the lounge so she could move in counter-rhythm to his strokes.

  Bracing himself over her with one hand Sam slid the other one down her body until he was able to reach her clit. He rubbed his thumb over it, once, twice and then whispered. “Come, damn it. Let me feel you.”

  She heard herself whimper and then pleasure exploded between her legs. Mona came with a scream as Sam began pounding into her, finally following her over the edge with a roar that must have been heard all over the resort.

  *****

  Several minutes later, Mona was curled up against Sam’s side. Her head was cushioned on one of his corded biceps and she was idly tracing her hand over his flat stomach. A few towels covered them but for the most part they were still completely naked. Sam was dozing but his hand cupped one buttock possessively, even in sleep.

  She could still hear the faint strains of music coming from the wedding reception but no one had entered the pool area. She wondered if Miss Bright had arranged for them to have it to themselves. It wouldn’t really surprise her. Delta of Venus Inc., seemed capable of just about anything, including making her new and improved fantasy come true. Once again, it hadn’t played out as she’d expected but it was still so much better than she’d ever expected. Lying here, with Sam, looking forward to the next few days together and maybe longer, was all she could possibly want.

  Her reality was suddenly looking so much better than any fantasy she could ever imagine.

  THE END

  Also Available from Amazon.com

  Kayla's Cowboy Fantasy

  (Book 1 ~ Delta of Venus Inc.)

  By Verena Vincent

  Chapter One

  “So, what you’re telling me is that I can order a man, just like a pizza?” Kayla Foreman asked with a small frown, raising one slim auburn eyebrow doubtfully at the woman across from her. Usually this particular look caused panic among her subordinates, but it wasn’t having the desired effect today. The current recipient of her Dragon Lady Stare seemed strangely oblivious to her intimidation tactics.

  Kayla couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d been unable to fluster an opponent. She was a firm believer in keeping the upper hand, no matter what. Today, however, she was feeling more like the mouse than the cat for a change. A slither of discomfort slid through her at the thought of giving up even an inch of power to anyone else. Especially this woman who sold sex for a living.

  Trying to appear casual and detached, Kayla crossed her long, silk-clad legs and picked imaginary lint off her tweed skirt as she waited for a response.

  “Not at all,” said the elegant woman sitting behind the large, marble-topped desk. She smiled indulgently at Kayla, and leaned back in her chair for a moment before resuming her rigid upright position. “A pizza has a limited amount of options, and isn’t guaranteed to satisfy you. Our product, however, is only limited by your imagination. And if we somehow fail to live up to your expectations, we will gladly refund your money.”

  Kayla gestured around her at the tastefully opulent office space owned by Delta of Venus Inc. “Miss Bright. I’ve been running my own multi-national sales department for the past six years. Surely you don’t expect me to believe that you can make this kind of profit in this economy without some kind of stipulation to prevent you clients from demanding a refund. Whether they’re satisfied with your product, or not?”

  “I can honestly say that in the eight years this branch has been in operation, we’ve only been asked to issue one refund. And that was due to an ethical dilemma, rather than client dissatisfaction.” Miss Bright frowned at the memory, as if still offended by their imperfect record.

  “Only one? That’s very impressive. What was the dilemma exactly?” Kayla asked, expecting her to decline to answer, or change the subject. She was quite shocked when Miss Bright returned her enquiring gaze directly and answered her with refreshing candor.

  “The client and the Scene Facilitator fell in love. And technically it was not the client who asked for the refund, but the gentleman. He felt it was wrong to take her money once he became personally involved with her, so we respected his wishes and issued a refund.” She shrugged her shoulders and smoothed one hand over her already flawless platinum chignon.

  “You call your hustlers ‘Scene Facilitators?’” Kayla asked with a smile, making air quotes with her fingers at the expression. “Talk about grandiose language. Be honest. Your stable of studs can’t be that much better than what you would find in an upscale brothel. Only the gender of your clientele is different.”

  Instead of appearing offended, Miss Bright seemed amused. She gave a tinkling little laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “Our hustlers? How delightful. Our SFs are a far cry from the street prostitutes you envision. Most of our gentlemen have prominent careers, absolutely none of them are on drugs. And they do this because they want to, not because they have to.”

  “They want to have sex with strange women for money?” Kayla asked doubtfully.

  Miss Bright nodded. “Why wouldn’t they? How many people can say they fulfill fantasies for a living? It’s a dream job for many men. In fact, if you asked any random fellow on the street, I’m positive he would gladly join our ‘stable of studs’ as you so eloquently put it.”

  Kayla crossed her arms and frowned. “But they have no choice. If a flatulent grandma with a goiter bigger than my head hires them, they still have to perform, don’t they? Or do you have Viagra on hand at all times to help out when your boys can’t get lead in their pencils?”

  Miss Bright’s smile widened at Kayla’s expression but she didn’t lose her professional demeanor. “Erectile enhancements are not typically used by our SFs, unless specifically requested by a client. Some women require a man with a great deal of stamina to achieve their release. But artificial means are rarely necessary.”

  Kayla’s eyes widened in disbelief. “They never go soft?” She nearly shouted. “Is this what you’re telling me? No matter what the situation or how weird the request? How is this possible when half the guys out there either can’t get it up, or can’t keep it up?”

  “Half? Really? How interesting. And sad. No wonder our service is so popular. But as I said earlier, erectile dysfunction would certainly be grounds for a refund considering our objective is sexual fantasy fulfillment. And yet it’s never been an issue. But this may be related to our screening process. Not only are all our SFs given thorough physical exams by our licensed medical staff to ensure they are free of disease and in prime physical health. They’re also subjected to comprehensive psych evaluations to ensure that they have the proper attitude towards our cli
ents and their roles.”

  “And what is the proper attitude exactly?”

  “Why, it’s very simple. They must adore and respect women. And feel honored to be providing this very specialized service.”

  “So, they really enjoy doing this?” Was it possible? Kayla’s career required her to be tough and occasionally even ruthless, but she prided herself on being fair. Exploiting another person to meet her needs didn’t fit in with the ethical standards she required of herself and those around her. She had some real reservations regarding the idea of paying for sex. However, if Miss Bright was correct, then maybe some of the shame and guilt could be alleviated and she could actually go ahead with this rather unconventional method of fulfilling her fantasy. She hadn’t been having much luck with traditional methods, so maybe her only alternative was to call in a professional.

  “Of course. In fact, one of our gentlemen once told me that doing this for a living made it difficult to settle for regular sex.”

  Kayla snorted in disbelief. “Really?”

  “Really. The complexity and detail required to fulfill a client’s fantasy made him re-think his entire approach to pleasuring a woman. It’s a stereotype, but it also happens to be true that a man’s fantasy life often extends to the physical attributes of his partner or partners, and maybe the sexual position they assume. If he’s feeling particularly inspired, maybe wardrobe, such as lingerie might play a part. But a woman needs a setting, a story, and some kind of connection to feel safe and aroused. Our SFs provide those things.”

  “Interesting. So this gigolo, he felt he was serving a higher purpose by screwing these women for money?”

  Miss Bright ignored her sarcastic tone. “In a way. Does this make you feel better about proceeding with your registration?” She leaned forward and pulled a red folder towards her. Opening it she scanned the documents within for a moment and then looked expectantly up at Kayla over her stylish rimless glasses.

  Kayla shrugged her shoulders and waved a hand at the folder. “I don’t know. This all seems very strange. Cold, somehow. Choosing a sex partner should be more passionate and personal than making out a grocery list, shouldn’t it?”

  “But you aren’t choosing a sex partner, Miss Foreman. You’re selecting a living sex object. Chosen based on your preferences and 100% willing to participate in a scenario designed by you for your ultimate sexual experience. And that is quite different from selecting a cantaloupe at the market or a sex partner. That term implies that you are on equal footing in deciding how your scene will be played out. In this situation, however, you are all powerful and make all the choices. They are merely enthusiastic props in your fantasy.”

  “Wow, talk about dehumanizing. If they’re just sex objects, then why don’t I save myself the ten grand and just buy some batteries for my vibrator instead?” Kayla knew she was being outrageous, but she really wanted to shake this woman’s icy calm.

  To her credit, Miss Bright didn’t flinch. “Only you can answer that question. Obviously, your personal satisfaction device isn’t providing you with what you need. I’m fairly certain we can come up with a situation that can.”

  “I’m still not sure. Doesn’t this seem fairly extreme? Maybe I should try internet or speed dating first. Isn’t that what women do today when they want a man?”

  “Those methods are all excellent options for someone looking for a mate or even a tryst. You, however, are looking to live out a fantasy. I suppose you could post some kind of tawdry advertisement on the internet.” Miss Bright waved one elegant manicured hand at the stream-lined computer monitor sitting to one side of her desk. “But who knows how long that would take or what kind of individual you might attract. And you still wouldn’t be completely in control. Whoever answered your ad might not want to play by your rules. Besides, those methods really don’t seem consistent with your nature. You’ve become a very successful business woman by employing the most direct and efficient route possible to attain your goals. I really don’t see why this should be any different. Do you?”

  This annoyingly calm woman made an excellent point. Kayla had come from nothing and achieved everything she had ever wanted by the relatively young age of thirty-four. Through determination and hard work she had escaped the mediocrity she had felt was her destiny, and had never let indecisiveness enter her thought process. She was a woman of action and logic, not emotion. Never emotion.

  Unfortunately, one can deny their humanity for only so long. And lately, it had become fairly obvious to Kayla that she needed more than just work to satisfy her. She was lonely, bored and unfulfilled. Not to mention, horny as hell. If she could just live out this one fantasy, the one that had plagued her since she was a teenager, she was convinced that she could move on with her life and maybe pursue some more conventional dating methods. Find someone suitable to share her life with rather than a few sweaty hours attempting, unsuccessfully, to relive the past.

  “Okay. I think I’m ready. Just one more question and then we can get down to the details.” Kayla reached across the desk and tapped the red folder with her own nail-bitten fingertips. “Isn’t this illegal? I mean, you are sort of a pimp, aren’t you? And your ‘Scene Facilitators’ are really just ridiculously expensive hookers, right?”

  This sparked an actual laugh from Miss Bright, and it transformed her face into something lovely, warm, and almost human. “I’ve never actually thought of myself or them in those terms before, but I suppose that would be an accurate description of our elemental roles. And yes, soliciting for sex is illegal. A victimless crime, but a crime nonetheless in the eyes of our misguided legal system. Definitely illegal in Vancouver. In Nevada, however, where all monetary transactions will occur, prostitution is a very common service. So, you will be paying D.O.V. Inc., a consulting fee, and we will simply be providing you with an appointment time and a location where you will meet with one of our representatives for a consultation.”

  Kayla frowned. “I’m going to end up in a cell with Big Bertha Bull-dyke, aren’t I?”

  Miss Bright grinned wickedly. “Only if that’s your fantasy. And believe me we can arrange it. Otherwise, I can assure you that you are perfectly safe from prosecution. Some of our past clients are very powerful and affluent women. And they're diligent in ensuring that our little operation exists under the radar of the legal system. You see, their images would become extremely tarnished if their activities with us became public knowledge. So, really, you have nothing to worry about. Shall we proceed?”

  “I think so. What do you need to know? Everything is there in my application, isn’t it? I’ve checked all the relevant boxes, haven’t I?”

  Miss Bright took a pen and circled something on the page she was looking at. “Not quite. There are still some minor details to determine. For instance, it doesn’t say anything here about condoms. Do you have a preference? Ribbed? Lubricated? I assume Magnum-sized is a requirement?”

  Kayla stared at her for a moment before answering. It was downright disconcerting shifting their discussion from dodging the law straight into penis size. She hoped her scene facilitator was a lot more proficient at foreplay than Miss Bright. “Magnum-sized?”

  “Yes, of course. For the gentleman who is rather generously endowed?”

  “Ummm… let’s check that box. Definitely. But generous for a normal adult human male. Not for a rhinoceros or a sperm whale, right? In case I need to work the next day. I don’t want to be walking funny.”

  This time Miss Bright actually giggled. “Our Scene Facilitators are usually limited to the human race, so no worries regarding adding bestiality to you list of legal transgressions.”

  Kayla couldn’t help it. She gaped in shock. “Seriously? Women actually come to you with fantasies about animals? Wow. My cowboy fantasy must seem ridiculously tame by comparison.”

  “Not at all. Every fantasy is unique and fascinating. And when I refer to limiting our SFs to the human race, I didn’t mean that we would indulge a client who wishes
to engage in intercourse with an animal. That wouldn’t be an option since a non-human could not give consent. We also do not cater to individuals with a taste for children. Not even the pretence. All scenarios are between consenting adults. Though not always completely human consenting adults.”

  Kayla shook her head as if to clear it. “I thought you said no animals?”

  “Well, with the popularity of all those vampire books and movies, we do occasionally stage scenarios with supernatural elements. We have one rather hairy SF who makes a passable werewolf. With some help from our make-up and prosthetics team, of course. And don’t forget alien abductions. Some women find an anal probe quite titillating.”

  “Clearly, I had no idea of the range of services you provide.”

  “We do enjoy a challenge, but most women are just looking to live out something they’ve coveted their whole lives, but haven’t had either the confidence or opportunity to pursue. For some that means experimenting with multiple partners, or individuals from a different race, or gender. For others, like you, it’s a situation that you may have encountered, but which has never been resolved. And you need to experience it to its logical conclusion so you can move on. To exorcise it, if you will.”

  “How did you know that? Maybe I just have a thing for cowboys. Many women do. At least judging by all the romance novels featuring them.”

  “Perhaps. But if that was the case, you would have just asked to simply have carnal relations with a man in a cowboy hat. Maybe some chaps. Instead, you’ve requested a very specific scenario where you, ‘secretly watch a tall, well-built ranch-hand pleasure himself.’ Is this correct?”