Dark Tales 1
Page 8
He came around the car and lifted her against his chest, carrying her into the house. He seemed to relax the moment she was over the threshold.
His kiss was sudden, but the intensity couldn’t be ignored. He definitely wanted her, and that was the best aphrodisiac there was.
She moaned as he pulled her blouse out of the skirt where she had tucked it. He walked with her into the kitchen and bent her over the counter; she inhaled sharply when his tugging freed her shirt and her belly and then breasts touched the icy granite.
He pulled her bra off and tossed it to the floor before he unzipped her skirt. When it hit the floor, she was wearing her panties and her heels. Her panties met their end next.
They were still around her ankles, and it kept her legs together when he thrust into her again from the rear.
He reached under her, and his arms cupped her breasts, kneading and squeezing as he moved inside her.
She grabbed the countertop and held on as he thrust into her while he held her breasts in an arousing grip.
When she started to shake, he increased his pace and she let out a gasping moan while he bellowed into the empty kitchen.
He pulled out of her and kissed his way down her spine. “I have someone here who wants to say hello.”
He lifted her again and carried her to his greenhouse or arboretum. “You made an impression on them, and they wanted to repay you. Ours will be an odd union, but I couldn’t have found you without them.”
He set her on a wooden slab, and vines lovingly came around her limbs, lifting her in the air before she was penetrated anally and vaginally with the vines twisting inside her.
The coils wrapping around her breasts were in a frenzy of excitement, and Sara opened her mouth to call to Oberon for help. The gag slid across her mouth, leaving her holding a sapling between her teeth.
She never agreed to the threesome with a forest.
About the Author
A
fusion of two author names, Viola Masters enjoys frolicking in the dark parts of societal norms where political correctness dares not tread. (Or just goofing around in the grim stuff, take your pick.)
Her stories are a start for your own fantasies to twist the tale to your own purposes. There is a Viola Masters Facebook group if you want to share what you would like to see in further installments.