Darkest Fantasies

by Raines, Kimberley

  He lay tense, staring into the darkness, not knowing how to react. Esther's caresses became more urgent, her nipping teeth more painful, and then her body was writhing against his. His breath began to shorten, need becoming a driving force that stole every ounce of willpower he had left. Somehow she had moved so his hand lay between her legs, and as she moved his fingers began to toy with the wetness he unexpectedly discovered there. She groaned, and this time he heard it as a low sound of animal need.

  He began to move, but abruptly Esther's hand pressed his shoulder back to the bed, and she slid herself on top of him. Esther on top? He stared up, seeing just the outline of her above him, the bulbous mass of her breasts, the frizz of her short hair. For a second he had a sense of deja vu; he had seen this alluring image before - but where?

  Then she bent down, brushed his lips with hers, and began to kiss him.

  Quite when his shock turned to pure lust he was not sure, but within moments his rampant cock was up inside her, and she was riding him with an enthusiasm which made him forget who she was and where he was. It could have been anyone, anywhere - he just needed to come so badly it hurt. He grabbed her shoulders and used his strength to move her more quickly up and down his shaft until it became a vibrant volcano that suddenly erupted. She sat still on him while his spasms died, until his breath returned, and he knew she was staring down at him in the darkness. He opened his mouth to speak, but she put a fingertip to his lips.

  'Don't spoil it,' she whispered. 'Don't apologise.'

  Chapter 7

  Kevin walked in a different kind of euphoria for a few days, and couldn't really understand it himself. After the business evening he had shocked himself not only by taking Esther in the hallway, but by the sheer ferocity of that coupling. To his mind he had betrayed a side of him that it was better she did not know. What on earth had he been thinking of?

  Yet what had happened later had been even more incomprehensible. Esther must have had a mild breakdown, or something, because of his actions. He knew one thing with certainty: it mustn't happen again. He realised the only way to rid himself of this awful compulsion for sex was to go out and get another girl as soon as possible. The more he thought about it, the more acceptable an answer it seemed to be. If he didn't get his quota of sexual fixes he knew he would go mad or attack Esther again, and he was terribly afraid that if he did so, he might shock her to the extent she would leave him. Despite his infidelities, he didn't want that.

  When the new temp, Louise, had first begun to make interested eyes towards him he had been a bit standoffish, revelling in the renewal of marital bliss. But things had changed. She was not his usual type; dressed like a punk in black torn clothes, with her bright orange hair and overpowering make-up, but she did have a bubbly and outgoing nature. And she had quite a set of knockers, too.

  After a little bit of judicious questioning, he discovered his firm had only employed her because the agency had not been entirely honest about her appearance. Not that he found it unattractive; in its own way the overtly unfeminine garb was quite a turn-on, even though it was not what his preconceived ideas of women were all about. Yet the more he looked at her, and the more she gave back that sly little grin of awareness, the more attractive she seemed to become. He found her open lack of respect for gender convention faintly off-putting yet, at the same time, strangely compelling. She was available, she clearly found him attractive and was making no effort to hide her feelings, and it didn't take him long to wonder what kind of person she was under all that make-up, and whether she was really as open about sex as he thought she might be.

  Once he began to imagine her without clothes on, it took even less time for him to make the mental jump to actually figuring out how he was going to work it. With a confident smile he realised he was back on track. He preened inwardly; Kevin the stud was going to break another ride.

  It took a couple of days of insinuations and a couple more of adventurous groping before Kevin finally took the plunge. Accidentally bumping into her on the way out to the car park, he put on his best charming smile. 'I can't help noticing you're a really attractive young lady, Louise,' he gushed.

  She gave him a sidelong glance. 'I know what you've been noticing, mate, and there are two of 'em, thirty-eight D. But you're not bad yourself, for a smart-arse banker. Got a nice tight bum, too. I like that in a man.'

  He was slightly taken aback, but passed it off with a chuckle and a sly comment. 'Do you always check out men's bums?'

  'Same way as you check out women's tits, banker.'

  'My name is Kevin.'

  She grinned. 'Okay, Kev. Your place or mine?'

  'Pardon?'

  'Come off it. You want a bit of fun, I want a bit of fun, so how about now?'

  He was almost disconcerted at the abruptness of her; he wasn't used to that at all. For a moment they carried on walking, then Louise stopped by a 2CV that had been painted by hand, bringing Kevin back to earth with a thud. What was he doing? If she was always this casual, how many other men and clambered inside her knickers? It didn't seem that much clambering was required. Hell, they would probably fall off if he crooked his little finger. His prick, however, knew no such hesitation, and he found himself speaking again. 'How about Saturday?'

  'Sounds fine by me.'

  'I know a nice little hotel...'

  'My place is better.' She gave a broad smile, and winked. 'Plenty of room for innovation, and we won't be disturbed by room service.'

  'So where do you live?'

  'Meet me at the supermarket car park over there, lunchtime on Saturday, and I'll drive. That way no one will see your car at my place. I know you're married.'

  'Don't you mind that?'

  'Hell, no. Older men are usually less prudish than the young studs, and married is safer. I'm not stupid enough to get myself tied to some lovesick teenager when I'm just nineteen.'

  Older men? Kevin was slightly hurt by the assumption that she considered him old, and slightly shocked to find she was only nineteen, but as his eyes greedily devoured her generous bosom, he found himself becoming even more excited by the prospect than he had been before. If Esther hadn't been waiting for him he would have quite happily followed her home right away. 'Two days' time, then,' he said, with a certain amount of gung-ho bravado.

  'Okay stud. I'll see what you're made of on Saturday. TTFN, stud.'

  He strutted back to his car as she zoomed off. Bloody hell - nineteen and fancying him. In that moment everything he had learned over the past few weeks went straight out of the window. He would give the little whore a rogering on Saturday she would remember for a long while.

  By Saturday Kevin's excitement had been dulled only slightly by the fact that he had lied to Esther about a weekend meeting in the city for the first time in ages. She had smiled happily and waved him off, but there had been a kind of sadness in her gaze, almost as if she knew what he was doing. But how the hell could she know? One thing he prided himself on was his discretion. He had never once let Esther know he had not been faithful to her. He really didn't want to hurt her.

  And there he was, sitting in his car in the supermarket, feeling slightly miserable, wondering if Louise was indeed going to turn up, or whether she'd got cold feet. He would feel pretty silly booking himself into a hotel for a lonely night if she didn't come, because he wouldn't dare go home till Sunday.

  Then a horn blared behind him. Still dressed in black, but this time with fluorescent green hair, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat as she leaned over to unlock the passenger door. 'Hi there, get in,' she beamed.

  He pressed the remote that worked the central locking system on his company car, and squeezed himself into the bucket seat by her side. The whole car smelled of something sweet and probably illegal, and he wondered, once again, what the hell he was doing.

  But Louise clearly knew no such misgivings; she slammed the car into gear and screeched away with an acceleration that surprised him. 'This is going to be fun,' she said.
'I've been looking forward to this. I know your type. You like to dominate, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. I brought these in case you wanted to use them.' She indicated a pair of handcuffs that were sitting openly on the dashboard.

  Kevin blushed slightly, grabbed them, and put them on his lap, out of sight of other drivers. Louise had her eyes on the road, and didn't seem to notice his awkwardness.

  'I've got just about everything in the pad. Restraints, gags, beaters, you name it. The place has got a fantastic beam, too. Ideal for bondage.' She elbowed him in the ribs. 'Nearly there, just round the corner.'

  'The pad' didn't look like a residential building, and Kevin found himself swivelling in the seat with apprehension. It looked more like a dockside warehouse than a place someone lived. However, there were a few more cars in a small car park, and when they entered the foyer he realised the warehouse had been turned into flats. Huge flats. The blossoming realisation that Louise's accent and choice of clothes and car were not indicative of her financial status was proven as she opened a rather functional door into a vast room, which was ablaze with sunshine. Great banks of windows down one side looked out over a river area which had once been docks and was in the process of being turned into a leisure complex, and the inside of the room was obviously and outrageously designer-born.

  'Daddy bought it for me,' she said, throwing her woven ethnic bag onto a leather sofa, and joining him at the window. 'Great, isn't it?'

  Kevin swallowed his irritation. Why should she have all this just because daddy bought it for her, the little cow?

  Louise pressed a button and blinds began to roll down electrically over the windows, shutting out the daylight. She pressed another switch, and red light filtered down from the high ceiling. She wandered over and lit a couple of josticks, and the room instantly became a whore's boudoir.

  'Blimey,' Kevin said, impressed despite his jealousy. Louise grinned at his awe, and pressed another switch. There was the small whine of a motor and a hook descended from one of the beams. He was under no illusions as to its intended use. 'Now let's get this straight,' he said. 'I'm the one who's going to be dominant, here? Right?'

  She bent over, pulling a box from under her bed. 'There are wooden structures by the stairs which can be useful, especially that half-banister. There's the bed, there's the beam, and there are various attachments on this wall. The rest of the stuff is in that chest. Would you like a drink before we start?'

  'Yes, please,' he said fervently, not feeling at all sexy. It was too organised, somehow, and turned him right off.

  She opened a cabinet which was filled with every kind of drink under the sun. 'Gin?'

  'Whisky - on the rocks,' he said. 'Why in hell do you temp when you've got all this?' he asked.

  'Because I enjoy it. Christ, I'd get bored sitting at home all day. Anybody would. God knows how women can do that. Must turn them into mushrooms.' She knocked back her gin as if it was water.

  Kevin thought guiltily about Esther. There had been a couple of times she'd indicated she'd like a job, and he had laughed at the idea of his wife needing to work. Did she feel like that? He liked his wife to be not working; it made him feel much more like the provider, the man of the house, but it hadn't really occurred to him that a woman could be bored with being a housewife. It was what they were supposed to be, wasn't it? And he'd often said he'd give his eye-teeth for the chance to sit at home and do nothing. For the first time, he wondered if that was true.

  The whisky began to warm his insides. He wasn't used to drinking spirits in the middle of the day. Come to think of it, he wasn't used to having steamy sex in the middle of the day, let alone bondage sessions.

  Louise was standing there with her hands on her hips, her head to one side. 'Are you getting cold feet, buster? Aren't your balls big enough for this? Are you only capable of bonking silly bimbos in hotel rooms?'

  'Christ, you're a mouthy little thing, aren't you?' Kevin snapped, irritated.

  'I've heard the rumours. That was why I thought you had more spunk.' Her foot began to tap on the floor, then she turned and flounced to the door. 'If you don't want to do it, fine. Just walk on out of here, and maybe just after you're gone I'll give your sweet little wife a call to say how you can't get it up any more. Who knows, perhaps honey-bunch will be pleased.'

  'My number's unlisted,' he sneered smugly, not believing she'd carry out the threat, even if she did have his home number.

  She grinned, picked up a mobile phone from her bag, and tapped in a number. Kevin stood there watching, a sense of unreality creeping over him. Even from where he was he could hear the ringing tone. Then there was the sound of a voice, tiny, but recognisable. 'Hello... Hello? Who is this?'

  He took an angry step towards Louise, wrenched the phone from her hand, and thrust her backward onto the bed as he cancelled the call. Throwing the telephone aside he put a knee on her chest and pinned her wrists back up above her head. 'You bitch,' he said, then stopped. They stared at each other, face to face for a moment, and Kevin could see she was flushed and panting. 'This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?' he panted.

  She said nothing, but pulled fractionally at the confinement of his hands around her wrists as though testing his strength. He tightened his hold. She wriggled slightly harder, then lifted a leg and kneed him in the ribs. It hurt, but he retained his grip, shifting his body so she couldn't do that a second time. 'Oh, we like to play rough, do we? Well, two can play at that game, darling.'

  He flipped her over onto her front and put a knee in the small of her back, the power and weight differential evident in the ease with which he held her there while he leaned back and dragged a rope from the chest. Despite her furious struggles he bound her hands behind her back, then crossed her ankles and dragged them up behind her, hog-tying her with one end of the rope so that her knees splayed out. Then he lifted her head by her tangled green hair and wrapped the other end of the rope around her mouth so she was arched back by the makeshift gag.

  To his surprise he found himself buzzing with the excitement of tying her up, and was warming to the event quite nicely. 'I saw that one in a magazine,' he said conversationally. 'I think you'll find you can't get out of it.'

  She struggled against the bonds, making grunting noises, but Kevin realised she was not upset at all, just really turned on by her lack of control. He also realised quite suddenly that this was for real. This was what the bitch wanted. She wanted to be used and abused; it was what she thrived on. He sat on the bed beside her and inserted a hand into her garments, searching and finding a nipple to toy with. She groaned and squirmed at his touch, and his own arousal was galvanised into action. Swivelling her around on the bed, he put his hands into her skirt and yanked her knickers down, forcing them over her knees until they dangled on her crossed ankles. She was panting with anticipation as he smoothed both hands up over her tight buttocks.

  His prick throbbed, the tightness of his trousers an almost painful constriction as his erection pumped into being. He felt his breath shortening with anticipation as he thrust a finger between her thighs to find she was already wet and slick and ready. From his experience at the hands of the not-so-lovely Michelle a couple of months back, he knew that she was aroused simply by the action of being tied up, something he would not have really believed had it not happened to himself.

  Trembling slightly he slipped down to kneel at the side of the low bed, unzipped his trousers and thrust them down over his thighs. He pulled Louise towards him and tempted his rampant erection with the sight of the exposed female sex as he untied her ankles. Now he was able to pull her off the edge of the bed to slip her vagina cosily onto his ready cock. She knelt before him in an arc, her neck still bent back towards him by the rope gag attached to her wrists, her breasts jutting out wantonly into his seeking hands. He ripped the fabric from them, not caring about the damage he was doing to her clothes, and grasped handfuls of her generous bosom as he began to move in and out of her in long leisurely str
okes, sighing with the sheer eroticism of having this tight and nubile body at his disposal, to use as he pleased. Oh God, he thought, it was beautiful.

  She moaned a little, her hands working behind her, but he was not interested in whether she was comfortable or not. All he was interested in was pleasing himself, and it was good. Slowly he rubbed himself to explosive heights inside her, his prick enjoying every gliding, sensitising movement, while his hands worked at her breasts, kneading, pinching her large nipples into erection with finger and thumb as he pleasured himself, thrusting for deeper penetration. Then the novelty of the occasion became too much. He felt an incredible buzzing in his loins and thrust his hips violently a few times until he came, pulsing deep inside her.

  When he was done the euphoria diminished to a faintly comfortable aftermath. He pulled away and released the rope from her mouth, leaving her hands tied securely.

  'That good, bitch?' he mocked.

  'Hell,' she panted, tenderly touching her lips, then twisting her lithe body until she sat on the bed facing him, 'a bloody virgin could have managed to last longer than that, and I didn't even come.'

  'My, oh my, you really do want the works, don't you.'

  He stood up and explored the chest, and discovered a rather nice stainless steel leg-stretcher with a variable width adjustment. He turned his head to where she sat staring at him with that faintly supercilious expression on her face only rich kids manage to achieve with any degree of success.

  'Okay, you got it, sunshine,' he announced. 'I'm gonna make those nerve-endings jangle for you like they never jangled before. Ready to say thank you?'

  She yanked at the rope around her wrists, her mouth descending into a moue of distaste. 'Fuck off, old man. I've had better than you a thousand times already. Now untie me.'