by Falls, K. C.
"I'm going to wrap this around your head and block your sight. Then I am going to tease you and play with your naked, succulent body until you beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you tell me how much you want it." He put the satin over my eyes and lifted my head from the pillow so he could bring the belt around again. I felt him tie the material at the side of my head. If I opened my eyes under the blindfold, all I saw was a red glow.
He gave me a deep, bruising kiss and began his journey down my body. I was already so excited I could easily have taken him there and then. But it was clear that wasn't his plan. I was faintly aware of the hum of the engines at first until his noises and his voice became the only sounds worth hearing. He nuzzled my neck with his nose and inhaled the perfume I had dabbled there. "Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes," he whispered at my throat. "Do you know what that means?"
I shook my head.
"The Sacred Tears of Thebes. As far as I know, the phrase didn't exist until the house of Baccarat made it up for that perfume." He licked the hollow of my throat. "I would like to earn more of your sacred tears."
He remembered. The single tear of pure ecstasy that escaped my eye once before. I had come with such force it took me to a place where my emotion just welled from me, impossible to contain. It was at Brian's, when he had commanded me to masturbate myself to orgasm as he watched. I had let him into a secret place and the whole experience had overwhelmed me. It was only the beginning.
Tristan lingered at my breasts. I didn't know if it was because I couldn't see him or if he was exaggerating the sound, but he slurped at them noisily and made sounds as if he was devouring a delicious meal. He sucked on one while he twisted the other. When he pulled his mouth away he kept sucking until my nipple left his mouth with an audible pop. Before he left my chest he took each breast in turn and, holding on with one hand, he slapped with the other. The sting and the sound combined in an exquisite combination of sensory overload. My nipples contracted in tiny angry fists and he flicked them each once with his tongue as he headed south.
When he came to my navel, he poked his tongue deep into me. It was an odd sensation. He made his tongue rigid enough to trigger that feeling of attachment inside. I squirmed a little, I've never really liked having my belly button poked. He laughed and buzzed into me again. I tried to turn my waist so he'd move away.
"Ah . . . a weak spot. We'll save that for later," he chuckled. Then he blew a big raspberry onto my belly until I laughed hard. I was beginning to see that sex with Tristan could take many forms. He could blend the serious, the dominant, the gentle, and even the funny aspects of passion all in one compelling package.
He skipped over my pussy on his way to my legs, as I thought he would. Before that part of me got any attention, he seemed determined to explore every other square inch of me. He nibbled at my inner thighs, alternating kisses, sucking and nipping bites to the tender flesh. I couldn't help but grab a handful of his hair and try to nudge him up toward my sex.
Pushing my hand away from him, he said, "I think you're not quite ready yet. We have so much territory to cover."
His mouth found the back of my knees and I moaned with the pleasure of his attention on them. The blindfold kept me guessing as he repositioned himself. Then I felt him place each of my calves across his thighs. He was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.
He began a slow foot massage on one of my feet. Rolling both of his thumbs against my instep and up over the ball of my foot gave me a wonderful feeling. When he pulled my foot closer to his face, I could feel his breath close to my toes. Suddenly, I felt his tongue snake between my big toe and my second toe. I didn't know what to feel! He moved to the space between the second and third. God it felt divine. I never realized how sensitive my foot was. I didn't want to groan. Something in me was saying "No, no. That's kinky stuff, weirdness. You should not enjoy this so much." But I did enjoy it. A lot.
"Oh dear God, Tristan. That feels so, so good." Maybe it was better that I didn't see his mouth on my foot, maybe it was easier to let him do these things when I couldn’t see.
Tristan just murmured and ran his tongue down my instep before he took the other one up for its share of attention. By the time he was done with my feet, I was writhing against the mattress ready to yank the man up between my legs by his ears.
I felt him shift again as his legs went out behind him and he kissed his way back up my legs. His broad shoulders burrowed under my thighs as he began to nuzzle around my pussy. I could feel how swollen I was. The petal folds were plump with arousal and my clit was quivering, engorged, needy. Tristan kissed into the place just where my body meets my leg. He took his mouth and pressured the skin just next to the lips. Then he took the lips in turn and kissed and sucked on them, too.
I was dying to have him take my clit in his mouth. I was so turned on by this time that I was sure it would be a matter of 1, 2, 3 and I'd be blasting off into a sonic boom of an orgasm. But he just kept working the edges, swelling the swollen even more. Occasionally, he would flick my throbbing erection with his tongue or pause to suck it into his mouth but he didn’t apply any pressure or begin any rhythm.
I began to whimper with need. "Please, please . . ." I thrashed my head from side to side, suddenly more aware than ever that I couldn't see him or what he was doing to me.
"Please what, my sweet, tasty Raina?" he asked from between my legs.
"Fuck me Tristan, now. Enter me. I can't wait any longer."
"I think you can."
He started to work on my clit, but too slowly and softly to push me over. I tried to grind myself into him harder, to get the pressure I wanted, but he deflected my effort.
"Tristan, please. You're driving me crazy."
"Tell me."
I could hear the huskiness in his voice. I knew my arousal pleased him. I knew that, if I could see his eyes, they would be half-hooded and clouded with desire for me. "Now. I want your cock in me. I don't want to wait to fuck you. Now!"
"Listen to yourself," he whispered in my ear as he positioned his body over mine. "Listen to what a demanding horny bitch you've become, my Queen." He growled with special emphasis on the 'horny bitch' part and returned to pure honey on 'my Queen'. I loved the sound of that--Tristan King's queen.
His cock was just at my entrance and he moved his hips so that the head slid back and forth over my slick folds. I opened my legs wide and urged him into me. He filled me with a slow smooth thrust. The pure sensation of joining body to body, engulfed us both.
Moving ever so slowly, Tristan began to stroke inside me. He positioned himself high against my pubic bone, over me, rather than deep within me. I wrapped my legs around him and rocked against him.
"That's the way, concentrate on getting that clit massaged . . ."
The base of his cock and the angle of his bone against mine had zeroed in on my needy erection perfectly. I began to push back against him each time he reached the apex of his shallow stroke. He breathed encouragement to me.
"It's all yours, baby. Your cock, for just your pleasure. Show me how good it feels."
There was nothing but his voice and the quivering, reaching desire of our bodies. I gripped his shoulders hard and bore up against him. He was still moving in a languid rhythm but the way his cock was hitting me drove me closer and closer to orgasm. When I came, it was with a series of long, long spasms that went on forever. The pleasure diffused through my body. Instead of being sharp, it was encompassing, everything in me seemed engulfed with pure, crystalline pleasure. It ended with small shuddering sobs. I felt the tears behind the sash, wetting the edges. He pulled the satin blindfold away and kissed my eyelids.
"The sacred tears of Raina. You gave them to me."
I sniffed a little sniff and smiled into his handsome face. "A gift gladly given. Oh, Tristan, such pleasure . . ."
He shifted his weight slightly and started to move again.
"It's your turn now," I told him as I angled my hips so that he could fill me wi
th his full length, deeply, up to the very mouth of my womb. I held the backs of my knees open and urged him with my body and my words to come.
"Now, fuck me hard. I want it hard and I want to feel you take what's yours."
"Oh, baby, that's it . . . tell me."
"Hard, Tristan, slam your beautiful cock into me . . . into my cunt." I watched his face as I spoke. Saying the forbidden words brought him to the tipping point. I could see it in the contortion of his face as he threw his head back and held himself deep within me. He moved only slightly as he emptied himself into me. My body had just been so, so well satisfied and now I had the other, equally beautiful pleasure of having his satisfaction poured into me.
He stayed on top of me for a moment or two. My arms slowly relaxed away from their tight grip on his shoulders and my legs slipped away from his waist. His cock shrunk into satisfied slumber and soon we joined it, twined around each other as the jet moved closer to its mystery destination.
Two
The pilot must have relaxed the rules (or been ordered to) because I awoke in bed to the sound and feeling of the plane landing. Tristan awoke also and told me just to sleep on if I wanted to.
"It was only a six hour flight. Get your beauty rest. We can stay on the plane as long as you like."
It didn't take a lot of persuading for me to snuggle back against him and enjoy the sensation. It was the first time we had actually slept together. No matter what adventure he had planned for us, nothing was nearly as compelling at that moment as resting in the shelter of his arms. I turned onto my side and let the comfort of his body spooning against me lull me into a dreamless sleep.
He was gone when I woke up the next time. I shimmied over to his side of the bed and buried my face into his pillow. I could smell the faintest trace of him lingering there.
My robe was once again draped over the foot of the bed with the sash threaded through the loops at the waist. I smiled as I tied the satin belt around me recalling the role it had played in our bed the night before.
I found Tristan in the dining area of the plane when I emerged from the master suite. He was also back in his robe and was tending to the table. He had set our places and there was a silver coffee service waiting on the counter.
"Normally, I'd have a steward to take care of all this," he said sweeping his hand at the table, "but I wanted us to have complete privacy, at least until we began our little vacation. Then, all bets are off."
"Are you going to tell me where we are?" The window screens had been raised but when I looked out all I saw was the inside of a hanger. Nothing there gave me a clue as to where we had landed after our six hour flight.
"Béziers Cap d'Agde Airport is our precise location," he pronounced--as if that meant something to me. I had to have him repeat the name a couple of times before it stuck. He said it with a perfect French accent that nearly made me slide off my feet.
"Great. Am I safe in assuming we're somewhere in France?"
"Oui."
So far so good. I had been to France on my college backpack tour. Mostly I remembered the museums in Paris, the train ride to Arles and Avignon and expensive damn everything. It was going to be an entirely new experience to see the country from a different perspective.
"We're going to have breakfast and then we'll be on our way. Because out there," He pointed outside, "it's already lunch time." He motioned for me to sit down at the table. I poured myself a cup of coffee that smelled faintly of chocolate and almonds and doused it with a healthy dose of sugar and thick cream.
"I figured you for a 'coffee as dessert' kind of girl."
"Too true. Coffee is only a vehicle to deliver the sweet and the fat."
"You never drank coffee at all at the theater."
"How observant. You're right, I don't drink it at night. Keeps me up." I continued to be amazed and flattered that Tristan made note of the smallest details about me. Right down to the fact that I'd be the type to dig a girlie flavored coffee.
"The bakery delivered these this morning." There was a basket of warm breads--pain du chocolate, small salted hard rolls, and something with whole apricots that looked outstanding. "And you'll never taste better butter than this." Dipping his finger into the clay ramekin, he brought the buttered tip to my mouth and I licked it off. He was right, it was so far ahead of any butter I'd ever tasted that it shouldn't have borne the same name. His finger lingered on my lips and traced around the sensitive edges. I gave a small sigh of pleasure, both for the taste and for the touch.
He picked up one of the hard rolls and broke it in two. He slathered butter on one half for me and on the other for himself. He served us omelets with ham and cheese and hot fruit compote made with cherries, figs and hazelnuts.
"I have a feeling that food is going to be a key element in this trip. Am I right?"
"My darling, there is no point in eating swill when you can eat ambrosia." He took a mouthful of omelet and tasted it carefully. "This, for example, is pre-prepared airplane food. It was made yesterday and reheated this morning. If you were flying commercial, it would taste like over salted shit. However, made with real Emmental, Iberian ham and Amish farmed eggs it's actually worth eating. My chef takes special care not to over season, but you'll find the fresh herbs add far more flavor." He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Did you know that your sense of taste is diminished at high altitudes?"
"No," I mumbled as I tucked into the omelet with new found respect, "I didn't."
"Sadly, yes. Your delicate flavor, for example, was way too subdued when I dined on you last night." He flashed me his devil grin.
I flushed at the reminder. My body came to life so easily at his every suggestion. The things he said to me! Other men might mention 'good sex' or 'fantastic climax' but Tristan chose to recall my taste in his mouth.
We finished our omelets and he picked up my fruit cup and silently fed me. He held my eyes as the sweet tart taste filled my mouth. "Oh, god, that's too good," I told him. He seemed to get a big kick out of feeding me. I didn't mind at all. It was very sexy to have a man take such interest in my pleasure. He appeared determined to explore every sensual outlet I had. I was game.
***
I chose to wear pale peach shorts, pretty cream colored sandals and a cotton sleeveless sweater with a peach, rose and aqua weave. The sweater had a matching cardigan that I looped over my shoulders. The underwear I had to choose from stunned me. I wound up just choosing a random set, in white. Everything fit perfectly and felt like a billion bucks.
I twirled in the full length mirror. Very Berkshire Hills. Very sophisticated. Very grown up. I chose to twist my hair into a loose chignon at the base of my neck rather than leave it free. That added to the classy look.
There was a car waiting for us right outside the hanger. I was not surprised to see Kwan waiting to open the door for us to climb in.
"Hi Kwan," I smiled. "Were you on board the flight?" I wondered where Tristan had hidden his bodyguard.
"Ah, Miss Raina. Good morning." He gave me a big grin. After our fashion expedition, the coldness I felt in the beginning had completely disappeared. "Actually, I was the co-pilot. I told you I wear many hats."
"You are very talented. I wanted to thank you for helping set up my parents' security. My mother really took a shine to you. I think it made a big difference in how comfortable she felt with the whole thing."
"She and your father are in excellent hands. I know the two guys protecting them. I'd trust them with my life. We installed a state-of-the-art alarm system. And you mother told me you'd approve of the street level window bars."
"I've been asking them to do that for years."
"You should know that I am in frequent contact with the house. So, no worries."
I felt ashamed that I had not, in fact, been at all worried. I'd been so distracted and entertained by my mystery trip with my dream man that my poor parents' plight had more or less vanished from my mind. Now it was back.
Tristan mus
t have seen the look of concern cross my face. "We have everything under control. Kwan's security is impeccable and Archie is moving right along in gathering the evidence we need to put the thugs behind bars for a very long time."
"But the men who want to 'make an example'--your words, Tristan--out of my father are still out there. And now my parents are back in Park Slope . . ." I guess I kind of whined the last words. I saw Tristan shoot Kwan a look I was glad wasn't meant for me as he guided me into the back of the car.
"We can't make a move until everything is in place. Please try to trust me, Raina." He patted my knee paternalistically. I half expected him to say 'there, there'. Funny how even under that circumstance the warmth of his hand went right to my core.
The car I climbed into had only two white leather reclining seats in the back. Kwan took his place in the fully enclosed chauffer's compartment in front of us. I looked up to see the top above our heads open noiselessly to the clear blue sky.
Once again, my curiosity got the better of me. The car was like nothing I had ever seen. Even the Maserati 'Batmobile' back in the Hills was at least recognizable as a sort of sedan. This vehicle was specifically designed for a chauffeur and one or two passengers. It reminded me of a space age hansom cab. "Tristan, what the hell are we riding in?"
"Maybach Landaulet," he answered, obviously way too pleased that I had asked. "Very limited production. It's just the perfect car for the South of France."
We zipped along through a fairly modern town, at least by French standards. Soon the Mediterranean came into view and we hugged the coast passing white sand beach after white sand beach.
"This is the town of Agde. I brought you here because it is probably the world's largest naturist place in the world. At the height of the season, there are almost 40,000 naked people in the naturist village part of Cap d'Agde. It isn't a place to linger long, but once in a while it makes for an interesting experience."