Her Stern Gentleman

by Tabitha Rayne

  The ship. The journey that had changed everything. Her buttocks clench as she remembers the sailor. Guilt threatens to churn at her but she forces it out. They’d been through this—yes, in code, but she was sure James was fine. More than fine. They’ve been happier than they’ve ever been, but still… she wonders if she’s broken his heart more than just a little bit. She isn’t sure she’d be so forgiving.

  “James,” she says a little more loudly and drags herself away from the sticky heat of him. He stirs and smiles at her, his eyes telling her everything she needs to put her dark thoughts away.

  “Let me watch you dress.”

  Lizzie beams at him and reaches for her brassiere, swiftly slipping it on and reaching behind to the eyelets.

  “You know, my mother used to fasten it at her belly then twist it round to the back then shove her arms in like a strange sort of female straitjacket—I always thought it looked like a bit of an ordeal. Quite a contraption.”

  “James! I do not want to hear about your mother’s brassiere, thank you very much. Who sees their mother put on underwear, for goodness’ sake?” Lizzie tuts.

  “Oh, don’t be silly, it’s just a memory from when I was only a very little boy. I’m only bringing it up because you make the action look so elegant. You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Lizzie McCoy.”

  Heat rises from her décolleté up to her cheeks and she feels suddenly emotional. She turns and reaches for the dress, taking it off the hanger and slipping it over her head. Still facing away from him, she snakes her fingers to the zip at the back but quickly feels his hands on hers.

  “Here, let me,” he says and pulls the zip up slowly while breathing in the scent at the hair behind her ear, making her tremble. Goosebumps rise on her forearms as he dips into her further and reaches around to her thighs, dragging her skirt up and bundling the fabric into her crotch.

  “Don’t put any knickers on,” he whispers as he massages her pussy with the fabric once then lets it fall back into place.

  * * *

  It is strange how vulnerable she feels walking along with her naked cunt, free from hair and fabric. Just one whip of a breeze could have her exposed to the world. By the twitching in James’ jaw, hinting at a smirk, she can see that James finds it highly amusing.

  “Comfortable?” he asks, pulling her into him a little harder and draping his heavy arm across her shoulders.

  “Not really,” she says, agitated by passers-by; she flits her eyes here and there, irritation rises and she’s suddenly shocked at how used to life without it she has become. She used to live in a constant state of brittle irritability—ready to snap at any moment. It feels strange to analyse herself so. But as soon as she does, she lets it go and sinks into her lover’s flank, deciding to trust him.

  They’d eaten a quick supper of hotdogs on the street outside the apartment; her mother would have been horrified as she relished catching mustard and ketchup in her lace handkerchief.

  They go straight into Charlie’s; it has become their regular haunt for swing and a little fancy footwork. As they sit watching the band at their usual table, James sidles closer to her and places his hand on her thigh.

  “Do you like your naked cunt?” he asks while squeezing the flesh of her inner thighs, where they guard her now very naked cunt. The action turns her on and the word has her squirming.

  “No.” She hopes he isn’t disappointed.

  “That’s a pity. I’m looking forward to scratching my face on it later.”

  They sit for a while, watching the lindy boppers bouncing in time and Lizzie has the awful feeling that he’s going to take her up to dance in her knicker-less state. He wouldn’t. Would he?

  “I want to watch you dance. I want to see that pretty pussy of yours on display for all the men in here to see.”

  She’s horrified. “No, James!” Tears spring to her eyes. “You can’t mean that?”

  He turns to her and takes her face in his palms.

  “It’s ok, listen, it’s just a fantasy. Shh.”

  She’s turning cold from the outside in. It’s permeating her again. She’s in panic mode. She suddenly realises how fragile it all is.

  “I’m cold, Jim.”

  He looks stricken. Like the James of old, terror of doing the wrong thing—the knowledge he will anyway no matter what. She can’t bear it.

  Hold onto the fire, Lizzie. Hold on to this, she tells herself over and over, imagining his hands on her ass, spanking her hot again. It’s working. She tenses her buttocks in the chair and shuffles about, awakening the remnants of the spanking from earlier.

  He can see what she’s doing, she’s sure of it. She pleads with her eyes. Do something to make me feel safe, Jim. Dominate me.

  A glint crosses his eye and he reaches into his inside pocket.

  “Come on now, do you really think I’d put my woman on display? You’re mine, Lizzie, you know that.” He stuffs something into her fist. “Now go to the bathroom and put these on. But before you do, slide two of those sexy slim fingers up into your pussy. I want to smell you on them. Don’t make yourself come, but bring yourself close.” He shuffles in and shoves his hand up in between her legs, jabbing a finger in between her lips. It happens so fast, she’s not sure it’s happened at all. “I want you wet and ready for me when you get back. We are going to dance but not for long. I’m going to take you round the back alley, redden your ass, and fuck you like a cheap whore.”

  Lizzie blushes and is thrilled by his awful words. Her pussy convulses, she can practically hear the crashing of the trash bins as they bump and grind outside against them.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my hot little slut? Hmm.” His chin is at her neck just below her ear, rubbing the stubble and grazing her flesh.

  She fists what she assumes are panties in her hands and practically runs to the lavatories. By god, he can talk dirty when he wants to, she thinks as she slams the door of the stall shut and kicks off her heels. The floor is a little sticky but it all adds to the sordid detailing. She hoists up her skirts and opens her hand.

  She’s shuddering all over as she sinks down to the toilet.

  Peach silk panties.

  Her head is spinning. Is this a punishment or an embracement? The scrap of fabric is beautiful. Far prettier than the ones she’d tossed into the sea. He’d taken his time choosing these. She imagined him in the lingerie shop, or was it a department store? What was his motivation? Fury? Lust? Both? Something else?

  He had reassured her on many levels that all was well between them, so why this?

  She is shivering as she holds them open for her toes to slip into the leg holes. Don’t get cold, don’t; tears are smarting in her eyes. Will she ever be free of the guilt she feels over the sailor? Her fingertips brush her thighs on the way up and raise goosebumps in their wake. Fuck. Lizzie forces the doubts away by shaking her head hard and pulling the panties over her rump, letting her full skirt fall back into place. The silk feels cool on her buttocks and she rubs them through her dress and wiggles about in the stall until she is a little breathless—there. That’s better. She brings James’ words of the scene he wants to perform outside into a picture in her mind. A dishevelled woman pressed up against brickwork, her ass on display, pretty wet panties just below her rear, which is being thoroughly reddened by the large palm of her husband. She groans in her throat as a welling of arousal rises in her clit and she remembers his words. “Slide two of those sexy slim fingers up into your pussy. I want to smell you on them.”

  She actually glances around the tiny cubicle, blushing at what she is about to do—what she wants to do. She hoists her skirts and slides her hand down the front of her knickers. Gasping, she finds the bare lips damp and swollen already, slippery and fragrant with her own arousal. She dips her knees just a little to allow her fingers to slip deep inside just as he’d requested. Sensation creeps down the back of her neck, bringing her whole body into this one spot between her legs. Slowly, she slides h
er fingers out, cupping her palm and pressing it against her clit, then pushing them back in. A rhythm is developing and Lizzie’s knees begin to buckle. Oh god, he told her not to… it takes all her self-control to release her pussy from her hand.

  At the mirror, she rights herself and is pleased nobody else is there to witness that she isn’t washing her hands after using the lavatory. Lipstick applied, she goes out to meet James, who is waiting for her at the edge of the dancefloor. To her relief, it is more of a waltz so she has been let off without showing her damp knickers to the world. James takes her in hand and swiftly manoeuvres her around the floor. She could be floating. Melting again, she lets him take control of everything—faces blur, music merges, her eyes close, and she hears him whisper as he pulls her hand to his face.

  “Ah, yes, yes, good girl. I can smell you.” He licks her fingers once, then pulls her in tight to him. So tight it almost feels menacing. “These smell very ripe, Lizzie, did you make yourself come?” His voice is a low growl and Lizzie’s legs almost give way.

  “No, no,” she says, staring up at him only to see the expression in his eyes doesn’t match the ferocity of his tone. They sparkle with a delight that makes her want to eat him. Her mouth waters for him.

  “Are you fibbing, Elizabeth?”

  Her heart melts even more as he tries to look stern. The grip round her waist turns to a nudge and tickle.

  “No, sir, no, stop!” She is squirming now as his fingers tease her ribs. “Stop.”

  “Sir?” James stops dancing and stares her straight in the eye. “I like that.” He swiftly pulls her to their table and gathers their things. “Let’s go.”

  Lizzie can tell by the urgent, slightly awkward way he’s walking that he’s already hard. He’ll be desperate to be released from his trousers. Lizzie closes her eyes and lets him drag her outside, thoughts whirring through her mind.

  Chapter Nine

  “Oh, my god, Lizzie, what you do to a man.” His cock is almost painful, it feels so constricted. He knows there’s already come on the tip; he felt it leak out when he smelled her pussy on her own hands. Musky, perfumed, feral. He could have thrown her down and fucked her there and then. He knows he shocked her with the panties. It was a gamble—one he felt he had to make. He needed to prove to her that all was well between them and he needed to show her in a way that made the experience part of their bond together. He’d spank her in those peach knickers just the way the sailor had, only he’d get to have her at the end of it all. Complete their bond.

  “Stop here.” He pushes her up against the crumbling brickwork behind the trash cans. No one will see them here, he’d checked earlier in the day, but Lizzie doesn’t know that. “Bend over and put your palms up against the wall, you’re going to need something to lean against when I’m finished with you.” He sees the goosebumps prickle across her shoulder and a yelp escapes her throat as he throws her skirts up and over her peachy ass. God, she’s soaking already. The dark patch in the fabric is spreading before his very eyes. How far can he push this? She seems to like it dirty. He thinks he’ll try. He leans in first to her ear and whispers:

  “If you want me to stop, just say Carinthia, you understand?”

  She nods, twisting through her hair to see him but her stops her, pushing her head back so she is looking at the ground again.

  Now he is almost shaking with what he is about to do, to say, to his wife. He is so aroused he’s almost afraid he’ll come in his pants before he even begins. Taking a breath, he rubs his hands together and cracks his knuckles. The sound makes her shudder so he does it again. He pulls his shoulders back and begins.

  “I must say I’m shocked at finding such a slut out here. Do you know how many men can see you with your sodden knickers on show like a used whore? It looks like your cunt is dripping spunk from all the men who’ve fucked you here in this putrid place.” He puts one hand to her head and weaves his fingers in her hair while sliding his palm over her buttocks, dipping a finger into the wet heat at her crotch. “Hmm, yes, a freshly fucked whore.” Squeezing her hair, he stretches her head up to expose her sexy throat. “I think you want me to punish you for your wanton ways, don’t you?”

  She nods and he spanks her swiftly and sharply.

  “I can’t hear you. I asked you a question. Do you want me to punish you for being such a cheap slutty whore?”

  “Yes,” she says, her breath ragged.

  He spanks her again, harder.

  “Yes, what?”

  There’s a tremble in her voice as she answers.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  He thwacks her hard a few more times on each cheek, then releases her hair and stands directly behind her.

  “Now let’s inspect this pussy of yours, all desperate for cocks. I bet you can take two at a time.”

  Lizzie’s hips speak a thousand words as they sway and buck, inviting him to take her. He holds the panties that he’d taken about an hour to find that day in the big department store. He’d felt awkward but it was worth it now. He takes the fabric at her hips in each hand and pulls slowly, teasing himself as well as his wife. She really does have a magnificent arse. He peels the panties down, savouring the way he has to tug a little to pull the wettest part out of the crook of her arse and cunt. He slides them to just below her buttocks, which somehow feels more sordid than taking them off completely.

  “Ahh, yes, so beautiful. So wet.” He parts her ass with both hands and nudges her feet apart with his before plunging two fingers deep inside her heat. Her cunt clutches and guzzles at him and he wants to pull out his cock right now and fuck her. It’s a tense moment and he has to hold still while he gathers his composure. When he is calm enough, he withdraws his fingers and positions himself to her side. He places one hand on the base of her spine and begins to gently spank each cheek over and over again until she sways in time. After what must be a minute or so, he ups the strength and pace, hitting his wife’s perfect rump over and over again until it’s burning under his palms. His hands are hot and raw with heat and her ass is red. This must be getting too much but she doesn’t make a sound, apart from the occasional gasp or sigh.

  “I see,” he says while still spanking, his words made staccato by his actions. “So you put up no resistance to your punishment—you know exactly how much you need this, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His hand is becoming too painful so he slows his pace and moves to the other side to give his right hand a break. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Three hard blows have her rocking on her heels and he stops, taking position behind her again. Her reddened arse is a glorious site and her dark pucker twitches and pouts. He falls to his knees and burrows his head into her cleft, inhaling her damp scent and licking her yearning clit, forcing her bare labia open with his long flat tongue. Oh, how he could feast on her like this for hours. She is groaning now and it is wonderful. He slides his tongue up to her pussy and French kisses her there, pushing as deep as he can into her soaking depths. She pushes back against him, urging him deeper and he rises, freeing his desperate cock from his pants and fisting it, tugging it hard while he rams two fingers deep inside her.

  “That’s it, that’s it, you cheap whore, let me fuck you with my fingers and come all over your arsehole.”

  She slumps and whimpers and one hand drops from the wall. She’s reaching under herself and fingering her clit.

  “Hey, that’s my privilege,” he says, pulling out of her cunt with his fingers and replacing it with his cock. He reaches round and pushes her hand away and fucks her hard, as hard as he ever could and she has to slam her hand back up on the wall to get her balance again. His hands glide over her slippery stubbly lips and he wanks her off hard in a flurry of heat and moisture. She roars and convulses around him, making his cock jerk and spasm from the balls right up and out into her.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he roars too and comes hard and deep. Panting, he slumps forward onto her and she takes both their
weight.

  Her hair has fallen free and as he looks round he catches a glimpse of her tit hanging out too. He nudges his hips and pushes into her to watch it sway. There’s something so deliciously naughty about a woman’s breast hanging free, he thinks, and is amazed to find his dick swelling again.

  “Well, my my, you are indeed a temptress of honest men…”

  He straightens up and starts pulsing his reawakened erection slowly in and out, tipping his head to see her breast. He reaches over and rips down the front of her dress to expose both and ramps up his fucking.

  He withdraws his cock to take stock of her reddened ass. It truly is a sight to behold and he begins to knead it as he did his dough back in Britain. The action feels like home and he is amazed at how he suddenly misses it. His fingers pulse and squeeze and Lizzie is practically making purring noises as he pummels and plays with her tender flesh.

  He watches his cock bob between the two mounds and begins to press it up against her ass while he kneads. The dark little rose seems so inviting. He feels drunk with lust and spits on his fingers, rubbing the lubrication into the tight hole.

  “Jim, oh, Jim,” squeals Lizzie and clenches her ass tight.

  “Shhhh, trust me,” he says and lubricates her a little more, pressing his thumb gently into it. She still doesn’t yield so he kneels once more and begins licking and lapping at the ring of muscles just as he had the night before. He reaches to her clit and she relaxes, lets him in just the tiniest of ways. Replacing his tongue for a thumb, he presses harder until he breaches her hole to the first joint. She shudders and gasps and he stills, slowly, slowly moving gently while licking there too to keep everything gliding.

  “Bear down, Lizzie,” he says and she does. His thumb slides in fully and he stands up, pressing the other thumb too, trying to stretch it in beside. Slowly, it enters her and he gently massages her open, his fingers still on the burning flesh of her ass.