by J. KRAMER
“Move your left leg a little, Melinda and rest your chin on the knee of your right. Yes, that’s good.” He absorbed the picture she made, her eyes wild with lust for him, her lips moist and swollen with desire, she looked every inch the wanton siren begging her lover to come and ravish her. It was a pity she had such a bush. He could hardly see her clit, her vagina. “Move your left leg some more. Point your toes as if you’re playing with the pebbles in the water,” he told her. Her clit was still not visible so he took off his sandals and gingerly stepping on the rocky bottom, joined her. He pulled her legs farther apart, looked down at her clit and saw the dark lips opening for him, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Bending down, he cupped his hands and scooped water into them. He sprinkled the water over her body watching the droplets trickle down to settle on her breasts, her nipples and on her bush. Scooping up some more water, he let it trickle down her clit. All this time Melinda didn’t move a muscle as he shifted her legs, her hands her face or utter a sound. Reaching down, he touched her clit hoping she wouldn’t respond and keep her pose. She didn’t move so he carefully separated the lips more so the clitoris became visible.
Melinda felt his hands on her body. Accompanied by the sun, she was on fire for him, but she didn’t move. She’d wait and bide her time. By that evening, he’d be ripe. For years she’d had this fantasy, to pose for a gifted painter. Now, her dreams had finally been realized. It was the greatest aphrodisiac she’d ever experienced and her clit throbbed in answer to the situation and surroundings. She tried to stay very still though her flesh tingled, her gut ached for wanting him, especially when she saw the bulge straining his shorts. The thought that she’d soon take the paintings to the gallery to be displayed for the public heightened her desire even more. It took all her willpower not to jump off the rock, run to him, pull the paintbrush out of his hands and rape him.
The sky was already changing color. The vivid blue now streaked with pretty shades of chablis and mauve, the horizon a vivid orange, as if Lucien had reached up and quickly painted the sky with pastel colors. The sun became an orange ball of fire, bathing the landscape in its last rays. The horses grazed a distance away from Lucien. Every now and then the mare would sidle up to him and nuzzle his neck as if prodding him on. Lucien sighed. He stepped back to look at his work and nodded. “Melinda, that’s it for today. I can finish the paintings back at the hotel now.”
Melinda jumped off the rock and waded back to dry land. She shivered. The evening air was nippy. Her nipples puckered but not from the cooler air. The bulge in Lucien’s shorts was still obvious. Quickly, she joined him and brushed against him on purpose while she admired the painting. “It’s great, Lucien,” she whispered. “It’s much better than the other one.”
Lucien stepped forward to add a few last brush strokes. As he reached out, his arm brushed against her nipples. This caused an electric charge to surge through his arm and he almost missed the spot he’d wanted to touch up a little.
Melinda stepped aside to stand behind him. “You must be tired,” she said softly, and slipped her hands beneath his shirt softly massaging his muscles.
“Ah—that feels good,” Lucien murmured. He hardly felt her hands as she fumbled with the button and the zipper. Not until his cock sprang free did he realize what she was doing. He turned to face her. Melinda was just inches away from him his cock, which was automatically reaching for her womanhood. His libido surfaced in full. The paintbrush dropped to the ground as he reached for her breasts.
Melinda sucked in her breath as his fingers tweaked her nipples and his hands kneaded her breasts. She could feel his cock against her belly and she arched toward him. Within seconds his strong arms were around her body easing her slowly to the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips. When Lucien claimed her lips, she thought her heart would burst out of her chest. His tongue entered her mouth, exploring, sucking. Entwined, they rolled through the grass hardly noticing the two horses that watched with interest as the humans engaged in sex play. Somehow she felt his cock find her vagina, enter her, fill her with its need, answering her own cravings.
Melinda ended up on top. She gazed into his hot eyes that were almost black with passion, tried to drown in their depths and reach his soul as she rode him. Realizing that he was soon coming to a climax, she stopped suddenly and moved slowly up and down, encasing his cock tightly within her vagina. She felt him squirm beneath her buttocks until he suddenly grabbed her by the waist, rolled her over onto her back while his cock never left her vagina and sat between her legs. He drove into her, savagely as if he were trying to rid himself of the weeks of sadness, of despair. His eyes were wild, his long hair now loose, hands kneading her breasts roughly until her nipples ached for his lips. Her ears roared as she felt his cock swell, she knew release was close. She urged him on, “Yes, Lucien, yes!” she shouted and lifted her buttocks so he could drive in deeper. When he flung his head back, eyes closed, she gasped and felt her juices answer his release, but when he suddenly pulled out of her and rested his cock between her breasts, she came crashing down to earth. The pearly liquid spilled, shot into her neck, its musty scent drifting into her nostrils. Disappointed that he’d not completed the act within her, she closed her eyes and lay quietly. Hoping for his arms around her she extended her arms, but he didn’t fall on top of her, didn’t gather her into his arms. When she looked at him finally, he still sat between her legs his face held up to the sky, his chest heaving. “Lucien?” she said softly.
Lucien grunted softly. He’d not meant to have sex with Melinda but his cock had betrayed him, it had betrayed Becky. Guilt now entered his heart, his soul and mind. Without a word he stood up, pulled his shorts on and started to gather his equipment.
Melinda felt disappointed but a small smile of satisfaction played on her lips. She got him this far. Slowly, she would work her way into his heart. She would make Lucien want her so much that he’d never think of Becky again except as some girl from a distant dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Becky walked into the master bedroom followed by Maggie whom Gavin had introduced to her as the housekeeper. Opposed to the rest of the female staff members, who were all pretty young girls, Maggie was an austere older woman. Her gray hair was tightly drawn back from her face and piercing gray eyes scrutinized Becky from head to toe. “I hope everything is to your satisfaction, Ma’am,” she said her lips tight, barely opening them to speak.
Becky glanced around the large room. Again, just like her clothes on the boat, everything smelled new. The carpet, she was sure was new. It was white and very thick. Her feet sank into its deep plush as she walked around the room. Large French doors opened onto a private balcony. Long pale gray sheers billowed softly into the room and white velvet drapes flanked the doors. The king size bed was covered with a black quilt. The headboard and nightstands were also black. They were a stark contrast to the white. “It looks like a funeral parlor,” she commented. “I’d prefer one of the guest rooms if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry. We’re expecting the guests this evening to stay overnight. Plus, Mr. Moore wouldn’t like it if you occupied a guest room,” said Maggie, her smooth forehead furrowed into a frown.
“I need my privacy, Maggie. I’ll speak to Gavin.”
The door closed behind Maggie. Now alone, Becky sat on the side of the bed with a sinking feeling. She didn’t want to share that bed with Gavin. The white phone on the nightstand beckoned invitingly. But whom could she phone? She opened the drawer and closed it again in disgust. It was filled with sex toys. After searching the whole room, all the drawers and cupboards, she couldn’t find a phone book. Finally a thought occurred to her. The operator…
“Good afternoon. I’d like the number for vital statistics, please?”
She memorized the phone number, as she had no pen. Quickly she dialed it only to hear an answering machine tell her that the office was closed. She’d have to wait until tomorrow.
&
nbsp; The door opened. Hastily she replaced the receiver but too late. Gavin’s sharp eyes had seen. “Gavin, I’d prefer to sleep in a separate room. Could you tell Maggie to prepare one of the guest rooms for me?”
Gavin looked at Becky. Whom had she just tried to call? Was she getting her memory back? He’d have Harry take the phone out of the bedroom. But, he couldn’t very well take all the phones out of the house. He’d have to keep an eye on her all the time. “That’s not possible, my dear. The rooms are all taken tonight. Anyway, wouldn’t the staff find it rather strange if we occupied separate rooms?”
“I don’t care what the staff thinks. You know how I feel.”
“Becky, I know you’re upset with what happened on the boat. Juanita has forgiven me for sleeping with you. Surely you can forgive me for fucking Juanita? You enjoyed all this before you lost your memory,” he lied.
“I waited till we were home, Gavin, before telling you this. I don’t feel anything for you and even the sexual desire I felt at first has gone now. I can’t forgive you and neither can I forget seeing you fuck Juanita. I’ll be filing for divorce tomorrow.”
He ignored her. “Why don’t you get ready for dinner? Our guests will be arriving soon.”
“I’d like to eat here. I don’t want to meet your guests
“I’m afraid you have no choice. If you don’t do as I tell you, I’ll get some of the girls to help you dress,” he said in a satiny tone. “I want you to look perfect this evening. You’ll be the envy of all the women and the men will drool with wanting you.”
“I don’t want a bunch of men drooling over me,” she said angrily.
“Well, in a manner of speaking they’ll be drooling. Get dressed, Becky, or you’ll leave me no choice but to use force.”
Becky shivered. When Gavin produced a gun from his pocket, fear settled in the pit of her stomach. Was he capable of murder?
“I’ll get some of the girls in here to get you ready, since you won’t obey,” he said.
“Don’t bother. I’ll dress.”
“Good girl. Wear the white gown,” he said while opening the walk-in closet and reappearing with a long white dress. “You’ll find accessories in the drawers.”
Becky yanked the dress out of his hands and started to walk into the closet but he blocked her.
“No. You’ll dress right here.”
The gun pressed into her stomach so she slowly backed away from him. Looking at his crazed eyes she realized she was dealing with a very disturbed man, not only sexually but in other ways as well. Without looking at him she turned her back to him and peeled off the top and shorts.
“Your panties, too. There are G-string panties in the chest of drawers.”
Before she had a chance to walk to the chest of drawers, Gavin cornered her against the bed. Poking the gun into her navel he forced her back until she fell backward onto the bed. Her breathing became short panting gasps, but not from arousal. It was fear that caused her chest to heave, making her nipples hard and her clit ache. But not from wanting the cock he produced.
“I’ve waited a long time for this,” Gavin said hoarsely. Her fear turned him on. He loved a good fight.
Becky tried to keep her legs together but he roughly parted them. His hands were on her cleft examining, feeling and probing.
“Have you ever looked to see what Raphael accomplished?” he asked.
“No. I don’t want to see.”
“You must. Come here!” he yanked her off the bed and pushed her toward the tall mirrors and onto the floor. “Open your legs!”
When she didn’t do as he told her, Gavin opened her legs. “Isn’t that pretty?”
Tiny gold rings shimmered on the inside of her cleft on each lip. Below them a row of red rosebuds were tattooed. To Becky they resembled drops of blood. Just above her clitoris another gold ring, a dainty green stem and around her clitoris the fiery red petals of a larger rose bud. She felt his cock pulse against her naked shoulders.
Roughly he pulled her to her feet. “Lie face down over the edge of the bed!” he ordered.
“No! You can’t take me like that. You’ll rip me apart!” she shouted in a quivering voice.
“Don’t worry. You’ll not shed a drop of blood.”
The gun poked her in the back of her neck. Reluctantly she did as she was told and buried her face into the black quilt. His fingers were rough. They entered her vagina then her anus. Suddenly she felt something cold inside her anus and she knew it was the nozzle of the gun. Oh, God, he’s going to kill me if I don’t do what he wants, she thought.
He spread her legs wide until she felt as if she were doing the splits. Soft laughter resembled the laughter of a madman as he prodded and poked with the gun. It hurt. She heard a soft click and held her breath. Surely he wouldn’t kill her? “Gavin, what about the party? The guests?” she asked. “You’re spoiling my make-up.”
“The guests can wait and you can fix your face. Lie still,” he grunted. “I’ve had second thoughts. The best part of all this will come later and after that—you’ll be begging me.”
She felt him pull the gun out of her anus and replacing it with the tip of his cock. The nozzle of the gun now poked inside her vagina. Holding her breath she waited for the tearing invasion, but instead he placed his cock between the cheeks of her bum. His hands squeezed her buttocks together so tight that she felt his nails dig into her flesh. Within seconds she heard him grunt and felt hot liquid spill onto her back. It was over.
But for how long?
“Now you can get dressed,” Gavin ordered. “Wipe that stuff off your back first.”
Becky stood up and flew to the bathroom. Hardly looking at the luxurious black and white tiled room she spotted the tub in the floor. It was filled with bubbling water. Not caring what Gavin would say she walked down the steps into the water and sank into it up to her neck. As she expected, he was in the bathroom in seconds.
“Are you nuts? People are arriving, Becky. Get out and get dressed.”
The water had acted like soothing balm on her aching clit and anus. The tattoos had healed, the pierced skin was close to healing but Gavin’s assault had aggravated the areas and it smarted.
Without a word she climbed out of the tub. On the bathroom counter stood a row of bottles. They contained shampoos, crème rinses and creams. She picked up a bottle of lotion and poured some of the pink liquid onto her fingers then gently applied it to the chafed areas.
Gavin watched her while silently dangling the pistol from his forefinger. Tonight, he thought. Tonight I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget and after that—I’ll have you exactly where I want you. You’ll be begging me for more.
Becky felt hatred for this man who was her husband. She dreaded the party and the thought of sleeping next to Gavin that night caused her to shiver violently. His image in the mirror showed her that he still toyed with the gun, his cock hung from the open zipper of his black dress pants, already stiffening.
She walked into the bedroom followed closely by Gavin who stood back while she stepped into the dress. It was beautiful, but flimsy. The shimmering material clung to her body. Both sides had long slits up to her waist exposing her hips. Two strips of material covered her breasts, but barely. Her back was completely naked and plunged to just below the crack of her bum.
“I can’t wear this! It’s indecent. It’s so sheer, you can see right through the material.”
“That’s the purpose of the dress. I want to make every man at the party squirm with desire and jealousy.”
“What will people think?”
“Nothing. You’ll see many dresses like it, believe me. Except they won’t be as beautiful and neither will the women in them be as beautiful as you.” He yanked open a drawer and produced a skimpy G-string panty. “Put this on.”
Becky pulled on the tiny scrap of material. It felt uncomfortable between her cleft.
“Now go fix your make-up. I’ll get the shoes,” said Gavin and disappeared into
the closet.
Becky’s eyes flew to the door to see the key missing from the lock. She was locked in. Captive. Walking to the mirror she inspected the image in it. Her breasts showed clearly through the gossamer thin material, her nipples straining against it. It felt soft, soothing against her skin but it was too revealing, resembling more a negligee for a wedding night. The small triangle of the G-string hardly hid anything. It stopped just above her clitoris. She turned around and examined the back of the dress. Just like the front, she could see her buttocks through the material. She might as well be naked.
Gavin came out of the closet carrying a matching pair of very high-heeled shoes. “How come you haven’t started your make-up?”
“Gavin, I can’t wear this. I might as well be naked.”
“You’ll wear it. Now get a move on and take the g-string off while you’re at it. I prefer you completely naked. The white patch in the front looks weird.”
With her eyes glued to the gun he pointed at her she sat in front of the dressing table and gazed at the girl in the mirror. “It doesn’t even look like me,” she said softly as she fixed her eye make-up and lipstick while trying to stop the trembling of her fingers.
“How would you know? You don’t remember anything. Of course it looks like you. Soon, your former life will come back to you and all this will seem very normal.”
“I don’t think so,” she said quietly trying to calm her nerves.
“You’ll see. You look perfect. Now one last touch.” He walked to a painting and took it off the wall to expose a safe.
In a glance, Becky saw a pile of cash inside the safe. If she could find out the combination…