Tour de Passion
The day had turned out hotter than she had anticipated. Much hotter.
Louise swiped at her beaded brow with the back of one hand, then clicked the
mountain bike down into the final refuge of first gear. She would have sworn -
loudly - if she could have spared the breath. What air she could take in rasped
in her throat, and the sweat ran freely along her spine, leaking down into the
tight valley between her aching buttocks. It was supposed to have been a gentle
ride in the countryside; it was quickly turning into a fight for survival.
She squinted into the distance. The top of the hill still looked another three
hundred yards away. It might as well have been three thousand. Her back
throbbed from being stooped over the handlebars for so long, and her thighs and
her calves felt like lead. How long had it been since she had last ridden the
damn thing? Twelve months? Eighteen? She had no idea her fitness level had
slipped so far.
"Oh, bollocks," she gasped finally. Defeat was better than death. She stopped
the bike and staggered off, letting the machine fall into the verge as she
dropped to her haunches, panting raggedly. The heat shimmers rising up from the
scorched tarmac made her feel vaguely nauseous. She closed her eyes, rocking
slowly back and forth as she listened to the pounding in her chest steady and
fade.
She stood up, shrugging the heavy rucksack from her shoulders. There was a
bottle of orange juice inside, its plastic sides slick with condensation.
Louise wiped the container deliciously across her forehead and the top of her
cleavage.
She surveyed her surroundings as she gulped down the juice. The hill top - so
bloody close - seemed to mock her. She looked away. Far below, the small
hamlet she had passed through nearly thirty minutes ago nestled inconspicuously
in the rich green of the valley floor.
The juice was all gone. Louise replaced the empty bottle in her rucksack.
During her scrutiny, she had spied a narrow gap in the tall hedgerow. When she
peered through, she saw a pasture field, luxuriant with warm, lush grass. It
looked ideal, the very sort of spot she had envisaged that morning when the idea
for the bike ride had first occurred to her. The opening looked just wide
enough for the bike.
Louise made her decision. Sod the hill. She tossed her rucksack through the
opening, then pushed the bike after it.
It was perfect, easily the highest piece of land around. With its location and
its long grass, it was impossible to imagine that she would be overlooked, and
if she moved the bike far enough from the opening in the hedgerow, she doubted
anyone would ever guess she was there.
She wheeled the bike into the middle of the field and dropped it on its side.
From her rucksack she pulled out a plain blue travel rug and laid it over the
grass. She sat down, and then pulled out a chilled half-bottle of Ni?rsteiner
with the cork already replaced by a plastic stopper, a plastic beaker, a tube of
sun-oil and a dog-eared Black Lace novel.
Then, with a last glance around her, she stripped off her sweat-soaked cotton
vest and thigh length shorts. Clad in only a lacy white bra and panties, she
stretched herself out across the already warm blanket, and began rubbing the
smooth oil into her hot flesh. Finally, with a pair of battered RayBans in
place, she opened the paperback at its bookmark, sipping the Ni?rsteiner as she
began to read:
' . . . . Doug waited fearfully for whatever was coming next. It was taking
longer for his eyes to adjust to
the darkness than he had expected.
"Take off your clothes." There was a menacing bite to the woman's voice.
Doug began unbuttoning his shirt. The cool night air felt good against his bare
skin. He did not bother trying to peer into the gloom to find somewhere to put
the shirt; he simply dropped it to the floor. Then he kicked off his tan deck
shoes, and slid the creased chinos down his long, muscled legs.
Naked, he waited for her, his breathing sounding harsh and ragged in his own
ears.
"Put your hands out in front of you." The woman's voice sounded closer now,
just a few feet from where he stood trembling. The menacing tone was more
evident. Doug stretched out his arms.
"Wrists together," the woman ordered.
Almost the moment he complied, there was a kiss of cold metal against his skin.
The double click of
the handcuffs snapping shut was almost simultaneous.
"Hey!" Doug instinctively tried jerking his hands apart. The bracelets were
locked tight; there wasn't even enough room for him to twist his wrists around
inside them. The steel bit painfully into his flesh.
"On your knees."
"Look-"
Pain exploded behind Doug's right knee, as the sharply tapered point of a shoe
drove into the vulnerable flesh. Doug yelled out and stumbled forward.
"On your knees!"
Doug turned in the direction of her voice. "What the hell do you-"
"Quiet."
"Listen you bitch, you'd better-"
The swoosh of a whip cut through the room, and white-hot flame bloomed across
Doug's buttocks. He screamed full bloodedly, falling forward onto his bound
wrists.
The woman's voice appeared next to her ear. "I told you to be quiet." Doug
could almost taste the vivid bouquet of her perfume, and there was a strong hint
of peppermint that trailed after her words. Doug licked his lips and said
nothing.
"That's better," she said. Her footsteps moved away, and then a light switch
clicked. The floor space surrounding Doug flared brilliantly beneath the beam
of an overhead spotlight. Doug twisted, trying to get a glimpse his captor.
Strong fingers entwined themselves in his hair. His head was savagely twisted
back around to face forwards. "Don't look for me," the woman hissed. "You'll
see me soon enough."
Something skimmed in front of his eyes and Doug felt a thick band of leather
wrap tightly across the front of his throat. The woman swiftly fastened it at
the back of his neck. Doug glanced down in time to see her clip the end of a
thick webbing dog lead to the collar.
"What's that-"
The whip's scream sang out again, and new pain bloomed across his shoulders. He
screamed again.
"I thought you would learn more quickly than this. I was obviously wrong."
Doug heard her stalking around behind him. Her voice suddenly returned, this
time a sensual purr beside his right ear. "I've already told you to . . . "
Suddenly, she screamed, making him flinch dramatically. "BE QUIET!"
Doug raged, his head ringing, but the curse that had risen automatically to his
lips stayed locked behind them. He did not relish the prospect of another kiss
from her riding crop.
The woman's voice changed again, her tone once more soft, sensual. "I
appreciate that you have questions, a need for understanding. But all you need
to know right now is that you are here for one reason, and one reason alone. To
service me."
Despite the pain dancing over his nerves, Doug felt his cock twitch.
She continued talking, still out of sight somewhere behind him. "Whatever I
want, whatever I desire, you will do it. Without hesitation. You are here to
satisfy me, and you will achieve that by obeying me. Do you understand?"
Doug nodded. "Yes."
"From this moment on, when you speak to me, you will address me as mistress. Do
you understand?"
Doug said nothing. After a few seconds of silence, he felt the spider-like
touch of the riding crop against his right buttock. The narrow leather dragged
across his skin, until it lay between his cheeks, the wide tip of the crop
resting against the underside of his balls.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes . . . mistress."
"Good." It was the first time that he had heard her sound pleased . . . . '
Louise laid the paperback face down in the grass. The afternoon sun was
brilliant, forcing her to squint despite the RayBans. She rolled onto her
belly, squirming sensually against the warm blanket. Her limbs felt relaxed and
fluid, and a subdued wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Sunshine was
not the only thing raising her temperature.
She poured herself a second beaker of Ni?rsteiner, and rubbed a fresh glaze of
oil across her newly exposed flesh. Then she drew the paperback back towards
her:
'. . . . "Look at me, Doug," the woman said. "The time for you to behold your
mistress is finally at hand."
The dog lead lifted Doug's head back towards her voice. His eyes widened before
the vision that confronted him; his trembling increased, but his cock stiffened
rapidly.
The woman stood regally before him, little more than five feet away. With her
feet splayed shoulder-width
apart, her posture was a blend of balance and mastery. Her hands, sheathed in
gloves that reached to her
elbows, rested lightly on her hips. The thin black riding crop lay flush
against the outside of her right thigh.
Her countenance was dramatic; the hair, dark and glistening with thick oil,
slicked back from her face; the heavy black eye shadow and mascara giving her an
almost Chinese appearance; the soft, full lips, shaded a brilliant red, gleaming
with untold possibility.
The ebony attire provided an exquisite contrast to the woman's ivory skin. She
wore no bra, but instead
a lacy, black blouse that was so completely diaphanous, it left her beautifully
proportioned breasts unveiled for all to see. The pale pink nipples that capped
the soft globes were already stiff. Doug wondered if that was purely the result
of their exposure to the cool night air.
Fishnet stockings attached to the wide suspender belt she wore about her waist
enveloped her legs. The deep tops served to accentuate the creamy flesh of her
thighs. She wore no panties, and Doug observed that her mound was almost
totally bare, only the merest tuft of raven hair pointing towards the mystery of
her sex. A pair of black leather ankle boots with stiletto heels completed her
outfit.
Slowly, Doug looked back up at her face.
The woman smiled down at him. "Do your eyes relish the image they behold? Does
the spectacle of my body entice your senses, Douglas?"
"Yes, mistress."
The woman crouched down before him. Her eyes searched along the length of his
body. She nodded with satisfaction. "Yes, I can see that it does. Your body
is telling me truths that your mouth never could."
She stood back up. The woman regarded him with disdain for a moment, and then
turned away, moving gracefully towards the rocking chair at the side of the
room. She dragged it towards him and then sat down, her thighs demurely
together. With great lasciviousness, she spread her legs wide, the beauty of
her sex finally revealed to his hungry eyes.
She trailed the fingertips of one hand lightly across her mound. "What is it
that you want, Doug?"
When the words came, they rasped against his throat like sandpaper. "I want
whatever you require me to want, mistress."
"Excellent." She lifted her thighs, so that her legs hung down over the arms of
the rocking chair. Now she was utterly exposed to him. She pulled on the dog
lead, drawing him forwards on his hands and knees. "I want you to taste me,
Douglas. I want you to take nourishment from my cunt."
Doug crawled between her outstretched thighs. His wrists ached from the
handcuffs, and the deep welts across his shoulders and buttocks still simmered,
but he crawled towards her unconditionally.
"Not so hastily," she breathed. "Slowly, Douglas. Slowly. Savour each moment.
They may never come
again."
Agonisingly, he inched towards her. An enticing aroma of jasmine and musk
surrounded her loins. He drew the scent fervently into his lungs, drunk on its
absolute femininity.
"You adore my perfume, don't you Douglas? I can see it in your eyes. I know
that you're a man who appreciates the pure, natural scent of a woman aroused."
Doug nodded distractedly, almost helpless with desire. His cock, swollen with
lust, felt longer and thicker and harder than it ever had. He longed to bury it
deep within his mistress, to fill her completely. He wanted her to endure the
uncontrollable pulsating of his shaft between the folds of her secret flesh,
their bodies merged within the throes of orgasm. He yearned for her to feel his
hot seed flowing into her womb.
Doug's face was only inches from where her lips of her sex gaped slyly.
The woman's hands flashed out, grasping his hair. "No touching. Not yet. Just
look for now."
With excruciating slowness, she used the dog lead to move his captive head
around the space between her thighs, searching her own flesh with his eyes.
Her smooth labia looked plump, swollen, distended by passion. At the head of
her cleft, her bud-like clitoris peeked coyly out from behind its delicate hood.
Doug longed to suckle on the sensitive nub, to draw it into his mouth, to flick
the tip of his tongue back and forth across it until she screamed in ecstasy.
The soft, fleshy opening of her sex already gleamed and glistened with her
desire. Doug ached to sink
his tongue deep within her, to gorge himself on her juices.
She spoke as though having read his thoughts. "You like the taste of a woman's
lust, don't you, Douglas?"
"Yes, mistress," he groaned.
"Then enjoy it, Doug. Savour it. Savour your mistress." And with that, she
drew his eager mouth into
her . . . . '
Louise dropped the paperback to the grass. Her loins tingled sensuously from
the story. Barely aware of what she was doing, she rolled onto her back, and
slipped her left hand inside her lacy bra, cupping her right breast. Her
fingers sought out the stiffening nipple, circling and flicking the sensitive
peak. Her free hand trailed across her warm belly, stroking and kneading the
flesh as it travelled downwards.
She moaned quietly, as her hand slid over her panties and onto the firm flanks
of her thighs. Then, almost of its own volition, it slipped down between her
inner thighs. She pressed her hand hard against her mound, lifting her loins
back against her unyielding palm.
Not caring where she was, she slipped her hand inside the front of her panties.
She dragged her fingertips through the lush hair that adorned her mound,
massaging the succulent flesh at the top of her sex. She felt herself growing
moister.
Louise withdrew the hand from her panties, and brought it up to her mouth. Her
tongue lashed the tips
of her middle three fingers, liberally coating them with saliva. Both hands
slid back across her body. She
hooked the fingers of her left hand into the gusset of her panties, and after
the merest hesitation, pulled the thin material to one side.
Despite the sun's heat, the fresh air felt cool against her burning sex. She
ran her fingers over her
swollen vulva, allowing her middle finger to draw a tentative path down through
her cleft. She was already slick with lust, and she paused to stir her finger
around the taut, wet entrance to her sex.
Holding her lips apart, Louise ran the tips of two fingers around the outside of
her clitoris, scarcely touching the quivering bud. She forced herself to move
with slowly, teasing herself mercilessly. She knew that once she succumbed to
her desire and touched her clitoris, she would not be able to stop until she
orgasmed.
Her body felt light, drifting away, and the sweltering heat allowed her mind to
follow.
She saw herself as the mistress in the story, delighting in the velvet flickers
of her slave's tongue against her clitoris. She imagined its tip sliding up and
down her soaking cleft, tracing the very edges of her sex, before slowly sinking
deliciously inside her, fucking her like a tender, miniature cock.
Louise gasped, and slipped one hand back up to her mouth, her tongue flickering
over her fingertips. Two of her fingers became her slave's manhood, and she
took him gratefully inside her mouth, her memory skilfully recalling the
unmistakable taste and odour of cock.
She fucked her own mouth languidly, her fingers now her slave's long, fat cock,
slowly slipping back and forth across her skilful tongue. She was still his
mistress though. Would she allow him to use her so completely, sucking his
prick ever more desperately until it finally discharged its creamy load into her
waiting mouth? She imagined the aroma, the taste of his orgasm, fantasised the
sensation of his come sliding down her throat.
Or would she slip his manhood from between her lips, guide it downward towards
her thighs? She pictured the underside of his shaft dragging over her breasts,
her belly, her mound, until the bulbous head rested at the entrance to her sex.
If she closed her eyes, she could see it nuzzling at her flesh, eager to feel
the yielding walls of her cunt. And then, holding the wide base of his shaft,
she pulled him inside her, crying out as inch after inch of hard cock embedded
itself deep within her.
Louise's fingers vibrated over her clitoris. Her orgasm simmered, boiled, and
then erupted, causing her to cry aloud. As a result, she did not hear the men
approaching until they were upon her, and one of them spoke.
"Well, well," said a deep voice.
Louise's eyes flew open. There were three of them, standing in a tight half
circle at her feet. It looked as though they had also been cycling, for all
three wore sweat-soaked T-shirts and thigh-hugging Lycra shorts.
The three men stared at her silently, seemingly in awe, and then she remembered
just how exposed her body was. Her hands snatched her panties back across her
sex. But as she reached up to adjust her bra, the man who had spoken said,
"There's no need for you to do that."
She stared at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Then, instinctively,
her eyes dropped, and she saw the long, thick bulge in the front of his shorts.
In the front of all their shorts.
Their arousal was evident, outlined in bright, clinging Lycra. As she watched,
one of the men slipped a hand down over his bulge, and began kneading it
restlessly.
Understanding flooded through her. She suddenly felt afraid; no, terrified.
Half-naked, isolated, unable to be seen. She had told no one she was even
taking the bike out, let alone where she was going. And yet somehow . . .
Louise shook her head fractionally. Was it possible that beneath her fear,
another, even more frightening emotion lurked? One that longed to be quenched?
The man who had spoken walked steadily towards her. Drops of sweat across his
shaven head. His unabashed baldness, together with his smooth, olive skin and
the tight goatee beard that he wore, gave him a roguish, piratical appearance.
Ropes of sinewy muscle sheathed his arms and legs. He looked hard and capable.
"You seem to be a woman in need of some satisfaction." He bowed fractionally.
"And that's something that I-" He glanced around at his two companions. "I
mean to say, that's something that 'we' can guarantee you."
Louise looked at the faces of the other men. One was tall, with jet-black hair
that reached almost to his shoulders. The other man was shorter, his
light-brown hair tightly-cropped. They looked as well-muscled as the pirate.
Their eyes followed her avidly.
The shock of discovery seemed to have locked away her vocabulary for protest.
Even though it was pointless, Louise inched backwards across the blanket, eyes
fixed on the pirate as he advanced confidently towards her. The bulge inside
his cycling shorts looked enormous, much bigger than the bulges of his
companions.
The other two men came silently, swiftly flanking her, closing off her escape
route. They rubbed their hands across their loins, their mouths damp despite
the baking heat.
Louise panted, partly in dread . . . and partly, she feared, in anticipation.
The pirate knelt at her feet. His strong hands grasped her ankles and parted
her legs as though they
belonged to a child. He slipped forward onto his elbows, his face inches from
where, just a few minutes ago,
she had pictured her slave's.
From somewhere she found the strength to fight. "No," she yelled out, rolling
onto her side. She tried pistoning her feet into her attacker's face, but the
pirate's hands were like steel bands around her ankles, easily holding her lower
body in place. He laughed, then looked up at his friends.
"Timothy. Neil. If you would be so good . . . "
At once, the men on either side of her knelt down and seized her wrists. They
forced her hands back down against the blanket, pinning her to the ground.
Louise looked along the length of her damp body into the pirate's steel-grey
eyes.
"Please," she said. "Please, don't do this."
"In a moment," the pirate smiled, "you'll be wondering why you ever said that.
In fact, you'll beg me not to stop. I promise you."
He moved over her body, swiftly slipping his knees over hers. Now his body
weight, transferred
through his legs, kept her legs from moving at all. From the pouch around his
waist, the pirate pulled out a small pocket knife. He opened the main blade,
and slipped the cold, jagged steel beneath the side strap of Louise's panties.
Louise stopped struggling.
"I hope these aren't your favourite pair," he said, his cool gaze lifting to
meet her own fearful stare. The blade flashed, and the thin material parted,
sliced cleanly through. The pirate deliberately moved the blade across to the
other side of her panties, and slashed through the material there as well.
Louise shivered.
The pirate slowly closed the knife. Gripping the front of her panties in both
hands, the pirate eased the ruined lingerie away from her loins, baring her sex
to all. He lifted the panties to his face, and , eyes closed, he inhaled her
secret aroma.
"Hmmm. Wonderful."
"Let me go," Louise said as quietly and evenly as she could.
The pirate slipped both the knife and her panties back into his pouch, and
zipped it up. He studied her in silence for a time, gently brushing her mound
with the back of his hand. Every touch sent bursts of static shimmering through
Louise's limbs.
"Very beautiful," he said, as though her words had not registered with him. "A
little too much hair, perhaps, but very beautiful."
"Please," Louise whimpered. "Please, don't." But her voice sounded weak,
uncertain, even to herself.
"Are you sure you don't want me to?" The pirate's eyes twinkled. "You don't
sound very certain." His face dipped towards her, until she felt his warm
breath upon her sex. "You've gotten yourself quite aroused, haven't you? I
wonder if it's possible to add to what you've started?"
His tongue dragged a sweet path from the entrance to her sex up through her
soaking cleft, and Louise felt the air leave her lungs in a warm rush. As the
tip of his tongue neared her clitoris, it veered away to the side, eluding her
aching bud. Louise gasped, partly through pleasure, partly through
disappointment.
"It seems that it is possible," the pirate breathed.
His skilful tongue swirled across her labia, diving, darting to all the corners
of her sex. Louise felt the juices oozing from the walls of her sex, her
half-subdued passions building rapidly once more in spite of herself. The
potency of her struggles against the men gripping her arms began seeping away.
The pirate's tongue traced around her clitoris, its feathery touch never quite
touching the sensitive nub. As though her body were acting of its own accord,
her loins lifted smoothly towards the stranger's face, desperate to fell his
tongue fully against her.
Suddenly he struck, a Cobra-swift attack that grazed the very tip of her
clitoris. Louise moaned throatily, as much from gratitude as from passion.
Then the tongue slipped away once more, descending along her cleft, circling the
fleshy entrance of her sex.
"She tastes delectable," the pirate said to his companions.
Louise cried out as the stiffened tongue penetrated her drenched sex. It fucked
her steadily, a diminutive cock-substitute that only hinted at the pleasures to
follow, never able to fulfil the hunger itself, serving only to
stoke her desire even further.
The men on either side of her released their vice-like grips upon her wrists,
and the blood began to flow painfully into Louise's hands once more. She
realised why they had released her. They knew it was safe now: her struggles
had surrendered to the experience.
Even as she thought this, Tim and Neil lifted her submissive hands towards
themselves. Louise gasped as the unmistakable hardness of their cocks - still
snared inside their Lycra shorts - pressed firmly against her palms.
To be taken by more than one man; that was forbidden pleasure, an ancient
taboo. But it was not a concept unfamiliar to her. On some occasions, in some
of the darker fantasies she toyed with, she had dreamt of gorging herself on a
trio, half a dozen, even a dozen virile men. The sensual paradox of being the
user and the used, the abuser and the abused. To experience a succession of
ever willing cocks, each one devoted to pleasuring her beyond herself. To be
the centre of lustful indulgence, receiving ultimate pleasure, and returning it
to a harem of lovers.
Now the reality of such an encounter was at hand. And though it frightened her,
she could not prevent a part of herself from being thrilled by it too.
Louise grasped the rigid shafts on either side of her, languidly caressing them
through the thin Lycra. The tip of her tongue slipped out to trace a damp path
along her trembling lips. Hesitantly, she slipped her hands upwards, reaching
for the waistbands of their shorts.
Tim and Neil grinned knowingly at each other, before easing the tight Lycra
shorts down over their narrow hips and tight buttocks. Louise's thoughts
swirled crazily as their cocks jutted out arrogantly, proudly, for her
delectation.
Tim - the dark haired man - had a smooth, tanned prick. His pubic hair was as
dark and luxuriant as that on his head. Louise reached tentatively towards him.
She rolled the generous foreskin back, gradually revealing the blood-flushed
cockhead beneath. As she slipped the thin skin back into place, a glistening
drop of dew appeared in the tiny slit. Tim's head lolled back on his shoulders
in mute satisfaction.
Neil was circumcised, not quite so long or wide as his friend. His neatly
trimmed pubic hair was fine, almost blonde in the harsh sunlight. His was the
first circumcised cock Louise had ever touched. Her fingers slipped over him,
her thumb and forefinger instinctively ringing his shaft. She moved her hand
softly back and forth along his throbbing tool.
"God, yes," he hissed.
A hand cushioned the back of her head, turning her face back towards Tim. She
knew what he wanted from her, what he expected. Trance-like, she allowed him to
guide her mouth towards him.
The bulbous cockhead pressed insistently against her still-closed lips, smearing
pre-come across her face. A lingering part of her still resisted, but much of
her ached to taste the stranger's penis. Tentatively, the tip of her tongue
extended from between her lips. The pre-come tasted smooth, ambrosial. Tempted
further, her tongue lapped at the delicate folds of skin on the underside of the
head.
Tim groaned deeply. His fingers entwined themselves in her hair, as though he
feared she might still try to deny him. Louise's tongue swirled deftly around
his strained cockhead, tracing a path along the prominent veins on the underside
of his shaft.
Neil reached out to cup her left breast, moulding the soft flesh restlessly.
His hand eased inside her bra, his careful fingers seeking out her nipple. He
pulled gently at the hard flesh, drawing it upwards, outwards. Tim's hand
followed suite. His smooth fingernails drew gentle lines across the swell of
her right breast.
Her tongue indulging one cock, her hand pleasuring another, Louise urged her
loins upwards to meet the pirate's mouth. Silently, she begged him with her
body to lash her clitoris with his tongue, to make her come and come and come.
Eventually, his mouth moved up over her sex, and then at last, there was the
delicious sensation of her clit being drawn between the pirate's lips.
"Yes," she gasped, as his artful tongue played across her bud. Almost bursting
with the irresistible pleasure he was giving her, her mouth slowly opened,
finally affording full access to Tim's impatient cock. His thick shaft slipped
eagerly between her lips, and, still gripping her hair, he began to guide her
mouth back and forth over his cock.
Louise could do little more than emit fractured moans as Tim fucked her mouth.
He reached for her hand again and pressed it into place it around his shaft.
Louise slipped her grip downwards, pausing to cup the smooth, swollen sack
between his thighs. Her fingertips tickled the soft, wrinkled skin, before
reaching back towards the sensitive flesh between his balls and his anus. Some
dark part of her longed to slide a finger up inside his tight, puckered hole.
Neil's hand trailed down over her shoulder blades, and there was the faint snap
of her bra being unclipped. The flimsy garment was pulled from her shoulders,
leaving her utterly naked, totally defenceless before the lust of three
strangers.
Neil's head dipped forwards, and he greedily captured her left nipple between
his lips. He suckled upon her hungrily, his tongue winding itself around and
around her aching peak. Louise's second climax was building. She closed her
eyes, waiting for her lustful tremblings to blossom and join in an orgasmic
eruption.
At the very moment she felt herself being propelled beyond the edge of control,
the pirate's tongue stopped.
Louise dragged Tim's cock from her mouth. "Don't stop. Not now!" she begged.
"Do it. Please!"
The pirate smiled wolfishly. "Didn't I tell you that you'd beg me not to stop?"
He discarded the
pouch about his waist, stripped his T-shirt over his head and threw it aside.
Then he stood, and in a single
movement, thrust his shorts down his thighs. His thick, curved manhood sprang
out, a sexual sprinter coming out of the blocks.
"I think we're both ready for this now," he said, caressing his monstrous cock
with both hands.
He kicked the shorts from his ankles, and moved swiftly between Louise's
outstretched thighs. He held his cock against her, wiping the cockhead across
every inch of her sex, much as he had with his tongue before. It glanced
against her clitoris.
"Oh yes!" she cried.
"You want to be taken, don't you?" the pirate snarled. "You want me to fuck
you, to fuck you hard. Isn't that true?"
Louise nodded, teeth embedded deep in her bottom lip.
"Say it then. I want you to tell me what you want."
Louise stayed silent.
"Tell me, or I'll leave you like this. Unfulfilled. Aching. Do you want
that?"
Almost imperceptibly, Louise shook her head.
"Then say it."
Still Louise said nothing. The pirate's cockhead continued to taunt and tease
her sex. She yearned to
have him inside her.
"Say it."
"Take me," she said in a hushed voice. She gazed into his eyes. "Fuck me.
Fuck me hard. As hard as you can."
The broad tip of his cock nudged between the moist outer lips of her cunt.
Louise closed her eyes, abandoning herself to sensation.
Breathless, she waited for the stranger to fuck her.
Tim turned her mouth back towards his shining cock. As her lips slipped back
over his straining cockhead, the pirate thrust forward, so that both men entered
her simultaneously.
A million nerve cells screamed in rapture as the pirate invaded her cunt, and
Louise cried out with them. Never before had she felt so stretched, so utterly
filled. The pirate seemed to slide into her forever, until she felt the end of
him press hard against her womb. Then an incredible feeling of loss as he
backed out of her.
She had barely drawn breath when he entered her again. The pirate's strokes
were long and hard and fast, affording no tenderness to her cunt. She didn't
care. This was how she wanted it, how she needed it. To have no choice, other
than to accept, to receive. She closed her eyes, crying out in ecstasy as the
rampant cock pistoned in and out of her flesh.
Tim and Neil shuffled closer on either side of her head. Louise frantically
stroked Neil's shaft as Tim's
plunged in and out of her mouth. Delirium engulfed her, her senses overwhelmed
by the pleasure she was receiving and bestowing.
She felt Tim's cock slipping away from her, and a second hand upon her head,
turning her face back towards Neil. Then the overwhelming sensation of having
another stranger's cock press its way between her lips.
The pirate lifted her ankles, holding her thighs high and wide to open her even
further to his thrusts. His
pubis pressed hard against her engorged clitoris as he drove himself into her.
Louise screamed, and then she was being torn away by her raging climax, and the
bright sun dimmed as though covered by sudden cloud.
Louise's panting, sweat-slicked body collapsed back against the sodden blanket.
Every morsel of her
fear and tension had been consumed, obliterated by her lust, by her thundering
orgasm. Distantly, her mind acknowledged the pirate's cock withdrawing from her
sex. Powerful hands took hold her waist, rolling her onto her belly. The same
hands pulled her hips up and back, arranging her so that she was kneeling with
her backside raised provocatively in the air.
A pause, and then she gasped as someone new entered her from behind. Her
still-twitching flesh accepted the intruder gratefully, and she looked over her
shoulder to see Tim, his face rapt with ecstasy as he began to fuck her with
long, languid strokes. His fingernails dragged across her ass, biting into the
fleshy globes, prying them apart. Louise knew that his eyes were fixed to the
point of their coupling, watching his own cock, smeared with her juices, sliding
in and out of her. She wailed as Tim started slapped her buttocks, each sting
blending into the mass of sensation her body had become.
Hands lifted her face to confront the pirate's cock once more. She grasped the
broad shaft eagerly, drawing the massive helmet, all that she could hope to
manage, inside her mouth. She relished the flavour of her own juices, coupled
with the pirate's pre-come which leaked copiously from his slit.
Tim's hand slipped down over her belly and between her thighs. His fingers
sought her clitoris, manipulating it in time with the long strokes of his cock.
Each time he entered her to the hilt, his heavy balls came to rest lecherously
against her mound. She whimpered steadily, rocking backwards to meet every
thrust.
Neil and the pirate knelt before her, her masters and her slaves, sharing the
pleasures of her mouth. They reached out to caress her breasts, cupping and
kneading her flesh, circling and pinching the rigid nipples.
"Oh God, I'm coming again," Louise wailed, and her mouth slipped away from the
two pricks as she collapsed against the blanket. Tim followed her down, his
cock still thrusting powerfully into her sex. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled
her tight against his chest, rolling them over onto their right sides without
missing a stroke.
Even as she shook from the violence of her third climax, Neil was stretching
himself out alongside her, his face to hers. His muscled chest pressed against
her breasts, his cockhead probing towards her throbbing clitoris. There hardly
seemed to be a gap. As Tim's prick slipped away from between her soaking labia,
Neil's cock penetrated her, as though drawn inside by her sudden emptiness.
Tim's shaft started thrusting up and down the narrow valley between her
buttocks. She waited expectantly for him to roll away, to join the pirate in
feeding his cock to her mouth. Instead, she felt his cock slip lower, its head
pressing insistently against her tightly puckered anus.
"No . . . wait . . . " The words were cut off as Neil's sly tongue slipped over
one of her nipples, and his fingers somehow found a path down between their
sweating torsos to her clitoris.
Tim seemed not have heard her. He moistened his cockhead with his own saliva,
and then Louise's world turned quiet and grey as his prick pressed its way
inside her, violating her, the one place no man had ever been. The sensation
was overwhelming, an exquisite blend of pleasure and pain and incredible
fullness. A myriad of carnal sensations erupted from the narrow ridge of flesh
that separated her sex and her anus, as it became wedged between the two
thrusting cocks.
"God, she's tight," Tim gasped.
Neil could only grunt in answer.
Louise's focus drifted towards the point of their triple union. She looked down
between her body and Neil's, staring in wonderment as Neil's shining cock slid
steadily in and out of her sex. All the time, the full length of Tim's cock
continued to thrust inside her ass. She was hardly aware of the pirate as he
stretched out on his side above her, his groin positioned next to her face.
She accepted his waiting cock into her mouth with barely a thought.
Tim seemed to realise her fascination, her desire to watch the uniqueness of
their joining. He slipped his hand under her knee, lifting her upper thigh so
she might glimpse the two cocks penetrating her over and over again.
Louise felt dizzy at the sight, transfixed by the image of the thick shafts
disappearing inside her, of the way their balls pressed together each time they
entered her fully. She squirmed blissfully before the sensation of two cocks,
separated by the merest expanse of skin, sliding back and forth against each
other inside her.
Gradually, their pace quickened; the sweat ran freely from their bodies as they
powered towards their climaxes.
"Don't come inside me," Louise gasped. "You mustn't . . . come inside me." She
could barely get the words out. It wasn't what she really wanted. She longed
to feel the uncontrollable twitching of their cocks, the hot sperm splashing
against her most intimate flesh, as they spent themselves inside her. With that
dark thought, her own orgasm began to flare.
The pirate stroked his shaft rapidly, masturbating himself into Louise's mouth.
"Didn't I tell you?" he gasped. "Didn't I tell you we'd satisfy you?"
Louise didn't answer, couldn't answer; her tongue was hard against the underside
of the pirate's shaft. First there was a flutter, and then a primal, rhythmic
pulsing. Warm, piquant come jetted into her mouth, and she grasped the pirate's
cock with her hand, urging him to satiate her thirst.
Tim and Neil cried out almost as one, their thrusting suddenly ragged in their
shared desire to reach completion. Louise fumbled her free hand towards the
point of their union, to force both of them from her flesh before they came.
But Tim caught her wrist, pulling it away, and then it was too late to get them
out, and she no longer cared.
Louise cried out as the first of Neil's seed jetted against her womb. His final
thrust ignited her own orgasm, which exploded through her loins just as Tim's
cock began to throb inside her ass, spurting its creamy load into her virgin
hole, exploding her beyond sense, and into rapture.
* * * * * * *
It seemed a long time before she moved. She sat up, winching at the tightness
of the skin across her shoulders. The sunburn would be sore tomorrow. For now
it just prickled maddeningly. She turned her head, not sure what to say to the
men, or how to say it.
She froze. There was no one there.
She looked around crazily. Apart from her bike, the pasture field was deserted.
Not a trace of the three strangers. She glanced down at herself, even more
bewildered. She was no longer naked. Her bra was on crookedly, the cups pulled
down to expose her breasts, and her panties had been drawn to one side.
She grabbed at the sides of her panties. The material was intact. No knife
cuts anywhere.
She slipped a hand down onto her sex. It was damp and trembling, but no more
than that. No more than any of the other times when she had lost herself in the
delights of some carnal fantasy.
Slowly, she reached over and picked up the paperback from where it had slipped
from her grasp.
"Good book," she said, smiling wryly.
