A Strict Seduction (5 page)

Tom's cock pressed against the ring of muscle between her bottom cheeks. She tensed momentarily, but then relaxed as he moved his erection into her. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of him entering her, pushing deep into the forbidden opening of her body. His body pressed against her backside and he was within her, his cock buried deep and her anus tight against the thick base of his hardness. She opened her eyes to gaze adoringly at Sarah's pussy, excited by the thought of what she was to do. She licked at it gently, knowing that she was to give her friend the pleasure she had stolen from Tom.

The taste of pussy filled her mouth, and it made her head swim with delight. She licked and sucked, exploring the folds of Sarah's sex, seeking out the wetness from within and rewarded with the sighs of pleasure that Sarah moaned. At the same time Tom was fucking her hard in the backside, his erection thick and strong and filling her completely.

They moved in unison, three bodies united in pleasure, Sarah moaning softly and playing with her own nipples while Patti fucked her with her mouth, and Tom holding Patti by the waist while he thrust his hardness in and out of Patti's tight anal hole. Sarah cried her orgasm first, shuddering as she climaxed into Patti's mouth. A moment later Tom climaxed, pumping his jism into Patti's backside as he clawed at her reddened, punished bottom. Finally Patti screamed her pleasure, her body an electric glow of ecstasy that seemed to radiate through the room.

Later, as Patti lay naked on the bed drifting in and out of sleep, she heard voices. The door to the bedroom was still ajar. She sat up weakly, her body still tingling with the afterglow of her orgasms, and listened.

‘You see,' Sarah was saying, ‘I was right, wasn't I?'

Tom's reply was indistinct.

‘From the moment I first set eyes on her,' Sarah continued, ‘I knew she'd be the one.'

Patti lay back, confused. The conversation continued but none of it made any sense. But it did not matter, she decided, because now she knew that Sarah and Tom would always be there.

Family Fortune

The window was open and the slight breeze parted the net curtains, letting the unfiltered light flood through the room. Stephie stood at the window, biting back the tears, her mood in stark contrast to the pureness of the summer day. Outside the sunlight sparkled on the silver blue of the pool, beams of light reflected back from the unbroken surface, dancing with the light ripples from the breeze. Beyond the pool were the grounds, beautifully arranged gardens, fountains, gravel paths through the shrubbery and then, right at the end, the heavy border of trees that marked the high walls that enclosed the estate.

In every way it was the ideal country mansion, at it's very best in the still afternoon light of a perfect summer's day. So fine, and yet at it's heart something rotten. Stephie turned away, dazzled by the light that flashed so vividly from the pool. She turned and found that her stepsister, Ariana, was standing in the doorway, watching her closely.

‘Don't look so unhappy,' Ariana said softly, her own voice tinged with unhappiness. She wore a very simple white cotton dress, and in the sharp light it was clear that she was naked underneath; her nipples were dark disks against the thin cotton and the join of her thighs marked by a dark crease.

‘Why shouldn't I look unhappy?' Stephie demanded, her voice quivering with hurt. Her dark eyes flashed angrily, and then she felt the tears well up, ready to cascade down her pretty face.

‘Is it so bad?' Ariana asked, taking a step into the room. ‘Is Timothy so repulsive?'

Stephie looked at her sister uncomprehendingly, as though seeing for the first time a new side of her character revealed, a side that was dark and nasty. ‘He's your husband,' Stephie cried, ‘don't you think it wrong that he wants to make love to me? Do you really see nothing wrong in that?'

Ariana turned away for a moment. ‘Don't make it sound so awful,' she whispered. ‘He's an excellent lover, you'll enjoy it, you both will.'

Stephie ran across the room and threw herself on the bed, sobbing her heart out. She had never wanted Ariana to marry Timothy, no matter how long his family tree or no matter how big his fortune. There was something corrupting about him, as though he were consciously trying to live up to the image of a decadent aristocrat. His latest idea, bedding wife and sister at the same time, was one of a long line of such escapades.

There had been the time when Stephie and Ariana had walked in on him and the gardener, a tall muscular Spaniard. Timothy had merely smiled and invited them to join in, though as his prick was deep between the Spaniard's backside it wasn't exactly clear what he had wanted them to do. Stephie and Ariana had backed away, red-faced and embarrassed, but later that evening Timothy had regaled them with the story of his seduction of the Spaniard. Stephie could still see the smile on his face as he explained that the Spaniard could suck cock better than any woman could, though he added that he had no objection to Stephie trying to better him.

It would not have been so bad if he was more discreet, but he seemed to get an extra kick out of flaunting his sexuality as much as possible. At one family party he had managed to bed one of his own cousins, a shy young Lady who fell for his charming manner and classical good looks. He had made love to her in the master bedroom, with the window open to the balcony, so that the sighs and moans of her orgasm had floated across the lawn like an early morning mist. Poor Ariana had to pretend that nothing had happened, and the pitying looks she got from her family and friends were like an elixir for him.

‘Please don't cry,' Ariana whispered helplessly, putting her hand out to Stephie. She leaned over and kissed Stephie's shoulder, her lips cool and soft against her skin.

‘Go away, leave me alone…' Stephie cried, burying her head in the pillow, wanting to blank out everything. She felt horror, disgust, shame, and most of all pity. She felt so sorry for Ariana, and yet there seemed to be nothing she could do. Ariana left the room, her face a picture of defeat.

Stephie's tears carried her to a dark dreamless sleep, through the humidity of the afternoon and into the coolness of the evening that settled slowly over the great house. When she awoke, hours later, it was as if the ugliness that had spoiled the perfection of the summer's day had not happened. The house was still, at rest after basking in the heat, the silence heavy and melancholic.

Stephie rose and bathed quickly, the coolness of the shower refreshing her spirit somewhat. She tried not to think of Timothy and Ariana. Instead she wandered through the house alone, enjoying the building that had yet to be served up to the public. She loved the house, it was the only thing that tempted her to return time and gain to visit her sister and her errant husband. She walked the corridors like a thief, lost in silent admiration of the treasures it contained. So many rooms to explore, so many surprises to discover. Timothy's family had made their money in the New World, alert to the possibilities of trade, while most of the other great families of the age had slumbered through the seventeenth century. It alone explained the fact that the family had been able to keep the house private, and to prosper when others had been forced to seek alliance with the rising class of merchants and bankers.

‘You wouldn't have liked great uncle,' Timothy commented, startling Stephie, who had been gazing at one of the immense family portraits that glared down from the wall of one of the many chambers in that wing of the house.

‘Wouldn't I?' she asked sullenly, looking at him sharply.

‘No, he didn't like wilful girls like you. He'd have had you strapped by one of his slaves before having you for himself,' he smiled, the idea obviously appealing to him too. ‘And if you were still stubborn he would have handed you over to the slave to give you a smidgen of the New World experience.'

‘That isn't even funny,' Stephie said. She turned and walked across the chamber, certain that he would follow.

‘I don't think it was meant to be funny, Stephanie darling. He was a humourless old bastard really, no sense of fun at all. It's said that once one of the tenants on the estate had complained that the master had taken the virginity of his, the servant's, daughter. In actual fact the master had taken the man's daughter, mother and grandmother, and no doubt he would have taken his daughter's daughter in turn if he'd lived long enough.'

‘Is that why you want to have sex with me and my sister?'

Timothy laughed. ‘I see, you think I'm trying to emulate the old bugger. Well, that's an idea, isn't it? Only thing is that the old boy didn't bother to marry the tenant's daughter to have her. They did things with greater style in the old days.'

‘I suppose you think that's funny,' Stephie sniffed, leading the way down the central staircase to the main dining hall.

‘Yes, I do actually,' he smiled. ‘Now, have you and darling Ari worked anything out yet?'

‘No, not at all,' Stephie replied bluntly.

‘How tedious this all is,' he mumbled under his breath, loud enough for Stephie to hear, although she made no comment.

The dining hall was an oak panelled delight that would have pulled in the American tourists by the coach load; high ceiling, intricate workmanship, coats of arms wherever you looked. It was the perfect setting for a medieval banquet, which is what it had been once, and Stephie had heard that it was on Timothy's wish list too. He was a man that took his desire seriously, he liked to expound on the things he wanted to do, almost as much as he expounded on the things he had already done.

Sometimes he'd pause in the middle of an episode to glance at Stephie, who always listened to his adulterous goings on in stony silence. Ariana on the other hand had long since accustomed herself. She even enjoyed adding the odd detail to the story, just so everyone knew she wasn't the martyred wife, but a willing participant in all his sexual adventures. It was an act, and everyone knew it was an act, except Ariana herself.

Dinner passed off peacefully, conversation was light and inconsequential, and at the close of the meal Ariana was glowing, her face lit up by the simple happiness of it all. Timothy had been a charming host, Stephie a grateful guest, and Ariana herself so happy to have the two people she loved the most acting with pleasant civility to each other. She could ask for nothing more.

Stephie was reading a book, her window was open to the welcome breeze of the night, and when she heard a gentle knock on the door she froze. For a second she feared it was Timothy, but then Ariana's reassuring voice whispered from behind the door.

‘I just wanted to talk,' Ariana said apologetically.

‘Where's Timothy?' Stephie asked suspiciously.

‘Preparing for a trip down to the City,' Ariana assured her, walking across the room to sit on the very edge of the bed. She was still wearing the same simple white dress that she had earlier. Cool and loose, it did nothing to conceal the gentle curves of her body, from the fullness of her breasts to the swell of her backside.

‘What do you want to talk about?'

‘Why can't you and Timothy always be like you were tonight? Why can't you just be friends?'

Stephie sighed. ‘Because he wants to be more than friends. Come on Ariana, you were there when he asked, no he demanded, I suck his cock. Didn't that mean anything to you?'

‘But there's nothing wrong with it,' Ariana insisted. ‘Why have you turned into such a prude all of a sudden? You never used to be like this… Have you really forgotten what we used to do?'

‘No, I haven't forgotten,' Stephie said softly, lowering her eyes. ‘But that was different, that was…' she searched for the word but couldn't find it. ‘That was different,' she repeated firmly.

‘That was worse,' Ariana smiled. She leaned across the bed and took the book from Stephie's hands. The sister's looked at each other for a second, melting into each other's eyes. Stephie made the first move, moving forward, parting her lips for the kiss that she longed for. They kissed long and hard, mouths duelling, breath shared, tongues exploring. They parted and looked at each other again, faces flushed red and eyes sparkling with desire.

Stephie reached out and stroked her sister's breasts over the thin covering of virginal white cotton. The nipples soon stood hard and erect, pressing against the softness of the material, the colour dark against the whiteness. They kissed again, fingers exploring softly, flitting touches against breast and thigh and face.

‘Make love with me,' Ariana breathed, an aching whisper escaping from her red lips.

In a moment Stephie was naked and wrapped in Ariana's arms, her mouth sucking furiously at Ariana's nipples, still clothed in thin white cotton. Her own nakedness was caressed by the butterfly touch of the night breeze, she opened her thighs, guided Ariana's fingers to the heat of her sex. She was wet, the nectar slick between her thighs. Ariana's touch was sure, a knowing caress that teased her sister's clitoris exquisitely.

Stephie responded instinctively, opening herself, letting herself go to the waves of pleasure that pulsed from her hot sex. Her nipples throbbed while they were suckled, teased with teeth and tongue until Stephie could hold back her cries no longer. She arched, threw her head back and felt the shuddering ecstasy of orgasm.