Princes of Charming (6 page)

Very slowly she bent over the back of the couch. She was forced to bend from the hips, because her waist was cinched by the rigid whalebones, and also his large, strong hands.

It felt like forever, as she hung there and he rubbed against her, their clothing in the way. Then, finally, he stepped back, his hands left her waist and he was hoisting her garments up over her thighs and hips. He jerked her silk drawers down and they fell to her ankles. Now she knew he was looking at her stocking tops, her garters and her bared bottom. 

"Legs apart," he murmured.

She complied, her drawers around her ankles. It was a good thing he could not see her red face, she thought. He might think she blushed, but it was only the blood rushing to her head as she dangled over the hotel couch and he put his hands on her arse to spread her cheeks.

And then she felt his wet tongue pressed to her anus. Her eyelashes fluttered shut. She bit her lip. He wriggled his tongue against her tight hole and she felt herself softening, opening, full of want. She parted her legs further and heard his grunt of approval. His broad thumb stroked her damp pussy while he continued laving her arse-hole with his hot, lusty tongue.

Oh how did she get here, she thought suddenly. Twenty minutes ago she was nibbling on a dainty fondant cake and sipping tea. Thinking how rude and obnoxious he was. Now he pried and teased his way into her body and she allowed it. Welcomed it. She was writhing against his tongue, pushing back, asking for more.

His chin scruff rubbed on her swollen pussy lips and he kissed her there, firmly pressing his mouth to her labia. Then a finger slid inside her readied cunt. She was so primed that it moved in and out easily, allowing him to quickly add a second finger. Drusilla exhaled a sharp gasp as he worked those fingers back and forth, resuming a deliberate teasing assault on her anus —licking it, flicking his tongue against the puckered hole while he felt for her core with his work-roughened fingertips and tantalized her pussy until she could no longer control the motion of her swaying hips. Her breath was shallow. The corset barely allowed any air into her lungs at the best of times. Now she was light-headed. Had to clutch the back of the couch or risk melting, fainting.

He slid his fingers out of her and his thumb swept up, covered in her sticky dew, to push at her anus. She knew he was standing now, felt his body heat over her, heard the excited rhythm of his breath. With his free hand he must be unbuttoning his trousers. She wished she could see. Looking around the hotel suite, she found a mirror on the far wall. It wasn't quite angled sufficiently to catch the full view, but she saw his face as he strained to control himself. His mouth was slack, his lips wet, his eyes wild when he looked down at her.

"It is a great injustice, Mrs. Kent. A beautiful woman like yourself—a woman built for passion, yet starved of intercourse for six years. You must have many sexual thoughts and needs built up."

She said nothing, too busy admiring his reflection in the mirror.

"Tell me your fantasy, Mrs. Kent. What would you most like this afternoon? Your wish is my command."

She was startled. No one ever asked her what she wanted from sex. It was her job to serve, not to enjoy herself too much.

"One thing you would like to do," he urged, his voice low and gruff.

"I...don't know." She couldn't think in that moment.

His thumb pushed into her arse and she groaned, shifting her feet to keep her balance. In the far mirror she watched a slight smile turn up one corner of his thin lips. Suddenly he thrust forward, almost knocking her over the couch head first. Several of her hair pins loosened and a lock of brown hair tumbled free down the side of her face. His broad cockhead breached her opening with no further ado, forcing deeper into her sheath with the second thrust. Drusilla had never felt this full in her life. The tight corset squeezing her in above served to accentuate the sensation of her lower half being pinned, penetrated, ravished.

"What is it you would like?" He wasn't giving up. "Your wickedest desire will be fulfilled here and now."

She cried out as he thrust a third time, fitting yet more of his cock inside her. How much more could there be? He would have to loosen her corset if there was a half inch more to come, because it felt as if he was in her belly already. She trembled. Sweat coated her body, dampening her clothes.

"Completely anonymous sex," she gasped out finally. "A man I don't know and will never see again." Oh, Lord, why did she tell him that? She had a great many sexual fantasies but they'd all been locked away. This was the first thought that came to her and it spilled out as he began to fuck her from behind, grabbing her hips and finding the rhythm, his corduroy trousers slowly crumpled against the back of her thighs.

"I don't count as a stranger, I suppose," he grunted.

She shook her head.

"What would he do to you first then? Describe it to me."

"Lick...lick...me."

His pace quickened, his sac grinding against her each time his full manhood drove home. "Lick what?"

"My...sex...I...want..." It was getting harder to speak as the fucking continued. "Both."

"Both?"

"You and... a ...ouch...a stranger."

"Very nice, Mrs. Kent," he growled, each word falling from his mouth as if pushed out with the forward thrusts.

"Glad you like it," she replied, breathless. "Please unlace my corset."

"Not yet."

Now he held his thumb again between her arse cheeks, while his cock still plundered deep, stretching her pussy, possessing it as no man had in a long while.  He wriggled his thumb, forcing it into her bottom. She yelped as his pace quickened, his shaft working like a piston, balls slapping against her sopping wetness, the sound incredibly loud in that hotel suite. His thumb was all the way in her arse now, squeezing through, claiming her.

"Where would you like my deposit most? I assume you wish for me to withdraw from your cunt before I spill."

"If you don't mind," she replied sardonically. Glancing upward she saw him in the mirror again. This time he too had caught the reflection. Their eyes met.

"I'm going to fuck you all afternoon, Mrs. Kent. I hope you won't object to finding my seed inside you. All over you."

"Do
not
come inside me."

"Not here perhaps." He thrust again, his cock hard as marble inside her vagina. "Somewhere else."

"As you wish."

Their eyes still held in the mirror. He slid his prick out of her, leaving Drusilla on the verge of orgasm. "As I wish? Hmmm. How generous. Can this hole take me?" He wriggled his thumb again and she gasped

"No." Her pussy throbbed, sulking at his sudden withdrawal.

"I think, yes. I've prepared it quite well and it has expanded most obliging around my thumb. Shall we try widening it a little further?"

It was odd for her to be on the receiving end these days. She should be the one inserting objects into
his
anus, while spanking him with a paddle.

Before she could formulate any sort of answer that wouldn't make her sound too eager, there was a knock at the door of his suite. To Drusilla's mortification, he shouted, "Enter."

The door was to the right of the couch. By dropping her head between her arms she hid her face from the new arrival. She could not, however, hide what was being done to her. Brandon paused, his thighs hard against the back of her legs, his cock sheathed again by her pussy, his trousers probably around his ankles by then and certainly no modesty left for her.

"Ah yes," she heard him say. "Thank you. I did call for a barber and it completely slipped my mind."

"Shall I...return later, sir?"

"No, no. Come in. I'm nearly finished."

She cursed under her breath. Brandon must have heard her, for he laughed softly and then resumed his motion, balls smacking into her with every forceful thrust. To her left there were sounds of small wheels squeaking closer and then items moved about on a tray, followed by water pouring and the quick sweep of a razor being sharpened on a strap. Through it all, Brandon Wilder pounded in and out of her sopping wet pussy and she felt the waves of climax mounting. He moved his thumb even deeper in her arse and leaned over her spine to whisper, "You have my permission to come, Madam. The barber is watching my cock ream your lovely pink pussy with great interest."

She made an attempt to restrain her need.

"I'm going to have him shave me. While he's here, can this
stranger
do anything for you? The fellow looks keen enough. He's practically salivating right now." He raised his voice. "Pretty piece of cunny, isn't she?"

After a pause, the other man answered, "Indeed, sir. Very."

"I wager you wouldn't mind a little yourself, eh?"

"I'm sorry sir, I should avert my eyes until you are done."

"Not at all, man. Look as much as you like. The lady doesn't mind. Do you darling?" Brandon leaned forward again and kissed her neck, just above the lace collar of her gown. "I want to come in your mouth," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin.

She moaned softly in assent.

"If you climax now, he'll see it." He chuckled and it tickled the little curly hairs at the nape of her neck. "He must be stiff as a pikestaff under that apron. He's admiring every inch of you."

Drusilla came in a rush, squeezing her pussy walls on his rock hard cock, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood.

Still the man inside her held off his own orgasm. He slowed his strokes until he'd pulled out of her quivering cunt altogether. "Would you mind coming over here and helping the lady out of her corset?" he asked calmly of the barber. "I don't seem to have a free hand."

She opened her eyes cautiously, but didn't raise her head. From her pose hanging over the back of the couch, she could just see a pair of black clad legs and a barber's apron as the other man moved into view and stood before her. The stranger would not recognize her and as long as Brandon did not refer to her by name she might get away with anonymity. It was naughty, daring. It was extremely...exciting. Just like the man himself. Even her vivid fantasies about Brandon Wilder had never quite matched this. Not quite.

Fingers fumbled at the buttons down the back of her blouse and then over her corset laces. Finally— wondrous relief. She saw the barber's apron lifted by a prominent bulge in his trousers. He certainly
was
keen, she mused.

"Perhaps you might be of further assistance," said Brandon. "Could you come around here, please?"

"Yes, sir." The barber moved around the couch, out of her sight.

Brandon leaned over her again, one finger still playing with her labia, running up and down her cleft. Now that she'd come once already her hidden core was extra sensitive, her quim dripping with dew. "Would you like this good fellow to lend a hand?" he asked her.

She swallowed. Her breasts, now partially freed, swayed against the loosened corset as she writhed and pressed her mound on the tapestry fabric of the hotel couch. "I thought you were the jealous type," she ground out finally.

"Was that a yes, madam?"

"Hmmm." She took a breath. "Perhaps he could lend a tongue."

Brandon chuckled. Using his fingers to open her nether lips wide, he invited the lucky barber to dine.

"Sir, I...I...."

"Would you pass up such an opportunity? Dawson, is it not?"

"No, sir. I mean, yes sir, Mr. Wilder."

"Then enjoy what she's offering. Look how enticingly pink she is, nectar dripping out of her. We'll keep it between the three of us, eh? No one else need ever know what goes on here this afternoon. Here is your chance to earn a very large tip if you please the lady adequately."

There was only a further short pause before she heard a low, "Thank you, sir. Madam." And felt the other man's breath on her sex and then the slickness of his moustache on her incredibly roused flesh. He was quick to accept, quick to take advantage of the opportunity, as Brandon urged him on.

"Give her a good lathering, Dawson. Then you can tend to her pretty curls with your skillful razor after you do me."

What on earth did he mean by that? Drusilla tensed up, but the man kneeling behind her gave a muffled grunt of agreement, busy lapping up her moisture, his warm hands holding her thighs just above her garters. He was not so tentative now, fortunately. There was nothing worse than a hesitant tongue. Drusilla pushed back slightly into his face and felt his fingers tighten, pressing into her thighs as he licked faster, becoming quite greedy as his early shyness fell away.

"That's a good fellow," Brandon muttered, his voice deeper, huskier. "Isn't she sweet as honey? Do you know where to find her naughty button?" His hands were on her arse cheeks, stroking, squeezing while the other man's mouth suckled at her, lips tugging, tongue forced into her, wriggling against her pussy walls. "Shall I show you?"

Drusilla raised her head. "He knows," she gasped. "He knows where to ...find...it." She panted as another climax swept through her trembling body and Brandon chuckled, running a hand along her arched spine.