The Stallion (6 page)

Desire spread in a cobweb cloud through her body and limbs once her creamy flesh, radiant with a mixture of health and sweat, was exposed. Her clothes lay discarded.

She watched as he picked them up and laid them on a chair near the door in a neat pile as though they were crisply clean rather than smelling of sweat and horses.

There was something annoying in seeing him give the clothes more attention than he had her. The annoyance threatened to bubble over. Even before she spoke, she knew he would hear it in her voice. But she’d had enough. She had to say something.

‘Right! Now I’ll take my bath.’ She sounded imperious and meant to.

Tossing her head and holding herself as proudly as she could, she walked naked towards the bathroom. Perhaps now, she thought with a pang of regret, this man would leave, or take her, or do something!

Gregory followed her into the bathroom.

Penny stopped, turned and stared at him. Again he averted his eyes.

‘Thank you. I can manage now,’ she said, rolling her breasts with her hands for his and her benefit and very aware of all the other naked Pennys reflected back at her from the misted mirrors, and all the other rolled breasts and jutting nipples.

‘Get in. Stand up and I’ll sponge you down.’ His voice was sudden, but she was so mesmerised by its tone and quality that she felt obliged to obey.

She hesitated just for a moment. Her thoughts roller-coastered between desire and pride. Who was this man who could tell her what to do? And why didn’t he just fall on her, knead her breasts in his strong hands, lay her down and press
his
hard cock into her welcoming pussy? She had no answers. So she stepped into the bath and hoped for the best. She knew very well what she wanted that ‘best’ to be.

She began to moan with pleasure. Her skin glistened with soap bubbles as Gregory squeezed a well-lathered sponge across the round firmness of her breasts. The droplets of water and white foam tumbled like a mountain torrent down the gleaming slopes only to hang like imperfect white pearl drops from deep pink buttons.

She let her senses delight in this amazing experience. She and Mark had bathed together, but this wasn’t some ordinary homely experience. Like a princess, she luxuriated in the warm water and towering bubbles. Like a slave, angelic beauty and masculine strength moulded into one, he stood over her, the sponge in his right hand following the exploring fingers of the left.

With mounting ardour, she watched wide-eyed as he took off his shirt. Now! yelled her mind. Now!

But nothing happened. That was all he took off. Feeling his way along the edge of the bath, he retrieved his sponge, and continued as before.

Her breath quickened as his hands explored and soaped her body. She was lost in pleasure, purring and moaning in alternate spasms. Anything he wanted was his. Anything at all. She had an overpowering urge to touch the tanned, hairless skin that so tautly covered the hard, lithe body.

‘Put your hands on top of your head,’ he said. Then he stepped backwards as though he had anticipated that she would try to touch him, to run her soapy fingers over his hard body.

‘What . . . ?’ she began, her words strangled by her racing breath.

‘Do as you’re told,’ he repeated. ‘Put your hands on your head. You are not allowed to touch me.’

With a moan of deep regret, she raked her eyes over the beautiful, boyish flesh that she longed to feel beneath her fingers, and cursed the heavy ache that hung like lead between her thighs. Now what could she do?

Strong urges wanted her to disobey, to run her fingers over that delicious form, the skin now glossy from the mix of steam and sweat.

Then she sighed. She would resign herself to whatever part she had to play. And if he wanted to act the part of the bathhouse slave, then so be it.

Tension dissipated and anxiety banished, she rested her hands one on top of the other on her head. Unsmiling, his face serious with intent, he came nearer. Now she could smell him, tangy, male and juicily desirable.

Tremors of sensation tingled throughout her body as the sponge was rolled down over her belly and in between her legs.

‘Open your legs wider.’

Having no intention of missing such a golden opportunity, she did as she was told. The warm sponge and the diligence of his hands spread and rolled her plush nether lips until they hung with soap suds, thoroughly spread and thoroughly cleaned.

There was a pleasantness about it. Almost like satisfaction, she thought to herself – but not quite. Pink flesh much used and abused the night before felt refreshed and touched with new life.

She closed her eyes now. Better to savour that way and to fully absorb the tingling that ran over her skin and centred on her precious clit and blossoming nipples.

The hand that was not using the sponge travelled to her hip, his fingers soft and tantalising. His hand held her hip. He reached round, his fingers clasping gently at the taut flesh of one buttock.

‘If you get down on all fours,’ he said suddenly, ‘I’ll do your back.’

The request was irresistible. She got on to all fours. She wanted to do this; to feel her tension dissolve in the warmth and her sexual desire flood over her like a warm wave on a tropical beach.

The water reached her elbows. The furry mixture of sponge and soap loosened the muscles of her back and shoulders. She opened her eyes, closed them again and purred like a kitten. The hands travelled down over her back to her pink buttocks.

It occurred to her that Gregory did this for everyone new, and had probably done it for Ariadne. That made her jealous. Calm down, she told herself, use your self-control. Obviously this was routine, an act designed to put people at ease and promote mutual trust. And what could be better than sharing a bath? Didn’t the Japanese do it anyway?

Suds circulated around her neck and dropped in white globules from her breasts. She murmured with surprised delight as the squidgy softness of the sponge was pressed in between her buttocks, the soap trickling down the deep crevice and through the channel that divided her legs.

Warmth, suds and softness invaded the wet folds of flesh. Her thighs opened slightly. Her head felt dizzy, her eyes closing as she revelled in the sweet decadence of doing nothing, of depending on someone else to cleanse and pamper her willing body.

She felt the long fingers, as delicate in their touch as any artist, spread her cheeks apart, expose her anus and press the sponge and its soapy issue into her puckered hole.

There was no stopping the moan of ecstasy that issued from her throat. She closed her eyes, threw discretion to the wind, and pressed her buttocks more firmly against it.

‘I think you need more soap,’ she heard Gregory say, his voice as melodious and beguiling as his looks.

‘Whatever . . . ’ she replied through her moans of pleasure.

His hands ran down over her back. His fingers parted her buttocks. Something soft but basically hard was forced into her anus. She gasped, and realised the invader could only be the soap which was long and shaped more like shaving soap than bath soap. Its effect was incredible. Her muscles gripped as it slid gently in and out. Still moaning and savouring all that was being done to her, she arched her back and pressed herself on to it. This was the best bath she’d ever had.

‘More,’ she moaned, and wished that the soap was twice the size it was; that there was something bigger to push into her pulsating vulva which cried out for attention. Her clit also tingled with demand, entering the scenario like a star act stepping on to centre stage.

The folds of flesh that hugged the core of her sex began to open like the petals of a lotus in bloom, droplets of dewy essence mixing with the lather as her plump labia opened in anticipation.

‘All finished,’ she heard him say as the soap was withdrawn. Now her moans changed to groans.

‘Don’t stop!’ she cried out, turning to glare at him. She would have begged longer, but something in his face told her that such pleas would not be welcome.

‘Patience,’ he replied. ‘Acually I haven’t quite finished yet. I have my orders.’

She wanted to ask him what orders. But her need to enjoy more of his ministrations was greater than her curiosity.

Disappointment filled her. She had a need for release, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Gregory was with her and likely to do more, she would have slid her hand between her legs and tickled her tight little bud until she did come.

Quizzically she looked over the foam that sat on her shoulder and saw him take something down from off the wall.

Then she gasped as cold water sprayed from a hand-held shower hose washed the suds from her body. Goosebumps dimpled her tight flesh as the soft hands directed the water over her back. Streams of cold delicacy seeped between her buttocks and dangled in icy dribbles from her stiff nipples. She gasped, her skin tingling as the process was repeated until the shower was turned off.

‘Cold water aids muscle tone.’ Gregory’s explanation sounded reasonable enough, but Penny did not entirely believe him, or rather she didn’t want to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was enjoying this, too; that the sight of her naked form and opening sex tempted him. If it wasn’t for the obvious bulge in his trousers, she would have questioned his gender. But she knew instinctively he was a man. His physique was beautiful, but decidedly masculine. And his smell was masculine. He was a man all right.

She considered his comment on muscle tone. The divide between health and sex had always been blurred. In the bath, it was sex that was on her mind, not sport.

‘The soap’s all gone,’ he said, then switched off the cold water.

Catching her breath, she got out of the soap-filled tub and let Gregory envelop her in the softness of a thick white bath towel wrapped tightly around her by his sinewy arms.

‘Delicious,’ she murmured, closing her eyes and hugging the sheet to her. She was cocooned in it, glad of its warmth, of its softness, and even more glad to be so close to his body.

Wetting her lips with her languid tongue, she reached out and touched his glistening shoulder. He started and stepped back. The look in his eyes was impossible to read. There was defiance there, and also something resembling pain or fear.

‘I’m sorry . . . ’ she said, in a broken voice. Puzzled and disappointed, she clenched her fingers into her palm, withdrew and let the towel that so warmly enfolded her slip from her grasp.

‘It’s not allowed,’ he said, stepping away from her like he had earlier. ‘At least, not yet.’

She stared, but bit her tongue. She was new here. She had to remember that.

Her body was dry now, aglow with the warm hue of the recent bath. Her breasts pouted proudly forward as though inviting his fingers. Very slightly, she opened her legs and was immediately aware of the sweet mix of musk and highly perfumed soap.

‘Don’t you want me?’ she asked him plaintively, running her hands down over her breasts, the flatness of her belly, the forest of soft dark hair that flowered between her thighs.

She couldn’t help but frown. His expression did not change; at least not in his eyes. His jaw dropped momentarily before he answered.

‘Yes,’ he suddenly said in a bright way that softened the hardness of his jawline. ‘I want you to lie down on the bed.’ He threw the last words over his shoulder in a more casual and offhand manner.

She didn’t care about that. If he wanted her on the bed, he could have her on the bed. In fact, he could have her in any way he chose. She picked up the crumpled towel and made her way into the bedroom.

The thick green and red of the tapestry bedspread was rough against her back, and did nothing to subdue the heat of sexual desire that ran all over her body.

She lay her head on the crisp white linen of the pillow. Gently, she writhed her hips, rubbing one leg against the other in excited expectation.

She closed her eyes as the smell of lavender from the pillow assaulted her senses. Sensuality itself played havoc with her nerve ends.

Purrs of ecstasy escaped from her mouth as she raised one knee, then the other, so that the top of one thigh was always in contact with her aching clitoris.

Through narrowed eyes, she watched him re-enter the room and gasped with sheer lust when she saw he now wore only the briefest of coverings: nothing more than a posing pouch that hid his cock from view but nothing else.

‘Why don’t you take that off, too?’ she asked through rushed breath.

Abruptly and without answering, he turned his back on her and became absorbed with something on the dressing-table.

She watched; licking her lips, rubbing her breasts, mesmerised by the view of his well-formed buttocks divided by the thin strip of material. She assessed the power of strong thighs and the incredibly detailed muscles in his well-honed calves.

He was totally hairless. His skin shone like soft gold in the subtle glow of the ornate lighting.

When he turned back to her, he was rubbing his hands together. Aware of the aroma of sandalwood, musk and wild flowers, she held out her arms to him, telling herself that this was the moment, this was their time.

Suspended for just a moment, she let her arms fall beside her. Although he was walking towards her, he did not look at her. His eyes seemed to stare straight over her head and her bed. What was it with this man? Was she that ugly?

‘Face down,’ he said suddenly, and her spirits rose.

‘OK,’ she smiled. ‘If that’s the way you want it.’

As she lay full-stretch on the bed, her eyes went to the big carved mirror that almost covered the other wall. There was a certain clarity lacking in it. The ones in the bathroom had been
similar,
she remembered. Then she smiled secretively. They were two-way mirrors; they had to be. Suddenly, she remembered that Alistair liked to watch. She felt like the star turn at the London Palladium. All right, if she was expected to perform, then perform she would.

With rising excitement she awaited the soothing strokes of his probing fingers. This, she told herself, was turning out even better than she’d hoped for. Of course, there was still that tingling around her love temple that needed assuaging. But now, instinctively, she knew that this blond seraphim would bring her to full satisfaction.