Caroline's Contract

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The bell of the boutique tinkled as the door opened, drawing Roxanne’s attention. She turned to see the tall dark-haired gentleman enter. Having caught her eye with a knowing glance, he then turned to bolt the door, pull down the shade, then make his way to the back of the shop. He had an aura of mystery about him, eyes that pierced souls, and a wicked way of turning the buxom blonde’s thoughts to s*x.

“The stool,” he said without further comment.

Understanding what he wanted, Roxanne pulled a stool from one of the dressing rooms hidden behind curtains in one corner of the shop. It was always the same ritual, though never really the same result. Sitting down on the stool, the silent intruder pulled Roxanne to his side with his hand immediately moving on her generous thighs and the warmth rising from their smooth surface. With fingers diving deep between her legs, he found no panties, just moist damp skin, and a small bush of clipped hair, where her fragrant folds yielded the opening he would soon penetrate with frenetic abandon.

He grabbed her bottom harshly so she nearly lost her balance.

“You’ve been a b***h this week, Roxanne?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so, Maxwell,” she replied, as she steadied herself against his arm.

He wasted little effort pulling her over his lap, where her voluptuous form made his prick quickly rise to its full measure. There was little doubt that she could feel the throbbing member as it pressed against her groin. Roxanne’s short skirt was tight about her thighs. Giving it a tug, he pulled drew it slowly off her ass, seeing the dimpled creamy tan of her naked skin revealed as it rose an inch at a time. The lovely sight gave him some satisfaction, though not as much as he would have once he’d spanked it to a rich red hue. Kneading her flesh for just a moment, he then moved on, striking quickly with a hand, rudely smacking her left ass cheek. Repeated smacks, and Roxanne’s behind was turning pink.

She gasped with these first few, knowing that they were the soft ones, the initial jolts, which would soon give way to harsher, stinging slaps. Her comely behind began to squirm.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

Trying to calm down was not easy, her loins were ablaze, her s****l desire mounting each time the palm of his hand crashed hotly on her skin. With the surface beginning to burn, she knew the flesh would be richly stained by the time he was finished, and her whole body would be in that lovely and nonsensical state of agony and desire. Her juices were already beginning to flow, gathering between her thighs as a sticky liquid, which would ease the path of his erection. Oh, how she loved this!

The slaps grew harder yet, and she squealed ignoring his wishes for quiet. He always demanded silence; but she could never obey that request. Tears began to well inside her eyes, and her heart raged as she became more frantic. He rampaging need for penetration was acute; she was about to c*m.

“You little slut,” Max declared as he realized the fire that drove her.

“Ah, yes, love, f**k me,” she begged earnestly.

“Not till I’m finished with you,” he paused long enough to answer.

The blows rained down harder, as hard as his swollen c**k beneath her was hard. She could almost tell by the size of his prick when he was ready to throw her off and screw the c*m from her. She moved her cunt against him, each rubbing motion making her surge with greater zeal. The two randy lovers struck a fine rhythm: the blows, the pulsing organ, her hot ass, her churning cunt.

Oblivious to all else, they rode the s****l fire to its peak. Then abruptly, in one swift motion, he stopped. Rising to his feet, he held her firmly in his grasp, promptly pushing her against a table piled high with clothes. Spreading her legs, he thrust himself inside her cunt.

He slapped her still, though not as firmly as he had before, or with as much intent to punish. His focus was fixed on his pulsing member pummeling the depths of her channel. He loved the sight her—the red raw globes of flesh rocking lewdly before his eyes. He loved the way she panted, and how she screamed in whimpering and melodic waves of sound. Even though her cries might be heard and their passion discovered by someone passing by the boutique, she was too lost in herself to care.

“Oh, yes, Max, harder. Harder, yes!” she demanded. “Yes, yes yes, yes. . . my love… aughhh… ahhhh…” as she began to c*m.

Her cunt tensed around his huge prick, from the head lodged against her cervix, to the wide stalk, which forced the entrance of her v****a open wide. Rearing back as he hung on to her ass cheeks, squeezing, he let the orgasm trigger his first shot of c*m.

“Yeeeawwww . . . .” a low roaring growl issued from his raspy throat. And thereafter, he thrust deeply into her cunt, his balls banging against her thighs, his c**k surging with one pulse after another, pumping her full of his thick cream.

Max collapsed against her when he finished; and she went limp pressed firmly to the edge of the table over a pile of soft sweaters, which cushioned her bliss-filled ride. Sweat mingling and thighs still locked, his lips drifted to the back of her neck, delicately. Then, he carefully lifted Roxanne from the table, and they regained some sense of calm in the wake of their turbulent f**k.

Turning around, she watched his savagely animal eyes mellow, gathering in them a kinder expression she’d come to treasure at moments like this one.

“Ooo, Max, you are a beast!” she exclaimed with an animated whisper.

“And you’re complaining?”

“Not at all, never!”

He put his arm around her. It was the gesture of a friend, not a lover, though it was a friendship that was often both affectionate and s****l.

“So, you’re giving my name to friends now?” he wondered aloud.

“Friends?” She struggled to figure out what he meant. Then from somewhere out of the foggy past she remembered the card she slipped into Caroline’s hands. “She called? Caroline called? I never thought she’d do it.” Her mind raced backwards, recalling the remarkable conversation of weeks ago. She shuddered bringing to mind the kind of desires prowling about Caroline’s psyche. “Be kind to her,” she thought to add, “she’s not like me at all.”

“Oh?”

“No. She’s much more refined. I’m a bit of w***e to her, not that she judges that, it’s just . . . well, it must have taken incredible courage for her to call you, either that or incredible desire.” She viewed him, wary of what could transpire between the two. Perhaps her friend was more refined than she was; but if she were to believe even half of that half-drunk conversation, Caroline was far more perverse in her s****l motivations. Max would be just the kind of man to feast on that sort of untapped lust. “Just be kind to her,” she said again.

“I’m always kind. And she’ll get what she wants, if she deserves it and is willing to pay the price.”

There were times when his mysterious depths alarmed her. The way his eyes would light strangely, giving her glimpses of the peculiar soul beneath his surface gentility. Theirs was a joyous screw, but she wondered if it would be the same with Caroline. Had she been wise to give her his name? At the moment it seemed like a terrible mistake.

Once presentable again, Max left. He’d been in the shop less than twenty minutes.

Quick, but so satisfying, Roxanne thought to herself as she straightened herself, the table of sweaters, and prepared to open the shop again.