Naughty Niki

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

I first saw her at her father’s estate walking along the beach. She was barefoot and wearing a string bikini in a shade of aqua that was the same color as the clear, rippling water splashing at her feet. The soft texture of her supple, youthful skin attracted my eye; then her round ass, her slim waist and her perfectly formed legs. My eyes moved from one beautiful feature to another in awe. Because of the angle of my observation, I hadn’t even seen her face, but I knew I had to have her. The sound of her laughter and the glint of mischief in her eye I saw once she turned around confirmed the fact she would not be an easy woman to understand. I was right about that. Just as I was right about obtaining her with little effort. She was young enough to still be infatuated with men like me. ~ Bernardo

Lonely Lady

Bernardo brought his young wife Niki to his home high on the hill, where the grand hacienda overlooked the small desert town below and the mountains in the distance. A breathless view that shimmered like something unearthly in the midday heat. Inside the house, its dozen rooms were cooled by loping fans and desert breezes. Furnished like a palace with the elegance of Old World Spain, the lavish atmosphere had the young bride smiling; she nabbed a big fish in the ocean of wealthy and hot looking men. There were tiaras and furs and fine lingerie laid out for her. Spike heels that clicked on terra cotta floors…skimpy dresses, tiny short shorts to accentuate shapely legs and an enormous brass bed that would extend their long honeymoon for endless nights of pleasure. Certainly that is what the young Niki thought.

What a giggling young girl she’d been on their Caribbean honeymoon, opening her lush, firm thighs with a blush on her face, while batting her thick black lashes like a common tramp. He f****d her hard every night as she threw her head back and cried with delicious abandon for one so young and untried. She came home well used, expecting the long string of raucous nights to continue on forever. Was that not what marriage was about?

And yet, the endless pleasures of s*x that her husband awakened in his bride sadly dwindled once they reached the hacienda. Bernardo was busy making money to support an addiction to his sexy wife. Most days, he spent trading stock, buying land and selling for profit, cashing in on abundant crops and trading favors with men just like him, from New York to Madrid to Rio to Mexico City to Los Angeles. When he was home, he spent most of the day in his office and was not to be disturbed, or he took his private jet to Phoenix, and wouldn’t be home until at least midnight. Niki rarely saw him.

At first Bernardo’s business was just a minor distraction for the young wife. Niki loved the house and all the playthings inside, the sauna, the pool, the fragrant flowers and the mountain of clothes and jewelry, fancy shoes and designer purses that seemed to arrive in a steady stream, lovingly paid for by her adoring groom. Days lounging on plush sofas, reading trashy magazines, while drinking exotic concoctions and eating food made to order by a doting house staff seemed to be the height of decadent luxury.

However, extravagance did, eventually, get tiring for the young Niki. She soon got bored with the loneliness of her solitary life. Her palace home began to feel like a mausoleum, her enormous closet like that of a dead starlet’s. From the emptiness there was no retreat. Outside the stucco walls, the broad vistas of the desert landscape hurt her eyes. Some days, the mountains, the sand and the insane blue of a cloudless Arizona sky made her want to scream and run. If anything green popped up from the sandy earth, she coveted it like buried treasure.

She’d been raised on tropical beaches, among palms and flowers and salt-filled air, where in the afternoon when it was hot, she would run into the water nearly naked and chill-out in the clear cool sea. Of course, Bernardo had a brilliant blue pool inside his hacienda, surrounded by trucked-in tropical plants and beautiful Spanish tile, but it was not the same as that Caribbean Isle where she spent her youth. Sunbathing began to lose its savor without the fragrant salty breezes off the ocean. She longed for the sweetness of great green palms where she could rest her scorched eyes, the lapping waters of the ocean, the roar of the waves, the aromas of tropical blooms, even the pungent smells of fish and seaweed that washed up on the sand. At her father’s estate, she’d sunbathed nude when there were no men around – though sometimes she let a few harmless ones take a lurid peek. But not now. Not in Arizona. The cloudless sky was not so harmless anymore.

When the glitter faded from her new life and the hacienda on the hill became oppressive, Niki split. Sometimes she took the Jeep and traversed the estate’s rough roads. Sometime she’d ask to drive the Maserati parked in the garage. If she begged and whined sweetly, and Bernardo was in an especially generous mood, he might let her drive to the highway and back. Most often, however, she sped down the switchbacks to the desert town at the bottom of the hill in her brand new Porsche – Azurro California Metallic, grey leather interior – the sexiest of her wedding gifts from Bernardo. Her streaked brown blonde hair blew out behind her, white Chanel sunglasses framed her face, her red lipstick glistened in the sun. For a moment she was free of the oppressive hacienda and the cruel fingers of a well-heeled woman’s useless life.

In that tiny Chicano village, she walked through the dusty old five and dime looking at the cheap trinkets, while the rest of the clientele watched her carefully. She was so pretty, so fresh and dust free in her crisp shorts, skimpy tank and the spiky metallic sandals. She smiled warmly and no one thought her stuck up. To her innocent questions, the plump Mexican lady who waited on her smiled in return. With a handful of insignificant purchases stuck in her Gucci bag, Niki crossed the street to the cantina, where she ordered a beer and breathed in the smell of frying tortillas. She lapped up salsa and chips, while flirting with the patrons, getting a little tipsy in the process. They wouldn’t let her leave until she sobered up, so some days, she laughed with the raunchy old men in the bar for hours.

Bernardo blew his stack when he found out what she did with her long lonely hours.

“I’m so sorry,” she pleaded miserably, batting her lashes and staring up at his furious face.

“You should be sorry. You have no idea…” His eyes burned with a passion she’d not seen before, something fiercely protective, but irate over her foolish behavior.

“Everyone in that sleepy town is harmless, Bernardo. They are gentle as lambs.”

“You are way too naïve, my sweet.”

“But I have to have a life? Something more than this…this” – she hated to say what she was feeling – “this house.” He c****d his head, questioningly. “It is so beautiful, but I have so little to do…no friends…”

“Then drive to Tucson. It’s not that far. There is plenty to do there.”

“You wouldn’t be upset if I did?”

“No. No I wouldn’t as long as you tell me where you’re going.”

She smiled big, gave him a happy hug and all was forgiven. Not forgotten though. Niki recorded that ticklish feeling that suddenly lit inside her body when Bernardo blew his stack. How exciting! Bernardo, meanwhile, sensed that his wife might need some looking after. There was more to her than he originally thought. But fraternizing with the locals in town? He might enjoy a beer or two with that rough crowd, but Niki was his wife. His wife would not be spending her afternoons in a Mexican cantina.

With Bernardo’s blessing, Niki drove to Tucson going 90 miles an hour on the highway, feeling free as a bird. On her second trip, she got caught speeding. The officer who pulled her over sauntered toward the Porsche with a macho swagger that made her panties damp. He was young, and though not particularly handsome – he was too Caucasian for Niki – he did have a nice way about him.

“You’re Bernardo Sanchez’ wife?” As he loomed above, he could no doubt see right down her top into the gaping cleavage of the halter. Her short black skirt was so tight that it had ridden up nearly to her crotch. If it had ridden up any higher he would have seen the thin lace thong that just barely covered her pubic mound.

“Oh, you know my husband?” she looked up, grinning demurely.

“I do. You know you were speeding. Twenty miles over the limit,” he said in his official voice.

“I’m so sorry,” she bit her lip in a plaintive expression of remorse. The things Niki Sanchez could do with her eyes were devastating to most men. In some small corner of their s****l bodies, they could feel her tongue lapping their c***s to life. She made it tough to be detached and authoritative as he’d been taught. “I won’t do it again, I swear. Please don’t tell Bernardo. If I promise to be good, you won’t tell him, will you?” It was a little chilling for her to think of Bernardo’s flashing eyes bearing down on her, or maybe it was titillating, but she would not take chances with his anger. After all, he was the one who suggested that she drive to Tucson. If only it were not so friggin’ far she wouldn’t have been speeding in the first place.

Her plea was decidedly childish, but it worked and the sweet-faced police officer let her go. He gave her a stern, even chilling warning, suggesting that he’d personally inform Bernardo if she were caught speeding on that stretch of road again. And he’d levy the strictest fine. If she weren’t careful she’d have her driver’s license taken away, or earn herself a night in jail. Niki shivered at that thought.

Her promise was solemnly made and she meant it. She drove a respectful seventy-five into Tucson, parked in front of her favorite club, then did disrespectful things inside that would have landed her in much more trouble from a protective husband than a ticket for speeding. If Bernardo were really so protective then why did he send her far from home to have a little fun? In the tiny town at the base of the hill there were no men she’d even think of screwing, but in the bigger city…? A wild new game of lust and conquest lay before her. Not that she was conscious of her motives; the results just came naturally with the territory.

After Niki got her hair done, her nails freshly manicured and did a little shopping she would be tired and, needing a cool drink, would slip into the first promising bar she found.

Could she help it that she liked to flirt? Or how her body tittered with excitement seeing men staring at her bare flesh…from her ankles to the shimmering cleavage where she’d deliberately sprinkled sparkle dust. Just innocent fun, she thought, grinning mischievously as she laid a trail of empty promises behind her with each provocative smile.

That is, until the day when a hot young stud approached her, all macho swagger and big talk. She’d seen him before with the effect of that swagger and big talk doing dangerous things to a s****l being who’d been days without a good fix. She wanted a c**k inside her p***y real bad, and Bernardo was on a fishing expedition in the Gulf. He called it business; she called it abandonment. This one had been a particularly hard set back: the first time Bernardo had actually been away overnight since they were married. She begged to go with him, but he’d told her with an affectionate hand laid against her sorrowful face that he had a lot of business to attend to and he couldn’t be distracted by her presence.

“Distracted?” She’d pulled away from him, petulantly.

Then his eyes narrowed on her in a strangely authoritative way. She’d shivered inside, gulped back more tears, and felt reasonably put in her place. For the moment, this didn’t bother her, although she had no idea why. Just one of those nonsensical things that happened when Bernardo, or any man for that matter, overruled her personal agenda with his own.

She had no choice but to remain at the hacienda, but that certainly didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be on her way to Tucson the first chance she got.

And, thus, when the young stud swaggered toward her in the air-conditioned bar, she asked nonchalantly:

“You want something?”

His eyes moved deliberately from her low-cut turquoise sweater to her tiny pink and turquoise floral skirt. But his eyes didn’t stop there, but continued their inspection all the way down her bare legs to her high-heeled hot pink espadrilles into which her tiny feet snuggly fit. The pink ribbon strap wrapped around her slim ankle and tied off in a neat bow.

He grinned. “Yeah, I want you,” he said with a sly snicker. Not a lot of finesse in his style, but he was damn cute.

She smiled sweetly, then pursed her lips sexily, saying, “Well, I’m sorry, you can’t have me. I’m taken.” She flashed the diamonds and the wedding ring on her left hand.

But the young stud was not deterred by diamonds, not when a woman as sexy as this one was alone in a bar on a Wednesday afternoon. To Niki’s surprise, the young man suddenly lost his boyish snicker and turned into a very determined man, whispering in her ear, his voice real low. His finger was already tracing a line up her short skirt and heading directly into the damp valley between her thighs.

“Wedding ring or not, you look like a girl who needs to get screwed real hard.”

Niki blushed. All that tittering feeling that had been holding back for days now started waving a red flag in her face. Her lust was running high, her p***y throbbing as that invading finger was getting closer to the prize. She should have snapped her thighs together right then; the only way to save herself from sure ruin. But she waited a second too long, and the stud’s middle finger plunged directly into her p***y, grazing the throbbing head of her clit while on its way. She sighed heavily, aware that she had broken that bond of fidelity she’d just pledged to Bernardo not three months before. But as much as the married half of her screamed accusations, as much as the allegations of her adulterous crimes poured into her brain, it was not enough to keep the youthful exuberance of her s****l body from rising up to defeat that stuffy old conscience. She hadn’t done anything that was really fun in weeks. The romantic high of the wedding, the honeymoon and the house on the hill came crashing down the moment that sweet, studly male inserted his finger into her wet slit.

“So where does a guy like you go to screw a girl?” she wondered, her voice soft and yielding.

“Anywhere you like,” he slyly said.

“It can’t be too far, because I really should be getting home soon.”

“What? The married lady’s got to put on the apron and cook her man his dinner?”

“Hum. Something like that.”

They f****d in the parking lot in the back of his van, a 1980’s conversion van with orange shag carpet and rock and roll playing through the speakers. He took her like a stud would, like her husband had every time they’d had s*x, laying her out on her back and drilling her p***y as he hovered above her, humping her crotch for all he was worth. It wasn’t nice and it wasn’t pretty.

But it was a lot of fun.

He’d stripped her first, of course, because he wouldn’t let her go without having access to the glorious body she’d teased him with. For nearly ten minutes he suckled her perfectly formed t**s, nibbled her n*****s and drank in at least fifty bucks worth of her French perfume. She felt him opening a gaping hole in her body where the raw material of s*x poured out so quickly that she felt emptied within minutes, the flood of sensation nearly like an orgasm itself. When he found her p***y with his hand again, she shuddered, more tremors letting go as her flesh responded. Her clit throbbed hotter, faster, needier and another orgasm began to spasm through her body.

Then the furious missionary f**k began, with the young man pounding her p***y with a hard c**k thicker and longer than her husband’s. Quite an experience! Though he had none of Bernardo’s affection or finesse, this was savage, nothing like any f**k she could recall.

She came again when the stud came, just as she had trained herself to do with her husband. Wasn’t that expected?

And that was that. Nothing tender in the ending. The guy rolled from her body and lay panting, while Niki waited for some cue. What came next? she wondered in the awkward silence. Finally, feeling a little creepy in the sleazy van, she started to dress, then asked to leave.

“Sure, sweetheart.” As he opened the door latch, his big smile returned. He quickly wiggled back into his jeans and stood barefoot on the asphalt parking lot trying to draw her in for a goodbye kiss.

Niki hadn’t remembered kissing him before – though he probably nuzzled her neck enough to leave a hickey. Why should she kiss him now? She hadn’t wanted him for anything but the physical pleasure. She pushed away, smiling demurely, but clearly uninterested in that goodbye kiss.

At least he used a condom, she thought as she waved goodbye.

Niki made up her mind that day to insist on condoms should there be future one-night-stands with strangers. Too disrespectful to her husband otherwise.

She walked not a hundred feet to where the Porsche was parked and climbed in, while her hot stud stood beside his conversion van and shook his head, amazed. Women like Niki were one in a million and rarely landed in his universe. He sure got lucky that day.