Chapter Three
1576 Words
Chapter Three
I loved William Sage as my lover. I loved thinking of him that way. I would wake each morning blushing to myself over things we’d done together the day before. I imagined him naked. I imagined his stiff prick. And I imagined his powerful command over me that made my body feel in ways it was meant to feel.
Our first time together after my deflowering, we took a picnic to my secret glade. It was the perfect day for bathing myself in the warm sun. And this would be special having him at my side, just inches away from me.
“Take off your clothes,” he told me, when we were settled on the large flat rock.
I was acting sheepish, like that first time when I’d found him staring at me in the broad daylight. There was little to shed, but I was suddenly reluctant, feeling self conscious as he watched me with an attentive eye.
“Isabella,” he said sternly. “Remember the woman you’re becoming.”
His words gave me courage, and I lifted my arms to pull the light sundress over my head. I was left with only a shift, and my panties. Those were easily removed, so I was naked once again in his presence, though it seemed even more scandalous in the out of doors, just as my nude sunbathing always seemed a deliciously scandalous thing to do.
As Will watched me disrobe, all the familiar tingles and jerks were set off inside me. The twin forces of this exhibiting in the wild and before a man were having an astounding effect on me.
Will had me lie on my stomach while he massaged my body with firm sure hands. I was clamoring for another orgasm quickly, but he was making me wait, even though I groaned and complained. He slapped my bottom when I complained too much.
When he turned me over, I found him naked too. Though he’d screwed me well the day before in his cabin, I’d not seen him completely without clothes, and that sight was remarkable. His prick was already hard, and he lay back on my rock with the rude thing standing straight up as if it was saluting the sky.
“Come to me, Isabella,” he said. But instead of drawing me over his body so that he could enter me, he pushed me gently toward his hard c**k. “Play with it my love.”
I took the monstrous p***s in my hands and stroked it lightly, feeling this foreign thing, so strange and wonderful.
“Put your lips to the head,” he told me.
I looked at him and smiled, then did as I was instructed, my lips tentatively touching the smooth smooth skin. I could smell a musty warmth so close to his private place. His hair was not silky like my own, but as I would imagine a man’s to be. Strange to be exploring territory that was so alien, and yet men’s crotches were often close, just never so accessible.
“Put it in your mouth,” he went on.
I knew the tiny kisses were not enough for him. If a man required the strong forceful thrusts of a woman’s v****a to create an orgasm, an offered mouth must need to do the same. I complied, opening my lips and taking the head in my mouth, as a wicked feeling raced all around me. Though I thought this bizarre, something natural took over in me, and I found myself moving up and down with my mouth and tongue on his delicious rod. My hands fondled the soft round balls at the base, feeling sensations set off in me I would never have believed possible.
We took turns stoking his erection, but when he was ready to explode its force, he brought my mouth to the head again, and let the shooting c*m hit my face, my cheeks, my lips, my chin, so that it was running down my neck. The salty tang of masculinity was my gift, and I received it gratefully as another offering to the alter of my s****l education.
This whole raucous display was out of some shamelessly decadent drama. I was the queen of the fest, Will’s c**k the delicious fruit.
“Come to me, Isabella,” he said even before I could wipe his juice from my face. I drew up to his lips, and he kissed me. “Lesson two,” he said softly.
After that, I lay back on the rock and he pleased me, his caresses brought me to another edge so quickly, I really thought it was too fast.
“I’m so roused, Will, “I think I could climax endlessly.
“Then you will,” he said. He stroked me more and before I knew it, I was heading toward another orgasm. His hands were so expert in finding everything that pleased me. He found pleasure under my arms, in my breasts and even at the bottom of my feet. But when he had me roaring, moving madly against the hard rock, it was his hands and mouth again at my crotch, doing things I find it hard to describe, because all I paid attention to was the way it made me feel.
After we’d taken our pleasure, we bathed together in the small pond, letting ourselves cool in the soothing water. My greatest regret was going back home. The estate was so dank and cold and lifeless in comparison to my private glade and Will.
I saw my dear lover nearly every day as he schooled me in the art of making love. He did so with a skilled hand, and an eye that would become stern if I didn’t relent to his s****l wishes. He demanded that I listen and learn, not dive right into my lust blindly. He said the results were poor when I let just my loins rule. “Too quick, too brief, not the enjoyment you really want,” he must have said a dozen times.
“But we don’t have time for a lengthy screw,” I told him one afternoon, when I knew I had to be back at the house in just a slim hour’s time.
“Then we won’t make love,” he said.
“Oh no, please!” I pleaded with him, but he was firm. So firm that he playfully spanked my rear end a good half dozen times with a firm sharp slap of his hand, to emphasize his point.
“Remember you’re a woman, not a school girl, that is what this is all about.”
His love taps only made me all the more voracious for some relief, but I wouldn’t have anything, at least not until later. William was adamant. No manner of pleading or cajoling convinced him otherwise. I couldn’t understand how he could have such self control in the light of such terrific feelings.
That was the night I slipped out in the dead quiet of the wee hours. The house was still when I woke with too much s****l heat rising in me to let it go unanswered. But I didn’t want just to please myself. I wanted Will.
Going to my uncle’s bedroom door, I heard his restless snoring and knew he would not be waking soon. The maids and housekeepers were also in their beds. I had only to stay out of the light of the full moon, sticking to the shadows, to keep my quick journey a secret. I found Will’s door open, and I slipped silently inside. He was dead asleep, so deeply that I decided to rouse him with a very direct approach. Kneeling down at the side of his bed, I found his soft p***s under his bedclothes and I began to fondle it, until he began to stir.
“What are you doing here?” he suddenly jolted from his sleep.
“Making you happy,” I purred eagerly, with a smile he couldn’t see so much as feel.
“Have you gone mad, it’s the middle of the night!” he bellowed.
“I’m too horny to wait until tomorrow.”
“You bawdy wench,” he growled at me. “I should take a strap to your ass for being so foolhardy.”
“And I’d probably love it,” I purred back at him. I wouldn’t be dissuaded this time.
He wanted to protest more, but his body had overcome his mind, and his objections. He took me in his arms, and pulled me into bed with him, then stuffed his hard one to the hilt of my s*x. I was exploding from the inside out.
He was furious with me, and I could tell by the way he made love to me. He was slapping my ass in regular intervals, which only made me groan and sigh and shoot wild darts of energy his way. He banged me as hard as he ever had, with such firm repeated thrusts, I was becoming certain that he was holding back his pleasure, just because he wanted to punish me for being there. Ah! What punishment! I loved every hard, jolting, savage stroke of that c**k in me.
I think he hated it because I took control that night, because I’d aroused him without his conscious choice. He didn’t like not being in charge of his passions. I orgasmed quickly, with one long, rolling, lovely jolt that would settle me down and put me to sleep in seconds; though to my dismay, William was not about to let me sleep with him. It was far too dangerous.
“You get the hell in the house before your uncle discovers you missing,” he told me, when we’d finished.
“Ah, he’s dead to the world, William. I could stay here at least until five.”
“No,” he said firmly, as he gave my bottom another rude swat.
“You leave now, or I’ll take my belt and treat you like a child, not the woman you claim to be.”
I laughed as I blew him a quick kiss; then I raced back to the house.
- Writer
