together on a bench, my
young fugitive snuggled up beside me. I slid my hands inside the
cloak and rubbed her for comfort and warmth, though all too soon
other notions entered my head.
I wasn't the
only one having ideas, it seemed, for she turned her face up to me.
'Will you kiss me, sir?' she asked softly.
'I will if
you'll take off your mask,' I said.
'Kiss me
first.'
And so I did,
and she responded in kind - and a more tender, loving kiss I'd
never received in all my life. I found myself fondling her firm
breasts without conscious thought, but when my hand slid lower she
pressed her thighs together.
'Do you wish
to do lewd things to me too, sir?' There was no anger or resentment
in her voice, just a hint of melancholy, perhaps.
It was
tempting to say no, to reassure her, and then have my way with her
by slow degree, but I found I couldn't stoop so low. Some quality
about her demanded honesty and respect, despite her lowly
status.
'I confess I
do,' I said, 'for you are a truly delightful creature, though I
don't know your name.'
There was a
moment's hesitation before she spoke. 'Please call me Bella.'
'And you must
call me Jamie.' I had no idea why I said it, for only those close
to me used the diminutive. At that moment, however, holding her
tightly, it seemed entirely appropriate. 'And now may I remove your
mask?'
'If you wish,
Jamie.'
I untied the
ribbon and lifted the red mask away. My first thought was that she
was the loveliest woman I had ever set eyes on, with her flawless
complexion, sensuous lips and beautiful, astonishingly clear green
eyes. My second was that she was a little older than I'd thought -
in her mid-twenties, perhaps.
'But who
are—?'
Before I could
finish the question she clamped her mouth to mine. Our first kiss
had been tender; now she was all fire, her lips bruising mine and
her tongue thrusting into my mouth. She started to undress me,
tearing at the buttons on my coat and shirt while showering me with
kisses all the while. Soon I was assisting her efforts, casting off
garments left and right, so that in no time at all we were rolling
naked on the summerhouse floor in a fever of anticipation.
'Fuck me,
Jamie!' she gasped, wrapping her legs around my waist. 'Fuck
me!'
Such words
from those sweet lips sounded shocking indeed, but I had no time to
ponder it, overwhelmed by need as I was. She let out an ardent cry
and threw her arms about my neck as I entered her. I thrust deep,
half fearful of hurting her, half wanting to hear her scream, while
she clung to me panting. I lasted a few minutes only, as fierce and
urgent as our coupling was, so that all too soon I was grunting as
I drove into her to spend my seed. We lay gasping for many long
seconds, then I rolled over onto my back, pulling her on top of me
so we lay face to face.
I drew my
cloak over us and we rested there, Bella sighing contentedly as I
stroked her neck and back, murmuring endearments to her all the
while. When eventually I grew stiff again she took hold of my cock
and lifted her hips, as though to take me in that fashion. I was
having none of it, however. The first time I'd left her far behind
in my selfish haste, but that wouldn't happen again. I rolled her
gently onto her back, kissing her lips, throat, breasts and belly
as my lips tracked down that firm, slender torso. I parted her
thighs and nuzzled my face in her groin, my tongue seeking her
slit. She moaned and grasped my hair, pulling me closer still. I
tongued her slowly, to prolong her pleasure and mine.
Though
self-praise is no recommendation, I can say that I was then, and
indeed still am, highly skilled at cunnilingus. It would be strange
if I weren't, for I'd been practising on my grandfather's maids
since I was old enough for them to take me seriously. And every
trick I'd learned over the years, every technique I knew for
pleasing a woman, I used there in the summerhouse with Bella. She
sobbed and stiffened beneath me as I sucked her clitoris, her
Stephen G. Michaud, Roy Hazelwood