Indecent Intent Read online

  ‘And so because of your poor behavior, I’ll have to punish you now,’ he decreed.

  She felt the bed move as he got up, and raised her head to watch him move across the room. He was a powerful man with broad shoulders, narrow waist and taut buttocks. She saw his hand go to his groin and she whimpered.

  ‘For that you don’t deserve to be fucked,’ he said, still with his back to her.

  ‘Oh, please.’ Gabrielle knew he liked her to plead with him for the pleasure of his body.

  His sturdy legs moved apart; he was jerking himself off. She could see his elbow moving back and forth and knew his hand was working on the shaft of his erect cock.

  ‘I need you, Tom,’ she said softly.

  ‘You whore,’ he grunted, his breathing ragged; he was very close to coming.

  ‘If you don’t want to fuck me,’ she said, her voice plaintive and soft, ‘at least humiliate me by coming on me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he growled, ‘that’s what I fully intend to do.’

  He moved backwards across the room as if he even wanted to deny her the pleasure of seeing his turgid cock, then he was standing on the bed, his legs spread wide, his cock thrust forward, his balls drawn high. ‘Drink it down,’ he ordered. ‘There’s plenty of it because that’s how you affect me, you dirty little whore.’

  Gabrielle obediently opened her mouth and closed her green eyes.

  ‘Look at me, you bitch.’

  Her eyes opened again and she saw the grimace on his face, saw the first throb of his climax, saw his globe gleam with pre-issue. The first splash landed on her breasts and she heard him grunt his pleasure. He swayed a little over her, grunting as each wave of pleasure rocked his body. Gabrielle licked the salty bitterness that drooled down over her parted lips, collecting the warm cream as quickly as she could.

  ‘Drink it…’

  ‘I am,’ she assured him huskily, but as his orgasm neared its completion he dropped to the soft mattress, his knees astride her hips, wiping the spillage of his come into the dip of her quivering tummy and over her heaving breasts.

  Only then did he consent to lie beside her, giving her slow but affectionate kisses, then petting her swollen nipples with his lips and tongue. He continued to massage his seed into her tummy and pubic mound until, at last, his sensual fingers slid into the wetness of her slit, making her groan again with longing.

  ‘You’re soaking,’ he murmured into the warm soft sweep of her neck.

  ‘What do you expect?’ It was her own loving Tom who was lying beside her again, not the animal who had abused her only moments before. She sighed as his middle finger petted her clitoris, dipping into her slippery opening. She couldn’t help but urge against his touch, arching her bound body as much as she could.

  ‘Shall I kiss you there?’ he teased. ‘Would you like that? Are you ready for it?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured, but in spite of the intimacy of the moment, she couldn’t shake off the horrible feeling that they were being watched, but the way she felt, so aroused and wanton, so tightly bound and vulnerable, she chose to dismiss the strange feeling and concentrate on what her husband was doing for her. ‘Do whatever you want,’ she encouraged him, ‘and as hard as you want.’

  ‘Shall I suck your clitoris?’ he teased.

  The room was warm. The heating was turned up because it was March and a cold wind was blowing across the desert. There was snow on the mountains, but their loving was so intense that their bodies were slick with sweat.

  ‘Yes, please suck it,’ she murmured, straining against the bonds and trying to lift her head from the pillows to watch him slide down her body.

  He knelt between her parted thighs, his fingers driving into the toned muscles, blue eyes glinting with renewed lust as he observed how far he could push her. ‘Finger up your ass, my darling wife?’ he offered crudely. ‘My tongue in your cunt?’ His voice was thick with need.

  ‘Anything…’ she whispered, wishing, just this once, that her hands were free so she could twist her fingers in his unruly brown hair and press his face to her open crotch.

  His breath was warm as he opened his mouth on her heated sex flesh. Gabrielle tensed, arched towards his face. She felt his fingers part her swollen outer sex lips and smooth the inner folds to ensure that her clitoris stood proud and erect, unhindered by anything. He kissed it, taking the bud of flesh between his lips, drawing the tiny hood fully back. She shuddered with delight and felt the pressure of a finger probing at her anus, pushing very gently until it was fully inside. It drew back and forth and she wished his cock was pillaging her rear instead.

  ‘Nice?’ His tanned face rose from between her thighs. His lips glistened with her juices, but his finger still drove slowly back and forth in her rectum.

  ‘Mmmm,’ she purred, bearing down his hand. ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Do you want me to untie you?’

  ‘No, and don’t stop what you’re doing.’ She could see his cock rearing up between his own thighs. ‘Unless…’ His cock looked gorgeous, thick and long, its globe probing from his rolled-back foreskin.

  ‘Unless what?’

  Gabrielle moved frantically against her bonds. ‘I want you to use your cock instead of your finger. Untie me,’ she could scarcely speak for excitement, ‘and turn me over.’

  His face changed, became dark and broody. ‘Don’t give me orders; you know better than to give me orders,’ but she felt his fingers about her ankles as he unfastened the knots. ‘Okay, I’ll fuck your ass. I’ll do what you want, but not the way you want it.’ Roughly, he flung her legs over her shoulders until her knees almost touched the crisp white pillows. She knew her sex and anus were fully exposed to him and wicked naughtiness thrilled her. He spread her legs fully on each side of her head and she felt the warm wetness of his tongue between her taut buttocks.

  ‘You’re a born whore, Gabrielle,’ he said, kneeling up and positioning himself. She felt him slide the length of his cock over her slit, wetting it with her juices. She knew she was breathing fast and shallow as she waited for the pressure and the pleasure.

  ‘I’m not a whore,’ she countered breathlessly. ‘I’ve never taken money in exchange for my body. Never.’

  Tom thumbed her clitoris and she whimpered. ‘But you love sex,’ he goaded. ‘You love to be degraded, and humiliated, and used – don’t you? Come on, dear wife of mine, admit it.’ His slippery globe was at the wrinkled bud of her bottom, pushing until the tight opening began to yield. ‘And that’s what I love about you.’

  Gabrielle sighed, part with pain and part with pleasure. His cock was thick, but she still bore against it. ‘Yes, I admit it,’ she murmured. ‘I love it. I love everything you do to me.’

  He was inside her, sliding deep into her rectum. ‘Especially this, eh? It’s a pity I can’t get money for your gorgeous ass.’ He was fully embedded, grunting and straining with pleasure, his groin pressed hard against her buttocks. ‘You’re so submissive…’ His breathing was hoarse, rasping. ‘You’re so passive.’

  Suddenly the pleasure she’d felt from this latest humiliating invasion evaporated and she froze around him, tight as a tourniquet. For some strange reason she could not shake off the horrible feeling they were being watched.

  ‘Oh, that’s beautiful, babe!’ he crooned, oblivious to her concerns.

  The pain in her arms, tied to the bedposts for so long, began to increase, and her legs ached from the contorted position.

  ‘I – I can’t hold on much longer,’ he grunted through gritted teeth, and sweat dripped from the tip of his nose onto Gabrielle’s breasts. ‘I’m going to come in your fucking ass! Will you like that, my little whore? You will, won’t you?’

  Tom was pressing her sex lips apart as he drove into her bottom. Something, maybe a finger, or maybe a thumb, or maybe the phallic handle of the flail, was rubbing her sex bud at
the same time. Gabrielle, despite the nagging conviction of being watched, was again almost delirious with pleasure, crazy with love and lust. She couldn’t help but scream as she felt him pulse inside her… but was that her imagination or did she hear the door of their suite open and hear a suppressed girlish giggle?

  ‘In some states this wouldn’t be allowed,’ said a deep, very English voice. ‘Isn’t that correct, my dear?’

  Gabrielle felt her bottom muscles contract even more tightly around Tom’s cock.

  ‘Jeez, honey!’ he grunted. ‘Not so hard! My cock can only take so much!’ In his passion he hadn’t heard the door or the giggle or the clipped voice.

  Gabrielle tugged desperately at her bonds. They were not alone. Now she knew it for certain; they had been watched from somewhere and now they were not alone. She peeped over Tom’s broad shoulder and she felt all colour drain from her face. He was still blissfully unaware of their visitors as he rutted against her. His cock still throbbed powerfully within her and he tried to claim her mouth with his, but her lips were dry and she was more concerned about what she could see.

  ‘No Tom, don’t,’ she begged quietly. ‘No, you don’t understand.’

  ‘Don’t understand what?’ he croaked, gripping her chin unnecessarily tight, forcing her to look into his blue eyes. ‘What are you talking about? What gives?’

  Tears spilled down her flushed cheeks and soaked into the pillow. ‘Look,’ she managed, ‘behind you. Look, Tom, please…’

  Tom, realizing something was not right, followed her gaze over his shoulder to the elegant Louis XV sofa by the door. ‘What the… what the hell?’ he spluttered.

  ‘What the hell, indeed?’ echoed one of the intruders, sitting there, totally at ease, a look of amusement on his face. ‘Your treatment of your wife is verging on the brutal, I have to say.’ It was the distinguished man Gabrielle had noticed downstairs, and beside him was the lovely blonde.

  Gabrielle felt Tom’s cock instantly shrivel and slide from her, and she watched him move quickly down the bed to struggle into his jeans, but he made no move to release her or help cover her own nakedness. Shamefully, she lowered her legs and squeezed them tightly together.

  ‘Who the fucking hell are you?’ Tom growled at the intruders. ‘And who the fuck let you in here?’ He then at least tossed the corner of the tumbled bedcover over Gabrielle’s legs, but she knew her sex was still partly visible. The lush curls of her pubis, moist from her juices, escaped the carelessly thrown cover, and she could feel the warmth of Tom’s seed trickling between her bottom cheeks. Her trembling belly and breasts were exposed and her wrists were still bound tightly to the bedposts.

  The man laughed effortlessly. ‘Who let us in does not matter,’ he said. ‘And besides, we’d been enjoying ourselves watching your performance long before we made our discreet entrance.’ He waved an elegant hand at a mirror on the wall opposite the foot of the bed.

  ‘You’ve been watching us through that?’ Tom frowned as he reached for his T-shirt.

  ‘Indeed – it’s a two-way,’ explained the visitor. He stood up and Gabrielle felt more naked and exposed than ever, his expensive double-breasted pinstripe navy suit somehow making her feel that way. ‘I’m Marshall Verity,’ he said. ‘I’m a…’

  ‘I know who you are, Mr Verity; I read the papers,’ Tom said. ‘And I know you’re extremely wealthy. But what the fuck—?’

  Marshall Verity’s confident laugh interrupted Tom’s tirade even before he got into full flow, looking at Gabrielle in a way that made her feel awfully vulnerable, awfully used, and more humiliated than ever. ‘I am extremely wealthy,’ he said with a satisfied grin, ‘you are right. And I am into enjoying as many women as I can lay my hands on,’ he added, and then reached back and, immediately, the stylishly dressed girl took it. And she didn’t object when Verity lifted her short skirt, smoothed her naked belly and caressed the frilled suspenders that framed her naked sex.

  ‘Well, I’ll…’ Tom gawped between the milk-white thighs that were so willingly displayed. ‘She’s as smooth as silk! Not a wisp of hair… do you see that, honey?’ he said to Gabrielle.

  Unwillingly, she stared at the girl’s shaven mound, but she had to secretly admit that the mouth-watering sight turned her on. She imagined how she would feel if shaved like that, and felt her clitty pulse with renewed excitement.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Marshall Verity coaxed, probing for reactions. He let his fingers stroke back and forth over the shaven mound, let them drift over the silky outer lips. ‘And she’s all mine.’ He slapped the girl’s thighs. ‘Open a little wider, my dear,’ he encouraged, ‘and show these nice people how completely you are mine.’

  Tom gave a grunt of surprise and delight as the girl seductively angled her hips a little. ‘She’s ringed!’ he enthused, his eyes glinting hungrily. His lips were arched in a wicked smile and he rubbed the crotch of his jeans, which were already significantly tented again. ‘Doesn’t she mind?’ he asked like an excited teenager. ‘Does it hurt her?’ He moved forward to be closer to the newcomer and the girl, and for some reason Gabrielle found herself becoming breathless at the thought of belonging to a man like Marshall Verity.

  ‘It doesn’t hurt, Susan, does it?’ Marshall Verity asked of the girl. He slipped a finger through the ring that held the succulent inner lips together.

  The girl shook her shimmering cascade of naturally blonde hair, and Gabrielle found herself straining at the bonds about her wrists, wanting to be closer too.

  ‘The ring is quite wide in diameter, you see,’ said Verity, and with a hand in the small of her back he guided the girl towards Tom, who stood speechless, his mouth hanging open. ‘Wide enough to take a tongue through its centre,’ he added, as he walked slowly towards the bed, ‘but not so wide as to allow the intrusion of an erect penis.’

  Gabrielle clenched her thighs tightly together, but the cover Tom had carelessly thrown over her completely slipped away and she was totally naked once more. Verity gave a soft chuckle as he watched her strain at the bonds around her wrists.

  ‘C-can I?’ Tom stumbled, his voice little more than an animalistic grunt, his anger at the trespassers forgotten – his wife forgotten.

  ‘A can, I believe,’ Verity said imperiously, not looking at Tom, keeping his eyes sharply focused on the lovely vision tied to the bed, ‘is what you Americans preserve meat in, is it not?’ He sat next to her on the mattress and she could not help but tremble and flinch away. He was so different from anyone she had ever known. ‘The phrase you are looking for, I believe, is: “May I?”’ His manicured fingers cupped each of her breasts in turn, felt their smoothness, their firmness, and the tautness of each nipple. And then he nodded with satisfaction.

  Venturing a quick glance at Tom, Gabrielle saw her husband frown at Verity’s supercilious correction, but his eyes were still glued to the silent blonde, his tongue virtually hanging out. ‘Okay,’ she heard him whisper impatiently, ‘whatever you say… May I?’

  Gabrielle closed her eyes as she saw her husband’s hand slowly cup the bloom of the girl’s smooth cunt, glimpsed a finger slide in her to the knuckle, watched the girl’s little silent sigh of delight. Tears squeezed from her tightly closed lashes and meandered afresh down her cheeks, around her cute ear lobes, before again soaking down into the plush pillows.

  Verity ignored Tom’s rude sneer, and used the man’s distraction as an opportunity to ease his wife’s thighs apart with cool hands. He smiled at her as he picked up the flail, draped it across the flat dip of her tummy, and fingered the smoothly carved handle. ‘This little bush will have to go,’ he said, almost hypnotically, drifting his fingertips across the lushness of her pubic curls. ‘I like my girls as smooth as silk and easily accessible.’ He smoothed the curly fronds away from her slit, baring the flushed inner skin, exposing the prominently erect clitty.

  Gabrielle cast pleading
eyes across the room, but Tom was far too engrossed, too oblivious to be aware of anything but the lovely blonde girl. He was on his knees and the girl sprawled on the little Louis XV sofa, her eyes closed as Tom’s tongue darted through the gold ring into the silky purse of her sex.

  Gabrielle tried to choke back a sob of despair. ‘Oh, how easily your husband forgets you,’ taunted Verity. ‘Only moments ago he was being intimate with you, and now…’ He shrugged, shook his head in mock disappointment, and tutted. ‘Are all American husbands so disloyal, my dear?’ He pushed the knob of the phallus between her spread sex lips, making her gasp, partly from dismay and partly with pleasure. He eased the polished wooden cock deeper. ‘See how deep his tongue sinks into her,’ he whispered. He bent over her and Gabrielle could feel the slight roughness of his immaculate suit against her breasts, the coldness of the blue stained ivory buttons of his jacket against her burning skin. ‘You might not exist, for all he cared.’

  His teeth grated the tightness of each nipple in turn and he grinned at her, his brown eyes dark and unfathomable as he raised his well-groomed head. ‘Has he ever been unfaithful before?’ he asked.

  Gabrielle bucked instinctively against the wooden cock and Verity laughed. ‘It turns you on, does it not?’ He slid the smooth thickness back and forth in a slow sensual rhythm. ‘It turns you on to watch your husband licking another girl’s cunt?’ With his free hand he massaged the flat tautness of her belly, pressing hard as though feeling the length of the phallus through her flesh. ‘Tell me…’ The slow rhythm of the wooden cock and his palm became more insistent. His face was set in an emotionless expression that chilled Gabrielle to her bones, although for the life of her she couldn’t have said why. It was as if she had a glimpse of her future – and she didn’t like what she saw at all.