Chapter Four
I need to come right now. Holy shit, she was getting bold. Or desperate. Or both. Serena couldn’t believe she’d just told Michael she needed an orgasm. Actually it was more than that—she’d demanded one. But, dammit, she did need one. Her body shuddered, begging for release. The visuals all around her excited her more than she ever expected. Michael’s hands on her only added to her already near-frenzied anticipation.
She could care less if he threw her to the ground and fucked her right there. In fact, she’d welcome it with open legs.
“You need to come? Right now? Right here? With all these people around you?” he teased, his ragged voice rough against her ear.
“Yes,” she managed through rapid breaths. “Right here. I don’t care. I want it now!”
She heard his husky laugh, felt his cock pressing urgently against her ass, and knew he wanted it as much as she did.
“Tell me,” he said, moving to her side and running his hands over the swell of her hip, then lower. “Tell me which one of the scenes you’re watching turns you on the most?”
What scenes? That would require thought. How could she think when his hands were edging ever closer to that pulsating spot between her legs? Her juices seeped down her thigh and she throbbed with an ache that threatened to drop her to her knees. Now she had to think?
Turning her gaze to the stage, she scanned the participants and made her choice. The one her eyes kept coming back to, time and time again.
“The woman stroking the two guys,” she managed between gasps. Michael’s fingers burned against the skin of her upper thigh. He slowly began to raise the hem of her dress. Her heat level rose with every centimeter.
“Why?” he whispered, pressing his erection against her hip, thrusting it against her like she was dying for him to thrust inside her. Hard, relentless, just like she wanted him to fuck her.
What was it about the scene that struck her? The fact a woman serviced two men, or that the woman seemed to be enjoying it so much? The woman’s eyes were near closed, her mouth open, and she periodically licked her lips as if she really wanted to wrap her mouth around one of the cocks she stroked.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s so erotic.”
“You like stroking a man’s cock, Serena?”
“Yes . . . Oh God, yes.” She wasn’t certain if her response pertained more to the fantasy come to life in front of her, or that Michael’s fingers were bare inches from her clit.
“Would you like to stroke two guys at the same time?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” How could she think when his touch turned her body to liquid, flaming lava? “Oh yes, Michael, there. Touch me there.”
His fingers found the magic spot. Hell, her entire body was a magic spot right now. The incredible sensation of his hands searching through her wet folds almost sent her over the edge. But she held off, wanting to prolong the pure ecstasy of finally having Michael’s hands on her.
A ragged moan escaped her lips and he murmured in her ear. “You’re so wet, Serena. You like my fingers gliding over your clit and your slick, wet pussy, don’t you?”
She arched her back against him in response, pushing her mound against his fingers. His thumb stroked her clit like a violin—back and forth he played her, just the right rhythm to heighten the intensity level. He knew just how to touch her, shooting off sparks of pleasure that reverberated through her.
He kept one hand on her breast—fondling, tweaking the nipple, which sent shocks of desire straight down to the ache between her legs. It wasn’t going to take much longer, she knew it. And yet she wanted to hold back, wanted to savor the moment. It had been so long since a man had touched her. And no man had ever touched her like this.
When he slipped two fingers between the folds of her lips and inserted them inside her, she whimpered long and low. “Oh, God, you’re going to make me come.”
“Come on baby,” he whispered, his fingers sliding slowly in and out, his thumb drawing torturous circles against her clit. “Come for me.”
She tilted her head back against his shoulder, pushed her mound against his hand and screamed out with a shattering orgasm. Spasms racked her body and she shuddered as shock after shock of piercing pleasure arced through her.
It seemed to last forever, and was over way too soon. Gasping for breath, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy was nearly impossible. Michael breathed deeply against her, ruffling the hair against the side of her face.
“That was nice, babe,” he whispered, continuing to stroke her slit. “Very nice. My hand is soaked with your come.”
She’d felt it, the gushing fluid pouring out of her as her pussy clamped down around his fingers. Never had she had an orgasm like that—never. Not even the ones she’d given herself were that intense, and she knew her own body better than any man ever could.
At least she thought she had. Now, she wasn’t sure. Michael had instinctively known exactly where to touch her, concentrating his strokes on areas that pleasured her the most. She hadn’t even had to guide his hand to her sweet spot. He’d known right where to go.
And now, it was his turn.
She turned to face him, winding her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered, nestling close against him, his cock straining against her pelvis.
“You’re welcome.” His eyes were dark blue pools. His breathing was shallow, his shoulders rising and falling with every fevered breath.
“I’m going to make you come now, Michael.”
He sucked in a breath. “Do it. I need it after touching you, listening to you, feeling your pussy clench and gush all over my hand.”
He needed her. Could one person handle this much pleasure?
Watching the scenes before her, both onstage and in the voyeur area, had taken her sexual excitement to a new peak. She wanted to experience everything she’d watched. Wanted Michael’s penis in her hands, wanted to taste the drops of come that would drip from the tip once she circled her lips around him.
Her eyes never leaving his face, she dropped to her knees before him.
He shuddered a breath and looked down.
With two hands she grasped the sides of his shorts and pulled them down over his hips and thighs.
He wore no underwear, either. His erection sprang out in front of her. Huge, hard, almost as if it had a mind of its own and searching for her.
“Wow.”
With a laugh, Michael said, “You like it?”
“Oh yeah.” He was built quite well. Had to be at least eight inches, thick and nicely shaped. Even tilted upward a little, guaranteeing he’d hit her G-spot when he fucked her. The thought of that big cock filling her had her licking her lips in anticipation. Which wasn’t the only thing she wanted to do with her lips. She could already imagine wrapping her mouth around the ridged edge of his shaft and sucking him in.
Without hesitation she took his cock in her hand and was immediately rewarded with a guttural groan from Michael. His heat pulsed against her palm.
“Feels like I’ve been waiting years for you to get your hands on my cock.”
“I know. I feel the same way. If I’d have known what I was missing, I’d have gotten to it first thing yesterday.”
“Well, it’s yours now, baby. Get to it.”
Turning the tables on him, she hesitated, her gaze riveted on his. “Tell me what you see that turns you on the most.”
He smiled darkly at her. “That’s easy. The couple standing up. She’s leaning over the chair, he’s fucking her from behind.”
“You like that?” she asked, using both her hands to stroke him, gently but firmly, his shaft pulsing with energy.
“Oh yeah. I like that. I’m gonna fuck you that way this week.”
The image of his thick cock slamming into her from behind made her shiver. She felt the damp spurts of arousal between her legs, her body awakening again. “Oh, I hope so.”
“You have great hands,” he said, watching her every move.
Serena was shocked at their erotic play. She’d never been so brazen, so willing to experiment right out in the open with people watching. He made her forget the other people, made her forget everything but him. She’d even screamed out her orgasm with all these people around her, and hadn’t cared one damn bit. And now she had Michael’s huge shaft in her hands. She slid her thumb over the tip, rewarded when a bead of moisture seeped from its head and spilled over onto her finger. She slipped her finger in her mouth and moaned at the sheer pleasure of tasting him.
He growled low and long, watching her.
“You taste great, Michael. Salty and sweet.” She leaned in to take him into her mouth, but he stopped her.
“Save that,” he rasped. “I want something else.”
“What?”
“Undo the top of your dress. I want to see your breasts.”
Her nipples puckered and came to life as if they’d heard his words. She undid the button at her neck and slid the halter down until it rested at her waist.
His eyes lit up and his lips curved into a smile. “You have gorgeous breasts.”
She ached for his touch, his mouth, his tongue on her engorged nipples. She could barely balance on her haunches with the way he was looking at her.
“Stroke my cock. I want to come on your breasts.”
Serena settled back on her knees, excited beyond words at Michael’s suggestion. She’d get to watch. Watch his shaft grow and harden, pulsate in her hand until he shot his load all over her breasts. Another first for her. Everything with him had been a first, and an unexpected glimpse into her own fantasies.
She wanted everything with him. Starting with this.
“That’s it,” he murmured, guiding her as she stroked the length of him. “Nice and slow. Now squeeze a little harder, I want it to feel like my cock is in your tight pussy. “
Gripping him firmly, she slid her enclosed hands from the tip of his penis to the base, reveling in his sounds of pleasure. Keeping one hand on his shaft, her motions constant, she slid the other underneath and cupped his balls.
Michael bucked against her, driving his cock harder and faster into her hand. She squeezed his balls lightly while maintaining the rhythmic stroking.
“Oh, yeah, like that,” he said.
Despite her position on her knees in front of him, Serena felt empowered. She controlled his cock with her hands, controlled the amount of pleasure she gave him. He was totally and completely at her mercy, and she was relentless in her desire to please him.
Like the woman who’d jacked off those two men, she was in charge. Judging from the sweat glistening over Michael’s stomach and legs and the distended veins running over the surface of his cock, she was doing a pretty damn good job.
The head of his penis colored a deep purple as he forced his length through her eager hands. From his increased movements, she could sense he was getting close. Feeling a near triumphant satisfaction, she stepped up her efforts, closing the circle her hands provided, making him work harder to penetrate the tight hold she had on him, squeezing him until he groaned long and low.
“Shit. Oh fuck, baby, yeah. Like that. Faster. I can’t hold off much longer.”
His voice rasped as he thrust harder against her. She leaned back so that he could watch. With one long shout of ecstasy he shot a hot stream of come all over her breasts, his cock pulsing against her hand.
It was the most erotic experience she’d ever had. Listening to him, feeling him, knowing she’d been responsible for giving him this pleasure, made her body ache for more.
She kept up her strokes, slowly, gently, until she’d milked every last drop of come from him. Then she sat back, supremely pleased with herself and smiled up at him.
Michael blew out a breath, pulled up his shorts and grabbed a towel. He lifted her to a standing position and wiped her breasts, sliding the towel over her distended nipples until she was breathing hard again.
“Thank you,” he said after she’d refastened her halter.
“You’re welcome.”
Finally focusing again on the people around her, most were in the aftereffects of their own orgasms. How had she missed it all? She’d been so occupied with Michael she hadn’t once stopped to look at the action around her.
Apparently, at least for her, the voyeurism was exciting only to the point where she focused on the man with her. After that, she’d tuned them out completely.
Couples had begun to depart. She and Michael followed, heading back to their room. A comfortable silence accompanied their walk through the gardens. Serena wondered what he was thinking, but despite the intimacy they’d just shared, she didn’t feel right asking.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said as soon as they entered the suite.
She went to do the same, stepping into to her own bedroom to clean up. As the water sprayed over her body, Serena recalled every erotic moment of today’s adventure. The event had exceeded her wildest expectations. She’d even surprised herself. Thinking she’d be shy at first, once they’d gotten started and she watched everyone around her going at it, engaging in sexual play right there with Michael seemed as natural as breathing.
Was it the location, was it her, or was it her partner? She was comfortable with Michael. He encouraged her fantasies, not once turning down anything she suggested. He was perfect.
Whoa. Not perfect. Just for the week. Just for sex. She had to keep reminding herself that this was temporary. She had no relationship with Michael other than as a sexual partner. To think otherwise would be disastrous. When this week was over, they’d go their separate ways, and the only thing she’d be taking back to Kansas with her would be memories.
After slipping on a pair of shorts and a tube top, Serena came out of the bedroom to find Michael. He was on the couch, his hair still damp from his shower. As she was finding typical, he wore only navy shorts and no shirt.
He turned when she came in, and smiled at her. “Nice outfit,” he said, eyeing her from head to toe appreciatively.
“Thanks.” She warmed under his gaze and took a seat on the couch. Not close like they were earlier, somehow she felt it would be presumptuous to cuddle up next to him.
“You sure dress differently than when you first got here.”
“Those were my ‘Kansas college professor’ clothes,” she explained before looking down at the tight shorts and matching black tube top that barely contained her breasts. “This is my vacation wear.”
He laughed. “I see. Not much call for skimpy, sexy little outfits where you live, huh?”
“Hardly.”
“You should try southern California sometime. It’s the dressing norm.”
Ah, so that was where he lived? “I’ve never been to California.”
“It’s nice. Kind of like this, only not so tropical.”
California sounded wonderful. And free.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
“Want to see what’s in the fridge?”
She nodded and they headed into the kitchen together.
Each suite came with a fully stocked kitchen. They decided on an omelet, which Michael offered to fix. She chopped the mushrooms and ham while he prepared the egg mixture, then dumped in the meat and vegetables and some shredded cheese. Serena heard her stomach grumble. Michael must have, too.
“I know,” he said. “Sex works up an appetite, doesn’t it?”
Sex. Now the subject was out in the open. “Yes, it would seem so.”
“Don’t you get hungry after sex?”
With her back to him as she poured juice into glasses and pulled out dishes and utensils, she shrugged. “I really wouldn’t know. I haven’t had that much sex in my lifetime.”
She turned to him, plates in hand, as he shifted the omelets from the pan to the plates. They walked out onto the balcony to eat and watch the sun set over the ocean.
The omelets were delicious. The man could even cook, wonder of wonders. Was there anything he couldn’t do?
“What did you mean, you haven’t had much sex?” he asked in between mouthfuls.
Serena swallowed and took a drink of juice. “Well, not much good sex, anyway.”
He laughed. “Then they didn’t do it right.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Just how experienced are you?” he asked.
“I’ve had a few relationships. Not much, and certainly not the kind I can experience here.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I worked my way through college, all the way to getting my PhD. Wasn’t much time for the typical college relationships. Plus, I stayed close to home.”
“What? They don’t have guys in your town?” he teased.
She laughed. “Yeah, they do, but it wasn’t like I was going to tell any of the guys I had sex with that I had all these kinky ideas and wanted to explore them.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Afraid, I guess.”
“Of?”
“Small towns are notoriously incestuous. Everyone knows everyone. And knows what everyone is doing, and with whom. I knew I’d want to stay there to teach, and all it would have taken was one guy to spout off about my unusual fantasies and it would have been all over town.”
He quirked a brow. “You don’t give guys much credit.”
“Correction. I didn’t give the guys I’d slept with much credit. And anyway, I was too busy for an active sex life, so there were only a few.”
“A few isn’t a lot, is it?” he asked.
She sighed. “Not nearly enough.”
“Is that why you’re here? Because you wanted more in depth experience?”
She pushed her now empty plate to the side. “I guess so. I don’t know, really. It’s not like there are a ton of guys I could indulge my fantasies with in the tiny town where I live. Reputation and all.”
He nodded. “Not seemly for a college professor to be seen cavorting at nudist camps and swingers parties, huh?”
She snorted a laugh. “I’d lose my job, and everything I’ve worked for.”
“Why don’t you move to a larger city? Where you could be a little more anonymous?”
“Roots, I guess. I grew up not far from there, so I just stayed in my own back yard.”
“You have family nearby?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. My parents are both dead and I have no other relatives.”
“I’m sorry.” He laid his hand over hers.
“Thank you. It was a long time ago, when I was barely out of high school. Stupid car crash on icy roads.” All these years and still the pain of their loss clenched at her heart.
“How long ago?” he asked, obviously curious about her age.
“I’m twenty-eight, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He didn’t say anything, so she asked. “How old are you, Michael?”
“I’m thirty-three.”
She’d guessed right.
“Must have been tough for you, trying to go to college and having no support.”
“I managed.”
“Is that what you’re doing now, Serena? Just managing?”
She met his gaze. The concern etched on his features made her uncomfortable. His questions made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t there to delve into anything but the sexual things lacking in her life. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“Managing isn’t the same as living, you know. You’ve got a vibrancy, a natural zest for life and excitement that you’re obviously not fulfilling in that dinky little hovel you live in. Vacations like this are fun and all, but eventually you have to go home.”
“I’m doing fine,” she asserted, not wanting to think about her real life during this week of adventure.
“Fine. Managing. This is fantasy, Serena. When you get back home next week, you’ll be living. Or, should I say, ‘managing.’ It’s not good enough. A woman like you shouldn’t wither away in an unfulfilling existence. You need a different life.”
She stood, intending to gather the plates and wash the dishes. Running, that’s what she was doing. Running away from thoughts of how miserable her life was. She didn’t need this, not right now, not when she’d just started to have fun.
Michael stopped her, his hand grasping her wrist before she could pile the plates in her arms. “Don’t run away. Talk about this.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you care about me? What we have together is only a week of fun and games. Nothing more. When it’s over, you’ll go back to California and I’ll go back to Kansas, and that’s the end. My personal life is none of your business.”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. Anger and something else—frustration, maybe, etched his face. “Maybe not. But this week you’re my business. And my pleasure.”
He pulled her towards him and crushed his mouth to hers.