Hot Stories for Cold Nights (5 page)

He stretched out, watching through his toes, munching peanuts. He really enjoyed his evenings alone, while his wife was out at her book group. Oh, he loved his wife, and they had a great life together, but he relished this alone time when he could fantasize about being anyone he wished. Captain Blood: gentleman, doctor, pirate. He'd love to be a pirate, capturing ships, plundering and seizing beautiful women.

He dozed.

He was Errol Flynn, lithe, muscular, handsome. He was on the deck of his ship, chasing a British vessel, closing the distance, ordering cannon fire, wielding his sword, yelling to his men to board the ship. Gradually all the enemy sailors disappeared, leaving him in front of the door to the ship's main cabin. He opened it.

She was cowering in the corner, her beautiful, long mahogany-colored hair in disarray, her lips reddened with fear, her beautiful cheeks flushed. Not Olivia de Havilland. She looked instead like Elizabeth Taylor in her prime, eyes the deepest violet, surrounded by long eyelashes and arched brows. Her hands twisted a lace handkerchief, fingers long and slender. And she was his for the taking. He quickly ordered the two pirates who followed him to remove her to his cabin on the pirate ship. “But, Captain,” one said, “you get all the women. Can't we have this one?”

He had but to tilt his head slightly and raise one eyebrow to have them scurrying to do as he'd bid them.

He opened the door to his cabin later and found her, fastened to the head of his bed by a rope around one wrist. She stood as he entered, back straight, chin lifted and firm, brave to the end. “Please,” she said, her voice quavering only slightly. “I know my father will pay you for my safe return.”

Now that she was standing, he noticed her tiny waist and well-formed breasts swelling out of the neckline of her virginal white dress. He slowly shook his head, then said in a quiet voice, “You are mine and I mean to have you.”

“No, please,” she said, a slight catch in her throat. “I'm to be married. What will my husband say?”

“Why should I care?” Like lightning, he reached out and grabbed her free arm. Now scared out of her mind, she struggled, trying in vain to free herself, but with one arm securely fastened to the headboard of the large bed, she had no chance. She tried to scratch his face, bite his arm, kick at his legs, but to no avail. He merely laughed, loving it when women fought him.

Eventually her thrashing slowed as he'd known it would, and she sagged onto the edge of the bed, breathing hard. He released the wrist he'd been holding, and she rubbed the slight abrasion. The fight had whetted his appetite, and his cock had grown hard and throbbing. He wanted to drive it into her slick, virginal passage, but he would wait, savoring each moment.

“That's better,” he said. “I want to see what I've captured.” He reached out and drew one firm breast from the neck of her gown. “Lovely,” he said as she tried futilely to cover herself. “I'll see all of you before we're done here,” he said, “so trying to hide your luscious body is of no use.”

She wept then, but he felt no sorrow. He'd show her the best fucking ever, and she'd be better for it. Or not. But he'd enjoy himself and that was really all that mattered. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. She slapped him. Hard. Then she ran her nails down his cheek.

“Enough of that,” he growled, grabbing her wrist and bringing it around behind her. He grabbed a second piece of rope and tied her free arm to the far side of his bed. Now, with arms spread, she was helpless. She twisted and wriggled but soon realized that her struggles were useless. She closed her eyes, tears slowly leaking from the corners.

“Oh, don't cry,” he crooned. “This will be really good, and you'll soon see how much you've missed.”

“You're a horrid beast, and I look forward to the time when my father has you trussed up and whipped.”

“Look forward to it all you like, but for now, you're in no position to do anything to speed up that process.”

She turned her face to the wall, refusing to look at him.
Her loss,
he thought. He went to his desk and found a sharp knife. Returning to the side of the bed, he said, “Now, this is very sharp, and I wouldn't want to injure your beautiful skin. Hold very still.”

“W-w-what are you going to do?”

“I want to see you.” He removed her shoes, then starting at the hem of her dress, he sliced her skirt up the middle to the waist. Then he grabbed the bottom of her corset and sliced it and the bodice of the dress up the middle until the sides parted, leaving her covered only in her chemise, pantaloons, and hose.

He stood and gazed at what he'd uncovered. Her skin was as lovely as he'd imagined, china white and smooth. Her breasts full and ripe beneath the remaining thin layer of fabric. Through the silk of her pantaloons, he could see the dark triangle at the tops of her thighs. He used his fingers to easily delve beneath the legs of her pantaloons to find the tops of her stockings and slowly, leisurely rolled them down.

When he stroked the arch of her foot, she kicked out at him, catching him lightly on the chest. “That will never do,” he said. “You really must not struggle.”

She kicked harder, pounding her heels onto the bed. “You'll hurt yourself that way.” He rummaged in his closet and found a piece of soft cord, which he cut in half with the knife. Then he efficiently tied each ankle to the footboard of the bed. She was now truly helpless, open for him.

“I'm really sorry I had to do that,” he said, not sure whether he was sorry or not.

She sputtered, “I am a lady, and thus I can't think of any words vile enough for you.”

“How about bastard?” he said with a laugh. “Son of a bitch usually works as well. Or motherfucker. Shit.”

“Oh,” she uttered, glaring at him. “You're no gentleman.”

His laugh was full and rich. “Right. Got it. You're a lady and I'm a bastard. Good for you. We've got the roles in this little drama sorted out.”

Now that she was completely immobilized, he used the knife to remove the rest of her clothing until she lay, naked and panting, unable to cover herself.

His sigh was deep with longing, but despite the heaviness in his groin, he kept himself in check. “I'll tell you what,” he said. “I won't ravish you until you beg me to.”

It was her turn to laugh. “That will never happen.”

He merely smiled. Then he slid his fingertips over her ankle and calf. “You will, my love. I guarantee it.”

He began at her toes, playing with each, sucking one after another until they were curling. “Do you like that?” he asked.

“No,” she snapped. “You're merely irritating me.” Her tone had become imperious.

He moved to her hands, trapped by the ropes. He swirled his tongue in her palm, then nibbled on each finger. He watched her eyes, seeing them become heavy lidded with the desire to sink into the pleasure he knew he was giving her.

Finally, her breasts tempted him beyond his ability to hold back. He sat on the edge of the bed and laved each without touching the now-erect nipple. He saw her breathing speed up and knew she was slowly succumbing to the erotic joys he was providing. But she wasn't nearly ready to beg yet.

“You want me to suck your nipples as no man has ever done, but you're too proud to admit it.”

“I want no such thing!”

He chuckled, licking a path from her breastbone to one darkened areola, but no farther. He teased her for long moments, watching her become more and more aroused. “I know you want it, so I'll give you what you crave, just this once.”

He fastened his mouth over one nipple and sucked, while lightly pinching the other. Obviously unable to control her body any longer, her hips bucked and her fingers curled into fists.

Alternating between nipples, he drove her higher. “Tell me you want this,” he said, knowing she wasn't ready yet.

“Not a chance,” she said, barely able to draw enough breath into her lungs to speak.

“Oh, you will,” he said, biting one erect bud, causing her to gasp, not in pain but in pleasure. Her eyes slid closed.

Then he moved between her legs. Her pussy was already swollen, flowing with her juices. Her erect clit protruded slightly from the nest of curls, begging in its own way for his touch and his mouth. Slowly, teasing her with each stroke, he slid his fingers through her wetness. “Your body wants me. Feel how wet it is. You've probably never felt like this before, reaching for something but you don't know what.”

“I'm not reaching . . . for anything,” she said, her words coming in little bursts.

Then his finger found her clit, tapping lightly on the tip. Her hips bucked, needing, wanting. He swirled around the sides and massaged the length of her slit, then slid one finger inside her just a tiny bit.

“No,” she sobbed. “Go away!”

“You don't really mean that.”

She wept and he knew that she was slowly coming to terms with her body's needs. He stretched out between her thighs and licked her slit, then sucked her clit. With one finger slightly inside her, he felt the tiny spasms that presaged orgasm, and stopped, leaving her body hanging on the precipice.

“Now say please,” he growled and heard her answering moan. “All right,” he said, slowly building the pleasure again with his mouth and fingers. Again he left her without the final touch he knew she craved, only blowing on the wet skin. “Say please.”

Her hips thrashed. “I know what can relieve your hunger, and I can give it to you. There's such pleasure in it for you. Don't deny yourself. Just say please.”

Her eyes opened and she stared at him, eyes glazed with want. She took a deep breath and he again blew on her wet skin. “Please,” he said, hot breath laving her slit. “Say it.”

Head dropping to one side, she said, “Don't make me.”

“I will make you say it, love. I want to hear you beg.”

She waited a long moment, then said, “Please. Help me.”

He quickly removed his clothes and, penis totally erect and hard as steel, knelt between her legs and positioned himself at her opening. Then he rammed into her slick, tight passage, causing her to scream out in pleasure. As he pistoned, he rubbed her clit until he could feel the waves of her orgasm squeeze his cock. The fact that his fantasy had begun with her a virgin and now she accommodated him totally didn't faze him.

 

 

“
CAPTAIN BLOOD
AGAIN?” A FEMALE VOICE SAID.

Larry snapped back to the present, barely noticing the credits at the end of the movie roll on his TV screen. His wife, Anne, now home from her reading group, lay between his legs, mouth ready for him.

“When I finish with you,” she said, licking her lips and flicking the tip of her tongue over the dripping head of his cock, “you'll be able to last longer later when you tie me to the bed.”

She engulfed his erection with her hot, wet mouth and he came. He had the best, most understanding wife ever, and he was going to fuck her brains out all night.

L
ARRY'S WIFE, ANNE, ENJOYED MOVIES AS MUCH AS HE did, but she tended to want to discuss them with him during the film, often commenting on the actors' performances or costumes and guessing at the ending. She was usually also knitting or doing a crossword puzzle at the same time. On the other hand, he preferred total immersion, lights dim, HDTV turned up so he felt completely surrounded by the film.

Larry loved his wife and wouldn't trade her for anything, but on one precious evening a week, while Anne joined several others to critique books, he got to watch movies his way. Usually, either Turner Classic Movies or the Fox Movie Channel showed something he enjoyed, new or classic. Tonight, he found a
Star Wars
marathon.

He loved sci-fi movies and specifically enjoyed the aliens; aliens could be anyone and do anything, especially with the great special effects that had been added in recent years.

Lying naked, watching between his toes, Larry let Luke, Leia, and Han wash over him, and as usual, he drifted into his own world.

She had appeared in his bedroom, looking sort of like Leia, with braids curled around her ears. Yes, he'd like to slowly unbraid her hair and let it flow over his body. He didn't worry about why or how; he just enjoyed looking at her and feeling his cock react.

“I know you want me,” she said, and Lord, did he. “It's the pheromones we aliens exude. We want you to desire us.”

He said nothing, just stared, entranced.

“We want to learn everything there is to enjoy about this thing you call ‘intercourse.' We have read books and know the facts, but we gather that there is so much more than the
how
of it. We want to experience it, to learn the
why
.”