Sexy as Hell Box Set (61 page)

“What, more than having my bumhole made love to? That was pretty embarrassing.”

Lord, give me strength.
Bumhole made love to? Why couldn’t she just say arse fucked like everyone else? “Oh, yes, that’s why I don’t like to be hit, my pride won’t take it, and you, Catherine, are a very proud woman, I can tell.”

“I am yes, but…but I want to please Victor, so maybe I should give it a go.”

“What, at the expense of addressing your needs, your desires?”

“I might desire it?” She giggled suddenly. “You never know, I might like it too. Like Ollie does.”

Shit.

“No, you need to tell Victor that you want to stick with normal, non-kinky sex and be strong about your decision. Be true to yourself. What, after all, were the suffragettes doing for us?”

“Er, getting women the vote?”

“Well…whatever…start casting your vote in the bedroom. It’s all very well to have strong feelings for Victor, but if he can’t listen to you or he’s happy for you to ignore your desires, then he’s not right for you and…” I paused for dramatic effect. “He clearly doesn’t care about you enough, Catherine, if he’ll let you do that, just for him.”

“Oh, he does care.” She grinned. “He just gets a bit carried away sometimes.” She lowered her voice further. “You’ll never guess what happened at the theatre a few weeks ago?”

I bet I bloody could. “What?” I couldn’t bring myself to return her smile so drank some wine and kept the rim of the glass near my lips.

“We had a box at Les Mis, one right at the top, it was lovely.” She paused, hiccupped. “And about twenty minutes into the show he just, well, he just got on the floor, flicked up my skirt and started…” She pointed at her crotch. “You know, licking me.”

Oh, God. I struggled not to roll my eyes. “That is shocking. Depraved even, and highly inappropriate.”

“I know, but oh, it was also very exciting. I would never have thought to do something as naughty as that, but Victor, well, he’s just such a sexy devil and quite insatiable it seems, and inventive too.”

“Gosh, I’d be pretty damn scared of what else he might have up his sleeve if I were you. I was glad to get out of the whole Victor situation, he’s a hard man to handle.” In more ways than one.

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle whatever Victor can dream up.”

“Really? What if he wants to paddle you until you cry or get you dressed up in some stupid demeaning outfit and take it up the arse again? What if he decides to tie you to the bed and make you take his cock in his mouth while you have a dildo in your pussy? What if he won’t let you pee all day and then fucks you with a promise that he’ll flog you if one drip of piss escapes onto his dick?”

She pressed her hand to her chest and appeared to let all those erotic images tumble through her head. She then pursed her lips. “I’m falling in love with him, Zara, and just because you didn’t and you weren’t suited it doesn’t mean I’m not.”

No, not the L word. For fuck’s sake, how ridiculous. I had to call a halt to it—now. “That’s all very well, but do you really think love is enough when he makes you do kinky, freaky stuff?” I shook my head, projecting amazement at her stupidity and lack of understanding.

“I’ll just have to start enjoying kinky, freaky stuff, won’t I?”

There was something about the determined set of her mouth I didn’t like, not one bit.

“I suspect you will, and you’re a braver woman than me, that’s for sure. I’m pretty open-minded, but I wouldn’t go there with a bloke like Victor Partridge. I should think he eats women, normal women, like us for breakfast and then moves onto hard-core, wanton females for dinner, and well, dessert, I don’t even think my imagination could come up with what filth he likes to finish his day off with.”

This was all for her own good. I knew for a fact Catherine wouldn’t enjoy Victor letting loose on her. She would never get off from taking a beating with a paddle like I had. She was a good, wholesome girl, so how could she ever let a man shove a vibrator up her arse and then fuck her stupid?

No, it wouldn’t happen, not a chance. She’d run screaming for the hills, or rather, the vineyard. And quite honestly, the sooner the better. If only she would just realise she was wasting her time with Victor.

I lay on the bed, in just my boxers, waiting for Catherine to join me. God only knew what mood she’d be in after her
chat
with Zara. I was hedging my bets that she’d either be ready to pack and leave the villa or up for a shag—maybe with a bit of kink, depending what slant that bloody ex of mine had put on the discussion.

I glanced at the nurse outfit. I’d hung it from a picture frame. Damn, I liked it. I had no idea why it appealed so much. It didn’t even look like a real uniform it was so short and frilly. I was pretty sure Freud would have a field day with me, no doubt projecting my lusty nurse thoughts back to the time I’d been in hospital as a randy teenager suffering with appendicitis. Ollie had sneaked me a porno mag in, too, which really hadn’t helped the situation.

My cock was a little firm now but not hard, just giving me a full feeling. I pictured Zara in the nurse outfit. She’d make it look slutty, like a trashy, whoreish nurse. There’d be nothing innocent about her, she’d be all long legs, no knickers, breasts bursting out of the top. She’d be bad, too, wanting to take my temperature up my arse, lick my cock to see if that sent my blood pressure rising and flash me her cunt to get my heart rate rocketing.

Shit. My damn tablet. I’d forgotten it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, reached into the nightstand and knocked back a tiny white pill with a slug of water. I’d been religious about my tablets for weeks, not forgetting one since Zara and I had split, and now, here she was, not back in my life for a day and I was forgetting all about it.

The bedroom door shutting startled me.

“Catherine?” I turned.

“Victor.” She was leaning back against the door, her palms pressed behind her bum. Her head was tipped and she had a sultry smile on her face. “Victor Sexy Partridge.”

“Are you all right?” I asked hesitantly.

She looked odd.

“Never better.” She walked towards me, swaying her hips in a way I’d never seen her do before. Putting one foot across the other, kind of like a catwalk model. “I want you, Victor. I want you to do all of those bad, disgusting things to me that you’ve been thinking about.” She paused, pressed her fingers over her lips and suppressed a burp. “I know you’ve been thinking them, Zara has told me all about the sort of kinky pervert you are, and…” She reached out, stroked her fingers through my hair. “Far from what she’d told me scaring me away, I want you to show me all the dirty things you enjoy so we can enjoy them together. We
are
compatible, Victor, and I can make you happy.”

“What…what the hell did Zara say?” I couldn’t begin to imagine. A lot of truth, I suspected, but also a web of twisted facts. “And you already make me happy, Catherine.” Did she? Yes, I was sure she did. Or I hoped she would. Maybe.

“She said that you wanted to smack her bum but she didn’t want you to—she likes to be the one doing the smacking, that’s what she does to Ollie. But I don’t mind if you want to spank me, Victor. I’ll let you.” She turned around so her bottom was at my face level. “Go on, give it a try.”

I reached out and smoothed my hands over the pale, cream chinos she was wearing. She had a hot arse, I couldn’t deny it.

“It needs to be skin,” I said then cleared my throat, wondering why it felt so strange to be talking to Catherine about this. “So I can see you go red.”

“We can soon sort that.” She undid her trousers, pushed them down then kicked them away. Beneath she wore a pair of tiny white knickers.

“Catherine?”

“Hit me, Victor, if that’s what you want to do. Spank my bottom, tell me how naughty I am and then make love to me.”

“Well, I…” Damn, my cock was getting hard now. I’d thought of that one time I’d spanked Zara so often it was like a movie in my head. It had been so erotic, so hot, and I’d been sure my balls were going to rip up and out of my cock when I’d come so deep inside her tight pussy, the vibrator whirring away in her arse, heightening every sensation. Jesus, it had been one of the wildest moments of my life.

Catherine wiggled her bottom and then stilled. “Oh, what’s that?” She pointed at the nurse outfit. “Is that for me to wear?”

“Well, I, er, yes, if you want to.”

She turned to me, lips pouted, eyebrows waggling. “You
are
a bad boy, aren’t you?”

She didn’t know the half of it, but maybe she would, one day. This was all rather promising.

“You look sick, Victor. Lie down and nurse Catherine will be with you in a minute to make you feel all better.” She wandered up to the outfit, struggled for a second getting it down and then disappeared into the bathroom.

I jumped up, shut the curtains then went and locked the bedroom door. I paused as I walked back past the full-length, bronze-framed mirror.

My cock was straining against my boxers, my skin had lost most of its tan from last year’s Caribbean break, but my cheeks were flushed, my eyes were sparkling. I was going to get me a bit of fantasy with the woman who looked just right on my arm.

Perhaps she’d look right in my fantasy too.

I jumped back on the bed as the en-suite door opened. Catherine stepped out, the same pouty expression on her face and her hair scooped on the top of her head with the lacy nurses hat perched high and a little wonky.

The dark blue outfit squeezed her in at the waist, was low on her breasts and high on her thighs. She’d added a pair of white heels and looked sexy and ridiculous all in one.

“How are you feeling, Mr Partridge? Do you need me to put my healing hands on you?”

“I, well,
er, yes.”

“Or would you like to put them on me?” She turned, flicked the short skirt up and revealed her naked behind. As she did so she stumbled, grabbed the dresser and gasped.

“Are you all right?” I asked, going to reach for her but stopping when I saw she’d regained her balance.

“Perfectly fine.”

She was clearly tipsy, but I’d learnt that was her normal state. She could knock back wine and champagne like she was guzzling water. She didn’t often seem affected by it. Though I was guessing after her talk with Zara, which had obviously gone in my favour, she’d maybe needed some Dutch courage.

Did she really want me to spank her?

“You can do your worst, Victor, I can take it, come on, smack me.”

“I thought you were going to be my nurse first,” I said, glancing at my case and thinking of the VP paddle in there. Could I use it on Catherine when it had been such a pivotal part of my crazy, death-defying week with Zara?

I wasn’t sure.

“Of course, silly me.” She turned, walked over to the bed and leaned over me, her breasts just inches from my face and her wine-laced breath breezing down. “Now, let me make sure you’re comfortable.” She ran her hand over my cheek, my chest and my belly.

She was breathing fast, her chest heaving in the tiny costume. I liked the way the mounds of soft flesh became taut and then flattened, tautened and flattened.

“Oh, dear,” she said, gripping my cock through my boxers. “Seems you have a bit of a displacement of blood, Mr Partridge.”

I sucked in a breath, shifted my hips and was delighted when the first arc of her pale areolae appeared over the tight top of her dress. “Is there a cure, Nurse Catherine?”

“I’m not sure. It feels like you have a very bad case of penis hardness indeed.” She licked her lips. “I should perform a closer examination.”

“Yes, I think you should.” Damn, I would never have thought she’d be up for this, not after that first night when she’d been so vanilla she was practically neutral.

She shoved at my boxers. I helped and my cock sprang free, proud and upright and looking, thank goodness, perfectly healthy and ready for action.

“I’ve forgotten my thermometer. I’ll have to check the temperature of your affected organ with my tongue.”

More blood rushed to my dick. Damn, it had been so long—just the once with Catherine, that time I’d taken it too far.

She leant forward, pointy pink tongue sticking out, and then licked the length of my cock.

A tremble of desire swept through me. I stared at her head, wanting to fist her hair and push her down, but I didn’t. I was going to be polite and considerate. I had to remember this wasn’t Zara who liked it rough, who enjoyed a hard slap around the face as she came. This was Catherine trying her best to meet me in the middle.

She took my dick deep, surprising me with the speed she’d sucked me in.

I groaned and dropped my head back on the headboard, relishing the wet heat of her mouth, the feel of her smoothly rippled palate on my cockhead. Bliss.

After a few minutes she released me, caught my erection in her hand. “You have a very bad case of this disease, Mr Partridge, and I’m afraid the only cure is rather arduous.”

“It is?”

The base of the dress had hooked itself on the flimsy little belt. I could see her pussy and wondered about returning the favour of some oral action.