Authors: Nina Lane
With that proclamation lingering in the air, he unzipped his trousers, releasing the length of his phallus which quivered for release. He grasped the base of the stalk in his hand, leisurely stroking the stiff member up to the tip, from which a drop of moisture began to leak.
Apprehension lit in Lydia’s eyes, causing Preston to smile. Although he was not quite as well-endowed as Gabriel or Kruin, they both knew he had an edge over Lydia the other two men lacked.
“You were always so proud, weren’t you, Lydia?” Preston asked.
“Was I?”
“So proud that you wouldn’t fuck around when we were younger. They all talked about you, you know, how untouchable you were, how arrogant. I remember a bet once. Who could touch your cunt first. The problem was that no one could decide on how to prove the winner.”
A sick feeling of loathing rose in Lydia’s chest.
“I suppose none of us would have won in the end, would we?” Preston continued thoughtfully, his hand still sliding up and down the thick root of his penis. “You were too busy sucking lovely Cassie’s pussy, weren’t you?”
“Christ, Preston, I hate you,” Lydia hissed.
“Do you?” Preston replied mildly. “Do you want to leave?”
Lydia fought to regain control over herself, her breathing hard as defiance raged in her with the power of a thunderstorm. She stared at the swollen member in front of her, trying to somehow distance the organ from the man who possessed it.
She closed her eyes. An unbidden reminder of the means by which she had arrived at this place returned to haunt her. She
had
been arrogant. She had thought she was covering her tracks so cleanly that no one would ever unearth her as the culprit embezzler. And this—here, now—was her lengthy punishment, her exile from the world.
Thick silence filled her ears as she opened her eyes and parted her lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
Preston smiled as he nudged the knob of his prick into Lydia’s mouth. Dribbles of semen coated her tongue, and she closed her lips around the throbbing hardness of his shaft. Her tongue laved the underside of his penis as Preston’s hands clutched her head and he began to thrust himself lecherously in and out of the cavern of her mouth.
A glorious merriment filled Preston as he looked down and watched the movement of his erection pumping between the red lips of his captive, making his loins twitch at the thought of the glistening lips farther down. How he had longed to take her there, longed to immerse his stiffness into her and thrust away for as long as he could until splendid rapture overtook him.
The thought cast his senses into a maelstrom as he pulled his saliva-wet shaft out of Lydia’s mouth and commanded her to lie on the desk. To his intense gratification, she did, even parting her dress and spreading her legs to reveal the damp folds of her sex, the delicate morsel of her clitoris protruding forth as if begging to be touched.
Preston was only too delighted to comply, for although he intended to punish Lydia for her infraction, he was not averse to her obtaining pleasure from their little games for the time being.
In fact, it made their situation all the more intriguing, as she would be obliged to struggle with her distaste of submitting to them, while at the same time unable to deny the physical pleasure she received at their hands.
Lydia’s breathing came in rapid, little pants as Preston began to massage the receptive button with his fingertips, everything in him thrilled at the sight of proud Lydia spread out on the desk like a lamb at a sacrificial altar, her pale skin burnished with perspiration, the hard, tight sprouts of her nipples sticking straight up from the swells of her breasts.
Before she reached her climax, however, Preston stepped away from her. Lydia’s eyes opened, her chest heaving.
“Ah, Lydia. Not so regal anymore, are you?”
She didn’t respond, but her lips compressed with displeasure and apprehension. She began to close her legs, but Preston moved forward and pressed his hands against the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
“Oh, no,” he said, his voice laced with menace. “Especially not in front of me, Lydia. Don’t even think of it.”
A tremor went through her as she stared at him with luminous eyes. Preston’s penis ached. He longed to envelop himself in her flesh, but he clenched his teeth and forcibly restrained himself.
He leaned over Lydia, his hot breath against her face as he whispered, “You were more of a little sensualist than you ever let on, weren’t you?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “What are you talking about?”
“What other activities did you engage in when we were younger?”
Lydia’s mouth tightened. “None of your damn business.”
Preston grabbed her by the chin, his fingers digging into her creamy cheeks, forcing her to look at him. Rage tightened every muscle in his body as memories of their youth flooded his mind.
“How dare you,” he hissed. “You’d better watch yourself, Lydia, or you’ll be out on the street before you know it. Is that what you want? Do you want to escape from the investigators on your own? I’d be more than delighted to sit back and watch that happen, if for no other reason than to see how far you get. And we both know, darling, that it won’t be far at all.”
He drew her face closer to his, so close that their harsh breaths mingled in the space between them. “Is that what you want?”
She didn’t respond, although Preston could not determine if she didn’t want to or if she was simply incapable of it. He released her and grasped his erection, which was still wet from Lydia’s mouth.
He picked up her hand and wrapped her tapered fingers around his shaft, commanding her in curt tones to massage him. She stared at him, then at the movement of her hand as she began to stroke the compact stalk up and down. Her thumb rubbed the underside, her fingers cupping his tight sacs with her other hand as her fist repeatedly engulfed him.
“You’re quite an expert at this, aren’t you, Lydia?” Preston whispered, his hips beginning to thrust into her moist grip. “Was this what you did to boys instead of fucking them?”
When she didn’t answer, he pinched her nipple between his fingers. Lydia drew in a breath, flinching at the mild pain.
“Was it?” Preston repeated.
“S-sometimes.” She didn’t look at him, her hot gaze still on the pumping motions of her hand.
His lips curled. “Sometimes? When?”
“When…when they asked me to. When I wanted to.”
Preston’s head filled with images of a young, burgeoning Lydia jerking the cocks of teenage boys. Her wet lips would have been parted in fascination, as if she wished to submerge their erections in her lovely mouth, her nipples pressing against her shirt.
“Where did you do it?” Preston hissed.
“In their cars,” Lydia said, her bare torso shifting, her legs parting like uplifting wings. “At the movies, sometimes.”
“Tell me.”
“I…Preston, I can’t…”
He pinched her nipple again, harder this time, and delved his fingers into the fissure between her legs. Her clitoris pulsed against his fingertips like a heartbeat.
“Don’t you use those words with me,” he snapped. “You can, and you will. Tell me.”
Her eyes closed, but her hand didn’t stop gripping his thick erection. A breathy sigh emerged from her lips.
“We would sit…sit in the back row,” she whispered.
“What did you wear?”
“Cotton T-shirts. Mini-skirts.”
Preston smiled and leaned over her, rotating his thumb around her bud of pleasure. “To show off your figure? Or so they could stick their eager hands between your legs and excite you?”
Lydia moaned, her body tensing. Her fingers slackened on his phallus, giving Preston cause to take his hand from her slippery folds. He grasped her hand again and tightened it around his shaft.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he murmured. “You have several punishments awaiting you, Lydia. Don’t give yourself another one.”
She shuddered, but resumed her tight stroking from base to tip.
“Did they?” Preston asked. “Did they fumble around awkwardly to try and get into your panties?”
Lydia nodded. Preston smiled thinly. Oh yes. This was exactly what he wanted, to embarrass her by forcing her to dredge up all the sordid memories of her youth, to expose the libertine who had always lain beneath the surface of her refined self.
“And you liked it,” he said.
“Y-yes. God, yes.”
“You were wet for them, weren’t you? Just like you are now. Did they bring you to orgasm?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did they touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Were your nipples hard?”
“Yes.”
“Did they come all over your pretty hand?”
“Yes. Oh, God.” Her pale skin was wet with perspiration. She pressed her thighs together as if trying to draw sensations from her body.
Preston gave her hip a light slap. “Open your legs this instant.”
“No, I can’t…I…oh…oh!” Her body stiffened and shook with a sudden and intense series of explosions, glistening juices bathing her inner thighs.
“Oh, Lydia,” Preston said, his voice both soft and steely as his expression hardened with displeasure. “You will pay for that as well. You know that, don’t you?”
She turned her head away from him, her eyes heavily lidded and filled with a mixture of satisfaction and unease. Preston positioned himself over her breasts, his penis sticking rigidly over the damp globes. He brushed the head against her nipple.
“Do it,” he ordered.
She gasped softly and eased his shaft between her lips, her tapered fingers encircling the base almost delicately. She moved her head back and forth, her hair shifting with her movements as her tongue circled and danced over his throbbing shaft.
Preston pulled away from her as he felt unbearable pressure begin collect in his loins. He pushed her delicious legs apart and positioned himself between her thighs. With one movement, he immersed his bulging shaft into her opening, thrusting so far that only the pouch of his testicles prevented further entry, for he truly felt as if he could sink into her completely.
Lydia moaned, her body quivering as Preston began to pump inside her, his entire being electrified by the rapture of his plunges into her gripping orifice. The lack of intrusive hairs in this particular region augmented Preston’s pleasure tenfold, as every element of Lydia’s delectable treasures was laid bare for his rapacious plundering.
He bent forward to capture her nipple between his lips, tugging at the bud until Lydia gasped with pleasure and began to writhe about lewdly under him. Honey flowed profusely from between the smooth lips of her labia, bathing Preston’s prick with a glistening polish.
Broken whimpers spilled from Lydia’s throat, inflaming Preston’s blood all the more as he stroked the knot of her clitoris and felt her inner walls shudder around his shaft. Then he withdrew from her body and gave her hip another light slap.
“Turn over.”
She stared at him, dismay darkening her lovely eyes as she appeared to realize exactly what further insult he intended to bestow upon her. Her mouth opened to protest, but then she twisted around and presented her plump backside to him.
Preston gripped her waist to pull her to the edge of the table so the tips of her toes touched the plush carpet and her hips were positioned in a perfect curve that would allow him unconstrained access.
Placing his hands on the fleshy mounds, he parted her bottom to examine the furrow between them, tracing it down to the delicate crinkle in which he intended to embed his quivering shaft. He rubbed the little hole with the tip of his moistened finger, causing his captive to emit a mewl of protest and writhe her buttocks most enticingly.
“Ah, darling,” Preston said breathlessly. “Hasn’t a man yet experienced the delectation of your charming backside?”
“Y-yes,” Lydia choked, her skin aflame. “But I…I never liked it, I don’t find it pleasurable…”
“Well, you haven’t had me yet, have you?”
With a shudder of delight, he began pressing his hard knob against the puckered seal of her anus. Lydia gasped in shock and strained forward to try and avoid the unnatural invasion.
“No,” she moaned in supplication. “Oh God, Preston…it’s going to hurt…”
“Relax,” he rasped, his breath coming in harsh pants. He gave her bottom a few slaps to remind her that he was in control, then continued to urge himself past the closed portal. “It’ll hurt if you don’t relax. Come on, darling, open up that sweet little hole for me…that’s right…”
Lydia’s fingers clenched onto the sides of the table, her lovely back arching upward as she struggled to accept his entry. Preston pressed her plump cushions farther apart as the head of his penis eased past the taut ring. He pushed into her with raw, leisurely greed, loving the sight of her crinkled aperture stretching to accept his glossy stalk. He gave a hiss of sensual delight as he began thrusting more energetically, stretching Lydia so fully that her hips bucked as if to try and dislodge him.