Five Delights

  D J Prewer

  Five Delights

  Copyright © 2015 by D.J. Prewer

  ISBN: 978-0-9924557-7-4

  Cover design by Jacqueline George

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by J.E. George

  Printed and bound in Australia.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Q~Press Publishing

  Contents

  Waking

  Choosing

  First Delight

  Second Delight

  Third Delight

  Fourth Delight

  Fifth Delight

  Waking

  It’s not every day I get summoned to the principal’s office. Actually I have never been summoned at all; I usually just stop by whenever I need too…discreetly of course. But that has more to do with who the Principal is, rather than with school business.

  Today there is a burst pipe somewhere under the school’s ancient foundations, and the water has to be shut off while repairs take place - no water means no school. With all the students gone, as well as most of the staff, the school is practically empty.

  I walk into Marco’s office to find him seated behind his large desk. Sunlight flows through the arched leadlight windows, bathing him in glorious technicolour. With his feet up, eyes closed, muscular body reclining along his black leather chair, dwarfing it, he looks relaxed.

  Just looking at his desk makes me blush brightly. I’ve lost count how many times I have been splayed across it, as Marco fucks me from behind.

  He almost looks angelic. A mistake many people have made over the years. Underneath the outer calm and friendliness, is the calculated control of a man who spent many years as an elite soldier. Damn, this man turns me on.

  He opens his eyes and holds me with an unreadable stare. “Hey Angel, what’s up? I hear you have been very crabby today.”

  Boy! A few terse words to an inept colleague and I’m hauled in to the principal’s office like a naughty child. Flashback to my own high school years.

  “Seriously? If Janet could actually do the job she was hired to do, I wouldn’t get so crabby. That woman has as much inspiration as a deflated balloon. It’s no wonder her students fall asleep!” I huff childishly, as I slump down into one of the two chairs situated in front of his desk.

  Hearing Marco’s throaty chuckle rumble through his chest, ends my tangent and relief washes over me. Obviously I’m not in that much trouble. He moves around his desk to stand in front of me, and casually leans back with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His pelvis is now level with my eyes. He’s playing dirty. The smile that breaches his mouth tells me he knows it too.

  I draw my eyes slowly up over his body, smiling as I take in the bulge forming in the front of his pants, and up to his face and register the concern in his eyes.

  “What’s really going on Skye?”

  My new found relief quickly deserts me. A quiet groan escapes my throat, as I am once again weighed down with the guilt I have been feeling ever since I decided to end my relationship with my boyfriend, a few weeks ago.

  “I thought Ryan was the one, you know? I thought he accepted my need to be sexual. My need to explore and find what it is that I want…and need, sexually. And he was, well, up until he turned in to a possessive jerk. How did I get that so wrong?”

  “I don’t think you got it wrong. I think he changed his mind, or maybe he was that way all along, and pretended not to be just to get close to you. At this point in your life, you are not after a white picket fence, or babies, and it’s obvious to everyone who knows you. And you certainly made it clear to him from the start.”

  “I did, didn’t I? I just feel guilty, and a little sad, that’s all. Maybe I want something I can never have.”

  “Never feel guilty for who you are, Angel. Too many people live their lives suppressing their sexual desires and die thinking coulda, woulda, shoulda. That’s not who you are. When you figure out what you want, what it is you need sexually, there will be a man waiting for you. But there’s no hurry.”

  “I know. You’re right, as usual. Fuck him and his kind!” I smile finding relief in what Marco has said, what I have known all along. I just needed to hear someone else say it.

  “Come here, dolcezza.”

  And then there it is…the beautiful sound of Marco deliberately thickening his Italian accent to caress his words. A flutter awakens in my belly, damn…this man knows how to play dirty. This is my Marco. My friend, my confidant and sometimes fuck buddy, when we have an itch to scratch. And along with Mason, our colleague and my housemate, the three of us are peas in a pod.

  I rise and walk the few steps into his open arms, resting my head against the hard muscles in his chest, as his large body wraps around mine. He is warm, and smells good too. Always does. Here in his arms is my safe haven. A place where I am accepted for who I am, no matter what.

  “Perfetto in ogni modo,” he mutters quietly in my ear.

  I really, really, need to learn Italian.

  A shiver steals over my body, as Marco’s large hands leave my hips and glide their way along my spine, up towards my nape. His soft fingertips dance along my jaw line, rising to capture the sides of my face, as gentle kisses circle my lips. When I finally open my mouth to his, he devours me. On and on the kiss goes, tongues darting in and out, teeth grazing my lips, stealing my breath from me until the pressure in my chest is almost suffocating, and I pull away.

  Marco turns me around and I lean against him, feeling his hard cock nestle against my lower back. He guides my arms behind me so that my hands cup his growing erection. I squeeze him gently, embracing his rigid cock. He is so much more than a handful.

  “Close your eyes, Angel. Let me remind you of who you are.”

  Oh, yes please!

  His fingers glide down my neck and move to the top of my dress. “Have I ever told you how much I love this dress on you? This long zip, running all the way down the front, is such a turn on. I bet every man who looks at you wants to unzip it, lusting to discover what is hiding underneath.” His fingertips begin to pull downwards on the metal clasp, opening my dress up to expose my red lacy bra. “Ah, beautiful girl, I love this colour on you. It’s so fucking sexy it makes my cock throb.”

  I close my eyes and rest my head against his shoulder, as Marco cups my breasts. Fingers splay towards the scalloped edge of my lace bra, pulling it away to expose my hardened nipples beneath. Heat floods my body, and I groan as he rolls each of the tight nipples between two fingers.

  “You don’t play fair, Marco.”

  “I know…but you like it that way.”

  I smile my agreement, and lean in to kiss the smooth skin under his jaw, drawing a quiet moan from deep within his chest. With my tongue I explore the surface of his tanned skin, nibbling on the raised muscle at the side of his neck. With each gentle bite, I squeeze my hands around his cock, dragging my nails over the surface of the soft cotton of his pants. I can play dirty too.

  “I see that this party has already started without me.”

  With a startled gasp I open my eyes to see Mason standing before us. A sly smile on his face. Obviously they had this planned all along. I wouldn’t be too surprised if they were responsible for breaking the water pipe too.

  “Sorry mate, couldn’t wait any longer. Angel needed some…um…counselling.” Marco replied with a husky chuckle. He reaches to open the front clasp on my bra, moulding his hands around my breasts, lifting them, offering them up to Mason.

  “Well, luckily for Angel, I can help with that too.” Mason confirms as he pulls my zipper all the way down, opening my dress up completely.

  I close my eyes, resting my head back into the crook of Marco’s shoulder, knowing that this is exactly what I want…what I need.

  As he kneels before me, Mason’s strong fingers grab at my underwear, sliding them down over my hips towards the floor, where he raises one heeled foot at a time, removing the scrap of red lace completely. He stands, and his cool wet lips capture one of my nipples, then the other. The gentle bite of his teeth pulls each tiny peak higher, away from my breast. Taking my areola into his mouth he bites me harder, releasing ribbons of pleasurable pain that ripple down through my body. The familiar warmth and wetness of arousal fills my pussy.

  “Please,” the word escapes deep from within my parched throat.

  “Tell us what you want, Angel.” Marco asks, his beautiful voice now sounding strained and husky.

  “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”

  “Oh, such naughty words from that sweet, sweet mouth of yours.” Marco’s reply rumbles through his chest, sending vibrations along my back and his hot breath down over my breasts.

  Mason melds his body hard against mine. The pressure of his erection weighs heavily against my mound as he pushes me further back against Marco’s cock, where it lies still nestled in my palms. As Mason’s lips caress my mouth and Marco’s the side of my neck, both of them gently thrust their groins against me. I sigh, surrendering to their erotic stimulation.

  With a frustrated growl Mason stops moving his hips. I open my eyes wide and stare at him with breathless confusion.

  “Today is meant to b e for you sweetheart, not Marco and me…and if we keep on doing this, I am going to cum in my pants like some horny kid. Now what fun would that be for you?”

  My inner minx smiles at me, knowing exactly how much fun it would be to see them both lose control.

  “Tell us what you need, Angel.”

  I close my eyes, waiting for my breath to steady, and think about what it is I want…and need…today. Light kisses still rain down upon my mouth and neck, and although the thrusting has stopped, I can still feel their hard cocks sandwiching me tightly between them.

  “I want it hard and fast. I don’t want to have to think…just…do whatever you want.”

  “Then hold tight sweetheart, you are in for one hell of a ride.” Mason whispers into my ear.

  Marco picks me up and we move to one of the chairs where he sits down, placing me facing outwards on his lap. His erection is wedged tight against my ass, and I know if I squirm enough, I can get him to cum in his pants. Rocking my hips back and forth, I smile when I feel his whole body tense under me. Stifling a little victory laugh, I continue to rock on his lap.

  A startled squeal escapes me as I find myself being lifted hard and fast, and put across Marco’s knee.

  “Think you’re clever, Angel? Rubbing that pretty little ass against my hard cock, thinking you can make me cum that easily?”

  “Oh, I know I can.” The smugness in my voice is a little too evident.

  “Feeling defiant today, are you?” Marco asks menacingly. His tone alone should have given me enough warning of what was to come.

  Whack!

  “Ow!” A sudden burn on my skin announces the sting of Marco’s hand, as it connects hard with one side of my ass. As I breathe through the pain, I feel another slap on the other side…Mason. As I buck on Marco’s lap, hands begin to sooth away the pain on my fleshy cheeks.

  “Lay still, sweetheart,” Mason orders, amusement tickling his voice.

  “Hurts,” I grunt through clenched teeth.

  “Give it time, Angel. You know how good this will feel in the end.”

  “I think she is out of practise. Too much time spent with that soft cock Ryan. Tell us how many spanks you want?”

  Like that’s not a trick question!

  “Five,” I say, hedging my bets. It’s been a long time since I used pain for pleasure. It wasn’t something Ryan would do, said he found it degrading. Didn’t understand why a woman would want that kind of sex. Mind you, he had no problem with tying me up, or having anal sex with me.

  “Only five? Oh, Angel, you certainly are out of practise. I want you to count for us. And you are not to cum, and you are certainly not to scream. The walls of this old church may be thick, but they’re not that thick.”

  My breathing hitches as two warm hands rub over the prickly soreness of my cheeks. Their tender touching designed to lure me in to a false sense of comfort. It was working…a little too well. After the initial two spanks, ghostly fingers of arousing warmth had spread out over my ass, reaching towards my pussy, but their connection fell just short.

  “Are you ready to count, sweetheart?”

  I nod.

  “Say it, Angel. Tell us what you want us to do to you.”

  A heady shiver of anticipation flows over me, “I want you to spank me. I want you and Mase to take in turns spanking my ass. Five times each side, while I count. I won’t cum and I won’t scream.”

  “And if you do cum or scream, what will happen?” Mason asks, his voice thick with arousal.

  “I will have to start the count again.”

  “Good girl.” I’m not sure who said it, because it is a term of endearment they both use.

  Warm hands continued to sooth the tender flesh on my ass, as light kisses nuzzle my nape before trailing down my spine, coming to rest on my tail bone…Mason…I would know his mouth anywhere.

  The first slap catches me off guard, and I barely whisper one before I feel the sting of the next hand. Counting through slaps four, five, and six, were the most challenging, and by seven, that allusive hum of painful pleasure begins to flow through me. My mind is floating away to a state of arousal, moving beyond anything I achieve with normal sex. This truly is the best kind of mind fuck. I don’t remember counting eight, nine or ten, or being told to cum. Too busy embracing my erotic euphoria to care.

  Distant voices awaken my senses and I leisurely float back down to earth. Cool liquid is spread over my ass and the sting subsides. I open my eyes and stare at the carpet, trying to focus my giddy mind. Fingertips dance along my spine, sending shivers across my back…Marco…bringing me back to life as my orgasm subsides.

  The warmth of a polar fleece blanket covers my back, and I am lifted so that I now laying cradle in Marco’s arms. His warm fingers brush the hair from my face, while Mason wraps the rest of the blanket over me, before placing a kiss to my forehead.

  This is my aftercare. Each time after sex, with either Marco or Mason, or both, this is the way they care for me. My friends, my confidants, my fuckbuddies.

  Choosing

  Three weeks later…

  As I park my car I feel a nervous flutter in my stomach building, a sure sign of nervousness from what I am about to do. Although it is nothing to be ashamed of…I am an adult, the men will be adults, and we are all very willing. Then why did I feel the need to lie when making the booking? ‘I’m doing research for a book’…I had lied. Yet if the truth was to be told, I really should have ‘fessed up and said that I wanted to have sex with multiple partners, all men, and all in one day. Add to this, the fact I have not had sex in weeks and I am in need of some carnal relief.

  But sometimes it’s easier and kinder, to tell a little white lie. Especially with society being what it is, everyone guided by a plethora of beliefs and thinking you should be too. What happens when the only belief one has is in oneself? When I tell people I am areligious, or apolitical, they automatically assume I was a neglected child with no caring parent to guide me. Not at all. I grew up observing the world around me and being allowed to make up my own mind. I quickly learned that sometimes it’s just easier, and more comfortable for those around me, to lie.

  Taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts, I check over my reflection in my rear view mirror. I like what I see. Unlike most of the women I know, I am happy with who I am. In fact, I like myself. Whilst I have never been called beautiful by a lover, I have been described as cute, pretty, gorgeous, and sexy, depending on what I’m wearing. Or not wearing. Should I ever marry one day, it will definitely be to a man who wakes everyday whispering Good morning, Beautiful to me. Damn you Keith Urban and your song!

  I close my eyes and take in another deep breath, there's no turning back now. Not that I want to. I have dreamt of moments like these since I was a horny teenager and discovered how nice it felt to touch myself. And touch I did. Willfully encouraged by a myriad of fantasies concocted in the saucy depths of my mind. Although it was a long time ago now, it was those first few gentle touches that help launch me towards exploring my sexuality. They remain always fresh in my mind, and are akin to my first kiss.

  The first person, and girl, I ever kissed was my best friend, Sara. We were thirteen, and having a sleepover at my house and had camped out in my old cubby after a rom-com movie marathon. Giggly and lightheaded from the effects of our first alcoholic drink, consisting of vodka - snuck from my parents bar - and orange juice, we laid on our sleeping bags, staring through the window at the stars, talking about our crushes.

  I had been crushing on Jake Collins for half my life, ever since he was the new kid who walked into our grade two class. I had never seen a boy who looked so beautiful, almost angelic looking, and he smelled so good. What seven year old boy smells good? I stared at him so much that day that I earned myself a detention for not concentrating on the math work scrawled across the blackboard.

  Sara’s crush had been Billy Winters. Annoying little Billy Willy, who flashed his cock at us after sneaking into the girls toilets one day when we were in kindergarten, hence the nickname. Even then, he was rough as guts and ready to take on anything, and anyone. He teased the girls all the time, but when he teased Sara he would always smile and wink at her. She thought it was true love. Little did we know then that Billy would grow up to prefer the company of other males.

 

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