Claire needs to forgive herself. Will doesn’t think she deserves punishment, only sympathy. But in the circumstances he finds the most sympathetic thing is to deliver the punishment she thinks she deserves.
And try to keep her aware that she’s good, really.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
Ruxana lay quieter than Nana had when I tongued her, and didn’t block my ears with her thighs. So I heard an amused feminine murmur and a stifled laugh. I frowned, though since my face was between her long, slender thighs, no one saw or noticed.
I guessed that Nana, Ruxana and I were making a show for some of the whores who I hadn’t chosen. There would be, must be, a peep hole somewhere that allowed them to watch. Then I decided that I didn’t care. I continued to pleasure Ruxana, who finally lost her relaxed posture, held my head tightly as if trying to wrench it off, and screamed to fill the room.
By the time she completed her climax, or series of climaxes, my manhood was once again standing in women’s honour and service. I rolled Ruxana over, and with gestures and a slap to her bottom encouraged her to present herself for me on her hands and knees. I admired once more that perfect bottom she had shown me when she posed naked with Nana, at the beginning of this encounter. I put my knees between hers and entered her, until that deliciously round and firm bottom pressed back firmly against me.
As I took Ruxana Nana came to stare into my eyes and press my nose between her breasts while I rode her friend. Ruxana and I were both well pleasured and well pleased with each other, and we moved slowly, unhurried, lost in the sweetness of skin against skin.
Nana sometimes pressed her breasts against my face and sometimes lowered herself to kiss my mouth. Though I was riding Ruxana, I couldn’t help wishing there was some way of taking Nana with me into Persia.
But Ruxana suddenly released her breath hard and then held her next breath, working her bottom hard against me. I only had to keep still, presenting, while she worked her way to her third climax. Her arms had collapsed and her face and breasts rested on the bed. She looked up at me, eyes half closed, smiling. She said, “Yavrucuq.”
Of course I did not know the word, but I said, “Yavrucuq” back to her, and then to Nana, and we all three laughed delightedly, pleased with ourselves for having one word in common, and that an endearment.
Nana took Ruxana’s place, and I soon found that although I was exhausted she demanded a rougher and more energetic ride than Ruxana. But when we had both spent I knew I really was exhausted beyond recovery.
I told them they were most beautiful, and if it were possible I’d take them both with me to Persia, and they listened and kissed me at random moments since nothing I said made any sense to them. Except in my tone of voice, which is part of that universal language that cannot be translated and needs no translation.
So when I rose from the bed they scrubbed me again, and kissed my manhood again, addressing me and it as yavrucuq before letting it be clothed.
They said other things to me that I no more understood that they had understood what I had said to them. But it was clear that I’d be welcome, should I ever return to Baku.
We embraced each other, and they withdrew through a door I hadn’t even noticed at the rear of the room, leaving me to return to the ante-room, where Sorouf sat with his girl, conversing and drinking something green.
(I’m afraid that’s all there is, of orientalist erotica. For now, anyway.)
When I was scrubbed pink and clean, and patted dry, Nana led me to the bed, her hand holding me by my manhood.
The previous time I’d been with two women at once they had desired each other as well as men and, I suspect, they had hunted together before, choosing a man they both wanted. So in bed they had entertained each other with cunnilingus at times I was recovering my powers.
But Ruxana and Nana seemed to have no interest in each other, though they made each other laugh and were on sisterly terms despite their slightly competitive approach to me a little earlier. So I took Nana first. She was an energetic and comfortable ride, once we got to grips with each other.
Ruxana kissed me while I rode Nana. And unavoidably, though I was trying to save myself, I came in her, and that was sweeter than sugar. Nana kissed me like a lover, and then pressed my head down, gently encouraging, and trying to suffocate me, pleasurably, between her breasts.
Then, with only a little encouragement from Nana’s tongue and mouth to get hard again I did the same, mutatis mutandum, for Ruxana. But when I was spent for the second time, and both girls were also happy, I knew that I didn’t want to quit them, and they showed a flattering disinclination to let me go.
So I pushed Nana down and put my hands under her splendid bottom and applied my tongue to her.
She seemed astonished at first, but she was soon happy to lie back, holding my head and writhing under me, to be pleasured. I wondered at that, because it seemed unlikely that a woman in her profession would not have encountered cunnilingus before.
But then, I expect that not a lot of women got their private parts kissed and licked in Kentucky, where I came of age. I had not been taught the skill till I first reached Paris a few years later.
Perhaps Nana had not yet encountered it, or she hadn’t expected it from a man. When Nana had raised her legs in the air and squealed triumphantly, I kissed her, my face still wet with her, and rolled over, pulling Ruxana into her place.
I kissed Ruxana’s breasts while Nana stroked me, keeping her breasts pressed firmly against my side and in my awareness. Ruxana looked at me, eyebrows raised. She wanted to say something, but neither of us knew a word of the other’s language. Still, the happy sound she made when I kissed her navel, and lowered my head further confirmed that I had read her right.
You don’t introduce Claire to butt-plugs by saying “Claire, meet butt-plug.” The introduction is done more physically.,
Claire learns a new kind of vulnerability, and finds it hot.
It’s a hot scene, in fact, but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
Note
We’re taking a short break from the story in which Claire, with enthusiastic support from Maddie, is getting the cane in the office of our headmaster, in a novel approach to parent-teacher relations. But this is from some thing else I’ve been working on, and I thought you might like it. Continued next week!
House of Pleasure
While Kerem and I were talking something strange happened. A group of six women emerged from the stairs that led to the two stories above the terrace we sat at. They looked at us. A short, plump girl with a cheerful face and a snub nose stared quite openly at me. For the first time since my wife had died I found myself responding to a woman. It wasn’t that she was pretty, though she was. It was something about her attitude. Then the women bowed at us, gravely as men would, but mocking us, and left. There was laughter from the stairs, as they departed.
I stared after them in wonder, then looked at him. Kerem said, “Bran, that girl liked you. You’re exotic. And perhaps she recognised a rogue.”
“When I said I’d only been to a brothel in San Francisco, that wasn’t true, was it? It seems I’ve also come to one in Baku.”
Kerem smiled. We finished the champagne. “You’ve had a long journey. You’ll have no opportunities to exchange civilities with women where you’re going. So, when I go upstairs in a moment, I’d encourage you to come with me. You’d disappoint the snub-nosed girl if you chose someone else, but I’m sure she’d not grieve overmuch. Imran does not charge my family, or their guests.”
“If I do go up those stairs, what do I say, in the local tongue, to tell a girl she’s pretty?”
He shook his head and laughed, staring at the table. “I’m sure you’ll think of ways. There’s a universal language, and I expect you know it well enough.” He stood up. “Come.”
So I followed Kerem, climbing to a room with six beauties, not naked but wearing considerably less than on the terrace. It was a pretty place, not just because of them. There were paintings and tapestries of beautiful places and women, flowers growing and even a small fountain, though we were well above the ground. The air was cool and smelled of jasmine.
Kerem departed discreetly with a beautiful girl, who I guessed was Russian. They seemed to know and like each other well. The girl who had eyed me let her shawl fall away, partly, from her breasts. She smiled, complacently. So I pointed at myself, looking at another girl, paler, more slender, probably more beautiful. I said “Bran,” then looked interrogatively at her.
“Ruxana,” she said, smiling. My complacent girl scowled.
Then I took my complacent girl’s wrist. She stood immediately, and squirmed against me. I kissed her and she kissed me back. I’d heard that the whores of Europe don’t allow paying men to kiss them, but that rule seemed to hold no sway here. We broke the kiss, and stepped back. She put her forefinger between her breasts and said, “Nana.” Then she looked up at me, laughter glinting in her eyes. “Bran.”
So we left together. At the last second before we left that room I caught Ruxana’s eye. Whether she was playacting or not, her regret seemed real. So I said, “Ruxana,” and she joined us. Nana rolled her eyes but led the way.
The room Nana took us to was large, with an enormous bed, am armchair and a padded table with a hole in it, whose use escapes me to this day. Even if we’d had a common language I wouldn’t have wasted time by asking.
Nana and Ruxana undressed and stood facing me, striking an elegant pose, then both turned around and bowed slightly, so I could admire their bottoms. I admired all of them very much.
They approached and undressed me then, and both knelt and kissed the visible sign of my admiration.
Nana stayed on her knees, occasionally taking me into her mouth while Ruxana took a basin of scented, oiled water, a brush and many towels, and began to wash me. I thanked the gods that I had washed myself vigorously in the hamman the previous evening, but Ruxana was even more thorough.
Claire’s husband, who was a scumbag for various reasons, had never shown much interest in her mouth or her ass. Her new lover, Will, who she hopes will want to become her Master, seems interested in all her orifices.
As he demonstrates.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly. thinks about her ass as contemplates the
Claire learns that many people might not like to bend, naked, over a Headmaster’s desk. But those people are silly, she thinks. She likes that very much.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
Claire learns that modestly begging for certain pleasures is all very well. But immodest, blatant, submissive begging is much hotter.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
Claire, stretched and presenting herself for Will, finds that Maddie, watching her, ruler in hand, is also a sexual, and physical, force to be reckoned with.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.
Maddie applies nipple clamps to Claire’s breasts. A lot of eye contact and shared breath.
Claire finds that having nipple clamps removed, after time has passed, is the hard part.
It’s a hot scene but it’s had to leave my blog because it’s published now, and publishers don’t like their stuff to be available for free. I’ll put up a link to where you can buy this very hot text, shortly.