The Lady Vera

The carriage rattled slightly on the broad clay road, his eyes steady on his charge. She appeared perfectly at ease, a sickly bruise marring her otherwise beautiful porcelain face. Black hair, the color of the darkest night, fell in ringlets from her head. Soft sumptuous lips, red as cherry wine. Blue eyes, calm and cool. Her graceful curves were wrapped in silk and adorned by silver and jewels... They looked cheap next to her. She burned with a passion that demanded his attention. She looked perfectly at ease for someone who was waiting to die. They had rode in silence for hours but he could stand it no longer.

"I know of you, Lady Vera, but I cannot make myself believe all the tales about you. Are you not the least bit afraid?"

"Oh? Just which tales do you doubt, ser...?"

"Simon."

"Ser Simon... " She smiled sweetly. "Are they truly so outlandish?" He felt his face heat slightly as his name rolled off her tongue.

"I can't see you beheading the Count of Mandra... or stealing the White Lotus from Queen Iradessa." Her eyes twinkled and the corners of her lips turned up in the slightest of smiles.

"The Count was a great military man, but his weakness has always been women. It was not as difficult as you might think. Sweet 'Dessa was much more of a challenge, but worth the wait. For her and the Lotus both." Her smile blossomed into a lusty grin and I looked away chagrined.

"I wasn't always this... This facade of painted nails and painted face, of silk and lace and pearls. I have been many wonderful and dreadful things in my life... A nervous model, a tavern dancer... a singer, a killer, a whore. I have charmed kings right off their thrones and seduced the very stars themselves. No, I do not fear death. We are old lovers. He's come calling many times and I've proved too hard to get. Like any man, that made him want me all the more."

She eyed me slyly from under her curls. "We have nothing but time. I expect it to take another day at the least to reach the capital. If you would like, I can tell you about the girl called Annabelle Veraline Chambers... before she earned her infamous surname."

I met her eyes, unable to hide my interest. She smiled, for the first time sincere. Her lips moved and time seemed to slip away...

A Picture of Lust

She was stunning.

Her porcelain skin was a sharp contrast to the black sheets. Brown hair in curls, they dangled deliciously down her shoulders like rivulets of rich coffee. Lying on her side, innocently nibbling a single finger, her green eyes watched me watching her. It was hard to stay focused. Still, she was a client and I would not cross that line.

I dipped my brush, studying her skin intently. Mixing and dabbing, I quickly came to the tint I wanted and made several shades across my palette. I started at her shoulder, like a lover kissing that soft curve. My brush an extension of my hand, her flesh blossomed onto the canvas under me. The arch of her neck and the subtle grace of her jawline. Her sumptuous lips, a deep red that spoke of lust and passion. That tangle of brown, thick and full... those deep emerald oceans, drawing me in... I lost myself for a few moments, simply gazing at her, wanting her, needing her.

The brush nearly slipped from my fingers and I caught myself. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and focused again. A lighter shade now, some here, some there.. blending to get the shadows and depth of her cleavage, her full breasts becoming softer beneath my hands. I traced those curves, trying to do her justice, to lock in the lust I felt on canvas. I moved lower, the graceful curve of her waist, the rise and fall of her hips. Her other arm was stretched between her legs, her hand covering her pussy. No, not covering.

Rubbing.


My already hard cock throbbed inside my pants. Her hand moved slowly, almost as if I were imagining it. Her fingers glistened slightly and the faintest bit of color was in her pale cheeks. I steadied myself with a breath and continued. Focusing intently on her hand, though impossible to capture that wicked motion that taunted and tempted me, I put what I could on canvas. Her arm stretched as if reaching for a lover, fingers massaging the pink folds of her dripping cunt. I added color to her cheeks and a little sheen to her skin as she began to sweat. I fleshed out her thighs, smooth, luscious, inviting. The curve of her calves and ankles, her feet lost in the tangle of sheets.

Finished with the wondrous and agonizing task of painting her, I breezed through the sheets, only half looking at the canvas as her hand began rubbing more rapidly, her hips moving slightly with the effort. She was breathing louder, heavier, a panting. I signed the bottom of the painting and watched intently, my cock almost painfully throbbing now. Her voice rose and she lost the pose, her neck and back arching as she moaned in release.

"Are you done?" Her voice seemed slightly annoyed.

"What?" I jumped slightly and looked away, startled at the sudden change.

She was sitting up, legs crossed. I looked back at the painting, it's canvas only half done and a distinctly vivid error where my brush had wandered in my now obvious reverie.

"No, I'm sorry. Can you give me a moment? I need a short break."

She looked even more annoyed. That was fine. I went to the bathroom and finished my fantasy and came in that pouty little mouth.

The Sitter

"Welcome back, Mrs. Jones. Did you guys have fun?" Claudia finished washing the few dishes from supper as the couple came in the door.

"Oh, it was all right. Too much blood and gore for me. I picked the restaurant so David chose the movie. The lobster was worth the explosions." Mrs. Jones was in her thirties, a plump woman with dark brown hair. Her green eyes sparkled as she laughed.

"The explosions were worth the lobster, you mean. Swarm is definitely worth seeing. You should check it out." Mr. Jones came in shaking water from his black umbrella. He was barely older than his wife, though he had flecks of silver in his short black hair and goatee.

Claudia bid goodnight to the Jones' as they settled in for the evening. The three kids were already tucked in and snoozing soundly upstairs. They always paid her upfront so there was really no use in lingering around. Of her clients, this couple was her favorite to babysit for. They paid well, their house was nice and they didn't stay out all night. She still had time to go home and study or watch some television before bed. She slipped out the door into the cool rain.

The slow drizzle turned into a downpour as she approached her car, the fat drops plastering her short auburn hair to her face and soaking through her t-shirt. The wet fabric clung to her skin, hugging her breasts. She had forgotten her bra in the rush to class this morning and her nipples were poking through her shirt. She finally reached her car, scrambling for the keys to get a reprieve from the weather.

Shit! I left the keys on the counter in the kitchen.

She ran as fast as she dared across the slick grass and dashed inside without knocking. The storm increased its assault, the rain coming down in sheets as she shut the door. She walked into the kitchen, retrieving the keys and peeking out the window. She couldn't see more than a few feet outside before her vision was blinded by the curtain of rainfall. Claudia sighed and retrieved a towel from the laundry room, drying her hair and body as best she could while she waited for the storm to ebb. She let her mind wander as she stared out at the rain.

Crack!

The sharp sound of a slap startled Claudia out of her daze. A muffled cry came from the Jones' bedroom. Her hands stopped toweling her hair as she eased forward, nerves on end. She shouldn't be doing this. It was none of her business, but she couldn't stop herself. She had to at least check on Mrs. Jones before she left. If things were bad, she'd leave and call the police. Claudia eased up to the bedroom door and cracked it open to peek inside.

Mrs. Jones was naked, lashed to their giant bed with leather straps. She was on her knees, her ass in the air. She was a full figured woman, her hips curvaceous and her breasts large and beautiful. Her husband knelt behind her, stripped down to his waist. His chest was smooth and tanned by the sun. His dark brown eyes had a hungry look in them and he drank up the vision of his lover before him, his hands tracing the curve of her hips. He walked his fingers slowly up the small of her back, her ass arching towards him at the touch. Claudia felt her face heat at catching the couple in such an intimate way.

Smack!

A black leather paddle slapped against her ass, making a crisp sound as it marked her flesh with a pink flourish. A soft moan escaped her lips and she bit the bottom one as she savored the flash of pleasure. Mr. Jones tickled and teased down her back, letting the soft tassels hanging from the handle of his paddle caress her silky skin. He let them drop between her thighs and gently swung them against her lips. She let out a sigh as they brushed against her pussy.

Slap!

The leather kissed her on her thigh and her whole body shivered at its touch. Mrs. Jones wiggled her ass and rubbed her pussy against her husband.

"How long are you going to make me wait?"

His answer came in the form of another stinging blow. Mrs. Jones' face flushed with pleasure as another moan left her lips. Crack! She shivered under the wave of sensations, that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. Crack! He was swinging harder, she was moaning louder. Crack! Her ass and thighs were splotchy from the bite of leather, her legs shaking from excitement and bliss.

Claudia slid to her knees as she watched the lovers engaged, her own cheeks flushed as her hands slid under her skirt between her wet thighs, pulling her drenched panties aside so her eager fingers could find her swollen clit. She bit her cheek to hold in the sound as she ground herself against her hand, holding herself up with the other hand as she peeked in at the couple. She closed her eyes as she massaged herself, squeezing her lips and rubbing her cunt, her hand slick with her own hot juices. A gasp slipped out as she stroked hard against her throbbing clit and her eyes popped open in surprise.

The Jones' were too engaged to notice. Mr. Jones was gripping the seductive curve of his wife's hips, pulling her ass into his thrusts. Her cunt was soaked, even from across the room Claudia could hear the wet sounds of passion as he fucked her from behind. Mrs. Jones tore at the sheets with her hands and moaned as she arched into his plunging hips, her ass slapping against his thighs. Claudia sat back against the wall and spread her thighs, leaning her head against the door jam as she fingered herself. She arched her hips against her hands, fingers working furiously. Stroke and rub, grind and tug, slip in and out of that dripping wet cunt.

"I'm coming! Ohh, fuck me David!" The low, blissful moan that followed sent Claudia over the edge. She was too shaken by her own orgasm to hear Mr. Jones deep moans of ecstasy. It just kept coming and coming, wave after wave washing over her and sweeping her away. Her hands moved by themselves, she couldn't stop herself if she tried. Finally, she drifted down back to reality, her hands slick and wet, still massaging her pussy in front of her client's door. She blinked her eyes open and peeked back into the bedroom.

Oh hell! He's coming this way!

Mr. Jones was coming towards her! She clambered to her feet and rushed out the door, not bothering to even shut it on the way out. She didn't know if they had seen her, but she knew that would be the last time she saw them.

The Voyage

Fingers wrapped in silk, my eyes drink you in
A vision from behind, like moonlight on the water.
Your curves call to me, like a sea yet traveled
Though I know these routes best of all.

Your warmth envelops me and the sound of you
Makes it hard to control myself, a ship with full sails.
Rocked back and forth on the waves of your passion,
I hold on tight and ride the tide, waiting for the break.

The storm ends and leaves me worn and weary,
For what man can truly tame this raging sea?