Read Online Intimate Exposure by Portia Da Costa - Free Book Online
Authors: Portia Da Costa
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her nipple and sat back, studying her face.
“You are beautiful,” he said solemnly. “I’ve never seen a woman quite so lovely in submission.”
Vicki gaped at him, stunned by both his words and the physical messages still rampaging through her body, bouncing from her mind to her breast to her empty sex.
“You’re more lovely than O could ever have been. Because you’re a real woman, Vicki, not some skinny, stylized Parisienne.”
Do I speak? Am I allowed to?
She opened her mouth, but Red forestalled her with his fingertips over her lips. Pressing lightly, he forced her to part them, then pushed two fingers into her mouth. On a pure reflex, Vicki began to suckle, unsure why, but aroused even more by action.
Red laughed softly, his own mouth widening in a gleeful smile. Vicki’s eyes widened, too, when he briefly fondled his own crotch.
“Come on,” he said, sliding his fingertips from between her lips and also relinquishing his bulging erection. With infinite tenderness, he tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ears. “You’re too covered up, my sweet. You’re not accessible. Remember how Rene and Sir Stephen preferred O to dress?”
Vicki nodded. She thought about the clothes she’d packed for this trip, and suddenly her heart gave a great knock inside her chest.
It’s impossible. How could I have known this was going to happen? That he’d be here?
Rather than a selection of trousers and jeans for casual wear, she’d packed mainly skirts, and tops and blouses that buttoned at the front. Suspender belts and stockings rather than tights.
Her hands flew to the buttons of her little cotton cardigan, but Red gently dashed them away and unfastened it himself. He tut-tutted at the sight of camisole and bra, and to her astonishment reached into his inner jacket pocket and drew out a narrow mother-of-pearl-encased switchblade. A second later, with terrifying speed and perfect precision, he slashed the straps of both, slit them up the front, then drew both garments away.
Leaving Vicki sitting there in just her cotton cardigan, her breasts naked. Her nipples were rudely erect, the left one still cherry red from being pinched.
Red tossed her ruined clothing to one side and plucked at her skirt. “Lift your bottom from the seat. Remove your panties, then slide your skirt from beneath you and sit down directly on the leather.”
Just like O.
Her pussy was hot and sticky against the cool silky hide of the car seat. The sensation of her bare skin against the leather was so sensual that Vicki gasped out loud, crumpling her panties in her fingers as she almost came from the intensity of it.
Red’s eyes gleamed in fiery approval, even though his bearded face was impassive again. He lounged back at his end of the seat, relaxed as he reached for his champagne flute.
“Play with your breasts a little more. Not pinching this time, just stroking. I’d like to see you move a little, and to hear you moan. But you mustn’t allow yourself to come just yet.”
Pleasuring herself was far more embarrassing than the pain had been and Vicki blushed furiously. She’d never allowed a man to see her masturbate before. It was far too private.
“Vicki…”
Her name was a whisper…and a warning. Of what, she wasn’t sure, but the worst thing she could imagine was that he’d tell her to forget it and that the game was over.
Nervous and hungry to please him, she strummed her nipples slowly with her fingertips, immediately gasping at their heightened sensitivity. Each light touch was a tongue licking her clitoris. Each light touch brought her dangerously near to orgasm.
What am I doing? I don’t even think I actually like you, Red Webster, yet you can make me do anything. Make me want to do anything. Everything. Just to please you.
Red tried to relax, to sit back, watch the show and be the master. It had never been more difficult in his life.
Desire whirled up in him like a rampaging wind, rattling against
“You are beautiful,” he said solemnly. “I’ve never seen a woman quite so lovely in submission.”
Vicki gaped at him, stunned by both his words and the physical messages still rampaging through her body, bouncing from her mind to her breast to her empty sex.
“You’re more lovely than O could ever have been. Because you’re a real woman, Vicki, not some skinny, stylized Parisienne.”
Do I speak? Am I allowed to?
She opened her mouth, but Red forestalled her with his fingertips over her lips. Pressing lightly, he forced her to part them, then pushed two fingers into her mouth. On a pure reflex, Vicki began to suckle, unsure why, but aroused even more by action.
Red laughed softly, his own mouth widening in a gleeful smile. Vicki’s eyes widened, too, when he briefly fondled his own crotch.
“Come on,” he said, sliding his fingertips from between her lips and also relinquishing his bulging erection. With infinite tenderness, he tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ears. “You’re too covered up, my sweet. You’re not accessible. Remember how Rene and Sir Stephen preferred O to dress?”
Vicki nodded. She thought about the clothes she’d packed for this trip, and suddenly her heart gave a great knock inside her chest.
It’s impossible. How could I have known this was going to happen? That he’d be here?
Rather than a selection of trousers and jeans for casual wear, she’d packed mainly skirts, and tops and blouses that buttoned at the front. Suspender belts and stockings rather than tights.
Her hands flew to the buttons of her little cotton cardigan, but Red gently dashed them away and unfastened it himself. He tut-tutted at the sight of camisole and bra, and to her astonishment reached into his inner jacket pocket and drew out a narrow mother-of-pearl-encased switchblade. A second later, with terrifying speed and perfect precision, he slashed the straps of both, slit them up the front, then drew both garments away.
Leaving Vicki sitting there in just her cotton cardigan, her breasts naked. Her nipples were rudely erect, the left one still cherry red from being pinched.
Red tossed her ruined clothing to one side and plucked at her skirt. “Lift your bottom from the seat. Remove your panties, then slide your skirt from beneath you and sit down directly on the leather.”
Just like O.
Her pussy was hot and sticky against the cool silky hide of the car seat. The sensation of her bare skin against the leather was so sensual that Vicki gasped out loud, crumpling her panties in her fingers as she almost came from the intensity of it.
Red’s eyes gleamed in fiery approval, even though his bearded face was impassive again. He lounged back at his end of the seat, relaxed as he reached for his champagne flute.
“Play with your breasts a little more. Not pinching this time, just stroking. I’d like to see you move a little, and to hear you moan. But you mustn’t allow yourself to come just yet.”
Pleasuring herself was far more embarrassing than the pain had been and Vicki blushed furiously. She’d never allowed a man to see her masturbate before. It was far too private.
“Vicki…”
Her name was a whisper…and a warning. Of what, she wasn’t sure, but the worst thing she could imagine was that he’d tell her to forget it and that the game was over.
Nervous and hungry to please him, she strummed her nipples slowly with her fingertips, immediately gasping at their heightened sensitivity. Each light touch was a tongue licking her clitoris. Each light touch brought her dangerously near to orgasm.
What am I doing? I don’t even think I actually like you, Red Webster, yet you can make me do anything. Make me want to do anything. Everything. Just to please you.
Red tried to relax, to sit back, watch the show and be the master. It had never been more difficult in his life.
Desire whirled up in him like a rampaging wind, rattling against
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