Sex and the Stranger

Just as it hadn’t taken him long to recover, it didn’t take him long to come once more. And as he did he snaked his fingers around to her clit and teased it to madness again. She was hovering on the verge of another climax when she happened to glance up at the path that led into the clearing.

A group of night-time ramblers stood there, staring in open-mouthed horror at the sight of two muddy figures enacting what could only be some bizarre sexual ritual on the altar of the Six Maidens.

The soft laughter in her ear told her he’d seen them too. But he didn’t stop what he was doing. He pinched her clit between his fingers and Natalie arched her body upwards, sending a cry up into the heavens as she came. Some unseen creature answered her call and then the only sound was the crunch of dry leaves beneath the rapidly retreating boots of the hikers.

Her legs were incapable of holding her up and she wilted over the stone, where she lay spent and exhausted until she felt the chill of a goblet at her lips. She lifted her head and drank gratefully, then smiled up at her companion.

‘I’m Natalie, by the way.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said. ‘My name’s Lucian.’

He helped her up and wrapped the blue robe around her shoulders. He blew out the candles one by one and collected her things, putting them in her rucksack while she watched. Then he crouched down and slipped her muddy feet back into her shoes.

She offered him a rueful smile as she recalled her words earlier that night. ‘So – is that it?’

He shook his head and flashed his wicked grin again. ‘Absolutely not. I’m taking you back to the house with me. I’ve got a shower big enough for two. And a very comfortable bed.’

Natalie slipped her arms around his waist and snuggled up close to him. ‘Yes, Master,’ she purred.

He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe his luck. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I never used to believe in magic. But my mate Rhiannon was right. These pagan rituals really do work.’

The Only Man Worthy

Aishling Morgan

Amelie put her finger to her lips.

‘Hush, darling.’

Tom looked close to tears as he continued to beg.

‘Please, Amelie. You’re so beautiful, and I need you so badly. Please!’

‘No, Tom, not until our wedding night. You know how I feel about that. You’ll just have to do it in your hand.’

Tom’s response was a hollow groan, but he flopped down into a chair and took hold of the straining erection that protruded from his open fly. Amelie watched as he began to masturbate, unable to prevent herself from enjoying her power even though it made her feel wicked. Yet there was no choice. Tom was a nice man, a kind man, also a good provider. He would make the ideal husband: faithful, gentle and patient, while his skill as an accountant ensured that she and her children would never be in want. Yet they would not be his children. That was unthinkable. The man who fathered her children would be a truly great man, a genius, nothing less.

Again Tom began to beg.

‘Please, Amelie, at least take me in your mouth? Or your hand even, anything! Please, Amelie. I love you. I need your touch.’

Amelie shook her head.

‘You know you shouldn’t ask that of me, darling. My body is a temple, sacred until God has made us one. But I do understand your needs, so you can look, as long as you promise not to touch.’

Tom responded with an urgent nod and Amelie moved her position on the bed to allow herself to pull up the loose white dress which was all that she wore on top, showing off first her panties and then her naked breasts.

‘There we are, darling. Now do be quick.’

He gave a low sob and began to tug harder on his erection. His eyes were fixed on her body, his mouth slightly open, an expression so urgent and so adoring but also so foolish that she had to suppress a giggle. Yet there was no denying that he was turning her on, but not enough to make her give up what he wanted so badly. She stretched on the bed, languid and cool as he hammered at his cock, stroking her nipples to make them stiff.

‘There, darling. Does that look nice? Am I pretty?’

Tom’s answer came in words gasped out to the rhythm of his now desperate masturbation.

‘Beautiful. Perfect. So sweet. Oh God, Amelie … Amelie, take your panties down Amelie … please … show me your bottom … your pretty bare bottom and your lovely little cunt, please!?’

‘There’s no need to be dirty, Tom.’