For Rebecca, Halloween has always been special, an opportunity for her to cast off her sensible, ordinary self and assume a new look and a new identity: someone extraordinary, sensual and seductive.
When Halloween night finds her stranded by a breakdown in a seedy motel nearly a hundred miles from her friend's annual party, she's terribly frustrated and disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier. Gradually, the ghost unmasks Rebecca's secret desires, fulfilling every one.
By the time midnight tolls, Rebecca has come face to face with more magic than she had ever imagined.
After you've savored my snog, head over to Victoria's for more sexy (and possibly spooky) oral delights.
****
“So eager! You've got to
be patient. I'll fuck you too, don't worry. But first I want to play
a little.” There was a strange whistling sound, somewhere above me.
Chills crawled up my spine.
“What was that?”
“That? Oh, that's my
little whip. Just a toy, really.” The air whooshed again, and a
line of bright pain stitched up my inner thigh.
Caught off guard, I sucked
in my breath rather than crying out. The sting of the blow
intensified for a moment, then faded. In its wake, my sex grew hot
and heavy with blood.
I released my gathered
breath, just in time for the next stroke. It landed high on my other
thigh, a mere inch from my pubis. This time, I screamed. The fire of
the lash raged through me. My nipples tightened to aching knots of
sensation. My clit throbbed as if it would burst. I thought that I
couldn't bear any more, and yet, as the fires banked, I found myself
waiting eagerly for the next cut of the invisible lash. I felt a
cool hand on my brow. “Are you all right? Should I continue?”
I nodded my head to the
empty air. The whip swirled again, searing the sensitive outer area
of my breast. The next stroke struck fire on the ravaged tip of a
nipple. Pain exploded like a sunburst, momentarily blinding me. Heat
flowed from the point of contact, melting me into a sloppy puddle of
desire.
I moaned and closed my
eyes, concentrating on the paradoxical sensations racing through me.
The whip danced over my flesh, leaving its stinging kisses on my
thighs, my breasts, my belly. The effects of the individual strokes
began to merge. My entire body sizzled, kindled into extraordinary
sensitivity by the fierce bite of lash.
My cunt contracted each
time the leather hit home, overflowing with the proof that this pain
truly was what I craved. I was mortified to realise that what I
wanted most was to feel the whip slicing across my tender labia,
snapping at my clit. It would take only one or two strokes, I knew,
to send me spinning into orgasm.
“Open your eyes.” Tony
paused in his exertions. “Look at yourself.”
With some difficulty, I
raised my head to examine my splayed form. I caught my breath at the
sight before me. My breasts and abdomen were criss-crossed with red
streaks, as if I’d been grilled on some devilish barbecue. Some of
the traces had formed into raised welts of a darker hue. From what I
could see, my lower body was similarly scored.
I should have been
horrified. Instead, all I could think of was that I wanted more.
“You look so beautiful,
with my marks decorating your body. My beautiful, well-whipped slut,
all pink and white, ready to do anything for me.” Two lightning
whip strokes zipped symmetrically along the outsides of my breasts. I
screamed.
“That's true, isn't it?
You'll do whatever I ask?”
Intoxicated with lust, I
couldn't speak. It didn't matter; I knew he understood. I wanted his
hands, his cock; my cunt was a wet, hungry void dying to be filled.
But if he wanted to beat me, I could wait. Every time the leather bit
into my flesh, I knew that I was pleasing him.
“Such a sweet whore. I
won't make you wait any longer.” The whip clattered, tossed into
the corner. The bed creaked as he climbed on, straddling me. I sensed
his bulk, even as I stared out at the empty space.
There was rasping sound of
a zipper coming down, then pressure against my lips. I stuck out my
tongue and swirled it over the smooth bulb of flesh that seemed to be
positioned above me. Of course, there was nothing there, nothing to
see, at least. The situation was bizarre, but incredibly arousing.
“Suck me now. Get me nice
and wet.” I opened wide and he thrust his invisible but
impressively solid cock down my throat.
Lying on my back, I had no
control. Fortunately, he was more gentle than he might have been,
though I still had to work to keep from choking. I swept my tongue
over the silky smooth skin sheathing his erection. I could feel the
pulse of his blood in the shaft, even though I knew he had no blood,
no heart. It was too strange to grasp. Finally, I forgot the
strangeness and simply sucked, savouring the taste and smell and feel
of him, as real as any man.
I was in some kind of dream
state. I could have gone on sucking him forever. Then I felt his
fingers, dabbling in my juices, and a fresh pang of desire shook me.
I wanted him there, deep inside me, fucking me the way he had
promised.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Let me know your thoughts! (And if you're having trouble commenting, try enabling third-party cookies in your browser...)