Adult Image Library 2/Adult_Image_Library_Volume_2.iso/stories/marguer.txt

Text File | 1996-08-27 | 8KB | 128 lines

     Marguerite stood on her toes and craned her neck, trying to catch
a glimpse of Edouard.  He had just arrived from a long business trip,
and she had been very lonely without him.  The 7 years they had been
together had dulled neither of their passion, and she could feel the
familiar wetness between her legs as she thought of lying next to his
strong, muscular body again.  What exciting times they had had, nights
that had seemed too short to contain their ardor, and sunshine-filled
days.  Although he was a well-respected white businessman and she a
mere quadroon woman, condemned to spend the rest of her life at the
fringes of real society, he had never treated her with anything but
the utmost respect.
     They had met at a quadroon ball, an affair especially designed to
provide young men with a mistress, and young mulatto women with a
provider for as long as her beauty opened his wallet.  She had been
eighteen then, flushed with excitement and terror as she faced the men
in the room.  Edouard had been captivated and so had she.  Had it not
been for each of their positions, she felt sure that he would have
married her, but she was accepting of the fate that they shared, and
she could only feel gratitude in having found such a wonderful
benefactor.
    There he was!  He bent down to give his wife Sylvie a perfunctory
kiss on the cheek.  She demurely dropped her head, and ducked out of
the crowd, but not before intercepting a wink from her lover.  She
hurried back home, anxious to prepare for his arrival that evening.
     He arrived at about 10:00, and immediately swept her in his arms
and began dancing her around the kitchen.  She laughed breathlessly,
feeling his excitement build up, as did her own.  He kissed her face,
her hands, and would have pressed his lips to her soft breasts had she
not pushed him away.
     "But, Edouard, we have not eaten yet!"
     "I'm trying to, but you won't let me."
     "But, Edouard, I spent all night cooking for you! Surely you will
have just one taste of my gumbo, eh?"
     "I know that you make the best gumbo in New Orleans, in the
world." He knelt down and began biting at the soft flesh in front of
him through the silk of her dress.  "Please, I want to eat another
delicacy now."
     She gently pushed his head away.  "Dinner first."
     He sighed deeply, as if some grievous wrong had been done him.
"All right, all right, I eat your cooking."
     She cuffed him affectionatley.  "You make it sound like a
punishment to eat my food."
     "I just wanted dessert first," he said.  "I haven't had any in a
while."
     He sat down at the table and began eating the generous portion in
front of him.  She sat on his lap and began feeding him like a child.
She did this with the gumbo, then with the amaretto pie.  He sucked
the creamy meringue of her fingers hungrily, lighting a spark
somewhere inside of her.  She ran her fingers through his hair and
tried to stop her heart from beating out of her chest, but he looked
at her with such passion in his eyes that she melted under the heat of
his gaze.  Still sitting, he straddled her legs over his and began
rubbing her back gently.  He kissed the hollow at the base of her
neck, and inserted his tongue into it, licking up and down, up and
down.  She moaned softly and held onto his head.  His tongue moved
further down into the deep cleft between her breasts.  Slowly he
traced back and forth in little circles, pausing to suck once on the
inside of her breasts.  Marguerite could feel the heat rising from
between her legs.  All of a sudden she felt overdressed.  She began
pulling at Edouard's shirt, fumbling over the buttons.  He ripped her
bodice open and pulled one of her dark brown nipples into his mouth,
holding it with just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp for
air.  After finally getting his shirt off, she played with his nipples
frantically, feeling them harden beneath her experienced fingers.  She
began grinding against his hips almost subconsciously, enrapturing
them both in a rhythm older than time.  He faltered in his suction,
and whispered gutturally, "Time for dessert, eh?"  She could only nod
her head.
     He carried her to the bedroom and almost threw her on the bed.
His hands reached for her, and pulled her lips to his.  She pushed her
tongue into his mouth, delving deeper and deeper, tasting the depths
of his mouth.  They paused for breath, panting in their exertion, and
he began again, torturously, to suck on her breasts.  He kissed first
one then the other reverently and began flicking at her taut nipples
with his tongue.  She quivered with delight and begged for him to
release her, but the look in his eyes told her that he intended on
driving her out of her mind.  His tongue dipped lower and lower,
tracing little whorls on her stomach, dipping into her belly button,
then wettinh the hairs on her pussy. He teased the area around her
clitoris, inserting his tongue in the soft folds of her pussy lips.
Just when it seemed he would stroke her clit with his tongue, he began
licking lower still, in between her thighs.  Mad with pleasure, she
tried to push his face into her cunt, but he just continued his
ministrations.  Her juices flowed freely between her legs now, and he
began licking them up.  She bucked her hips against his head, and
finally he began stroking her tumescent clit with his tongue, pulling
it into his mouth.  She nearly died from the pleasure, and tried to
push his whole face into her cunt.  He gladly acquiesced, rubbing his
face between her legs until she almost screamed with pleasure.  Then
he withdrew, to her dismay, and began building her up slowly.  He did
this repeatedly, until finally he could stand it no longer and he went
down on her with a fury. She did scream now in the midst of multiple
orgasms.
     It was a long time before she drifted back to earth, but when she
did, she realized that he had removed his pants and was rubbing his
engorged penis back and forth across her slick clitoris.  She allowed
him to enter only the tip, then pulled him out and continued rubbing
him against her.  Then she allowed him to enter a little more, but
again it was only a tease as she pulled him out and continued the
rhythm.  He kept going deeper and deeper until he was filling the
inside of her vagina totally, then pulling back.  He bucked hard
against her, slamming her violently into the bed.  She welcomed each
thrust, and matched it with her own uncontroll- able ardor.  Her legs
twined around his back as he came with ferocity inside of her.  They
lay there panting and sweating for several long minutes as his
erection slowly died.
     Quietly, Marguerite began the path down to his penis with her
hands and her mouth.  She did not leave any territory uncovered, and
when she finally reached her destination, she took all of him into her
mouth, feeling him grow without her doing anything.  She then shifted
him around and began focusing on the tip, pulling and sucking hard on
it.  She then began sucking him slowly, inch by inch, until with one
last hard suck, he went into her throat.  Now it was his turn to grab
her hair and pull her face into his skin.  When she felt him about to
come, she released him and let him subside for a few minutes, then
deep-throated him hard and fast.  She wanted him to experience the
same blend of pain-pleasure that he had given her, and from the look
on his face, she was accomplishing this admirably.  She went on like
this until even drawing back could no longer hold him.  Thick gobs of
sperm squirted the back of her throat, and even after he had stopped
pumping, she sucked the come from his soft penis.
     Exhausted and sated, they lay together in each other's arms until
dawn told them that Sylvie waited at home and he had a business to
run.  They dressed quietly and kissed each other softly, for they knew
that there would be other days.

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