Then I said softly, pouting,
"I am so wet..."
His face was a picture of pure undiluted lust as his eyes raked my body.
Until I said in a husky voice, full of longing,
"Next time, could you get vanilla ice cream? Please?
I love the creaminess..."
The look on his face was priceless.
"Hmm...I need to get out of these wet clothes." I went on pleasantly.
Grinning mischievously, I stretched my arms above my neck, drawing his attention to the dark triangle between my thighs as the shirt I was wearing rode up.
Covering my face, pretending to yawn, I sighed,
"Ah. I am so sleepy. Goodnight, Lucien." And I shut the door in his face.
***
I dissolved in giggles as I relived the look on his face, his confusion, the sexual tension he had been holding at bay, the astonishment and no doubt, the rage at having been made a fool of. The fact that he could hear me laughing only added to my amusement.
And my sense of triumph.
***
There was a silence. He smote the door hard once and I quivered. A series of oaths and then I heard him stride away, swearing.
***
Lucien
He stood in the shower cubicle, a powerful arm supporting himself against the wall, the other hand wrapped around his thick cock. He had been almost in a mood to break down her bedroom door and take her roughly, the little vixen who had teased him so deliberately, he thought savagely.
In the large mirrors lining the bathroom walls, he could make out his reflection, a man who looked on the edge.
When she had stood beside him, his cock had yearned to empty his seed in her again. The fragrance of her body, her hair floating around her like a deep brown curtain, the sultry, wet lips, plump, begging to be bitten, her brown eyes, soft and inviting. And that body, the luscious breasts with the pointed nipples and her juicy c*nt. He groaned in agony as his coc* reared like a live creature, demanding to be buried in her soft creamy folds.
For f*ck's sake, the woman was pregnant and he was, in his forties, as horny as a teenager, lusting after the youthful woman in his house so badly, he had blue balls as he dragged himself away from her door, the door she had all but slammed in his astonished, enraged face!
Proserpina
After a while, I decided to trail behind him.
Enough of teasing him, I thought as I left my room for God knows I needed to release my sexual tension too. And I had, after all, driven the man berserk just now. Slowly, I crept across to the elevator, my hair in a messy bun. The doors glided open noiselessly, carrying me up silently. The doors slid open just as smoothly when I entered the code, directly opening into the living room which was lit by dim lights.
As always, the lights over the bar were twinkling. A tumbler stood on the gleaming teak counter with half a glass of some amber liquid in it.
The view was magnificent in the daytime. At night, with the drapes drawn, it was near impossible to see anything.
No sign of the Master here, I thought playfully as I sauntered across to the bedroom, following the sounds of the water coming from there.
As always, I stood and stared at the huge, imposing bed that dominated the room. Enormous. Enough to fit my entire family of four in, I thought, looking at the way the plump pillows had been arranged, inviting a person to sleep...
The soft carpet muffled my steps as I padded barefoot across the huge bedroom to the bathroom. The bed was made, the large covers drawn back enticingly. Soft, the kind where you sink into the mattress.
I had never slept in this room before. It looked ostentatious with the paintings of famous artists adorning the wall. I stopped in surprise as I noticed a photograph of myself on the shelf beside the bed. It had obviously been taken when I was in Bhutan.
Stepping closer, I held the framed picture in my hands curiously.
It had been taken when I was staying at the monastery and heavy with the twins. I looked very young and sad, although I remembered the occasion. I had been smiling at my French friend, Brian.
Puzzled, I put it down. Then the truth hit me.
Lucien had probably employed a private detective to find me.
***
The chill air of the room reminded me that I was still in my damp clothing that clung to my body.
Purposefully, like a woman on a mission, I waddled over to the bathroom. As I crossed the dressing room, I caught sight of my reflection.
The wildness of my eyes gave away my intention.
Yes, I was desperate to be laid.
By my husband...
*
Smiling slightly, I opened the glass doors leading into the huge bathroom.
And stopped.