0 comments/ 17932 views/ 4 favorites The Gun Seller in Retreat By: empty_coffee_cup Author's note: This story has a little bit of most things, but I thought I should mention that there are some water sports later on since that might be an unwelcome surprise for some people. It's not the focus of the story at all, and I hope that even if it's not your thing you'll still enjoy the piece as a whole. Ratings and any feedback at all would be much appreciated. Thanks to WWL for giving it the once over, and thanks for reading. - - - Lazy, autumnal sun-beams forced him off the couch and onto the floor. Autumn and yet still it was too hot. A strange year. He lay flat on the white floorboards of the pool house and listened to his back complain about the correction to his posture. Charlie had missed this climate while out East. He had missed this soporific autumn and wished he could have returned in better circumstances. As it was he was under self-imposed house arrest. No one would have the slightest inkling to look for him here, and Thomas Garner Jr. - heir to this great estate - owed him a sizable debt. He wouldn't be pushing it to camp out in this little shack for another few months at least. Perhaps then attention would have died down to the extent he could risk raising his head, scooping out a few accounts and finding somewhere in South America to live out his days. He was being overly dramatic but he didn't care. It helped to pass the time. His hands on his belly, he waited for the evening, waited to prepare dinner because he didn't feel like reading the next book in the endless library that he was forced to devote his time to. More than that though he waited for the week to end so that T. Howard Garner Sr. and his sylph-like bitch of a daughter would head back to New York and he could hang out with Tommy again, could go chase tail in town again. His hands on his belly, he longed to use the gym up at the main house. He felt like he was going to seed down here in pool house number three or wherever the fuck he was. Far enough away from the main house that they would never know he was on the estate, that was for sure - he was persona non grata amongst the rest of the Garner clan. Through no fault of his own, he thought sourly. How could he be held responsible for the catastrophically unpredictable winds of global finance? Shit, they still had their billions - just a few less than before. Lying on the floor between the couch and the low, glass coffee table, he listened to birds outside. He had no idea what kind of birds they were - not his field. He remembered the Uzbek countryside though, how the verdant parts gave way to a place where all the trees were grey and no birds sang. He shivered. He hadn't heard any footsteps, but the door clicked open. There had been no knock - Tommy always knocked. Every single part of him stopped working, he simply froze up in fear. He couldn't move, couldn't bring himself to rise up onto his elbows and peer over the couch, to face what he was sure must be his pursuers like a man. He looked down the length of his body - fuck. His feet were sticking out, in clear view of the door. He prayed, as every man before him must have done when faced with their moment of reckoning, for the floor to open up and swallow him. Soft feet padded about, quiet but making no effort to be all that cautious. Floorboards creaked. Something moved on a bookshelf. Then there was silence, pure but for the smokers rattle of his lungs. "Who the fuck..." She appeared next to his head, brandishing a massive hardcover like a weapon, ready to bring it down on his skull. Must have been the first thing that came to hand when she had spotted him. "Charlie." "Cadey." His heart kicked back in at a terrific rate, making up for the beats it had been sitting out. Tommy's sister. Not some international kidnapper ready to bring a black sack down over his head at all. "What the fuck are you doing down here? Does Daddy know you're here?" "How are you Cadey?" He looked up at her looming over him in a fitted, checked summer shirt and billowy three quarter length pants. Her red hair tied back and a familiar suspicious frown firmly in place on her face, she was barefoot - always barefoot in summer - that was why he hadn't heard her coming. "No, no," she reasoned, "He mustn't know you're here. Or he would have damn well stormed down here with a shotgun and put you out of your misery." "Cadey..." "What the fuck are you doing here Charlie?" "I'm in trouble." He sat up, stood up then stretched. She took a step back despite her all-powerful self-confidence - he was twice her size after all, and loomed over her now. "More trouble than I'm in with your father, and Tommy was a good man. He's helping me lay low for a while." "Did you kill someone or something?" There was no temerity in her voice, in fact her lips were pulled back in distaste - that she might be sharing air with a criminal of all things. Like her father wasn't. "No," he sighed, already weary of the judgement and superiority. "It's all financial, but some... former associates of mine seem to lay the blame for the... vagaries of international politics at my feet." "You fucked someone over just like you did Daddy." She smirked like she had him pinned down now, like he was fitting perfectly into the 'Charlie' category in her head. He dropped onto the sofa, heaving another sigh, while she dropped her tome on the dining table behind her. Both of them lit cigarettes and the air became comfortingly acrid. "I didn't fuck anyone over, Cadey..." "It's Cadence, no-one calls me Cadey anymore." One arm crossed her body just below her small breasts, the other elbow rested on that. Her forearm was perfectly vertical and the thin material of the shirt slipped down a little. Her wrist was cocked at a disinterested 45 degrees, the cigarette hanging between two fingers. "I didn't fuck anyone over, Cadence." He was tired of this. It wasn't even like he had been protesting his innocence to people over and over again - he never met anyone who knew a single thing about him anymore, thank the Lord. But he'd been over the whole mess so many times in his head that it felt like he should be done with it - this whole thing should be over by now. Fuck, why wasn't it over? He glanced at his own thick fingers and found he had already almost crushed his cigarette half to death. "What happened..." "I really," she interrupted in a tone that cut into him, "truly, don't give a flying fuck what happened." A pale plume of smoke rose from her pale lips to caress the low ceiling. He sat looking up at her for several minutes, waiting, apparently in vain, for her to continue. She lowered her chin and pinned him with a gaze akin to that of a butcher on a dairy farm. "So then, what are you going to do?" Charlie leaned forwards, adjusted his shirt. Cadey had always been one of those terrifyingly precocious girls who could bend reality simply by sheer dint of will. Dealing with her like this made him even more tired. He could fight his corner, but he knew it wouldn't help. "Well," she licked her lower lip, a thinking motion, "I should tell Daddy about you, shouldn't I?" "You're not the kind of girl who needs to pander to her father anymore I think Cadey." "Stop calling me Cadey, and I do actually have to take Daddy into consideration considering it's still his blessed money I'm living off. Or rather my assets are still tied to the family business and I'm still under his wrinkled, old thumb. A few extra good girl points wouldn't go amiss." Cadey took a long, long drag on her cigarette before continuing. "Especially after that horrible Paris thing." Charlie couldn't help the low, rocky chuckle that shook him at that. He'd seen the newspapers - MILLIONAIRE HEIRESS IN SORDID MENAGE-A-TROIS WITH BALLET DANCER. If 'Daddy' did cut her off, Cadey would probably be able to land a reality TV show without much difficulty. "Fuck off, Charlie," he noted the tiniest hint of a smile twitching at the corner of her lips for the first time. "It was completely irresistible. He was delicious and she was... just divine. How could I say no?" Cadey's eyes were elsewhere and Charlie took a moment to let his own gaze drift over the porcelain beauty of his friend's sister - her flawless, china complexion; her slender, lovely neck and those fashion illustration cheekbones. She was gorgeous and of course the thought of her perfect lithe limbs tangling with those of a prima ballerina crossed his mind. His pulse quickened. "But Daddy gets peeved whenever my fun makes the newspapers." "Isn't life cruel? Your father's pissed off at you because you're a slut, and scary ex-soviet spies want to kill me because one lousy business deal went askew." He shouldn't have pushed it, but there was something about Cadey that always made him want to try to put her in her place. "Fuck you, give me one good reason I shouldn't go tell Daddy about you right this instant." "I don't think you need a reason Cadey, I think you've got your own. Otherwise you would be halfway back to the house by now." He tried to restore some dimension to his cigarette end, failed, and lit another. Cadey was silent, he looked at his fingers and listened to her drag, then exhale. He felt as if he was watching the shadows crawl across the floor, as if he could see the sun dipping into the trees. Those birds were still there. "You know what was lovely? She was shaved and waxed to perfection." Her crossed arm descended, her fingers splayed as she ran her hand over her belly and cupped her mound brazenly. "Down here, I mean." "Uh-huh?" Charlie raised his eyes to her slender fingers, then raised them again to her face and fought to keep them there. A smirk was in full effect on her perfect features. "For the ballet I guess, she has to be? Anyway, it seemed to drive her boyfriend crazy." Her hand came up to her hip now, a finger slipping into the waistband of her loose linen pants. "But you know me, I have to have what I want, when I want it. I watched him, wonderful Gallic stallion that he was, go down on her until she was a quivering, twitching little bon-bon, then I went and diverted his attention when he tried to mount her." "Huh." No response was needed, but he had to say something. There was an undeniable increase in mass and bulk in his pants. Cadey couldn't see anything he was sure, because of his awkward leaning position on the low sofa. "She got quite put out when she realised that her garcon was reaming my tight little cunt rather than hers." How much of this was true and how much was bullshit Charlie couldn't say. Did he like where this was going? He wasn't too sure about that either. God, of course he'd like to fuck Cadence Garner - and he was sure she'd be the fuck of his life. But he doubted it would be simple or casual when it came to Cadey; it would be getting himself entangled even further with the volatile, very public Garner family, and for him any publicity was bad publicity. "Of course I apologised most profusely in my... shocking French. And I'm pretty sure she accepted later on - somewhere around the time I was tickling at her tiny, pink asshole with my tongue while her 'homme' was plunging into her French honey-pot, inches from my face - I'm sorry, am I boring you Charlie?" "I'm..." He had moved only to let his underwear slip forward and release some of the painful pressure that had built on his growing erection. "No, not at all." "All that time..." she mused. She stepped towards him, her small frame towering over him now, to one side of the coffee table while his shins pressed awkwardly against it and he hunched forwards over the thick, hard shaft that had developed at the centre of him. "Out there in those dirty Eastern European hell-holes, doing deals with very bad men..." her teasing smile got cruel, "Exactly how many skanky Russian whores did you fuck while you were out there? Or did you lose count? Did you smuggle some back in your Vuitton luggage?" He glanced up sharply. "I was never involved in any of that." It was a truth, and some truths he had needed practice to come out with when things went south for him, but this one was easy. He was a dirty, grubby man in a lot of ways but he had never knowingly dealt with anyone who treated flesh as a commodity. Then again, he'd long since realised that what he didn't know about the people he did business with could fill the seven seas. "Oh, touchy. Went blue-balled the whole time then did you?" "Not your business, Cadey, I don't think." "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me Cadey?" Her voice was very quiet now, he could hear the last few birds of the evening chorus over it. Quiet and not to be ignored. "And what about... fuck, what was her name?" "I've been divorced for five years now. You know that." He tapped ash into the large glass ashtray at the centre of the table and Cadence leaned down to do the same. The neck of her shirt hung open as she stooped, but he kept his eyes down and tried to ignore the pale, peach blur of her bare skin in the corner of his eye. "No, but really though," she straightened up, and her voice pressed, a bladed instrument twisting in his side, "what was her name?" "Don't be a bitch, Cadey." "I'm perfectly, deadly serious Charlie!" she laughed. "I don't remember her name!" "Gloria." "Gloria!" she let the name slide slowly off her tongue. The tongue that had probably explored every delicate erogenous zone on that lucky ballerina's body. "Gloria, that's right," there was a beat, "She was frigid, right?" "Oh, fuck you!" he exclaimed, and almost stood sharply to confront her. Almost, because he still had that weight, that bulge that she'd see as soon as he moved. And then she'd have him, for whatever twisted little purpose she had in mind. "No, she was not." "Well, anyway," she pouted, pretending to have been stung by his tone, "My point being: it's not healthy for a man of your age to go for too long without... oh you know..." She thrust her hips forward crudely and laughed again, carefree and full-throated. "Cadey- Cadence, I do fine, thank you." He smiled at her acidly as she started to move, to walk slowly around the table in front of him. She smoked, and looked up and into the distance as if musing on the nature of existence. So what if he was, finally, starting to pick up a little weight in his thirties? So what if he was worrying about getting paunchy? Almost all of his bulk was still muscle, and he could still read girls' impressions of him without lying to himself. After all there'd been little to do out those strange, empty, luxury hotels in Europe's hinterlands other than drink in the bars and work out in the gyms. And fuck the strange, empty, luxury hookers that seemed to live in the hotels. They hadn't been cheap like Cadence had insinuated; they'd had the scent of money all over them. "Well, I'm glad you think so, but perhaps we should compare recent conquests." "I don't really want to hear about which pea-brained actor was the latest notch on your bedpost, Cadey." "Oh no," she kept walking, not looking at him, picking up one of his dirty coffee cups now to tap her cigarette off into, "what I mean is that I bet I've fucked a lot more, and a lot cuter girls than you have recently, Charlie dear." He ran his tongue across his teeth, behind his lips, irritated. "I mean, add the boys in and it would be not contest at all." "What do you want, Cadey? Just what do you want?" "I just want to catch up with my darling brother's bestest friend!" Her voice rang hollowly, mocking him. She had made a complete semi-circle in front of him, dragging his gaze from one side of the table to the other as he followed her slim, graceful form. She kept moving too, walking past the end of the couch now, starting to leave his field of vision. "Now, Paris... I hardly think that it's fair to start there, but let's." He could stand up, ignore her, leave. He could take the wrath of her fool-of-a-father but he knew that his little hidey-hole wouldn't be so safe and cosy once word got out. But he stayed seated, hunched over, and he lit another cigarette. "So there we were, she was lying on her back, her little slit - and I mean, it just looked so very delicate and perfect, and bare as the day she was born as I said - her little slit open just the tiniest bit, luscious, fuschia pink inside and shining, gleaming with... ballerina juice." She stopped behind him. "And her eyes were closed, she had just come, of course, and she was mumbling in French for her chevalier - or cheval, I forget which - to come truly sate her. I believe at that point they thought they were putting on a show for me, and I do so love a show. But then, I do so hate not being the centre of attention too. "The whole time he'd been licking her to heaven I'd been lying back on this, this gorgeous, plush chaise-longues, stark naked but for my heels and this scandalous thong, and of course I'd... I'd pulled the thong to one side, so my own... my pussy could get some attention. But it was only my fingers that were giving it any attention, malheureusement." She was right behind him, leaning back against the dining table, he guessed. Watching him? Waiting for some kind of reaction. "I got my little puss so wet watching them and stroking it!" Charlie swallowed as Cadence's voice got softer, breathier, more playful. "But that was... that wasn't anywhere near enough. So, as he was stroking himself to perfection about to slide on into that... oh-so tight looking hole, I came up behind him, slipped my arms around him and gave him two helping hands. "Of course, my hands were still all wet and sticky from my naughty puss." Charlie coughed, and Cadence paused, considerately waiting for him to get his breath. For a moment he thought that she might not continue after the interruption but she didn't keep him waiting for long. "So I'm stroking him, my nipples all hard and pressing into his back - I think he might have been a rugby player, you know, I remember it was quite a stretch to reach that shaft. Oh, I should say he was big too, but I'm sure you're such a hetero fellow that the detail doesn't interest you at all. Anyway, when he was perfectly, perfectly hard and straining to go, snorting like a horse and desperate to plough that freshly licked furrow in front of him, I took him sharply with one hand and turned him aside. "I pumped him, I slid his soft skin back and forth along that massive prick - oh, did I mention he wasn't cut? Well, while his petite copine lay back in a daze I pulled him down - by his cock - to his knees, and went down on my hands and knees in front of him, wagging my tail like the dirty little American bitch I am. "I think you always want a little variation in your diet don't you? So I wasn't really surprised that he couldn't resist. A little tuft of hair, that dirty, slutty thong pulled aside, and I daresay my cunt looked a little wetter and more inviting than hers did. So like I say, no surprise that he grabbed a hold of my poor hips and pulled me back onto him. Took him a moment to find my fucking slit, of course - I don't think he was blessed much in the brains department - but when he did... oh Charlie... you're missing out, not having a pussy to get fucked with like that. "He split me open and just- just started pounding me. I was wailing away like some slutty banshee in no time of course... I mean, I had to get her attention somehow didn't I? I was spitting and cursing as best I could in French - ohh garcon, your baguette is tres bon... horrible, tacky stuff, I know, but it got the job done, and suddenly she was sitting up watching us making dirty, animal love on the floor and cursing a lot more fluently than I did. "But he was gone, he didn't fucking care. This was probably all he'd been hoping for since I came up to their little apartment thing, and then she was over and he was driving that massive shaft into me like he wanted to ruin me for other men, which-," she snorted, "good luck with that! And he was, I'm ashamed to say, a little too much for me. He put his hand on the back of my neck," she was leaning, getting closer to him, he could hear it, "he forced my head down onto the floor, kept my hips up where he could fuck them," she was definitely moving towards him now, a wisp of her smoke drifted in front of him, "and the ballerina reached us, and slapped him full in the face at exactly the moment he came inside me." The Gun Seller in Retreat Charlie couldn't feel his chest moving, and wasn't sure he was breathing at all. Then he felt her breath on his ear. "Get your cock out, Charlie." She was what, eight years younger than him? She had no power over him. Anything he did, anything at all, would be the wrong thing to do. But he was tired of this interminable battle of wills, tired and now really, really fucking horny. His big hands went to his belt, and with a sigh of relief he leaned back. "I knew you were fucking sporting down there," she whispered triumphantly. "Show it to me." He unbuckled unhurriedly, unbuttoned, unzipped and then he lifted his backside off the sofa with the kind of sigh of effort that he never used to make, and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. He was proud of his cock. It was big, it looked right and it made girls exclaim delightedly when they first saw it. He almost smirked to note that Cadence was no different. She gasped, and then he felt her lean on the sofa back. He caught a flash of flyaway hair in the corner of his vision and then the blur of her face. She was leaning over his shoulder looking down at the bulky, half-hard prick that he had obediently exposed for her. "Awww," she whined, "I thought you'd be rock solid, but you're only thick and... and swollen. And fat," she added, audibly licking her lips. Oh, that had better be where this was heading, after all this, Cadence Garner down on her knees giving him a good mouth-fucking was all he deserved. "Well, we can work on that. Start wanking off for me, Charlie. Start wanking and I'll keep telling you the story." He paused, and hoped he looked to be keeping his cool. He idly reached down with his right hand and lifted his heavy organ, stroking it idly. With his other hand he leaned, dragged the ashtray closer and tapped ash into it. Then he leaned back and took a long, slow drag. "Ok," he nodded, after exhaling, "I'm listening." "Oh, you're funny Charlie!" Cadence giggled. "Now, where was I? Oh yes the rutting beast with his throbbing organ deep in my... my personal, private places, spilling his rich French seed over my Fertile colonial soil." His prick was becoming turgid, rising up out of his lap in a defiant, demanding way. "You missed a calling there, Cadey. World always needs another cheap eroticist." "Shush, you'll make me lose my train of thought." She almost breathed the words into his ear, and immediately after he felt a warm wet touch caress his earlobe. Fuck! Licking his ear, she made his cock twitch in his grasp and he had to slow his already lethargic stroking. "So he was coming in me, his hips still churning away and I could feel it... hot and pulsing out inside of me... mmm. The description is wasted on you I'm afraid, you have no idea of the satisfaction in that sensation. And his girlfriend was slapping and screeching at him - far too fast for me to follow I'm afraid - and the next thing I know he's pulling that tremendous cock out of me and standing up to reason with her." Charlie stroked and listened, saw and felt the precum building on his purpling head. "I was a little exhausted, lying flat on the floor now just feeling that thick spunk ooze its way out of my poor little puss-puss, so I didn't catch how the conversation ended. The next thing I know, though, she's got my hair wound up into her fist and she's growling in... oh so sexily accented English that I'd better get Pierre or Pascal or whatever up and ready for action in no time at all. She yanks me by my hair - me! Millionair heiress Cadence Garner! - to my knees and shoves my face into his sticky, messy crotch. "I feel his cock - the flag descending of course - wipe across my cheek and into my hair. It's still coated in my juice and his own hot sperm and it stinks divinely. I'm a little concerned about keeping my hair on my head, and feeling a little guilty about my own part in the darling little diva's hissy-fit, so I go right to it. I opened my mouth wide - like this," he couldn't see, but he heard a sigh and could imagine her mouth opening wide next to his ear. He wanted to pull her over the sofa - to force that mouth onto his own raging prick. His precum was smeared all over his fingers now and- and he was jerking it fast, seriously. When had he started doing that? "I opened my mouth wide and took his flaccid bulk on my tongue - tasted my own cunt and his cum - and started working him back to life." Charlie's cigarette was dead again, but he didn't want the hassle of sorting out a new one with his cum-stained hand. Cadence caught the longing glance he sent to the packet of smokes though, and without stopping her pornographic recollection she leaned over the sofa, extracted a cigarette, put it to his lips and lit it with his own lighter. "Thanks," he mumbled around it, urging his hand to stay slow, fighting to stay in control of himself. Cadence ignored him and carried on. "So he's getting harder and harder in my mouth, starting to fill me, stretching my jaw and threatening to choke me. And then what do you know but I feel these two little hard points in my back, those adorable ballerina nipples pressing into me as I try to back off. My hands are on his balls and the base of his shaft, because he's already - very quickly mind you, I was very impressed - he's already too big for me to fit in my perfect mouth." Only Cadence Garner would describe her own mouth as perfect. Unbelievable. "Her hands, meanwhile are reaching around and pulling, pinching and thoroughly assaulting my own poor titties! I think it was all envy, I mean - I don't have the biggest titties in the world, I'll be the first to admit that, but they are a lot bigger than a ballerina's!" Charlie wanted to make that judgement for himself. He'd fucked ballerinas, and right now he'd like to see Cadence's tits for himself and spill a heavy load on them - just for comparison's sake. "She was quite vicious! She really made me squirm and I was quite relieved when the stallion announced his readiness to fuck once more. Then of course she grabbed me by the hair again and dragged me off my knees and over to the bed. "She had this wonderful accent that I won't even try to do, but she leads me over to this huge four-poster that I'd been watching them frolic on before, and bends me over the foot of it. She bends me over so the top half of me is laying down across the bed and my legs are still standing on the floor - I'm a big right angle if you see what I mean - and she kicks my legs apart. And all the time she's saying 'Oh you American whore! So arrogant! You are our guest but you demand to be served first? You cloud my dear Pierre's mind! You want him to fuck you so much?' I didn't realise it wasn't a rhetorical question of course, so she had to repeat it. 'You want him to fuck you?' and I... I had to admit I had - I did. And she said - 'Well, now he gets a treat. I never let him fuck my anus, even though he asks. But you, you are just a whore. You, of course, he can fuck in the anus.' She said anus, of course, just like that. Dictionary English you know." Goddamnit this was insane. His heart was hammering from having to hold back, from trying not to blow his load at any moment and Cadence still related the story as if it was a funny thing that a waiter had done in a restaurant at the weekend. "And I... Well, I won't say I'm against it - you know, taking it in the ass," fuck, he wanted to cum so badly - in her ass, on her tits, in her mouth, in her delicate red hair, "but it wasn't on my to do list that day. So I start to stand up, to say, well - merci for the evening, but I really must be going. But Pierre he... well he really must have been looking forward to it because he's already behind me. He drags my arm up behind my back - they really were a horribly violent couple - and I'm screaming bloody murder but he pins me to the bed. Still bent over I feel his huge, hot head nuzzling against the crack of my ass - edging down, looking for my opening. "Then suddenly I realise that she's hopped onto the bed in front of me and is shuffling down, legs spread, bringing her dainty, shining little cunt right up to my face. 'While he is fucking your whore-anus,' she says 'I want the world's most expensive whore to eat my pussy.'" Charlie felt a headache coming on. He swallowed but his throat was dry. His prick was a boiling tower of pure feeling in his lap, his hand no longer listening to his brain's instructions. "Then the brute just- just fucked into me. He shoved his thick horse-meat into me as far as he could and shoved me forwards face-first into that dainty little French fancy." "Gnuh!" Charlie lost. He lost control and the white-hot pleasure that had been wrapping itself around his brain, his groin and his chest reached its apotheosis. He came massively, without restraint. Thick ropes of his spunk arced into the air, splashing against his arms, his shirt, the sofa. So much for taking all this out on Cadence. "Oh goodness, Charlie." She was laughing, not giggling, laughing hysterically. "That was glorious! Good grief you made a mess of yourself. Almost got some on me!" Goddamnit. "But couldn't you have held on a little longer? I didn't even get to the good bit. When we dialled for room service and the cameras came out. Why, you didn't even get to hear about how the brute released his second load of the night into my tight, tender ass! How I begged him to stop before that! How I sucked the third load out of her pussy! Oh, you missed a treat." "Well," Charlie looked down at the strings and stains of cum on his shirt, let his head fall back with a sigh and blew a cloud of smoke around his cigarette, "You could always do what you did for that Frenchman and suck me back to life." "Oh Charlie!" she sounded shocked. "I couldn't possibly! You're Tommy's best friend!" What a stupefying bitch, Charlie thought. "I will, however, be back tomorrow night with some decent food for you. If you don't flee the country or get assassinated first that is." She was leaving? Of course she was. He almost couldn't be bothered to look. He almost just stayed where he was, spent and old and outplayed by someone a whole lot younger than him. But he looked, he twisted to see her - looking exactly the same as when she first came in - pick up a bottle of wine, blow him a kiss and stride out. Fucking Cadence Garner. What had he gotten himself into? - - - It had been necessary to jerk another load out before he could get to sleep that night. And then all day the next day he felt... off balance. Every now and then - doing push-ups, making a sandwich, lighting a cigarette - he would suddenly realise he was getting hard, that blood was rushing to his groin and he had to fight the urge to just take care of matters and make himself cum right then and there. But he wanted to save himself. She'd been a tease last night, had wanted to see how game he was, he supposed. But tonight. Oh for sure tonight. He'd take that pussy, those rosy lips - hell even that tight little asshole if he felt like it. He wondered if Cadence had told Tommy she'd found him. Probably not. The hands of the clock creeped and oozed round. Time dragged and he didn't even know when to expect her. He showered again at around six o'clock, knowing that she'd only let herself in anyway. It was as he was towelling his hair dry that she arrived. She knocked once, opened the door without waiting for a reply and strode in. And following her, carrying a large picnic hamper, came another woman. "Cadence," he almost jumped, "Cadey, what the fuck!? No-one's supposed to know I'm here! Did that fact slip your fucking mind?" "What?" She frowned, taken aback by the confrontational greeting. "Who," Charlie pointed with his lit cigarette, "the fuck is this?" "Oh! Oh you idiot Charlie, this is Mia!" "And who the hell is Mia?!" "She's my PA, you numbskull. My major domo. Can't live without her, ever since I met her in New York, what... three months ago?" "Four," Mia smiled, clearly on edge. "Who do you think took those photos in Paris? A fucking bellboy? It's not Mia's fault that those Parisienne berks were so careless with the photos we gave to them." "I thought," Charlie started, then shrugged and dropped the point hopelessly. Cadence would do what Cadence did. The only thing he could hope was that this Mia didn't know who he was, and wouldn't shoot her mouth off as soon as she got back to New York about the fellow she'd met in Cadence Garner's pool house. "Mia, this is my brother's best pal Charlie. He's normally a lot more civil. Don't tell me father you saw him, he'll shoot him." "Pleased to meet you," Mia smiled again, a little more relaxed now. She put the hamper on the table and stretched her sore arms. "Likewise, Mia." Charlie sighed, draped the towel around his shoulders. "Less chat Mi-Mi. I'm sure Charlie's very hungry. Hustle! Hustle!" Cadence clapped her hands, watched Mia lift the hamper into the small adjoining kitchen, then lit a cigarette. "She's incredible." "You need a major domo?" Charlie lit a new stick of his own. "I actually do. I can't be everywhere all at the same time. I do have some business interests of my own you know." "Actually I didn't." His hair was dry enough, so he tossed his towel over the bedroom door. Mia emerged from the kitchen with a rattling stack of dishes and proceeded to shuttle back and forth, bringing out dishes and cutlery. Some of the bowls she produced were still steaming and before long a miniature banquet had developed on the table. Charlie's nerves were still jangling after the day before, so of course he was checking out Cadey's little PA. She was cute - of course she was, Cadence wouldn't even consider hiring anyone she wouldn't fuck - but she was curvier than his idea of Cadey's usual girls. In fact she went a little way beyond curvy into 'plump' perhaps even 'chubby'. Every time Mia put something on the table she bent and her smart grey skirt got pulled tight - so tight - over her succulent rump. Charlie watched as she straightened up and adjusted her cream blouse over what looked to be fabulously full, heavy breasts, and tightened his lips. Was she part of Cadey's plans for the evening? She had to be. He couldn't guess at her ethnicity. Her skin was a gorgeous golden colour, and her hair a rich brown, but he really couldn't guess where they had originated. It didn't matter. He'd had fucking on the brain ever since yesterday and there was no way that now, in the presence of sexual tormentress Cadence Garner and her juicy assistant, any of that was going to go away. As he sat down at the table he realised he'd been throttling another cigarette. He caught Cadey's eyes, the amusement and mockery there unmistakable. "Mia, darling. Wine please." "Of course, Cadence." Mia nodded her head in a way that invoked deference if not servitude. What an interesting web Cadey had spun for herself. And Charlie was grateful for the food as well as the female company. He was a fine cook, but it was nice to have a little indoor picnic like this laid on for him. Cadence made airy small talk and picked like a bird at a small salad she had arranged on her plate, while he availed himself of fine bread, wine and a rich pate made with a herb that he was a little embarrassed to note he couldn't quite place. Mia came and went, filling glass after glass of a wonderful red wine for them, and sometimes joining them at the table, making her way through her own bottle of white. Cadence surprised him too, shooting affectionate little smiles in the curvaceous girl's direction and filling her glass almost as quickly as she could drink it. They talked about old times and current gossip and to Charlie's relief avoided all talk of work, money or what he was doing hiding out in pool house number 3. They all got drunker and drunker, and that was fine with him because he noted the drunker he got the more he was able to let the tension within himself ride, not let it overtake him. Of course, they couldn't eat and drink forever. Mia was refilling all of their glasses once more when her arm seemed to spasm and a rich, red plume of merlot curled through the air and slapped him in the chest. He found that in his slightly addled state it seemed to happen in slow motion. He felt like he had plenty of time to prepare his outraged response. "Fuck!" He shoved his chair back and stood. Cadence, predictably, erupted into laughter. The red wine had quickly soaked into his expensive shirt, and was spattered across his pale slacks too. Both ruined. It was the most spectacular serving slip he'd ever seen - he would have been laughing had he not been so livid. "The fuck were you thinking? What the holy fuck was that? Are you retarded?" Ugly words, business words, they sprang back to his tongue so easily. "I'm sorry." She was flinching, clutching the bottle to her chest like a charm and all the while Cadence was almost hyperventilating. She was actually pounding on the table, fighting for breath. "You are too much!" "I'm sure you find this fucking hilarious, but I don't exactly have a wardrobe full of clothes here, Cadey." "Not you, Charlie! Jeez, get over yourself, do. Mia's the one. She really is too much!" "She does shit like this a lot then? Fucking ridiculous shit like this?" His shirt was starting to stick to him a little, and he tugged it away from his chest. Mia, standing, shrinking between them had hung her head and her hair covered her face so he couldn't tell what expression she was wearing. "Apologise, Mia." "I did," she muttered, almost petulantly. She'd done nothing all night but smile and show that she knew her place. Now what was this shit? "Not enough you fucking didn't!" Charlie gestured at himself. There was a moment of silence, shattered by a broad guffaw from Cadey. "You don't get it, Charlie?" She leaned forward, resting her chin on the heel of one palm while she traced the rim of her glass with the other hand. "I get that your little PA fucked up my clothes. You know shit like this is irreparable!" Cadence pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, and he felt like smashing plates. "She wants punishing." "She what?" "Mia," Cadence kept looking at him, but addressed the curvy, suddenly sullen figure standing between them. "Don't you think you deserve punishing for that." "..." "Don't get coy, darling." "I think I should be punished." "Oh good grief, Cadence." Charlie started rubbing at his eyes with index finger and thumb. This girl was just as insane as everything else in Cadence's life. "You hear that, Charlie? Don't you want to punish her for ruining your thousand-dollar shirt? I know you do..." "You're both insane." He wanted to punish Mia, sure. He wanted to see if she was trimmed or shaved, to spread those soft thighs and get this pressure off his chest. But he wanted even more than that to keep his cool and show that he wasn't some toy for Cadence to amuse herself with. "It's the only way I'll learn," Mia whispered, a strange tremble in her voice. "Yeah well, I'm not the punishing sort, when it comes to 'accidents' with wine." He moved to sit down, and she moved with him and jerked the bottle at him again. What the holy hell!? There was barely anything left in the bottle, only a few drops, but it was the childish way she did it that really made him see red. This fucking girl - falling into Cadence's stupid fucking world. Yes, he'd punish her. He didn't register the movements he was making, but suddenly he was up and facing her. His hand was on her shoulder and he was spinning her to face the table. He twisted her arm up and behind her back. She squealed in surprise and what might have been real pain as he bent her over the table, one hand on her wrist the other on the back of her neck. He pushed her, scattering plates, shunting cutlery onto the floor and rattling the table. The Gun Seller in Retreat He kept her arm twisted up and she kept leaning into the table, trying to ease the pressure on it. Then before he knew what he was doing, his other hand was off her neck, down past her ass and he was hiking her skirt. He stopped, let his brain catch up with his rage, then decided he wanted to continue. "Oh, this is exactly the sort of thing I think will teach her a lesson," Cadence said, still leaning casually on the table, a foot or so from her PA's pinned torso. Charlie ignored her. He moved aside a bit, still keeping her pinned with her arm behind her back. Then again, now that she seemed to have found a relatively comfortable position she really wasn't struggling very much. In the silent aftermath of the rattling crockery and Mia hitting the table the girl's ragged breathing was clearly audible. Her luscious ass made hiking her skirt a little tricky. He had to really tug it to slide it over the curve of her rump, but once it was up it stayed up. Her panties were plain white cotton with a full back. It wasn't a thong, but it was a little too small to contain the ass it had been assigned. Charlie felt his pulse thump in his temples and his cock thicken in his wine-spotted slacks. "Say sorry," he said, his voice low and rough, the words trapped in his throat, unable to escape properly. She didn't say anything, and he was listening so hard to her light, shuddering breathing that he forgot all about Cadence sitting right next to him. He was pinning her with his left hand. His right hand came up. Big and firm, not yet gone to seed. He looked down at her ass and then his hand came at it in a sharp, sudden curve. The report, as his flat palm struck her full, soft ass, was quieter than he'd expected. He supposed it was a long time since he'd spanked anyone. "Ahn!" She half cried, half moaned out the sound. He didn't notice really, his eyes were fixed on the way her right ass-cheek jiggled on impact, and then on how the red blush started to rise around the edge of her panties. The panties had to go down, he needed to see that glorious ass flush rosy pink properly. His hand stung, but he knew she felt it more. He hooked fingers into the waistband and unceremoniously yanked the white panties over her ass and down. He kept pushing them until they were half way down her thighs, and he knew that if he were to crouch down now he'd probably see her flushed little pussy peeking out between her curvy thighs. He let his thumb accidentally slip between her legs as he brought his hand back up to squeeze - almost to maul - the red area where he had just hit her. She squirmed on the table. "I said - apologise," he said. He waited and still nothing came. The apology she'd let slip before had probably been an accident, he reflected. An instinct in the face of him actually looking like he might seriously hurt her. She'd wanted this all along. The next slap rang out in a far more satisfying way, and this time he could notice and fully appreciate her torn cry of pain mingled with pleasure. Her cheek flushed beautifully. Perhaps he should have been holding back? Building things up? Fuck her, she wanted punishment, this is what she'd get. He was almost completely hard in his pants, the loose slacks not impeding the growth of his member at all, as he squeezed her soft ass-flesh again and brought his hand back for number three. CRACK! The sound of it cut the air and she bit down on the cry of pain as her butt quivered wonderfully. This time, almost without thinking, he didn't go for her ass, his hand moved of its own accord down between her thighs. His index and ring fingers led and squeezed between her plump thighs aiming for their prize. They found it almost immediately in the hot, moist valley down there, and it yielded to him just as quickly. His two fingers slipped between the soft, moist lips of her sex and into the tight embrace within. "Ah! Aaah!" she cried out in surprise. She must have been expecting more sharp chastisement from his hand - not this invasion. Her thighs and the tight valley between them meant that he could only reach a short way into her, but he could still move his fingers. He starting working her and felt her wriggle beneath his hand in a whole new way. "Cadence, Ca- He's, he's..." "You ruined Charlie's shirt Mi-Mi." Cadence was pouring herself another glass of wine, trying to hold the glass with her cigarette hand so as not to drop ash in it. "He can punish you anyway he sees fit. You want a spanking, but maybe he has something else in mind." Charlie had a whole lot of things in mind, but spanking seemed a good way to start. He drew his fingers from her and half registered the new sticky shine they carried before he struck her again. She whimpered, then whined as he delved back into her pussy, his limited strokes and thrusts getting the over-sexed PA wetter and wetter. "Spread your legs." "I - I can't, the panties are..." "Don't even try it, girl. You can spread them more than this." Mia breathed with exertion as, still pinned, she widened her stance one foot at a time. The panties - shoved midway down her thighs - stretched taut between, but the tight crevice that he had been fingering before was now an inviting opening. Leaning back he could see the gleam of her, the dark flush of her pussy lips and past that a hint of tangled pubic hair. He brought his hand easily between her spread thighs and, making a flat paddle with his fingers, started harshly, regularly spanking her wet cunt. He snapped his hand up from the wrist and she was shrieking after three taps. "Apologise," he said, but really he didn't want her to anymore. "St-stop! Ok, too... too much!" "Then apologise." She was good. She was begging him to stop, but her masochism was over-riding her submission. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to infuriate him or placate him, but it was her perverse side that was winning out so far. He dealt her two strong, open handed spanks, one to either cheek and heard a moan that was perfectly split between defeat and victory. This time when he put his fingers to her entrance, it was like her body almost sucked them in so wet and ready was she. And while her hot, wet walls squeezed his two middle fingers all the way, he sunk them into her right up to the knuckles with precious little resistance. He pumped them in and out of her and the chorus of slurps and sucking noises he elicited made Cadence giggle in delight. "Always getting yourself in over your head, arent' you Mi-Mi?" "Ca- Cadence! Tell him to stop!" "Tell him yourself." "He's no-o-o-o-ot listening!" Mia's voice shook as Charlie returned to spanking her wet pussy lips and the area around her clit. "Then apologise" Cadence explained, as if to a child. Charlie smirked, and waited to see what the buxom girl would say to that, but if she answered it was too low for Charlie to hear. He swatted her ass, which was positively glowing now, but her mewling cries weren't really doing it for him anymore. He was so fucking hard and she was so fucking wet. It wasn't rocket science where to go next. Mia was dazed, sore and turned on beyond belief, so she didn't notice as Charlie took a break from his onslaught to free his cock from the scarlet-specked crotch of his pants. He was barely pinning the girl anymore, having taken all pressure off her arm some time before, but she wasn't going anywhere. He released her arm altogether now, and instead put his hand in the small of her back. He moved directly behind her. He stroked his shaft. God he was hard. Pearls of pre-cum beaded the tip of his member, but the whole, purple head was already shining with it. He was a big guy, and had to widen his stance and lower his hips to aim his prick at its dripping wet target. She was holding her breath, he noticed. She knew what was coming and she wasn't complaining about it in the slightest. "No need to apologise anymore, Mia," he said, "I think this will make us even for now." His cock told him to quit fucking around and put it where it belonged. He couldn't ignore it any longer. She was so wet and he'd had his fingers in her, yet still, as his prick eased between her sensitive lips, she proved to be thrillingly tight deep down inside. He slid in, then rocked against her, encouraging her to yield to him - to take the full length of his thick shaft. She didn't need much encouragement, and in moments he was slowly, surely fucking her. She was lying with her face to the table-top, her hands moving uncertainly, fingers clenching into fists and reaching as if for something to hold onto. She was his, lost in the sensations his impaling prick was provoking in her. She moaned and sighed, soft and low now, no longer torn and tortured. She felt amazing; he felt as though her cunt were made to take his cock and he was in no rush to bring this to a head. He fucked her slowly, almost gently. No. She wasn't his. She was really, clearly on loan from Cadence. "Does she do this a lot?" He fucked from the hips and kept his movements slow and easy, but he addressed his comments to Cadence who was leaning back in her chair now, smoking her millionth cigarette of the day. Again his voice was thick - almost drunk with arousal - but he was clear and in control. "Does she often throw wine at people when she wants a good, thorough fucking?" "Whenever she thinks she can get away with it," Cadence murmured, watching as Charlie started putting a little more power into his thrusts. The crockery rattled, the table shook and he felt Mia's juices wetting his balls. "She's not a slave or anything," she informed him, "but she's got a submissive streak a mile wide." "Mmmmngh!" the subject of their conversation, seemed to be stifling her cries with the back of her wrist now. Charlie felt how slick and easy her hole was becoming and realised that he didn't need to hold back anymore. He took his hand from her back and grabbed her plump hips. He drove into her. He thrust hard and took her completely, feeling the tangle of her bush against his balls, brushing his own pubic hair. Her cunt clenched on him and again her cry was not quite despair, not quite delight. He almost lost it then, but froze and fought back the torrent of spunk threatening to burst from his throbbing piece. She was a wonderfully confused girl he realised, and for a dizzy second he could totally understand Cadey's life - why she chose to surround herself with this depraved, lost souls. Hell, he was envious of it! He got girls galore, and he had money and power, but he was never caught up in the kind of games that Cadey liked to play - where you were never quite sure who was fucking who. Jesus, what was he thinking? It was the cum bubbling in his balls that was addling his brain. Cadey was insufferable, and this girl was a mess. He should just enjoy this dynamite fuck, do Cadey next and forget all about it. He dragged his prick almost completely out of her and watched how the entrance to her distended, how her lips were pulled out, sucking on him, not wanting to let him go. Cadey had seemed almost thoughtful during his reverie, but suddenly she stood. "She does need teaching a lesson, though, really. Doesn't she?" "Yeah. I don't... hngh... think this is much punishment for her," Charlie chuckled. Who knew if Mia was even listening to them. Face down on the table, she seemed lost in her own world of cock. "Pull that fat prick out of her you brute." Cadence put her hand on his bicep and again he almost shot. Charlie wanted to tell her to forget it, he wasn't going to let her taunt him again, but he sensed that she wasn't doing it just to play with him anymore. Mia had her attention now, and he found that as much as he wanted to fill that heavenly hole with his thick cream, he was curious to see what she had in mind. Slowly, and with an uncontainable groan of frustration he pulled himself from her hungry slit. As he left her Mia slumped over the table, her knees bending and her cries tailing off into gasps and pants. "Get up Mi-Mi, let's go to the bathroom." Cadence instructed, and to Charlie's surprise the PA had the strength to stand and stumblingly follow the slim, perfect heiress almost immediately. He stroked himself, though the whole thing was hot enough that he barely needed anything to keep him hard. His hand became wet and slick with Mia's girl-cum. He took a moment before following them to kick off his underwear, slacks and socks, then he unbuttoned and opened his ruined shirt, though he kept it on. He didn't want to be the only one naked. When he got to the chalet's small but luxurious bathroom Mia's too-tight skirt was pooled on the floor and the plump girl was standing awkwardly in the bathtub. Cadence was perched on the lowered toilet seat cover, smoking and tapping her ash into the dregs of her wine. She was staring intently at the dark-haired Mia. Neither of them looked at Charlie in the doorway, but he took a minute to savour the image of Mia in her underwear, the black shadow of her bush visible through the front of her panties. He stroked and his prick bobbed eagerly. "Tits out," Cadence instructed, "Give poor Charlie something to look at while we're waiting." "Waiting for what?" Charlie asked, but Cadence held up a warning finger in answer. Mia looked almost miserable, what had he missed? She unbuttoned her blouse with shaking fingers, exposing a simple white bra. Then, reaching behind herself, she unclasped that and pulled it forwards off her large, succulent breasts. It was still on, still tangled up in her blouse, but she pulled it so that the cups were well away from her cleavage, and her big natural breasts hung heavily away from her chest now. Her nipples were dark and more than normally large. Charlie stroked and had to remind himself that this was just to hold him for now. He wanted to suck those sexy, pendulous breasts, he wanted to tit-fuck the girl. There was room for nothing in his brain but sex. "What are you waiting for?" Cadence arched her eyebrows at her PA, and the threat that seemed to always be lurking behind her teasing was suddenly clearly tangible. "What... what are we waiting for?" "Mia thinks she's a terribly dirty, naughty little slut, but she still has certain boundaries!" Cadence explained, as though the idea was ridiculous. "We're working on it though. I mean - she's still reluctant to wet herself on command for me. Can you believe it?" Wet herself? The manipulative millionaire wanted her PA to piss her panties in the bathtub for her? Charlie's heart lurched, and he thought his pulse might have skipped a beat. Cadence was a truly depraved little princess. Water sports had never been his thing and he really couldn't say that he really wanted to see Mia piss herself for their entertainment. But he was stroking still. Faster now, too. It wasn't the piss, the urine, that was getting to him. It was the humiliation that was painted across Mia's face as she wrestled with her princess's instructions. It was Cadence's devilishly perverted mind, and seeing her use it to torment someone else; that was what was turning him on so much. "Cadence please! Can't I just let Charlie fuck me again?" Charlie shrugged, that did sound fine to him. And now he'd seen those wonderful tits he'd want to play with them too. "I don't know how I can even continue to trust you as my right-hand if you won't do this for me." Cadence pursed her lips and looked down, tapping away more ash. "It's very disappointing. You have one more minute before I get cross. I gave you enough fucking wine, darling, it really shouldn't be a problem." Charlie started - she really had been filling that glass up over and over again. Had she been planning this all along? Mia sobbed, a strangled sound escaping from her throat and she hung her head as she had after she assaulted him with the wine. He couldn't see her face, but she seemed flushed with blood all the way to her chest. Her stance became even more awkward, one hand out against the wall supporting her, the other tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck, she spread her legs and squatted just a little, bending her knees. Charlie was holding his breath, and he could hear Mia doing the same - although her bursts of concentration were interrupted with desperate gasps as she gulped down air. Cadence was making no sound at all so it was very easy to hear when it started. A smooth, soft wet sound like some carefully pouring water down the side of a basin. But it was clear where this sound was coming from and as Mia gave a short "Ah!" (surprise, victory, defeat, relief - it was impossible to tell which) the crotch of her brilliant white panties started to darken rapidly. The curvaceous assistant's whole body was shaking as she let go and urinated, pissing her panties right there in front of them. For him? For Cadence? To prove a point? He thought about getting irritated at Cadence for having a girl piss in the bath he had to use, but he didn't feel like getting precious about things anymore. Fuck, Cadence had done it. She'd drawn him into her world and he didn't want to leave. It kept coming and coming, Mia's breathing faltering more and more as her torrent of piss continued. She soaked the crotch of her panties - the stain dark, not the vivid yellow he'd imagined at all - and still it came. It trickled from the sides down her thighs to her calves and it dripped from the sodden cloth right where her pussy was. Charlie watched the liquid start to collect in the bottom of the bath. There it took on the yellow hue he expected. Mia could have been looking at the same thing, or her eyes could have been closed. It was impossible to tell if she was satisfied, happy to be pleasing Cadence, or truly, horribly mortified by the experience. Good grief, the girl's bladder had been full! Her panties were past the point of sodden now and the inside of each leg was gleaming with her own waste liquid. Her knees were shaking terribly and still she pissed, still in the awkward half squat with one hand on the wall, one on her own neck. The soft wet sound had become a soundtrack, he didn't notice it until finally it slipped away. The flow of the thin yellow liquid had stopped and Mia shakily straightened her legs and stood up. "Oh Mi-Mi!" Cadence's voice sounded... almost warm. "I'm so proud, baby." "I... Thank you Cadence," the girl raised her head. Behind her tangled hair Charlie could see that she was biting her lip in determination. She had been forced to rise to a challenge and she had succeeded. "Holy shit, Cadey." Charlie whispered and in his tight fist his prick pulsed. Cadence looked at him and her smile was pure sin. "Now take your panties off, Mi-Mi," she said, looking at him, not her assistant. "Take them off, put them on Charlie here and pull them up over his big, hard cock. Stretch them over his firm tusch and over that throbbing purple helmet, then get down on your knees and suck him through your own filthy panties." "Ca-Cadence!?" Mia's hand went to her mouth, apparently this was going farther than even she was expecting. And as for Charlie - his heart stopped. He was sure it just stopped beating. Cadence was a virtuoso of the perverse. She'd spotted an opening, an opportunity to humiliate them both, to make them both her toys and she'd taken it. He shouldn't let this continue. He COULDN'T. But Mia was quickly over her shock, and was ready to continue having come this far. She wasn't looking at him, but she was gingerly dragging her heavy, stained underwear down off her hips and carefully stepping out of it. And in thinking that he should stop it, he realised that he wasn't stopping it. He wasn't telling Cadence to go fuck herself and walking out to beat it out in the living room; or taking Mia's hands, making her drop the panties then bending her over and resuming where he'd left off. He was standing there, frowning, and stroking his unbelievably hard cock as the buxom PA stepped out of the bath, dripping spots of urine on the pale tiles of the floor and stepped towards him.