0 comments/ 39619 views/ 2 favorites Delilah By: OddAngel Delilah watched as Lancaster faded out of view she did not realize she cared so much until she watched him go. Out of the door. Out of her life and now out of her mind... no not really out of her mind and certainly not out of her heart. She knew it was her fault he was gone, she had made a mistake a big one that hurt him badly, it all started in august the hottest month of the year in Indiana. She had gone shopping for a new central air unit but when she arrived at the store the salesman was not what she had expected. An ex-boy friend from college. One she still carried feelings for! When Gavin asked how she had been she reluctantly answered "oh all right I guess?" immediately after she said it she asked herself why? I am happily married to Lancaster Jones the most successful man around not to mention only the hottest man in the state; he was tall built to perfection long dark hair, and the most beautiful green eyes you've ever seen. And here she was setting herself up to cheat on him. Gavin had been "the one that got away" - he dumped her for a college cheerleader named Bambi Demarco it was crushing to Delilah but here was her chance to get back what she lost. Or better yet felt she failed at! Delilah was a very successful woman in her own right; she couldn't stand to lose at anything. She was medium height, small-framed and barely 110 pounds long red hair and big blue eyes with a temper to match the hair. So the chance to fix something she failed at years ago was overpowering her common sense at this point. Gavin spoke to her again and asked what he could do for her today she replied I need a new central air system it is so hot in my house I could melt ice on my soaking wet chest. He stepped back a bit and then smiled is that all you need Delilah or do I sense a need for something a bit more personal? Delilah blushed she looked away and played bashful. Gavin if you help me out with the new ac unit will you be the one to come over and install it? Yeah baby if that's what you want. That would be wonderful Delilah said it will give us a chance to talk about old times I'll see you there. As she sashayed out of the store she felt like a schoolgirl again, all excited at the possibilities for just one second she pulled her head out of the clouds and thought about what she was doing and her husband and their happy marriage. But the thought of Gavin back in her arms again over powered her common sense. Delilah knew the store would deliver the ac unit today. She spent most of the morning anticipating Gavin's arrival and getting ready for him as she did, she thought of how they were in college, how they were voted cutest couple, and how the sex was phenomenal her mind went back to a time they made love in the fountain by the library the cool rain beating down on her naked body as Gavin's warm body covered hers he thrust in and out of her with the power of a freight train, she had forgotten what that feeling was. The feeling of hot uncontrollable passion as she waited for Gavin to get there with the ac unit she reached down between her milky white thighs and started touching and feeling every inch of her swollen little clit. She was getting wetter and wetter still just before she reached orgasm the doorbell rang she hopped up from the chair she was in and threw herself together and answered the door. It was Gavin a full 2 hours earlier than expected. Hi she said your early, but I was just I mean, well I was just hanging out huh, come on in. Gavin stepped inside the door of her very nice house he had already driven around for an hour stroking his rock hard cock. And as Delilah glanced down she noticed exactly how hard he was his cock was poking out the top of his jeans which hugged his gorgeous body perfectly, as he noticed it he re- adjusted his jeans and said oh I'm sorry I guess you just have that effect on me so is it just me or were you wanting me to come over and fix more than just your ac unit? Delilah blushed looked Gavin straight in the eyes and said "I just want one more of those incredible fucks before you walk out the door and I never see you again my husband is at work he wont be home till this evening. So what do you say will you fuck me one last time the way I like it? Rough and sensual at the same time? Gavin looked at Delilah her hand was now in her panties stroking her clit till she almost got off right there in front of him he smiled and pulled his hard 12 in long 4 inch round cock out of his pants Delilah then walked over to him letting her robe drop on the floor she was now completely nude! Gavin continued to take off all of his clothes. They took a moment to look at each other and get aroused by the sight of each others naked body, Gavin moved in closer and plunged his tongue in Delilah's mouth from there he proceeded to kiss her so passionately she felt as though she would cum down her leg, Gavin must have sensed her excitement. Because he slipped a finger deep inside her pussy he furiously finger fucked her till she came all over his hand at this point it was too much for Gavin to hold back any longer he laid Delilah down on the kitchen floor he kissed her mouth and fingered her a little more to get her pussy wet and ready to take his erect bulging cock. He reached down and guided his enormous hard on to her wet pussy---- he pushes the head just inside the opening of her cunt, he tethers his huge cock back and forth a few times so when he's ready he can force it all the way in without hurting Delilah too bad, just then he apples force and his enormous cock slides all the way in her tight little pussy. Delilah digs her nails in Gavin's back. Gavin likes the nails and starts hitting it hard he flips her over and does her doggie style grabbing and clawing at her sides, he starts to thrust harder and harder until he slides it all the way up inside her and keeps pushing deeper as he releases his seed rich cum deep inside her pussy. Delilah was cumming at the same time she released her pussy juice all over his twitching cock both of them collapsed in a heap on the floor smiling but exhausted. Gavin Delilah said. Thank you that was amazing I haven't got off like that in years. But you had better go install my ac unit or my husband will wonder what we were doing all day! ha ha Gavin laughed yes ma'am I'll get straight to work, he gather up his clothes and walked out the door to start his job. As he walked out he said thank you baby you make me cum harder than anyone else I've ever been with. Delilah pulled herself together feeling better than she had in a long time. She took a shower and started working on a real estate deal she had up in the air she must have fallen asleep because the next thing that happened was Lancaster leaning over to kiss her. He said did you have a good day today sweetheart? She said oh yes very good indeed. Lancaster asked did the ac unit come today? Yes dear they installed it this morning. As she noticed a tear in her husband's eye's he said that's not all he installed now is it? Delilah knew he knew what happened somehow, she asked how did you I mean how do you know? Lancaster was packing his things. He turned to her and said do you remember when you called me at work this morning? Yes said Delilah well you never got the phone all the way back on the hook I sat at work today and heard another man make my wife cum like I've never been able to. I can't even look at you, Delilah how could you have done this to me. To us and with that he threw his stuff in the car and drove out of my life I'm gonna miss him but now I have all the time in the world to let Gavin make me cum. Delilah There were no longer any secrets. Her belly was so round, the skin so taut; there was no question that in several days she would become a mother at the sweet age of 20. Complaining that she couldn't sleep, she often drifted off in the middle of the day when watching TV, listening to a conversation. Everything about her cried out white dream. She was a white wave of silk, over-ripe, and succulent. Ever the more desirable because of her condition, mystery or not, we adored her. A year ago she wouldn't have been happy to sleep in the sun or feel our hands on her warm body. A year ago she would have laughed at us if we had suggested binding, spanking, and needlecraft. A year ago she would have said no. Now, she belonged to us, she was ours, and the only time she raised her voice was when she came, her mouth open, stretched into a perfect, red circle, almost like agony. We didn't know who had fathered the baby. Nine months ago there had been so many tutors in her education. Spread eagle, tied to the four posters of the bed, a gag in her mouth, her lovely blue eyes bulging in horror as we held parties in her honor. The men would disrobe and stand around the bed, hands on her breasts, hands on her thighs, as one at a time, they crawled on top of her, entered her, surprising her each time as they really slid their rock solid cocks up inside her and left her full, running with their streams of cum. We were teaching her humility. We were washing the arrogance from those blue eyes and her upturned nose. Pretty little rich girl no more. In the process she became pregnant. We speculated often, sitting around the table, pulled up to the bar. What if it was one of the homeless men we paid to come up and defile our angel? How many men had filled her tiny cunt with their seed? Was it one of us? Conrad and I already had children, wives...what would we do with this child? The options were simple when the child belonged to some stranger or friend who'd sweated on top of her during those months. We'd even let the building custodian, three hundred pounds, smother her with his flesh. The revolving bedroom door...but then we discovered another way to break down her defenses, putting her on top of the pool table, dangling her legs down so that her feet didn't touch the floor, sliding in and out of her back door. Now she was a good little girl. She never failed to please Conrad and I. We bound her less, and fulfilled her more. Conrad liked to bathe her, wash her hair, carry her in his arms from one room to the next, and bury his face between her legs. I was more of the craftsman, always having had an interest in needlecraft, I was the one to gently gag her, tie her hands behind her back, and decorate her nipples with needles. I loved the way the steel glided into her flesh after the initial difficult push. The pink skin of her flesh almost popping as it resisted the prick. In the beginning, I would slide two into each nipple, making a perfect cross. She would squirm; raise her hips as the needles went in and then out of her skin. Quiet little lamb, moaning around the ball that fit nicely in her mouth under her gag. Later, Conrad would pull the needles out, washing the tiny trails of inconsequential blood. I soon became more creative, surrounded the nipple with a flower of needles, twelve, then thirty, until I had soon impaled her entire breasts with needles. I took her from behind, my hands gripping each breast as I did, letting my whole body rest upon her back so that she had to push back against me, pushing her breasts into my hands. Did I know that it hurt? Of course...that was part of the exercise. As my cock slid back and forth in her wet cunt, the fact that she responded to me, that she let the pain course through her body along with my cock, taught both of us a lesson. I knew that she loved me. I knew that she would do anything for me. In return, I was giving her the greatest pleasure she had ever known, the sweet tingling of pleasure and pain. Even Conrad, the nurturer, took her doggy style that day, his hands squeezing her pin-filled breasts. It was exquisite, one of our fondest moments. I graduated, of course, to skewers—which I had seen in photographs. We tied her wrists above her head and hoisted her off the ground so that just the tips of her toes touched the ground. When I produced the first skewer, there was terror in her eyes, which I put to rest with a reassuring tone, nothing a seductive, "Good Girl" wouldn't solve. I slid the first skewer through her left breast—going horizontally through her breast. Then matched it with a vertical cousin. I did this to both breasts before performing my coup de grace—the fish hook. I took the fish hook and pushed the end of it into the edge of her areola, just at the edge of her nipple. I pushed it deep inside, turning it as I did, so that finally the tip of the hook appeared, emerging from her nipple. Her body became so rigid as I pushed the hook through, the point of the hook coming through the nipple. What a lovely sight she was, her eyes closed, completely submissive. We used a vibrator that time, brought her to orgasm at least ten times as she hung there, hooked, skewered, beautiful. Our lovely little fish. So uncomplicated and brave. Then she began to swell—at first we admonished her for eating too much and began to withhold some of her food. Still she swelled, until finally, she confessed in a fit of despair that she thought she was pregnant. We liked to think that we were all she needed. We were intelligent. We added vitamins to her diet, fed her well, and watched her belly grow. We wondered at first why we hadn't thought of this, then decided that we had been so overcome with our desire of our perfect beauty, that we hadn't thought something as mundane as a pregnancy would ever spoil her. Now that she was pregnant, close to the end, her body had done some delightful things. The first was the milk her breasts produced, which we took turns drinking. In the beginning it was a clear, sweet liquid that we would have her express. Soon after we began to lie in the bed, each of us at a breast, as she fed us. Suckling on her long, hard nipples, her precious milk flowing into our bellies, our fingers stroking between her thighs, we spent hours in bed. I wondered vaguely if we'd be able to share her milk with this baby that we still didn't know if we'd keep. A baby would complicate things. Another delectable side effect of her pregnancy was her lips...her vaginal lips began to swell...and she was always wet. I practiced the art of needlecraft on those plump lips, putting a skewer successfully through one lip and then the other. Later, I fucked her, skewer in tact...and loved the way she cried out. Pain and pleasure. Each make the other so sweet. We were not always quite so sweet, for there times when we invited homeless men to defile our Lady Madonna. Watching them paw at her clean, white body, leaving their seed deep within her, made her appreciate those moments when we held her in our arms, as a lover. Now the baby moved most of the time, and one of them didn't want to enter her. Nothing a few twenties wouldn't cure. Lying on her back, her legs over my shoulders, I waited eagerly for her labor. We had decided to try a home birth—so that Conrad and I could experience her pain, help her through it, in ways a hospital wouldn't understand. We knew that there may come a moment when all bets would be off and we'd have to send her on her way to the nearest hospital, and we packed a small suitcase in case. I stroked her fat, swollen lips, letting my finger linger on her clitoris. Conrad suckled from her breast, his head obscured by her round belly. I pushed a large dildo into her vagina, choosing the eight inch for this exercise. I slid it deep, to the hilt, and then left it there as I decorated her bottom with needles. We turned her over on her stomach and used ping pong paddles to spank her needled derriere. Three days later she went into labor, the muscles across her pregnant belly contracting in rhythm. We made love to her—no needles, no paddles or whips, no bondage, as she struggled through the pain. We slid a vibrator against her clit, making her come, making her cry out in ecstasy between the cries of pain. When the contractions grew so intense that her eyes would roll into the back of her head with each clench—we tried needlework, but it was to no avail, and we promptly called a cab for our Lady. We pressed three hundred dollar bills into her palm, hoping she would return to us...although we'd decided that the baby would be better off somewhere else. If Conrad and I were honest, we knew that we'd be better off if she came back, empty armed and open hearted. We were both smart enough to know that she might not come back at all. We waited 2 weeks and a half, spending time with our wives, our children, being respectable members of society, getting more work done than usual. I wondered where I was going to find another girl like her, a girl who would let me plant the seeds of domination, who would give up everything for me. If she returned with the baby, then I would know that I had failed—if she came without the child, then I would know that I had won. That she truly belonged to me. It was a Tuesday. Conrad had driven by the apartment where we kept her and reported a light was on. He was afraid of entering the apartment without me. I supposed by then he loved her—not just as an idea or a thing, but as a woman. This would cause problems for the three of us, so I told Conrad to wait, that we'd meet the next day and approach her together. Once I had placated Conrad, I gave my wife an excuse about work, and drove quickly to the apartment to look for my garden girl. She answered the door wearing a white robe and I could tell that there was nothing beneath it. She looked swollen still, her body round, and I could detect the curves of a belly under the cloth. I stepped inside and said nothing, just gazed down at her, waiting for her to report the direction her destiny had taken. Finally she stuttered, "I'm back, Master." With these words she fell to her knees, and looked down at the ground. "And your child?" "I left him with my mother, Master." A son. A son she'd left with her mother who lived fifty miles north. I wanted to know more, what the child looked like, could it be mine, did she plan to ask for money. Instead, I told her to remove the robe, and then I tied her, spread eagle, to her four poster bed. I lay on top of her for a long time, kissing her face, before sliding my cock into her cunt. She grimaced as my cock found its way inside, but she did not tell me to stop. I let my cock rest inside her, let her feel it there, let it replace the child. Then I spoke, my voice grave, my voice serious. "I'm moving you tonight. I'm moving you where your mother won't find you. Where you will be mine. Conrad doesn't want you anymore. You've bored him, angered him by having a child. You're mine now." I finished, my cum shooting from my body hard and hot, filling her up. I waited for her to pack, then drove her to an apartment nearer my house, a beautiful modern apartment, all white walls and glass. No phone, of course, and only I could open the doors that were fitted with dead bolts. Someday those locks would be unnecessary. I had her take a bath and lie across the queen sized bed that I'd bought her. I lay next to her, my lips on her breast, and I took the nipple into my mouth and began to suckle. She groaned. "Does that feel good?" I asked her. "Oh, yes, Master," she replied. I drank more, knowing that as long as I drank from her, she would always be full of milk. How sweet and warm it tasted. I rose up on my arm and pinched the nipple between my pointer and thumb, pulling it upward, stretching it as I slid a needle completely through the base of the nipple. I let go of the nipple, then pressed my lips to the bright pink bud and began to suckle...the milk flowing from her body, over the steel of the needle, and into my throat. Delilah A cloud of dust kicked into the humid August air as Avery Prince's weathered Ford truck pulled into the pebble driveway of the Parish Estate. Grimacing in the face of the heat, Avery pushed a swath of unruly hair from his bead coated brow before shutting off the engine and opening the door. Air conditioning or not, he had managed to sweat through his shirt during the short drive out of the city. Traffic heading out of Brooklyn had been horrendous and as much as he loved metropolitan life he was relieved to have a short vacation upstate before the school year began anew. One of the few benefits of teaching for a living was having summers off, and with a new wave of students coming within a matter of weeks, Avery was looking forward to riding out the remainder of his vacation in peaceful, quiet Westchester. He had just arrived at the home of Evelyn and Richard Parish, his aunt and uncle. A wildly successful 90's web entrepreneur, Richard bought the colonial mansion in New York while Avery was just finishing high school in nearby Orange County. While attending college at Colombia, Richard and Evelyn would frequently invite their bright young nephew to spend weekends and holidays at the estate. Since those years Avery had landed a teaching position at the prestigious Stuyvesant high school, a remarkable achievement at the young age of 29. Unfortunately the job afforded little time for Avery to maintain a social life throughout the annual curriculum, and after the end of a rather involved relationship earlier that year he had become a bit of a recluse. Over the summer he had tried to get back on the horse, but years of a stable relationship had dulled his hunger for the dating scene and his success had been spotty at best. Sticky with sweat, Avery reached across the console and grabbed the duffel bag of his belongings. Armed with a stack of fresh literature, a quality bottle of scotch and a blank agenda, the next five days looked to be a welcome reprieve from the droll of administrative side work and equally soul- sucking filing job he juggled when the school year wasn't in session. He slammed the car door behind him and happily greeted one of the estate staff, Bradley, who took the bag and accompanied him to the main entrance of the mansion. "Well, look who it is, Prince Avery himself," Evelyn chided with a wide grin, rushing across the vast and well- lit great hall. She threw her arms around him in embrace, curls of her reddish blonde hair bouncing about. Evelyn was a handsome woman in her 50s, who carried herself elegantly with bright red hair and a rather tall, trim figure; thanks no doubt to countless hours spent daily practicing yoga and other fitness- oriented yuppie pursuits. Incredibly down to earth and personable, she had always been Avery's favorite relative. "It's been entirely too long since your well- educated little butt has been stomping around this joint! Let me get a good look at you," she gushed, appraising his build. "Well it looks like sitting around on your ass all day hasn't affected you negatively at all! The city girls must love you..." He was in solid shape, with regular basketball games with friends helping him maintain a fit body. Avery had always been a handsome fellow, just short of six feet with a slender, athletic figure and dark brown hair. Avery blushed, grinned sheepishly and looked at his feet. 'The sensitive type,' he never quite lived up to the alpha male lothario his father had been before meeting Avery's mother. He was a nice boy who liked nice girls, and was happy to continue his quaint little romantic existence. "Thanks Aunt Evelyn. It's nice to be back at the palace, I could definitely use a break from the city before school starts back up. Are you headed out?" Evelyn was dressed in summer attire; an elegantly sexy but not too revealing dress of light colors, a clutch under her arm, keys and a file folder in hand. "Only for a minute, babe -- I've got to run a few errands, see some friends about a gala we'll be hosting in a few days. Clara's preparing a nice dinner for us tonight, you remember her, right?" Clara was the head of staff and private chef of the estate, a kind woman whom Avery fondly remembered. "I hope you don't mind but I had Bradley set you up in the nautical room, in the far- west wing. I know you usually stay in the sporting room but we've got another guest staying with us, a darling brit named Delilah. Your uncle's hosting her as a favor to an old tech buddy of his from jolly 'ol. She's a sweet 'lil thing, and gorgeous to boot -- though I'm sure you'll find out for yourself soon enough." She flashed a slightly mischievous, confusing smirk to Avery. "And stay out of trouble, boy- she's fresh out of high school, just graduated..." "Anyway, I'm off -- sorry my welcome was so brief; dinner is at seven, we'll have plenty of time to catch up then." She planted a quick kiss on Avery's cheek and rushed out the door. Avery chuckled to himself; he had always admired his Aunt's ability to maintain traces of that laid back California- girl vibe while whole- heartedly adopting the persona of the outrageously wealthy upstate yuppie queen. Avery looked to Bradley and shrugged, "Well, I guess it's off to the nautical room..." and they were off, navigating the expansive and lux corridors of the estate. Uncle Richard and Aunt Evelyn had a peculiar taste, the artwork ranging from baroque classics to modern abstraction, none of it clashing or out of place, just...eclectic in composition. After what felt like two city blocks worth of walking, the two finally arrived at the open doors of the nautical room, the early afternoon sun blazing beams across patterns of khaki and navy. "Here we are, young Avery. We thought you might be hungry after your drive, so Madame Evelyn had Clara prepare an afternoon tea," said Bradley in a thick English accent as he placed the duffel bag gently upon a loveseat, then gestured to an extravagant platter arranged on a nearby table. "As your aunt mentioned dinner will be served at seven o'clock. I believe a few guests shall be arriving half an hour beforehand, and if you wish to join them for an aperitif they will be in the Colombian lounge. I trust you will not shy from asking should you need anything, Master Avery. Farewell." He bowed and exited the room, shutting the door before Avery had a chance to thank him. Famished, Avery went about smashing several tiny finger sandwiches together to form a substantial mouthful, at which point he shoved the amalgam of bread, cold cuts and spreads into his face. He'd forgotten just how ridiculous the traffic could be coming out of the city on a day like this and hadn't eaten anything in the morning before driving. "Delicious," he muttered to himself while gnashing teeth. He walked across the room, grabbed his duffel bag and dumped its contents onto the bed: a couple of novels, a bottle of single malt, some toiletries stuffed into a Ziploc bag, a phone charger, a worn out pair of flip flops and a messy pile of clothes. He unbuttoned his soggy oxford shirt and dropped his shorts, pulled on a [semi] clean tank top and a pair of swim trunks. A few more canapes down the hatch with a sip of bitter lukewarm tea completed his hurried lunch. Avery grabbed a pair of wayfarer shades and his first novel of choice and left the room to find the pool which was...somewhere. He started walking. He didn't remember this place being so large. Then again he never remembered visiting "the Nautical Room" either. Seems auntie and uncle Parish have taken this whole aristocrat thing as far as it can go...he turned the corner of what seemed like the same series of corridors he'd been navigating for a good twenty minutes. Finally he came to two large French doors that opened upon a wide courtyard garden housing an ornate stone fountain surrounded by Roman- style columns. Now this, this looked familiar. He trotted lazily across the courtyard, the sunglasses protecting his gaze from the brutal summer sun. Happily greeting some of the estate staff that he remembered from his past visits, Avery set his sights on the swimming pool several yards away. Cross the tennis courts and past the greenhouse he finally stepped foot upon the deck, a broad patio of sculpted concrete with a waterfall constructed of massive lava stones in the distance. Gushing water flowed through the rocks, splashing into the gorgeously designed variable depth swimming pool; the type of setup normal folks enviously gawk at in their monthly issues of architectural digest. Avery wandered down a row of day beds and recliners, admiring the impeccable taste of his hosts. Wait a second. Pausing, his head cocked to the side slightly as stood there, baking in the sun, staring at a bikini top. It lay amongst a few other belongings: a bottle of sunblock, a discarded pair of sunglasses, an artsy magazine, a purse... He shrugged. She must've run back to her room all wrapped up to grab something. All he needed now was a towel and one of those ice cold beers he knew his uncle would have in the pool house. Flip flops slapping on the stones, Avery sauntered over to a chaise recliner and pulled the tank top off his chest, dropping it on the cushion with his book. Avery was not prepared for what followed. His jaw went slack. He began to salivate. The front of his pants tightened. He stood before beveled glass French doors which opened into the main foyer of the pool house. Staring. It was Delilah, that girl that Aunt Evelyn was talking about. And she was naked. Half- opened blinds and a row of skylights broke up the natural lighting of the room, scattered beams of hot summer sun cast upon the relatively shady foyer. The room was wide and open with high ceilings, the floor in warm colored Tuscan tiles with a matching design for the cabinetry and furnishings throughout. Along the back wall was a large open kitchen/bar, as well as shelving lined with all manner of amenities for would- be guests, including the towels Avery needed to get to. But he had completely forgotten about that. His new focus was on the sectional couch in the center of the room. Or rather, his focus was what was upon the couch. Her skin was tan but creamy, exhibiting a healthy, luxurious sheen in the lines of sunlight with which her body was illuminated. Taut muscle tone framed her elegant build, muscle and tendon rising and falling with grace as she writhed on the couch. She was perched on her knees, jutting the voluptuous curves of her ass upward, directly in Avery's line of sight, her bikini bottoms tugged roughly past the knees. Perfect little manicured toes wiggled as she stretched and relaxed her feet and ankles, almost involuntarily. A head of silken black hair stirred as she nuzzled her face in the couch cushions, the edge of her chin barely visible beneath flowing locks as she clenched the corner of a pillow with her teeth, a sultry and guttural groan escaping her throat. Avery was frozen in his tracks. He had yet to experience such voyeuristic delights. His eyes widened with hunger, fear, lust. She was nubile. Gorgeous. Immaculate. A million images of former students flashed through his mind, a perverse sense of alarm burning through him as he watched helplessly. This girl was young. He taught girls as young for a living. This was wrong. Summing every ounce of willpower in his grasp, he tore his eyes away from the scene and tried to look at the floor. His erection was in the way. Even through the doors of the pool house Avery could hear the intensity of her arousal, the heavy breathing, gasps for air. Her stifled cries of agony, her moans of pleasure. The audible squish of her hand made Avery twitch as he watched her squeeze tenderly upon the slightly engorged, glisteningly slick lips of her pussy. Delilah pulled her fingers away, a string of viscous secretion catching a glint of reflection in the sunlight. Releasing the pillow from the grit of her teeth, she drew the fingers deep into her mouth and groaned again, breathing deep through her nose to savor the essence of her throbbing cunt. The fingers promptly returned to their rightful place. Elbow pointed outward, Delilah squeezed a breast with her left hand, gently kneading supple flesh. Fingertips brushed lightly across her nipples to yield a shudder. She then arched and pulled her head up, releasing her breast to coat her middle finger with saliva. Reaching back, she directed the freshly moistened hand to her rear, pulling aside a cheek of her ass for better access. The pad of her digit pressed lightly upon the soft pucker of her asshole, its pursed pink flesh winking with excitement towards a most welcome intruder. The rubbing of Delilah's right hand intensified in pace, fingers squeezing upon the bud of her clit. She buried her head in the pillows and moaned, loud, as the middle finger of her left hand made its descent, easing two knuckles deep into her ass. Delilah was panting in earnest, and Avery could almost trace the tremors of an intense orgasm quaking through her limbs. A violent shaking radiated from her thighs, delicate flesh rippling from the epicenter of her crotch. She let out a long cry of ecstasy, its tone becoming coarse and gravelly as the waves of pleasure pulsed throughout. Unleashing the throes of climax, her breathing became erratic and her body screamed with sensation. Finally she calmed, involuntary twitches working themselves out of her extremities, satisfied breathless moans escaping her lips. Slowly the sounds of splashing water jerked Avery from his trance and he realized that he'd been tugging on himself like a teenager, hard, his hand thrust awkwardly down the front of his swim trunks. Stopping abruptly, a gasp escaped Avery's parched lips as he noticed the girl stirring from her orgasm induced stupor. He scrambled and yanked his hand from his groin, the fabric snapping outward as his firm hard- on whipped straight into position. Turning, he ran away from the windows of the house just as Delilah rose from her huddled position on the couch, her tongue lazily cleaning evidence from her salacious fingertips. Unseen to the fleeing teacher, a knowing grin curled across Delilah's lips at the sounds of feet slapping across the patio. This vacation was becoming ever more delightful with each passing day. Delilah flipped onto her butt and leaned forward, snatching her bikini bottoms off the cool tile floor. With a deviant grin she swept her legs through them and pulled the fabric tight against the flushed, swollen mound of her pussy. She planted her feet on the floor and stood, and then eased the suit taut against her ass. Wiggling her hips, she positioned the strappy garment across her waist and exited the pool house, barely acknowledging the startled young man trying to act casual as she strode, topless, across the pool deck. Avery was petrified with fear, a spot of fluid spreading from the turgid projection that tented his swim trunks. There was no way this would go unnoticed. He gawked helplessly as Delilah traipsed across toward the row of day beds where her belongings sat, the spring of her step quaking the pert orbs of her chest. Agonizing twitches of sensation pulsed along Avery's cock in time with the bounce of her rosy nipples, prompting him to fold his legs. Delilah stopped directly in front of Avery, whose efforts had clearly been in vain. Her gaze, initially locked with Avery's, turned ravenous as she lowered her eyes, surveying his torso, eventually settling upon his bulging crotch. The corners of her lip curled into a devilish grin and she bit down on her lower lip. "Hello, handsome," She quipped, resuming eye contact with a silent Avery. Her speech was well articulated in an elegant British accent, her voice tone strong yet delicate. "I'm Delilah, pleased to meet you. Your aunt Evelyn said you'd be visiting the manor for some time." "Hmuck...ha... Hi." Avery stammered. His rapport with the girls usually wasn't so horrible. Now, this was all he could manage. "Um...it's nice to meet you?" "Mmm. Indeed. I wish we had more time to be acquainted, but I must be off for a bit. I've loads of errands to take care of before dinner. But I'll see you in the dining room, yeah?" She grinned, her stunning smile reviving the stiffness of crotch Avery had hoped relieved. Delilah then leaned in abruptly, her right hand coming to rest upon Avery's prick, her slender fingers grasping its length. Her lips parted as she brought her cheek against the side of his head, whispering in his ear, "Perhaps afterwards, we can find a way to sort this out as well..." And with that she stood, releasing his cock. Delilah walked to the recliner a few spots adjacent to Avery and grabbed her things, then returned to the mansion. Delilah "Lila?" Delilah froze. She knew it was him, she'd recognize his voice anywhere. It sent shivers down her spine. It had to be done. She had to face him sooner or later, after all it had been well over a month. She shakily spun round, her stilettos screeching on the tiled floor. He hadn't changed at all. His dark hair was pushed back exposing his murky blue eyes, his rosy lips spread into a gentle smile. Delilah turned away and began walking back toward the exit, determined to walk away this time. Tears began to sting at the corner of her dark brown eyes. She had to get out of the club. Now. She felt his hand thrust into hers, his breath on her neck, his chest pressed against her back, the words 'Lila, please' breathed in her ear. She broke free of his grasp. " 'Lila please'?!! Thats all you have to say?! Jesus Christ, you can't do that to someone, convince them that they're your world, convince them that you love them more than anything, and then just leave out of the blue, without a second thought of the wreck you've left behind, and then just appear with a 'Lila please'!!" The rage was flowing fast and free now "You have some nerve you piece of shit. And, for the last fucking time, stop calling me Lila!" She turned back round, ready to march out with the adrenaline running through her veins, and tears running down her cheeks. "Please baby-" He whispered into her neck, clutching at her hand again. She reluctantly shook him off a second time. "Criss, let me go. Please, don't do this-" Her breath caught in her throat "I can't do this. Please, just let me go." "No" his voice was soft in her ear. "I'm not leaving you again baby." He gently dragged her away from the crowds, towards the empty hallway off the dance floor. Delilah willingly let herself follow, ignoring the surge of emotions racking up inside her. He pushed her back against the marbled wall with tender force. He tucked his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look upwards at him. Criss meekly pressed his lips against hers. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. He ran a hand through her soft brown curls, reminding himself of their familiar feeling. Her brown eyes seemed much darker, staring back at him with a yearning look. Delilah quickly pressed her mouth against his, stinging from the lost contact. The pressure of her mouth on his increased as she dragged her nails up his back. His hands cupped round her cheeks pulling her harder into him. He couldn't get close enough. Delilah ran her fingers through his dark hair, tugging it as he pried open her lips with his tongue. She arched her body forward, aching for the feel of him. Criss roughly responded, grinding his straining erection against her pelvis. She moaned into his mouth as the friction between his jeans and her jersey dress increased. He broke away from the feverish kiss, trailing his tongue down her neck, softly grating his teeth along the spot he knew made her melt. Delilah threw her head back, exposing more of her neck, letting him sink his teeth into her pale skin. A whimper escaped her lips when Criss sucked a love bite into place. His hands moved away from her face and began roaming down her thighs, his bitten nails creating a delicious sensation on the interior sensitive skin as his mouth caressed her earlobe. His hands traveled upwards, toying with the buttons on her dress. Delilah gasped loudly had his hand found its way inside her dress, his thumb running over the flimsy material covering her hard nipples. Criss' other hand returned to her thighs, deeply flushed and burning hot. Still running his thumb over her jagged nipples, his remaining hand found itself edging closer to her hot cunt, pulsing with anticipation. He ran his finger over the soaking material covering her pussy as Delilah groaned above the thumping bass, digging her crimson nails into his shoulder. Criss pulled his hand free from her bra and used both hands to slide her soaking lace panties to the floor. She kicked them off with a flick of a heeled foot as his hand nestled back into her pussy. He pushed his hand through the wetness, dragging his forefinger across her clit. Delilah let out a sharp moan and smashed her lips back against his, letting her tongue roam the familiar interior. Criss continued rubbing his fingers through her pussy, two sliding back and forth with his thumb circling her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He pulled away from her mouth, and locked his eyes on hers. Her eyelids were fluttering and her breath was sharp and ragged. He flicked his finger over her clit one last time before removing his hand. He wasn't going to let her come just yet. He stared into her dark brown eyes with a familiar look of yearning on his face. Delilah understood. She grasped at his belt buckle, hastily threading the leather through the loop before reaching for his zipper. She undid it quickly, eager to have the feel of Criss' cock back in her hand. She slid her hand into his boxers with ease, grazing her hand up his already hard shaft. It was his turn to moan now, as his head tilted back on his shoulder and a low groan escaped his throat. She ran her finger over the sensitive spot on the underside of his shaft, dragging it up over the head. She pulled her finger over the slit. This hit his spot, as he buried his face in her shoulder, making it vibrate from the moans escaping his lips. Without warning, Criss abruptly grabbed Delilah's wrist, and pinned it above her head. "Not yet baby", he whispered into her neck, "not yet." He let go of her wrist and positioned his hands around her waist, picking her up into his arms. She quickly responded by draping her arms around his neck, tightly wrapping her legs around his waist and firmly pressing her back against the wall behind her. Criss fumbled with his jeans, awkwardly edging them down until his throbbing cock sprang free. Delilah hitched her dress up further, until the rose tattoo below her navel was exposed. He positioned his cock at her hot entrance, and once again buried his face into her neck as it slid in. Delilah gasped loudly. She had forgotten just how big he was. "Ohhh Goddd" Criss groaned into her neck, as he began to thrust his hips into her. Delilah found her fingers running through his hair again, tugging more roughly now with each thrust he made. She pulled him away from her neck, dragging his lips to hers. His tongue flicked over her lips causing her to shudder. Delilah swiftly broke away from his mouth, as Criss hit her g-spot. "Oh Goddd...don't stop baby, please don't stop... OhmyGoddd righhht there...don't fucking stop...harder.. harderr" Delilah's words came in a feverish mess. "You like it there baby?" Criss whispered through his gritted teeth as he thrust harder, his cock grazing against that spot that made her scream. The hot wetness of her pussy began pushing him over the edge. He could feel his balls beginning to tighten, but forced himself to hold on just that little bit longer. He continued grating his dick inside her. With one deep final thrust, she exploded, gasping his name over and over again. He watched in awe as her face contorted into reams of pleasure. Seeing Delilah in such ecstasy all due to him, pushed Criss over the edge, and he came deep into her pussy, grunting incoherently into her neck. Criss kept his face in her neck for some time, breathing in her scent. He finally pulled away and let his forehead rest against hers as both of their pulses returned to normal. Delilah stared into his blue eyes, accepting the surge of emotions that were going to hit her as soon as he left. She wondered what the hell she was going to do now.