0 comments/ 9203 views/ 1 favorites The Castle By: Sillyguy4fungal My lover, Bill, and I are successful and very busy people who often forget how important it is to get down to the basics and just love each other emotionally and physically. But in late August of last year my lover did something I never expected. He created a magical weekend that most women only dream about. He had been in Europe on Military business for over two weeks when he called to tell me that he would have to stay there a little longer. I tried not to be upset, knowing that he had no other choice, but when we hung up he knew I was not pleased. The next day, while at the office, my lover’s assistant delivered a bouquet of wild flowers and sealed manila envelope. In the envelope was an airline ticket to Italy where we would spend a long weekend together. I called him at his hotel and warned him that if this was going to be a weekend of me sitting in a hotel room in Rome while he was in meetings, he could forget it, but he assured me that it would be wonderful. Arriving in Italy, I was highly impressed by the Rolls my lover had waiting for me. The driver helped me in. “Sir Bill eagerly awaits your arrival, my lady,” he said in a thick Italian accent. As we left Rome, I started to ask the driver questions about our destination, but he would reveal nothing. My curiosity was killing me as we climbed high hills into a heavily wooded area. The trip was long and I eventually grew tired and fell asleep. I awoke to the sound of the driver calling me: “Signora! Andiamo! We have arrived.” I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the sleepiness and see where I was. There in front of me was the most magnificent building I’d ever seen, a giant medieval castle. I was in awe, feeling so tiny beneath its shadow, and I turned around to watch the iron gates close behind us. One of the several people waiting outside the castle stepped forward and kissed me once on each cheek. Her name was Rose and she welcomed me, assuring me that Sir Bill would be back later. In the meantime, she would show me to my room where I could freshen up and change before dinner. I think I was still in shock as I walked through the large doors into the castle. The floors were oak parquet and the ceilings were high. As we walked through the rooms, I wondered where it would end. Was this castle being rented out as a hotel? Did we have one room? “Feel free to explore all of the rooms,” Rose said, as if reading my thoughts. She then led me up two flights of stairs. She was out of breath when we reached a door, which like the others had a Renaissance arch, and she opened it for me. It was the bathroom, and it was as big as our entire bedroom at home! In the middle of the room was a giant tub made out of the same marble used for the floor. Rose pointed out where everything was and then turned on the tub. She picked up a bottle of bubble bath and I was just about to stop her when she paused and smiled, saying “Whoops, I almost forgot. Sir Bill said you prefer your baths really hot without the bubbles.” I smiled, happy that he still remembered the small details. As the bathtub filled, Rose opened another door that went directly into the bedroom.. She opened the shuttered windows and I got an even better view of my surroundings. The furniture was dark wood, which had gently aged over the hundreds of years. I slipped off my shoes and let my toes be tickled by the bear rug alongside the king size four poster covered by white netting. I peeked in and gleaned the satin sheets and velvet blanket. I felt like a princess. Rose whispered for me to take my time, then said, “Dinner will not be for at least an hour and a half. There is a robe hanging behind the door and I will lay your clothes out on the bed.” I took off my clothes, letting them fall in a heap at my feet, then tied my hair in a bun. As I lowered myself into the water, my muscles immediately began to relax, the tension just lifting away as I picked up a washcloth and submerged it in the water before running it over a bar of soap. I started behind my neck , the excess water dripping down my shoulders and back as I ran the cloth over my flesh. I pleasured myself, gently making circles around my full breasts and down my belly. The washcloth disappeared under the water again and found my pussy. I basked in the glory of all that was around me: the stack of fluffy towels by the side of the tub, the cage housing two birds in the opposite corner of the room, the sound of the washcloth lifting out of the surface and spilling water back onto my relaxed body. At that moment, I hadn’t a care in the world and I enjoyed my half-dazed, half-aroused state until the water began to cool and it was time to get out. In my robe, I sat at the vanity to brush out my hair. It seemed I would not have to go into my suitcase for anything. I did my hair in long, soft curls, just the way Bill Likes it, and then went to the bed to see what I was to wear. There was a note from Bill. He hoped I liked the dress he had bought for me in a little town not too far from the castle. It was wine-colored and fit tight around my chest, pushing my bosom together and up. It had a waist girdle that tied tight down the middle. The sleeves were long and hung like giant bells and the bottom of the gown was free flowing. It fit perfectly and I stared in amazement at my reflection in the silver framed mirror. A short while later, a butler was sent upstairs to guide me to the dining room. I was relieved because I had no idea where it was. I was announced as I entered the room and that was when I got my first glance at Bill. Though he looked incredibly handsome, I almost giggled at the sight of him. He had really gone all out, trading in his suit for a white shirt, leather jerkin, baggy pants and knee boots. He rose from his seat and bowed, pointing to the seat that the butler was holding out for me. We ate our dinner, at opposite sides of the table, served to us by wonderful servants wearing white gloves. Throughout the meal, we made love with our eyes over and over again. My flesh burned and I knew that his cock was throbbing. After dinner, he offered me his arm and led me through the castle to the high tower. It was a bit windy up there, but in the darkness we danced by lantern and moonlight, a violinist playing a soft melody. I whispered a thank-you in his ear and in response got a passionate “you’re welcome” kiss. The violinist’s music grew more passionate and Bill suggested we make our way to our quarters. We went a different way than Rose had led me earlier, actually exiting the castle and walking through an enchanting garden. Our path was guided by gas lanterns, illuminating trees that must have been hundreds of years old. We stopped at a stone bench to enjoy the cool night air. My heart raced as Bill knelt on the grass before me and buried his head between my breasts, sucking on them hard. His absence these two weeks suddenly flooded my being. I wanted him to devour me. Bill moved downward and buried his face under my dress, biting on my thighs as he tugged on my lace panties. He pulled them down around my ankles, then spread my legs. His mouth was so warm as it covered my pussy. I wiggled a little from the intense pleasure as he licked me over and over again. Pleasure flooded my whole body as I came, thrashing about on the stone bench, Bill fighting to hold me still. When he emerged from under my gown, his breathing was ragged and the look in his eyes was one of a man who needed to be fucked. Quickly now, we made our way to our quarters. Once there, I went into the bathroom and put on the white chemise nightgown that had been left for me. Bill positioned me so that I was bent at the waist, holding on to one of the bedposts. I heard his pants drop and then felt the warmth of his cock on the back of my thigh as he pushed my long hair to one side and began to nibble on my ear and neck. “Put it in me,” I begged. Bill positioned the head of his cock at my opening and slid right into me. I moaned along with him as he slowly fucked me from behind. His arm was around my waist while he used his other hand to lean against the post, keeping his balance. I felt as if my feet would come off the floor each time he pulled me back onto his shaft. Bill’s grunts and groans grew louder and more insistent. His pace quickened and I held on tight to the post, imploring him to play with my clit so that I could cum with him. It was only a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on my clitoris before Bill pulled me as hard as he could onto his cock. I felt him pulsing inside me as he filled me with hot cum and I shuddered through my orgasm. After a nice hot bath we retired for the evening to our satiny bed for a wonderful night’s sleep. The rest of the weekend was just as exciting, although we didn’t get into costume every single night. We did, however, spend much of our time making love in the beautiful garden, the watch tower and in the dimly lit staircases of our medieval castle nestled in the hills of Italy. The Castle My wife plays the harp. I usually watch her from behind, as she plucks the strings, first thing in the morning. I stand behind a curtain. She knows I am probably there, but never looks around. There is a full length window opening onto the courtyard, its balcony, and the spilling acres of green countryside which engulfs the house in its footings. Birds are the only witnesses to the open sky which falls over the steepled, shingled wooden roof which protects us. We have a few servants. They are sly, disobedient, and gorgeous, hand picked from the neighbouring villages, none of which are within one day's travel. For that reason, they stay on with us for months at a time. They are not permitted to leave without financial penalty unless they assist us to find a suitable replacement. Today was overcast. Despite the ill wind, the grating of the gate outside against its iron lattice frame, the vaguely threatening creek of tall oak trees against the eves, she was up at dawn preparing to play. She plays only for 15 minutes either side of dawn each day. It is her gesture of piety, and submission. Since it is my will that at all other times she is available to me. I never call her, against her will, but we both enjoy this potential authority. In fact, of course, the reality is otherwise: it is she who orders me about. She uses an imperious, crooked finger, usually, not even with one single word in accompaniment, and laughs or moans in her chosen game of charades. Her cunt is the texture of butter, warm, soft, inviting, liquifying. With dollops of honey, if provoked or stimulated. It reminds me of the colour of her harp. So when she plays, of course, she makes no pretence about spreading her legs, in case I am watching. But today I was a little late and I wasn't there until she was almost finished. I found Lillian sitting next to her on the seat. Slowly, stroking the Madame's lustrous hair, her arm angled behind her at an uncomfortably acute angle. Lillian was wearing her nightdress, a diaphonous, silken material, extremely expensive, fitted by the Madame herself. Lillian's breasts were high, pink-nippled, and clearly evident in the soft rays of sunlight pouring through the glass. Madame herself was shamelessly displaying her pudenda's beautiful golden foliage, reflecting back to the Sun the very mirror image of its perfection, giving back to the verdant trees outside their own wayward spillages, absorbing like the sky moisture, pheremones, and breath, wrapping them all up into itself, ready to discharge. As I took up position in the curtain, I looked around me in the dark and saw already there a mass to my left. Astounding: how did I not see him? It was Robert, the young horsemaster, already outfitted for the pasture, ready to train the horses should I decide to go hunting. I noticed his fine head of black hair, well kept, and his politely attentive turn of head, ensuring he missed no detail of the Madame's recital or of Lillian's docility. His attentiveness was what I most prized in any male servant. It was their duty to fulfill to the absolute every explicit, every implicit, every halfway or even barely at all suggested request, whim, notion, or thought of any lady of the house, though with certain priority accorded, of course, to the Madame. If discipline were required, he would be well equipped among all the male servants to administer it: several large horsewhips were ready in the stables, and there were large wooden stocks should the occasion demand it. Sometimes, myself and a few friends liked to indulge in harmless mock torture. Of course, we agreed to submit to whatever ordeal we meted out. In fact, this was the whole purpose of our pretended discipline. It was a rewarding game, no less for the fact of its religiously followed repetition at least weekly. I heard a groan from Robert. I reached into his pants and found an erection that I never quite fathomed, always, somehow, escaping my complete grasp. Slipping left, right, up, down, sliding around, in, out, I could never hold it at rest. Sometimes, as Robert happily fucked deeply into my wife's beautiful cunt, while I did the same duty on Lillian's pert, lithe, brunette fleece, I reflected that this was the closest I would ever come to his steely girth: to see it framed in the churning butter of Madame's quim. It was a sight after which I usually wished I had just been sentenced to death by vulture, so that my eyes could be plucked out whole, and the last vision remaining me would be this one of haunting beauty. Today, I reached down and licked his cock. Robert massaged my ears, but didn't even look down. It could have been any of the servants, he probably guessed. I was jacking him slowly into my mouth. Suddenly, Lillian 'discovered' our movements or moans in the curtains. We were confronted by the sight of Madame lasciviously licking her finger, inserting it into her cunt, then Lillian's, then her mouth, then Lillian's mouth, both of them enraptured by Robert and I. I stood up, not wishing to seem the inferior of my servant. I ordered him to fuck my wife's mouth as hard as he liked. Meanwhile I would lick his balls. Lillian knew her duty: she was to lick my arse and my wife's. She preferred, I think, my rusty, old smell, a more refined and deeper, wooden vintage to my wife's light, chardonnay sweetness. Poor Lillian, though, only had herself to frig herself with. She reached behind to find a small dildo, hanging from the wall, arched in chrome and ribbed, and started roughly jigging herself. Lillian often told me how she admired Madame, how Madame was like a mother to her. I pulled her down and got her to lick Madame's cunt. I got Robert behind me, so that he could skewer me, while I inserted my pole into Lillian's tiny pussy. She was only eighteen and looked sixteen, to Robert's twenty, but both were experienced beyond their years. Madame was left to look on, she smiled, said good morning to me, and talked as if she were interested only in organising the diary for today's social agenda and issuing orders to the scullery for our breakfast. I wasn't fooled of course: I immediately read the implicit command in her voice. I decamped from Lillian and slipped my hardness straight into Madame's core. She vocalised like an Ocean Spright, a lean sea eagle which circles its prey slowly before sinking in for a final swoop. Robert installed himself again in her mouth, then started wanking over her breasts. I helped her lick him. Lillian, meanwhile, tongued our arses. Madame reached over and shoved a finger into Lillian's arsehole. At that precise moment, the sun entered the chamber, and Lillian's parents, strolling outside (our guests for the past week or so), looked in, smiling, to see how well engaged her daughter was by us, and how profitable for her experience we were proving. Madame struck a high C, a note which quavered and danced around the room. Robert and I grunted and moaned like wounded bears, and I thought of hunting and death. Over the top of the forest, a squadron of eagles took flight, heading east. The Castle The ceiling was impossibly high. Stones climbed into the heavens in a near perfect spiral. The sense of space was enough to give Sara vertigo. She gave in and let the grandeur of the castle's great hall sweep over her while the priest delivered his speech. The words sprang off his lips in resounding, booming tones of confidence and gratitude. She regarded his tall figure standing behind the lectern, as he reached with his hands as if trying to send his words farther than he could intone them. Paul was fidgeting beside her, maybe bored or maybe anxious. He had planned this trip for them, a weekend in a medieval castle in rural France, a chance to relax, reconnect, and hear a speech by a respected international figure. It bothered her that she could not read his thoughts. He uncrossed his legs again and shifted in his seat. But he did look like he was attentive. She decided to ignore the issue. Waiters were busy bringing after dinner drinks to the dozen or so circular dinner tables that dotted the floor of the stone chamber. Still, it bothered her. Was he as intoxicated with the lightness and spaciousness as she was? Was he thinking of fucking her? She reached under the tablecloth and put a hand between his legs. He glanced up and gave a surprised smile. He hadn't been thinking about this at least, but he was now. The priest was telling stories that had everyone laughing and inspired at the same time. She wanted this priest. Did Paul know she had thoughts like this? She imagined herself behind the lectern with the young priest's pants unzipped. Fumbling to free his hardening cock and giving it a long slow trace with her tongue while he struggled to retain his concentration. He would be uncontrollably hard when she would stop, sit down and sweep her fingers over her soaking pussy, stroking her clitoris. The priest would have to look at her every time he glanced down at his notes. Mercifully as she drew close, she would reach up and stroke him - an impassioned few minutes of using her hands to pleasure both of them. Unexpectedly he would stop his speech for a moment, look down at his notes and orgasm with power enough to propel his semen across her body. This would be enough to send her over the edge, and she would orgasm still feeling the pulsing of his rod in her hand. What was Paul thinking? She wondered again as she saw him stand up to applaud with the rest of the audience. His tall, lean form gushing honest appreciation. He could be so naively cute sometimes, she thought, with his touchable hair and smile of authentic joy. He looked at her and, with his eyes, told her he loved her. The hall was loud with the reverberation of enthusiastic applause. The guests milled about mumbling to one another the collective judgment that they had witnessed a great man give a great speech. Sara glanced around the crowd, seeing the throngs around the priest. Paul was meeting his own colleagues and greeting some of Sara's as well. She decided to duck out to the bathroom, a feint to avoid the trivia. The employees directed her down the corridor towards the bathroom. Lit by torches, the stone hallway led to a modern bathroom. Dimly lit but enough to see her own reflection in the irregular mirror hanging over the basin, she recognized the feeling of unreality, the sense of electric possibility in the air as in a desert landscape lit by moonlight. Whatever her usual doubts about her place in the world, this was a moment frozen in time, a break from her own mortality, when life was both vivid and unknown. She slipped back into the corridor and caught sight of the robes of the priest going into the men's room. Without deliberation, she ducked back into the bathroom where she could just see enough of the corridor to pull it off. When the shadow of the priest reappeared, she stepped out, a leap of faith, bumping into him. "Oh, I'm sorry - I just didn't see you there." "Oh no, it's my fault really. I'm Sara, and I loved your speech." She searched for reaction even as she said the words. He looked like he was genuinely glad to meet her. "I am afraid that I am very tired and would probably not even see a moving truck pass in front of me right now." They wandered back down the corridor together. At his urging, Sara told him about her own work. Her dress brushed the stone floor as she stepped confidently, listening and talking. He began to bid her goodbye and head down the corridor that led to his room. As the guest of honor he was staying in the main bedroom. He is so naive, she thought. He has no idea. And he did not. He accepted her request for a tour; she seemed so interested in this medieval castle. It looked like the corridor would dead-end; there was only an open doorway. She could see into the room before they arrived. Without doors, the tapestries on the far wall came into view first. Then vaguely the torchlight revealed ancient furniture, an armoire, a standing mirror, two spire-like bedposts. The bed was in the center of the room draped in silk and lace. Her heart pounded a little as he strode into the room in front of her. His back was to her, in a posture suggesting blissful unawareness of her lascivious thoughts. She walked into and across the room to the wine rack. Unceremoniously and recklessly she picked a bottle and opened it. Pouring into two glasses without so much as looking to see if he was even interested. He smiled as he sat down across from her taking a drink from the glass she handed to him. As he proceeded to talk about the award and the night, she looked at his mouth, his lips, his wavy brown hair, the large hands he used gently to hold his glass. Taller than her husband, his form was even a little daunting. She was lost in admiration and in the mystery of him. He repeated - "Well, what do you think?" "I'm sorry. I was distracted. It has been a long evening." "No, no. It's my fault. You've exposed the undoing of the prideful - boredom. I have gone on long enough." But just then, he appeared instantly doubtful, then worried. "Oh no, I've forgotten something. I am sorry, but I must go make a phone call. I suppose I have to go back to the great hall." None of the rooms had electricity or telephones. "I am very sorry. Please feel free to finish your wine and maybe we can talk again tomorrow." "Definitely," she said. "It has been a real pleasure." And with a bow of his head he gathered his robe, got up and left her alone. Soon after, Sara stood and went to gaze out of the lone small portal onto the countryside below. A slit open to the outside world, it revealed a brilliant night sky. She searched in the narrow band visible past the thick stone for something special, some sign. ---- The priest walked a little anxiously back from the great hall, getting lost a couple of times in the winding corridors. Sara had been so beautiful that he felt guilt at failing to suppress even from his own mind his lust. Only the folds of his robes had hidden his cloistered sexuality from her sight. Every second had been an acute combination of pain, desire, and discipline. The firmness of his manhood was a constant reminder of the pleasure he had forsaken by a promise he made so long ago. Wrong corridor again. He paused but pretended not to pause by a room where a woman with her back to him was on her knees, naked, mouth full of her husband's organ. The man was lost in ecstasy, eyes closed. He could see the woman's moist sex subtly appearing between her legs as she shifted her weight. He tried not to pause and continued down the corridor straining to hear the woman's moans, the sound of a woman's pleasure muffled by a cock in her mouth. It was more than he could take. All of these images and feelings would become the fuel for masturbation tonight. He made up his mind not feel guilty about it. He made up his mind to sin. He finally got back to his room, seeing at once Sara's empty glass on the table. Why did he keep denying himself? He removed his robes and the rest of his clothing. Naked and hard, he went around to the side of the bed where the drapes were open and sat down, thinking for a moment. He turned to pull back the covers and stared, dumbfounded. The pink of her naked body was set off against the brilliant white of the bed coverings. Her arms were stretched above her head and her legs slightly spread. The curves of her hips and breasts, the flow and curve of her legs, all were delicately and deliciously exposed against the white of the bed. He stared at her erect nipples, the slight moisture of her sex. Her subtly engorged clitoris begged him to forget himself. She had watched him remove his clothing from behind the obscurity of the veil covering the bed. She had had to bite her lip when she saw his muscular shoulders and his broad, smooth back. Now the rippling muscles in his abdomen were in rapid motion as he struggled for breath. Without words, she reached down and began to stroke her clitoris. She smiled and closed her eyes, unable to remember when she had been so wet, when her sex had throbbed so heavily for attention. It felt as if she would come in moments. He began to get up and dart away. He knew this could not happen. His whole life was built around another purpose, one that meant forgoing precisely this. But he could not. He could not remember seeing an image so beautiful and yet so profane as the one of this stunning, nude woman pleasuring herself. Seemingly without free will, he sat back down and turned to face her. He saw the gleam in her eye as she saw it. It stood slightly shorter but thicker than her husband's, with a nice round head already glistening with moisture. Glancing down to his large scrotum, supporting what she fancied were impossibly heavy testicles, she reached out and held it. He gasped. He wouldn't last long. She rolled onto her stomach, reached up and popped the tip into her mouth. She felt it twitch on her tongue. Her husband's cock had never been this rigid. His fluid was even a little sweet. She took him in down to his scrotum. She felt his hands in her hair, holding on as if for his life to her scalp. She tossed her head to one side and saw him gazing down at her, in disbelief at the site of his cock disappearing into the sweet, warm mouth of such an amazing woman. Sara was determined to give him the best head she had ever given, to a man who had been denied for so long. She imagined his tension as he took the confessions of sinners, people fucking their way through life and supposedly sorry about it. He had to listen to their stories of abandon, pretending that he disapproved, maybe even believing that he disapproved. He would retire afterwards, she thought, and bring himself to orgasm imagining himself with his cock buried deep in a pussy, any pussy. Maybe he thought of fucking a woman as she had another cock in her mouth, maybe as another man was in her ass. He fantasized of utter invasion, she thought, of a woman totally sexualized. That was what she knew as she saw the longing in his eyes. His cock jerked violently in her mouth. He was biting his lip and his eyes were closed. She sucked harder, tightened her mouth's grip and furiously pumped his cock as she felt his semen shoot into her mouth. Swallowing his seed was her gift tonight to this man who had never known this pleasure. She felt the spasms subside and his shaft soften in her mouth. Playfully she moved her tongue a bit, petting him from the inside. Finally she let go, gave him a meaningful smile and lay back down. He hesitated but for moment before moving on top of her. He kissed her neck, her cheeks, then full on the mouth. She ran her hands over his chest, along the tight skin around his shoulders. The pulsing in her clitoris was too intense to ignore. Involuntarily she reached down, but his hand caught hers. With light swirls he kissed his way down her side, brushing her breasts, down to her thighs. She felt him pause, inhaling her sex. Looking down she saw his wavy hair tossed to one side and caught sight of his tongue at the same time she felt the first jolt of electricity in her clitoris. She grabbed his head, forcing it down and his tongue began a rhythmic massage. She couldn't help but squeeze him with her thighs. His muscular back was exposed to her as brushed her feet along his side. She bit her lip as the tension mounted. From playful darting movements, to firm and full licks with his whole tongue. She could feel her own wetness mixed with his saliva running down her labia to her ass and onto the sheets. Lost in her own fantasy of this reality she started to come. The first wave took her by surprise, her back arched and her whole pussy thrust into the priest's face. She could feel him as though he were consuming her entire sex. He continued his gentle sucking and licking as wave after wave of orgasm rocked her entire body. Her arms flailed to embrace his whole head. Finally it was too intense and she pushed his head away as she began to relax. He was on top of her again at once. She wrapped her arms around his body as she felt the tip of his cock at her wet entrance. She pulled her legs up, feeling herself gradually penetrated. It filled her up sending renewed shockwaves of orgasm through her body. "Just fuck me," she whispered. She wrapped her legs around his body, reaching down to feel the muscles around his ass as he thrust in again and again. She was coming again. "Oh my god." "You're beautiful," was all he could say in his abandon. She could feel his cock growing even more rigid as his balls slapped against her with each thrust. "Oh god," he whispered. He let out a single moan - loud, filled with relief. Just then her own sex tightened and she was over the edge again as she knew his semen was pouring into her body. It was then that she looked up to see, through the mist of the bed veil, the masked, but unmistakable figure of her husband in the doorway, watching as another man emptied his semen into her vagina. She regarded him with her toes curled in the ecstasy of orgasm, legs wrapped around the priest as his cock pulsed inside of her. With a free hand she pulled the veil aside. He gave a slight smile, turned and continued toward the dead-end. Two laughing women followed him. Letting the veil go, she turned back to the priest, now breathing heavily with sweat covering his brow. His heavy breathing warmed her neck. They lay there for nearly an hour. She felt his member grow soft again inside of her. He finally rolled off of her. Lying side by side, they smiled at each other and did not speak again. She raised her naked body up from the bed, giving him a last look at the beautiful form he had just made his. Giving him one last, passionate kiss, she dressed and left the room - heading for the dead-end. ---- The torches cast a dim light on the stone walls. Sara could see nothing but stone but knew there must be some trick. She picked up the torches, replaced them, pushed on the walls with her hands. She got down on her knees and inspected the floor. But there were no handles, no buttons. She traced her way back to the great hall and then down the corridor back to her room. It was empty with its much more modest bed taking up much of the small room. She glanced at the table and was heartened to see a note. "Find Corey." That was all it said. It was in Paul's handwriting, but it was not signed. She was still unsure about what had just happened. It was not exactly how she and Paul had planned it. Though she had not exactly violated his trust - and god had she enjoyed it - she found herself distressed. Her clitoris tingled slightly just thinking about the priest's naked body between her legs. But she needed her husband now. She took the note and walked back to the great hall. It was late now and the front desk at the far end was closed. She walked toward it nonetheless, hoping to see someone who could at least tell her who Corey was. She passed the cafe, where a few couples were having drinks and some were having desserts. She found the hostess, who, while claiming not to know who Corey was, pointed Sara toward the kitchen. Passing through the doors, she walked into a different world. The glare of stainless steel under bright lights replaced the gloom and mystery of the halls and chambers put on show for the guests. The first person who saw her pointed to another door, a small red door. And this door opened to a descending flight of stairs. More stone now. The smells of the kitchen following her though, she descended, rounded a corner, and descended again into darkness. She glanced up awkwardly. They had pointed her this way. But it was late - what if the doors locked above her and there was no one below. She decided to head back up and ask someone directly. Just as she turned, a voice came out of the darkness. "Don't stop now. You're almost here." She wanted to ask who it was. But of course she would not recognize his name even if he told it to her. She thought for a moment. "Come on, just grab the handrail." And so she did. After ten or so steps she was in utter darkness. Each foot down was a step of faith. She briefly imagined stepping into nothingness and falling forever. Maybe she had been damned for her corrupting influence on the now dozing priest. A faint light appeared. She became aware of the muffled rumbling of machinery. The bass and striking metallic sounds of some now obsolete process seemed to be coming from somewhere above beyond the walls. The light was a small incandescent bulb hung nakedly over a wooden door. She knocked. "Hi, I'm Corey," said the small man who emerged. ---- Paul was trying his best not to come too soon. The image of his naked wife wrapped around - dominated by - another male was burned into his brain, and it was nearly causing him to orgasm from the unintentional and only slight movements of the woman's hand around his cock. In front of him, another woman was bent over a table, while yet another woman lay draped over her, kissing her around the back of the neck. All three women were enjoying Paul's prolonged arousal. The hand around his cock was already slick with his fluids. The woman on the table had long, black hair, with dark skin. Maybe she was Indian. He could not see her eyes behind her mask. Her relatively small breasts were pressed hard against the table. The light skin and blonde hair of the woman on top of her contrasted sharply. The blonde stepped away for a moment into the darkness. Coming back into the torchlight, she was holding a double-ended glass phallus with harness. The Indian woman tossed her black hair to one side as she turned to look, not wanting to move, with her legs slightly spread, feet flat on the floor and chest pressed against the smooth wood of the old table. She watched as the blonde smoothly inserted one end into her own sex. ---- "Is that Paul?" Sara asked in disbelief. She was staring at one of the video screens showing a man standing, partly in shadow, with a redheaded woman behind him grasping his erection. They were looking intently straight ahead. The very next monitor showed the blonde approaching the Indian woman with slow, deliberate steps. Sara's gaze tracked back and forth between monitors. The blonde put both hands on her partner's sides and stroked gently down to the hips. She then positioned the phallus in the moist opening, letting the tip grow wet as it pressed against the Indian woman's cunt. With a smooth, gradual motion, she buried the phallus to the hilt. The Indian woman opened her mouth slightly, moaning probably, and closed her eyes. The blonde with the phallus now buried, lay on the Indian woman's back, breasts pressed firmly against warm skin. "I don't know their names," said Corey. "Only the business manager knows names. Don't you remember filling out all of our forms with your client number rather than name?" The Castle "What are you talking about? We just checked in yesterday. We never filled out any forms." "Who planned this trip?" "My husband," she said in a low voice, indicating that she finally understood. She looked at him in the monitor. Why wasn't he moving? His cock seemed on the verge of exploding. Even in the weak light she could make out the engorged head and all of the pre-cum dribbling out onto the stranger's hand. She saw him shift a leg and caught sight of the reason for his stillness. His legs were chained to the floor and his hands were bound behind him. The redhead kept her hand perfectly still. She appeared to whisper something into Paul's ear, or maybe she was just kissing or nibbling. Mercifully she gave a few quick jerks. Sara was transfixed as she saw her husband's milky cum explode from his shaft. The redhead cupped her hand to catch it all and pumped furiously with the other, pumping every bit out. "Ok, how do I get there?" "Well you need a mask. Your husband seemed concerned when you weren't there to pick yours up with the others in the great hall. He waited around with a few others for almost an hour. It wasn't until I got back here that I found out why." With that he pushed some buttons - she saw a jerky rewinding image on another screen. He hit another button, playing a video of the priest pounding into her. As she sat dumbfounded, Corey ejected the tape and gave it to her. "We don't keep the ones where you can identify the participants. Do what you want with it." He then got up from his chair, walked across the room and came back with the same kind of black, velvety mask worn by the others. "Go back past the priest's room. You will find your way now." Without another word she turned to go, catching sight of a monitor showing the greenish image of a staircase, the night-vision with which Corey saw her slight panic coming down earlier. "Thanks," she said as she disappeared out the door. --- Back at the dead-end now and she still wasn't sure what to do. She looked around for help. Running out of ideas, she put on the mask. Corey was watching obviously. Just then part of the stone floor retracted, revealing a descending staircase, once again into darkness. Again she stepped, having faith that another step would in fact be below her. Suddenly, her foot rested on nothing but air, and she began falling into darkness. After only a few feet, she landed on a luxurious array of cushions. Discombobulated, she stood up and could make out the faint light of torches ahead. There was a man there in the passageway. As she made her way toward the light, she was taken aback by the sight of a very large and very muscular man. He was nude, with a very large flaccid penis and a large scrotum. His short black hair disappeared behind the mask covering most of his face. "Take off your clothes and come this way," he said. She could see now that the passageway contained hooks from which all sorts of clothing hung. Hesitating for a moment, she removed her clothes and stood naked before the large man. He turned, motioning for her to follow. She matched his slow pace down the corridor, her gaze never distracted from her guide's firm ass. From her vantage she could see his scrotum shift as he walked. She had the urge to move behind him, and grasp his soft and spongy cock. Just to squeeze the mass of it and play with it in her mouth. She imagined herself caressing the guide's rock hard body between her legs. She was roused from her lustful thoughts by the sound of moaning. The first cell on her right came into view. Another gasp - it was a thin brunette, with long legs, thin. Probably Asian, she thought. She was bound to a stone table, hands and feet spread into four quarters, and blindfolded. Another woman, this one with full breasts and a curvy figure was on her knees between the legs of the Asian woman. With no other part of her body touching, she was intermittently licking the bound woman's clitoris with light flicks of her tongue - then stopping. "Almost an hour now," said her guide. By now the moaning was coming from all around, with too many voices to differentiate. She paused as they passed another room. A man was entering a woman from behind, while beneath another woman had her hand on the pumping shaft, letting it pass through, slick with the moisture of sex. They passed at least ten more rooms, some too dark to be discerned. In one, a circle of at least eight men were standing with hands and feet chained tightly. In the center was a woman chained to a reclining, mobile chair. A tall, breathtakingly nude brunette was taking her time, going from one man to another and giving each a few, slow strokes. Then she would kneel in front of the woman, giving her a few languorous licks. After ten minutes of this, she moved the chair into position and guided one of the restrained men's cocks into the woman's pussy. She left them there, unable to move while she made another round, giving each man a few more tugs. Sara saw the now-intertwined couple strain to generate motion. She felt sure she could see somehow each of them flexing their genitalia - anything to fuck one another. Looking back, Sara saw that the woman had stopped in front of one man. Down on her knees she took him into her mouth and sucked wildly, bobbing her head on his shaft. The man grunted, and the woman immediately stood, leaving the man's cock to jerk and spasm in midair - spewing cum into the embroidered cloth the woman held out a few inches away. She continued her rounds as before. Then, coming back to the in-coital prisoners, she stroked the base of the man's shaft while licking all around the restrained woman's engorged labia. Gently she rocked the chair back and forth, finally giving them the fucking they both wanted. They wouldn't last long. But suddenly the woman pulled the chair back pushing it back to the center of the circle, slowing to a prolonged pointless spin. And it all began again. Tearing herself away, she continued down the hall. Then she saw Paul, now with his hands bound above his head, each hand suspended by a chain attached to the ceiling. He was left to watch as all three women lay in a circle on the floor, the mouth of each on another's cunt. In the corner, which she had not seen before, another large man stood with arms folded. He seemed nearly identical to her guide, with the same almost overly-muscular build and large dangling cock and scrotum. She wondered how he could remain so composed. Was this that routine for them? Her guide opened the cell with a key hanging on the wall and motioned for her to go inside. It was not until she had sat on the edge of the table and begun to masturbate that Paul realized who she was. The shivering in her body was nearly immediate, the involuntary contractions that signaled complete arousal. She needed so badly to come. She looked down below her on the floor. The redhead's hand caressed the blonde's side up to her breast as she tongued her entire labia. Sara lay back on the table and stroked her clitoris, closing her eyes. Suddenly she was being held down - her hands were chained, her feet trapped. She looked up to see two of the "guides," one at each hand, and the three women at her feet. "Paul!" "Shhh..." whispered the blond woman. The woman knelt down and began licking Sara, from her thighs, across her mound, up to her stomach. Glistening with Sara's juices, the woman came close to Sara and told her everything would be fine. Looking to her left and right, she saw the guides with their large, stoic penises hanging down, as if standing guard. They were almost within the grasp of her chained hands. The cell door opened and a very large man entered, dark in complexion, of an indiscernible ethnicity, wearing a mask like the rest of them. His cock rose proudly, fat and huge like a trophy. "It's your turn Sara," was all that he said. Sara grimaced at the sight of it. He began by laying his warm shaft over her labia, just letting it stay there. Then he gently moved it back and forth, floating on Sara's wetness. She looked over at Paul who was staring in disbelief. The Indian woman had made her way over to him. Hooking her legs onto the bars of the cell and pulling herself up around his neck, she mounted him while he stood. Sara could see her husband's cock disappear into the woman's dark and enveloping pussy. Her gaze shot back to big man above her as she felt the head of his penis pause and push slightly into her opening. "Yes," she said, "do it now." He pushed slowly, and she was filled inch by inch, stretched by an engorged cock she knew would explode inside her. Stretching her body in ecstasy, her hand found the limp masses that were the guides' penises. She squeezed as she squirmed on the table. He was all the way in. She saw stars as he began pumping. She felt so full that she had nowhere to go. The redhead had straddled Sara, facing away from her, and bent down to lick Sara's clit as the big man fucked her. Sara exploded, squeezing her cunt around the massiveness inside her. She felt warmth in her hands and realized that both of the guides had become aroused. She pulled one as hard as she could. Taking the hint, the guide positioned himself so that Sara could take him in her mouth. Moving her head she ran her tongue over his warm, full shaft. Sucking and stroking with her tongue, she began to taste his pre-cum. The groaning was coming from all around. Sara then felt the most massive pulses she had ever felt inside her pussy as the big man exploded, filling her with semen. The guide groaned, pulled out of her mouth and came all across her torso. Sara had never stopped coming, and now nearly blacked out as she lay there, staring at the stone ceiling. --- She awoke to distant sounds of sex. Still on the table, but now unchained. She sat up and realized that the others had left. She panicked for a moment - where was Paul. Calmly, though, she rose up and walked back down the hall toward the hole she had fallen through to get to this place. She dressed and asked the guide how she would get back up. He motioned for her to sit on the mound of pillows. As she did, he began to pull a rope that somehow lifted her up toward the ceiling, which had now given way. Back on the surface, she made her way through the corridors, past the room where the priest now slept guiltily and fitfully, and finally to her own room. Where was Paul? It was nearly dawn - and then she knew. She managed to find the right set of stairs. Up and up, she ascended the high tower. There bathed in the first hint of light of the coming day was Paul, now clothed, looking blissfully out onto the French landscape. "I'm happy. It's not what we planned, but I'll never forget it." "Of course you won't. You probably already bought the tapes from Corey." "You know me too well. You know how beautiful you are," he said earnestly, the purple of the dawn sky beginning to illuminate her face. "How?" He stripped her of her clothes, and then slowly removed his own. The light was golden now and streaming in to overtake the shadows. They kissed passionately. He tasted her tongue, his wife's wonderful tongue. It had only been ten years, and somehow this had cleansed them. They'd go on to relive this weekend in their minds, sometimes with each other. But they would never again know anyone but each other - and that was good enough. She grasped him and pulled him into her, placing him at her entrance. He thrust into her and closed his eyes. "I love you," he said as moved in and out of her on the stairs, her legs wrapped around his back. "I love you too," she said as she felt his seed spill inside of her. The Castle Darkness fell heavily over the mountain forest as storm clouds roiled in the sky. Tall pines swayed in the growing wind and raindrops began to spatter the rocky terrain. At the edge of the forest, a forbidding structure stood, all stone and ironwork. It looked like no one had entered in centuries but one window showed a flickering light, the silhouette of a woman prominent against the glow. He was late. She peered out into the gloom, searching for any sign of him. She began pacing the stone floor, her bare feet cold against the slabs. She hugged herself against the damp chill in the chamber. The room was almost cavernous, dark grey blocks of stone dimly reflecting the large pillar candles placed around for light and warmth. A massive, oaken four poster bed dominated the room. Black velvet hung from its frame and draped the downy mattress. Frustrated and worried, she decided to draw a bath in the hopes of relaxing and distracting herself until his arrival. She entered the small bathroom, a golden glow welcoming her from the many small and large candles scattered about the claw foot tub. She filled the tub and let her scarlet colored robe fall to the stony floor, her ivory skin shimmering in the light. She piled her mahogany waves on top of her head with a small barrette and slid into the water, closing her eyes as the warmth enveloped her chilled skin. She let her thoughts drift, even if they constantly returned to him. He pushed his horse harder than ever before. The raven-colored steed cut a sharp track through the puddles, its hooves pounding the hard ground as it struggled up the steep slope towards the castle. He knew she was waiting, feeling a tug deep within, drawing him to her despite the worsening storm. He was like a man possessed, his eyes shining unnaturally bright. He drove the stallion to its brink as he finally approached the imposing, iron gate surrounding the estate. The horse skidded on the slick stones as he flung himself off its back and rushed towards the entrance. Her eyes flew open. She sat up abruptly in the bath, water sloshing over the sides and splashing the marbled floor. He was here. A slow smile spread across her pink, full mouth when she heard the pounding of his footsteps on the staircase. She gracefully stood up and stepped out of the tub, patting her skin dry with a plush towel. The bedroom door flung open, the rusty hinges creaking in protest. She could barely contain her excitement at the first sight of him, panting and dripping from the rainy ride. He was mesmerized. Lit from behind, she looked like a porcelain goddess. Her wavy hair was tousled, delicate tendrils framing her angelic face. He could see the desire illuminating her enormous dark eyes so that they appeared like black orbs against the paleness of her skin. His gaze trailed down her body, lingering on her heavy, full breasts and curving, soft hips. He strode purposefully across the room, lips slightly parted in wonder and desire. He stopped just in front of her, their bodies almost touching. He could feel the warmth radiating from her slightly damp skin. He was almost loath to touch her perfect face as he reached his strong fingers toward her. She looked up into his eyes and smiled softly, cradling her face in his rough hand. His damp, dark hair clung to his stubbled jaw and she admired the masculine lines of his chin and mouth. She could almost smell the desire radiating from him. She stepped the last few inches into him, pressing her nude body down the length of him, her nipples hardening against the chill of his sodden cloak. He shuddered slightly at the feel of her, closing his eyes briefly. His free arm gripped her waist suddenly, pressing her tighter against him. His lips found hers, his tongue greedily probing her sweet mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to better reach him. He started walking backwards towards the large bed, continuing to kiss her as his hands began to explore her body. She broke the kiss long enough to wrench his cloak from his shoulders before his mouth again conquered hers. He picked her up and flung her unceremoniously on the bed. She opened her mouth to protest but all that escaped was a low moan as he suddenly plunged his warm tongue into her cleft. He savored every wet taste of her, swirling and suckling while his large hands gripped her soft thighs. His fingers dug in as he felt his erection swelling against his trousers. He continued to plunder her depths with his tongue, feeling her body begin to tremble until she screamed his name, her fingers digging into his hair as she climaxed. She sat up and crawled towards him. He watched her breathlessly, admiring the swell of her hips and supple behind when he felt her fingers yanking on his pants, freeing his rigid cock. He threw his head back and let out a guttural groan as her warm, wet mouth tasted him, her tongue traveling up and down the length of him until his member was almost twitching with arousal. She plunged her mouth down the length of him until she felt him hit the back of her throat. She sucked and licked him, angling her face to give him a full view of his enormous cock filling her ripe mouth. He stroked her hair, trying not to force her mouth any farther onto his body. His knees began to tremble as she swirled her tongue around his tip, smirking seductively at him. He let out an animalistic grunt as he shoved her backwards again onto the bed. He quickly rid himself of the rest of his clothes and crawled on top of her, running his rough hands up her body to cup and squeeze her breasts. She moaned deeply, squirming underneath him. He pushed his legs between hers, locking eyes with her as he began to slide his cock slowly into her, barely able to contain himself at the sensation of her, so hot, so tight, and so wet. She arched her back as he filled her, moaning loudly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her with each pump of his hips. She caressed his massive chest and shoulders, savoring every touch and sensation. Her breasts bounced with his every thrust, her breath coming more shallow and raspy. He increased his pace, pounding into the center of her with abandon, panting her name. He lowered his head and kissed her breasts, nipping her skin here and there and bringing squeals of pleasure from her with every teasing bite. The storm outside seemed to increase in intensity along with their lovemaking, the lightning strikes flashing bright on her alabaster skin, gleaming with perspiration as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from her. She felt herself nearing climax, screaming his name into the night as her insides spasmed around him. Her fingers dug into his back as he roared his release and the collapsed on top of her heaving chest. A soft rain began to fall outside as their breathing slowed and a small smirk played across her lips. The Castle & the Ring “Whatever is on his mind…I wish he would just tell me,” She thought to herself as they walked through the cool autumn evening. He had been silent all day as if lost in a world of dream. It had been a beautiful day…a wonderful day to be on vacation with the man she had grown to love more than any other she had ever been with. The trees were at peak autumn brilliance, the air crisp, and the sky a flawless blue. But he had spoken even less than is his wont. She knew him to be a man of few words, but this was different. She was starting to wish that she had not discussed the commitment issue with him the night before. But she had to say it…she just had to get it out in the open. It had been eating up her every thought for the last month and she needed to share it with him, but now she was scared that she had pushed him too far. Fear…that is what drove her to address the issue with him, fear of being led to yet another dead end in life. They had been together for over a year and in that time neither had seen any other as if by some sort of unspoken contract. She had been honest with him about her needs and goals in life but she knew little of his. Did he want to marry and have children as she did? She just wasn’t sure…he had never spoken about it. When she had addressed the issue with him in bed on the previous night, he didn’t speak a word. He simply smiled and curled up with his head on her shoulder. He was sound asleep in an instant. The light wind rustled the leaves on the ground as they approached the bluffs. One of the few things he had told her was that he wanted to go see Miner’s Castle and now they were approaching the wooden safety rail at the edge of the step bluff. The sight she saw stole her breath and brought tears to her eyes. Over the edge was a sheer sandstone cliff that fell a hundred feet to Lake Superior’s cold clear waters. Out off the end of a nearby point stood the castle. Not an actual fortress type of castle as she had expected but rather a castle shaped formation of colored sandstone that towered over the surface of the lake. The dwindling evening sun was a huge ball of fire that shot its rays between the formation’s two mighty ramparts. The sky was alive with color and fire. She stood speechless as if stricken dumb by the brilliance of the spectacle, tears brimming along her long eyelashes and trickling down her cheeks. She reached for him and pulled him close. His eyes were teary as well, but they looked troubled. She could take no more of this awkward distance that lie between them. She had no doubt that it was last night’s discussion that now worried her kindhearted lover and she knew she had to ease his mind. “Listen sweetheart,” she whispered as she softly turned his head and looked into his eyes, “I just get scared sometimes and I am a little insecure.” He stood silent but his eyes sparkled with comprehension. “About last night, hon,” she faltered for a moment, “you needn’t let that worr…” He softly cut off her dialog, his long soft finger pressed against her lips. She sighed and started to speak of her need to put his mind at rest but it was in vain. His velvety lips covered hers and he pulled her up against him, the tip of his tongue tickling her lips. He kissed her long and soft as he always did and she relished the sensation as he entwined his fingers into her soft dark brown hair. Her heart fluttered and her body started to tremble with urgency. He trailed gentle kisses along her petite but distinguished jaw and down onto the tender, sensitive skin of her neck. Butterflies whirled faster and faster in her stomach as he softly blew in her ear sending a surge of electricity down her spine. Her loins were starting to respond with fire to his ministrations as he started to descend his kisses down the ticklish underside of her left arm. He stopped a moment to lavish her wrist before he slowly took her index finger into his mouth. His tongue fluttered around her finger and her heart seemed to flutter in time with it. Next he took her middle finger and she could feel the very chemistry of her body boiling in the heat of this wondrous moment. Her mind reeled in excitement as he took her ring finger softly between his lips. But this time he bit down lightly between her first and second knuckle. Her eyes popped open as she felt something warm yet hard scrape over her long fingernail and onto her finger. His eyes opened and he looked with nervous longing into her deep dark eyes. He used his teeth to push the object onto her finger. Her heart leapt as he removed his mouth to reveal the ring. The modest yet beautifully cut diamond shimmered in the last ray of the now sinking sun. The stone fragmented the hues of the sunset and seem to glimmer with its own internal luminescence. He took her trembling hand in both of his and kissed her forehead. Tears welled in her eyes and she was blinded. She was conscious only of his presence and of the ring that she knew was a token of his undying devotion. She realized now that he had been saving for this emblem since the first day their eyes had met. She was abashed by her insecurity and doubt on the night prior. She looked in his eyes and in them saw her own destiny. Her body went limp and she was lost in her own bliss. She returned to the present when she felt the night breeze tingle across her now naked upper thigh. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist; he had lifted her off the ground and gently but urgently pressed her against the safety rail of the observation platform. She wondered how long she had been in lost to the world. Had it all been a dream? But no…the ring was still there and so was he. He had her hosiery and panties intertwined in his fingers. The soft musky scent of her own sex intermingled with the sweet smell of her perfume in the cool autumn air. The sunset had dwindled into hues of violet and deep purples marked with streaks of orange and blood red. She wrapped her slender legs around his waist and held him close, savoring the smell of his hair and the texture of his manhood as it brushed against her thigh and ran across her clitoris. A soft gasp escaped from her lips as he penetrated her in a gentle slow stroke. He took her deeply and held her close, touching her insides as he kissed her tear-streaked eyes. Each stroke increased in urgency but he kept his pace slow and deliberate. Her body shuddered in delight as she clasped onto his manhood and braced herself for her emminent climax. It came on as a great wave of feeling and emotion and she felt as though they had become as one entity…two bodies but one soul. She held him close as his body tensed and the warm sensation of his seed flooded her body, mind and spirit. She had never felt so close to someone as her own orgasm vibrated through her body. As her climax subsided she could no longer contain her emotion. She placed her head on his shoulder and sobbed audibly, her tears drenching his shoulder. She could feel the wetness of his eyes against her neck. She lifted her head and peered lovingly into his green teary eyes and there again was the destiny that she knew was inevitable. She saw a future of bliss and happiness…of beautiful days and endless nights…of beautiful children and walks in the forest. She knew that she could love no other so long as they both lived. His eyes reflected her sentiments in hues of color that no words can describe. By Mythrender