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The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4 (12 page)

BOOK: The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4
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Bullpole was entertaining the wily Greek when I arrived – via a bustling servant bringing them beakers of wine – and judging from the shrewd glitter in the Greek's slanting eyes, his intense enthusiasm indicated another campaign to gull the stolid Bullpole. I leaped from the departing servant to an overhead beam where I listened and watched with more than a little interest.
“Granted,” boomed Bullpole, “that a holiday would be most welcome indeed. I do weary of even these suitable and familiar surroundings from time to time. A visit to your establishment might be just the refreshment needed for my mind and body.”
“Oh, it would, I assure you!” The Greek sipped his goblet of wine, peering over the rim with bright, knowing eyes. “I would be honored to have you as my personal guest, and to arrange various little delights for your pleasure.”
Bullpole smiled. “That sounds promising.”
“Greece offers its own brand of sensuality, my old friend. Spain hasn't the only franchise upon pleasure, if you'll permit the observation. Besides, there is a particular aspect to our island that I'm sure will fascinate you.”
“Really?”
The Greek nodded, swallowing wine. “Definitely. In fact, this aspect would require a man of your superlative virility since, quite frankly, no Greek is endowed with the sufficient sexual strength to attempt it without almost certainly losing his life.”
Bullpole leaned forward, interest coming to life upon his broad face. “That sounds intriguing! Just what is this deadly aspect that no Greek dares to attempt? Tell me about it!”
“Well, it's a traditional truth. You would probably regard it quite mistakenly as a mere legend – a fanciful story.” The Greek stroked his beard with a thoughtful expression. “Actually, it's as true now as it was in ancient times. She lives in the sea-caves still.”
“Who does?”
“The Mermaid.”
Bullpole roared with laughter. “Oh, come now! You really believe that such mythological creatures as Mermaids really exist?”
The Greek's face was solemn. “This one does, old friend. I can easily prove her existence for you by simply showing her to you.”
“I believe what my eyes can behold.”
“Then you will believe in her existence when your eyes behold her dangerous beauty – a beauty so ravishing that many men have lost their lives trying to possess her.”
“Possess a Mermaid?” Bullpole looked puzzled. “But I have always seen them depicted as being half fish. How can a man take a -”
“Falsely depicted, old friend. Real Mermaids are physically just like human females – with lovely legs and the usual delightful equipment between those legs – but bearing the ability to breathe beneath the sea. And since they are a lower class of immortals, they regard all human beings with a contempt that is murderous.”
“Is that a fact now?” Bullpole's expression had become amused again. Obviously he wasn't believing a word the grim-faced Greek was saying. “And just what makes this little Mermaid so fatal?”
“Because she knows – according to tradition – that should a human male ever succeed in sexually mastering her, possessing her with unusual endurance until she is weak with pleasure and must admit that she has been entirely seduced – all the treasures of the sea must be handed over to her seducer.”
Skeptical greed – but greed, nevertheless – lit Bullpole's pale gold eyes. “And she possesses the power to give all the sea's treasures to the man who takes her?”
“That's right. She cannot refuse anything he demands. When you think of the limitless riches hidden in the sea – gold and silver in sunken ships, fantastic jewels long buried in the sandy bottom – the mind is staggered by the realization of how wealthy that man would be, having seduced her and made himself owner of the greatest source of fortune on this planet. I see by your expression that you still doubt the veracity of this tale.”
“It sounds like a fairy story.”
“Well, it's not, old friend.” The Greek's voice lowered to a confidential murmur. “I've seen her. She does exist. I simply lacked the courage to gamble my life upon the strength of my balls and cock. I confess this to you in all confidence.”
Bullpole studied the Greek with steady and most penetrating seriousness. “Your confidence will be respected. I admit, while still having difficulty believing this fascinating account, that I should like to see this deadly creature with my own eyes. Perhaps I have the courage necessary to attempting her seduction. I know I possess the sexual endurance and strength.”
“Be not overly boastful, old friend. This is a serious matter whether or not you are able to fully comprehend and accept it.”
“I suppose so, but I should like to see this Mermaid. Perhaps the actual sight of her would enable me to accept the tradition.”
“Yes, that's reasonable.”
Bullpole lifted his glass. “Then, here's to a pleasant voyage, an invigorating visit to your native land and to the possible sight of the Mermaid!”
The Greek drank the toast with him.
“I will request but a singular stipulation,” said Bullpole smiling strangely. “That you accompany me when I enter the sea-caves in search of this unlikely Mermaid of legend or fact.”
“Oh, agreed, old friend!” The Greek grinned cheerfully. “I wouldn't think of sending you by yourself into that dank and unnerving place! Yes, I shall go with you most gladly.”
“Good. Then I look forward to the experience. If, as you claim, there is a creature there who is to be seduced – I anticipate the adventure with relish! My empire of holdings was not built upon timid hesitation.”
“You will see her. Whether or not you will be able to seduce her is another matter. I regard your courage with awe, old friend.”
Bullpole smiled, obviously flattered – a weakness of character that I had sensed in him from weeks earlier. If anything was to be his undoing, it would be his own ego. That and his appetites for power and carnal pleasure which were surely as immense as his bulk.
“We'll sail in a few days when the wind and tide has been forecast properly by my experts in the matter of travel.” Bullpole yawned. “Forgive my rudeness but I'm weary and must retire for a nap.”
“Of course,” murmured the Greek, starting for the doorway and giving me the chance to board him as he went by the beam upon which I sat. “Until later, old friend. I have a delicious matter of some overdue pleasure to attend in my own quarters – a darling young creature whose virginity I've been saving for just such an afternoon dalliance and this evening seems a fine time to have at the beauteous wench since my balls are brimming with aching juice!”
Stepping into another room leading to a main corridor, the Greek stopped – seeing his ancient magician silently stealing across a hallway without realizing the Greek was watching him.
“By the wrath of the gods!” muttered the Greek, his eyes narrowing. “That old schemer is not supposed to be in these apartments. He's up to something treacherous, I'll wager. Well, he's just signed his own death warrant quite unknowingly!”
Waiting until the elderly sage had vanished in the direction of Bullpole's most private chamber, the Greek continued on to his own suite – his face gradually smoothing out and losing the lines of rage and dark realization, and I knew the oldster was indeed doomed.
Shortly thereafter, stripped naked and lying expectantly upon his couch in a dimly lit room, the Greek smiled lewdly as an attendant brought a nervous-looking Iona to the couch, removed her thin gown and quickly departed – leaving the ripely curved girl and the hairy Greek staring at each other's nude bodies.
“You're quite beautiful, my dear,” crooned the Greek. “Lie down beside me. I wish to know you. And you shall have the honor of feeling your master's manhood -” he waggled his large and rigid penis at her playfully, “- within your untouched body for your first experience of human joy!”
Iona crept upon the couch, her eyes averted. She lay unresisting as the Greek's hands and mouth began fondling and kissing every portion of her lovely young flesh – gasping as the bearded lips closed over her cunt and quietly moaning while he sucked and slobbered.
“Take my shaft into your mouth, child!” he panted, momentarily lifting his head. “You may give me the same pleasure I'm giving you!”
Twisting around so her face was closer to his upright member, she went down upon it – daintily nursing its bulbous head and warty column, and the Greek launched into a frenzy of sucking between the lips of her organ as he suddenly came – his spasms driving him wildly until he was temporarily drained of both juice and lustful verve.
“Ah, that was most pleasant!” He relaxed upon his back, grinning at her as she carefully wiped the greasy traces of the juices she had swallowed from her mouth with a corner of the sheet covering the couch upon which they lay. “In fact, it was so pleasant and you did it so well, I suspect you no longer possess a virginity.”
Iona broke into tearful sobs.
“That's all right, sweet wench. You shan't be punished for the transgression. You were never ordered to keep yourself untouched and to do so even ordered in this palace of opportunity for pleasure might be damn near impossible! You'll not be punished. I'm sure you're still a very enjoyable little piece.”
“Th-thank y-you, my 1-lord!” she sobbed.
“But, tell me, little rascal.” He regarded her with an expression of intensity. “Has your mistress had any intimate visitors of late?”
Iona hesitated, her knowledge clearly reflected within her tormented eyes.
“You must tell me,” he insisted gently. “It's a matter of greater importance than you could possibly understand.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Who, then, does she crave?”
“The one c-called Ignacio.”
The Greek's features creased into a smile. He chuckled to himself while his hand began stroking Iona's full and pointed breasts, their nipples going taut with excitement beneath his fingers. “Splendid!” he said softly. “Now I shall see if the lad is capable of the loyalty needed for the little jaunt into the caverns of the sea!”
“My lord?” whimpered Iona bewilderedly.
“Nothing for you to worry your pretty head over sweet female! You have just replaced your mistress! A handmaiden will be assigned to you! You are now my very special favorite – and since you are no longer a virgin, there is no need for me to be gentle or restrain the lust that boils in my blood!”
He rolled between her thighs with a growl of desire, roughly pushing his ramrod to her crotch and plunging it into the moistened pit between her velvety cuntlips-ignoring her cries as he fucked her in savage glee. Her feet waved erratically in the air as he attacked her with brutal pleasure – lunging at her with thrusts that sent his huge penis stabbing deeply into her body and withdrawing his organ until only its tip still impaled her, only to ram it inward again and again with increasing speed and force while he grunted and she gasped with the violence of the act.
Having seen this many times before and knowing how it would end, curiosity prompted my departure and I returned to Maria's chamber to find out how Ignacio and the ex-mistress no longer in favor were getting along. As I made the arduous journey in a succession of well planned hops and leaps – there being no servants in the corridors at this late hour – I found myself wistfully wondering why human beings were so limited in their lust, and so unlimited in their scheming. It imbalanced their natures.

 

They were resting again, having apparently just concluded another session of sucking each others' genitals until satiation had been reached. Maria lay now snuggled up to Ignacio, who stared at the high ceiling as he regained his breath.
“Oh, that's so good!” she whispered. “But too much of it numbs my clitoris and I cannot enjoy being fucked-something I care not to risk even though you eat pussy better than any man who has ever put a tongue to my parts!”
“I'm somewhat partial to the act, myself,” replied Ignacio. “Although I admit it pleasures me not as much as fucking – lacking the element of masterful drive and intensity toward the end.”
She reached for his limp member, fondling it to excited hardness and stroking its erected length with a lightly clenched fist enclosing the throbbing penis as it expanded readily.
“Then… fuck me!” she urged hoarsely. “With all the strength and fire and force you can muster – until I'm exhausted and pleading for you to stop or until your endurance gives out!”
He rolled atop her, nuzzling his face into the satiny flesh of her throat, kissing her naked shoulders and breasts with increasing excitement while he inserted himself between her firm thighs and her hand guided his pulsating cock to the door – the soft wet door of rippling lips that nibbled devilishly like a weird mouth – of her cunt. Without warning she lurched, sending him upon his back while she assumed the upper position, grinning down at him.
“Better yet!” she gasped. “I'll fuck you!”
She lowered her body, slowly impaling herself upon the plum-shaped tip of his straining penis, allowing it to slip into her hole while the lips around it rippled in nibbling, sucking motions.
“See my heated orifice greedily mouth your fine shaft! Se how the lips tighten about its hardness, nursing its girth! I'll wager you never stuck your sword in such a lively scabbard before, eh!”
For reply, Ignacio thrust his hip upward – shoving his aching member deeper into the warm wetness that engulfed his rigidity – bringing the lust up from his heavy dangling balls and sending it rising steadily toward the tip of his organ now slithering sensually back and forth in her yielding prison of delightful sensation. She began riding up and down upon the full length of his trembling shaft and the lust rose faster toward the final explosion so near.
“Wait a moment!” he begged. “Stop moving like that! I want to make this last longer!”
“I can't!” she grunted, now rapidly bouncing her tight-lipped cunt up and down his expanding penis in a frenzied tempo. “I'm coming! I'm coming!”
BOOK: The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4
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