The Gypsy King (2 page)

She floated up and hovered, then looked down with pleasure at what she and her lover were doing with each other. Her breasts ached and heaved as he ran his hot palms and finger over her 8

Morgan Rush

nipples, then squeezed her in his hands hungrily, sometimes even hurting her a bit with his passion.

He raked his fingers over her taut, delicate skin and she jumped as each finger popped over her rock-hard pebbles, making her jerk and spasm.

She watched in delight as his hands roamed

underneath her dress, then slowly pulled her damp panties to the side exposing her swelling vulva to the warm evening winds. Veronique

panted loudly as he scratched and pulled

mercilessly at her moist fur and she felt him bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw a smearing of blood. His fingers danced all around her

squirming mound and she wriggled and wrestled against him passionately as he slowly tapped her swollen clit with his strong hands and fingers, speeding up until he was spanking her lips and pussy with just the right amount of lovely

pressure and slap.

He spread her lips apart and smeared her juices all over her plump, tender butt cheeks, then around and over and into her sensitive, tight ass.

She relaxed and moaned into his neck as she accepted his slippery smaller finger up inside her most tender hole. Veronique winced and grinned slyly as he made it hurt a little more, pushing it just a little deeper. She ground into him harder, spread her legs wider and sank a little deeper into the lush ground to better steady her hips and thighs for what was coming.

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The Gypsy King

As her imagination soared, she steeled her

thighs for her first real taste of him and whispered in his ear, begging him
not
to go slow. She gasped at his hardness and girth, then purred as he split her open in one long, luxurious stroke. Veronique gave her all completely to her experienced and knowledgeable lover. He felt so delicious and so hungry for her it sent shivers up and down her spine. He always had a voracious appetite and pumped into her as long as her fingers could stand up to her own pounding and she usually came until her waterlogged fingers began

cramping uncontrollably. After her collapse, she enjoyed the peace and warmth that only she and her lover shared as they listened to birds and branches whispering in the wind.

“Mmmm. Orgasms. My own
little deaths
in the woods,” she whispered, putting herself back together and reaching for another Gitanes. “I soo love the feeling of my legs buckling and, if I have to imagine losing my virginity out here in the woods under the moonlight on a warm summer

evening just like this, well, so be it. It’s been working so far and, since my dear Leone’s idea of a good time is the local toilet, this will have to suffice!”

She knew in her heart that her first real lover was going to be far more romantic and enjoyable than someone who would try to convince her to settle for getting pounded in a washroom with 10

Morgan Rush

twenty-five drunken guests walking around a dinner party!
Bastard
! And wasn’t it just like Leone to announce their engagement in front of their dinner guests, including the damn Mayor of

Lourmarin! What was she supposed to say in front of her family and friends?

Veronique collapsed against a strong and stable tree trunk, trying not to feel the bittersweet anguish that came from seeing her young and promising future in front of her, knowing she was on the wrong track entirely!

“It has come to this. I’ve resigned myself to diddling myself silly in the middle of a forest, taking out my frustrations and anger at my fiancé who I do not love, while my family pushes me into a life I do not want.”

She laughed at her childish histrionics, but knew in her heart it was all true. She just wasn’t sure what to do about any of it. She continued talking to the voices in her crowded head while waving her barely-lit Gitanes in the figment of their direction.

“I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with an arrogant, selfish man who, since he first kissed me at thirteen, has been telling and acting to the world like he owns me. Nobody owns me!”

She pounded her hand into her fist to make her point. Standing sullen, she reminded herself with as much zeal as she could rally, not to lose her control, or her virginity, so easily in the future.

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The Gypsy King

Tears flowed in her eyes again and she thought about how great she wanted her first real lover to feel. But her bittersweet longing magnified just how far Leone was from ever coming close to pleasing her—in love, in life or in bed.

“If there is one thing I’m not getting from Leone Rodell, it’s romance and adventure!” An ash fell from her Gitanes onto her damp dress and she dashed it away in disgust. Not only did she feel disgust towards Leone, she had to admit she was a bit disgusted with her own inability to do

anything about her current conundrum either.

“How does everybody know what’s best for

Veronique, except
me
!” she groaned. She continued walking through the moonlit woods, afraid of nothing and afraid of everything at the same time.

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Morgan Rush

he path along the river’s edge was well lit Tfrom the moonlight. Veronique veered south and remembered how much she enjoyed feeling the dirt path beneath her feet again. She smiled, knowing the dirt would soon be mixed with the comforting sand of the Chamois and she could finally relax, alone and unhindered by anybody or anything. The loud splash startled her and

irritated her at almost the same instant. She froze and listened carefully.

A bear? A big fish?

Although she wasn’t particularly frightened of being out in the woods alone at night, her mind raced and she instinctively dropped to her knees.

She looked out across the dark river and was amazed to see an arc of bright silver leap out of the river towards the moon, catch the light in a sweeping curve, then splash loudly back into the water. Veronique watched as another arc made its way up and back down. She gasped as it splashed on the hips and thighs of a man floating in the water!

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The Gypsy King

Shadow covered his countenance, but he had

thick, black hair that pooled around his face and neck. His chest seemed to be reaching toward the sky as he pushed it up and out while he floated on his back and spit water up to the moon like he was a little child.

She almost laughed aloud until she realized that he was completely naked and certainly

somewhat
aroused. The head of his shaft bobbed and danced in the water like an apple in a barrel.

She spied several glimpses of semi-rigid cock, the cool water obviously having no effect on his girth.

With no thought at all, she felt her loins loosen and warm leftover trickles from her forest

fantasies turn into what felt like streams of pleasure coursing through her. Veronique took a deep breath to steady her mind and body.

“Who would be out here at midnight but me?”

she wondered, shocked, but giddy with

excitement.

She thought that perhaps he was a gypsy, or probably just a drunk going for a late night swim.

But he seemed different, and other than being naked and looking quite tasty, he seemed more regal somehow. He moved with a confident

intention, not haphazard like a drunk or some dirty gypsy sneaking a midnight bath. She

watched him quietly and giggled at hearing him hum to himself. Excited at her secret discovery, she crouched and crept slowly towards the man to 14

Morgan Rush

get a closer look.
A much closer look
.

* * * *

therefore wondrously buoyant, on his back,

studying the white pinholes in the dark curtain of his very own midnight sky. More than once he smiled as a razor-thin streak of light swooshed across the entire span of space, across what tonight he considered his own little patch of universe. He had been swimming in the Chamois since he was a child and was supremely

comfortable with himself. He floated on his back feeling like a playful otter with a mollusk on his chest, and his mind raced as he played one of his favorite games.

His mind thumbed quickly through page after page in his archive of wanderlust and he

wondered, curious if any Greek fishermen over in Crete saw that shooting star, too. Were the Bedouins in the Arabian Desert looking at the same sky? Were lovers in the piazza in Brindisi, Italy finishing their gelato, holding hands and watching as that star died? He had a vivid and colorful imagination and, in his head, he had an abundant reservoir of adventures to explore. He saw visions of elephants in Bangladesh,

weathered-greenstone castles in Scotland and Wales, rich golden rolling hills in Austria and 15

The Gypsy King

even pictured himself standing proudly on the head of the Statue of Liberty in Manhattan, New York.

“Do we all relish the same sky this evening?” he mused.

His lust for traveling and exploring the world never failed to energize his heart and soul. The only thing he fantasized about more about than traveling and adventure, was finding a woman with whom he could share these pleasures. He knew many girls in Lourmarin, but gave himself to none, yet. Forcing himself to be patient, he realized early in life he didn’t want just any girl, he wanted a woman.

His woman could, and would, desire and

appreciate him for something other than his family, their businesses, and yes, she would honestly eschew the money and rigid obligations that his family’s wealth required. Although his brother, Leone, enjoyed their stature and familial obligations by entertaining dozens of guests every weekend and hypocritically engaging in

guttersnipe politics, he detested both in almost all their forms. Ahndray considered himself a

renaissance man and his heart yearned for a different type of woman entirely.

As he sifted through the stars, he felt his adventurous spirit thirsting for not only travel and adventures, but also a travel
partner
. He wanted art in his life, he wanted music in his soul and he 16

Morgan Rush

wanted to dance with his lover every night of the week on each of the seven continents. He knew she was out there and he dreamt about adventures with her beside him. The more he thought about the woman of his dreams, the more he planned and studied, and the more he wanted to leave Lourmarin and begin his quest toward

discovering the true loves of his life.

He grinned, enjoying the familiar rush of heat to his loins as his cock jumped and twitched in response to his fantasies and desires. He was proud to see even the cool Chamois couldn’t chill his lust for adventure and his genuine excitement for life.

* * * *

Ahndray Rodell! This is crazy! It’s Leone’s little
brother. What the hell is he doing here? How does he
know about this place?

She wanted to jump up, scream at him, run to the river’s edge and have a good laugh at his expense. But she stopped herself and decided to wait a few minutes instead. She crouched lower on her calves and remembered she was in no

hurry tonight. As she bent down, familiar surges between her legs literally seeped into her already 17

The Gypsy King

soaked crotch. Veronique settled in and got comfortable so she could really enjoy herself and her secret discovery.

She watched him swim until she could stand it no longer. Her own heavy breathing in her ears, she saw him indulge himself and began feeling the same need for pleasure. Veronique began by

rubbing herself through her panties, her expert fingers massaged her swelling lips until she could tap her most sensitive areas and hear a light popping sound she was so wet. As she played, she also felt something much stronger than simple curiosity and admiration wash over her. She began to see Leone’s younger brother in a very different light. And it wasn’t just the moon bouncing off his sculpted, rippled body.

Veronique licked her lips and suddenly, Leone crashed into her thoughts! She saw his angry face and felt his rage over what she was doing. Guilt overwhelmed and punished her for her

transgression.

“And he’s right! What the hell am I doing out here? Look at me! I’m bending down in the weeds watching Leone’s younger brother go for a

midnight swim in the Chamois!”

She scolded herself and felt she should be

ashamed. But Veronique didn’t feel shame or guilt at all. She knew exactly what she was doing and she loved it!

“Yes, I’m staring hungrily at my fiancé’s

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Morgan Rush

younger brother’s cock—and what a magnificent beauty he is indeed. And yes, I’m also engaged to his brother, but he’s a royal prick and I will find a way to figure this out, but not tonight, not right now. No, tonight I’m going to let myself take a few minutes and enjoy this treat. I may not solve my problems right now, but soon I’m going to be feeling much, much better.”

She pushed away the barbs of guilt and quieted Leone’s castigating voice in her head, then let her body enjoy its natural lust. In minutes, she was soaked and throbbing again. Veronique tried very hard, but she just couldn’t stop herself from reaching beneath the silk fabric of her panty. She ignored her inner struggles and began instead, struggling with effectively spreading the fine elastic to the side of her aching lips and began rubbing her hood in slow, steady circles. In seconds, she succumbed to the sheer thrill of the moment and shoved one, then two, then three fingers up inside her throbbing slit while kneeling in the dirt and growling, hiding low in the weeds by the river. She arched her back and grinded herself deep and hard.

Her frustration mounted as guilt came crashing back on top of lust, but then her anger managed to wrangle her guilt into a crumpled ball, containing everything she probably should have done in her short life. Veronique threw it into a fire pit she imagined for just this purpose. In a burst of flame 19