Authors: D. T. Jones
The bellboy stepped out first and walked to the door across the elegant hallway, unlocking the knob pushing the door open. Creighton didn’t miss the admiring stare the boy gave Sandra and narrowed his eyes briefly, watching him precede them into the room.
Turning to his wife beside him, Creighton smiled a half grin, sweeping her off her feet and into his embrace as he carried her across the threshold. Sandra had to bite her lip to prevent herself from giggling as he set her on her feet. She glanced around as the stepped out of the bedroom, smiling back at him as he accepted the money Creighton handed him and left without saying a word other than
merci.
“I should have knocked some sense into him, instead of tipping him,” Creighton grumbled as Sandra smiled then turned to look around the room. She knew how he felt, though she never threatened to hurt the women who drooled over him; though she wouldn’t mind it from time to time.
The room was very impressive; typical Creighton-style. He had chosen a suite as opposed to a room and she couldn’t help but shake her head in amusement. Once again proving money spoke volumes. There was a sitting room, a den and a bedroom with a large king sized bed. The bathroom was moderately sized with a jetted tub, hand-held shower and double sinks. Two sets of French doors opened out onto a private terrace that overlooked the gardens below. The décor was a mixture of historical charm and modern accommodations. It was simply an amazing room and she felt giddy thinking of staying here for three whole days.
“You need to change,” he told her gently, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her lips. “I have reservations for you.” Sandra’s eyes widened.
“What kind of reservations?”
“A European spa treatment.”
“Spa?”
“Massage, facial, all those girly things to make you feel feminine and relaxed,” he teased. “Afterward we’ll take advantage of the pool and then have dinner. Tomorrow we’ll go to the hall of mirrors and take a tour of the palace. It’s supposed to stop raining tonight, so perhaps we can see the gardens as well.”
“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” she asked, her arms circling his neck. “I’ve asked you a thousand times to stop spending money and then you do something so romantic and outrageous that I simply cannot possibly find a reason to be angry with you.”
“That’s the purpose of spoiling you,” he assured her. “How else will I make certain you keep coming back to me?”
“Right, like it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I love you, or I’m your wife, or I’m completely and hopelessly addicted to your body?”
“Nope, nothing at all like that.” He smiled, kissed her once again and eased her away from him when things began to get serious. “We don’t have time for this,” he warned, seeing the passion glowing in her eyes. “You have to get ready for your pampering and I have to take a cold shower.” Sandra laughed and watched as he walked into the bedroom, returning a moment later with a large fluffy white bathrobe and a wrapped gift. His smile increased as he handed the box to her, tossing the robe across the back of a chair then leaned against the arm of the sofa as she opened it.
Inside was very delicate wine colored glass bottle about eight inches high with yellow and gold floral design wrapping around it. The top had a glass stopper and the bottom was fluted so it could stand. It looked like a genie bottle and she pulled the top off gently as if expecting one to come out of it in a puff of smoke.
“I pulled up your old television shows on the internet,” he explained. “I particularly liked the one with the genie, so I thought about getting you a lamp of your own. All you have to do is wish, and I will make it come true.”
“I thought genies were supposed to be blue with a schizophrenic personality?” Creighton laughed and pulled her back into his arms.
“That’s what you have,” he assured her. “I am true blue and crazy about you.” He kissed her hard and passionate with the
heat of a promise for more to come, but stopped abruptly when the bell to their door rang. He moved away from her with a heavy sigh and walked to the entrance, adjusting the material of his pants across his growing affection. He glanced across his shoulder to her and smiled as he opened the door.
“Mademoiselle Ashford?” the young woman said as Creighton moved aside. “I am Vedette Fournier. I am here for your treatment.” Sandra smiled, finally someone who spoke English - sort of; at least she could understand her through her thick accent. She glanced from the very attractive brunette with big blue eyes to her husband who smiled as he stepped back to her.
“I need to change,” she said with a smirk, as Vedette began to set up her equipment.
Sandra set the bottle on the table and walked to the bedroom door taking the robe in her hand. She
accidentally
brushed against Creighton’s arousal with her hand as she passed by, smiling sweetly to him. This man was very much an enigma, she thought as she emphasized an exaggerated wiggle, knowing her husband was watching.
Sandra lay across a sheet covered leather table in the middle of their hotel suite, her naked body pink from the vigorous massage, her face stone hard beneath the layer of green mud. She felt more relaxed than she had in weeks and she sighed as Vedette painted her toes. Her nails were a dark red, her skin slippery and smelling like the soft scent of lilacs.
Creighton worked silently in the office, the clicking of the keyboard the only noise he made for the full hour she was having her treatment. Sandra knew he was still frustrated and worried about the farm and Miriam’s cousin, but she was determined to try and make him relax. This was their honeymoon and she did not w
ant the bad memories to interfere with the happier ones of love, passion and romance.
Once her face was washed and Vedette assured her, her nails were dry she sat up and wrapped the sheet around her then slipped easily back into the robe as Vedette repacked her kit of lotions and oils. Sandra’s skin tingled; her feet soft and smooth, feeling as if she was walking on marshmallows as she padded across the soft carpet. The girl, though barely eighteen Sandra suspected, was a wonder with her hands. She felt revitalized and relaxed at the same time and smiled as Creighton stepped out of
the adjoining room as if by a sixth sense. He said something to Vedette in French and handed her a folded paper bill, holding the door open as she stepped out.
“What did you say to her?” Sandra asked when the girl left and they were once again alone.
“I told her you looked beautiful, as usual. Ready for the pool?” she sighed when he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her soft cheek.
“No,” she said honestly. “I want to stay here and make love.”
“Do you now?” he asked, surprise echoing in his deep tone.
“Do you have reservations for the pool?” He shook his head. “Good, then I expect you to take me to bed and make use of this slippery body. I want to be breathless come suppertime.” Creighton erupted in an outburst of laughter, lifting her in his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. He sat her on her feet and quickly moved the blankets to the foot of the large oversized king. It was a sleigh style with a headboard, but no footboard and no posts for tying her down.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his eyes inspecting her expression.
“There’s no posts,” she said quietly.
“So?”
“No way of using your cuffs.” Creighton grinned, kissing her lips softly.
“Then we make up a new game,” he whispered. “This one is called
pleasing each other.
Besides, we have Miriam’s position book, I’m sure we’ll find a few ideas in that.”
“And how do we play this game of yours?” Sandra couldn’t help the butterflies that took flight inside her stomach and smiled as he walked to their luggage, lifting up the famous
kinky kit.
“I teach you to play with your toys and you allow me to watch.”
“That’s not pleasing each other,” she scolded, feeling the blush creep up her neck.
“It will be very pleasing for me to watch you make yourself come. I have wanted to watch you for a very long time. Afterward, I promise to reward you however you desire.”
“I just want you to make love to me. I don’t want to do it myself.” He sat the bag on the foot of the bed and lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb so he was looking into her green eyes.
“I will make love to you, hard and fast just the way you like. But first, you have to play for me. There are no posts for restraining you, so we’ll have to change things up a bit until we get back to the flat. I promise, you won’t regret it and I’ll be right here watching the whole time.”
“Why is this so important to you?” she asked with a frown. “I don’t know anyone who plays with their selves.” Creighton exploded in a deep laughter, causing her blush to deepen.
“You are very naïve my darling,” he assured her with a soft kiss. “I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t relieve themselves. Men or women, orgasm is something that is important to sustain one’s sanity. But tonight, I will allow you to drive me insane and in return I will love you as you wish.”
“You are very perverted,” she whispered as he slid the sash of her robe off and slipped the fluffy fabric down her arms.
“Yes I am, we’ve already made that clear and I am about to bring you over to the dark side and turn you perverted as well; at least for one night.”
Creighton lifted her into his arms and laid her across the mattress, kissing her hard and passionately until she relented and began to play with him; their tongues battling and twisting with the other. She could feel the need rising between them, the heat burning in her blood as he slowly caressed her oil slick body. She began to feel dizzy with need and when he moved aside, she actually found herself moaning with regret.
“I want you to understand your toys better,” he told her in a soft, hushed tone. “I want you to feel free and comfortable with your body so you can love me without restrictions.”
“But I’m bleeding,” she insisted watching his smile increase.
“I’ve already told you, that means nothing to me. Go to the bathroom and take that thing out, but return quickly. I’m losing my patience.” Sandra did as ordered and shut the bathroom door behind her. This was probably the most embarrassing moment of her life; her husband of little less than a
week wanted her to masturbate for his pleasure. What would Cathy say if she knew?
Sandra pulled the string from within her and frowned as she glanced down, letting it fall in the toilet. There was barely any blood on it. That was not the norm for her; she
was typically a heavy bleeder. Perhaps it was the change in altitude or the stress they had been under. Either way, she hoped the flood gates didn’t open when they were making love or swimming in the pool.
Walking back to the bed seemed to take a lifetime. She was nervous, anxious and embarrassed. She had danced for him, she had played with herself for his pleasure, but she had never used the toys; that was his thing and she enjoyed it. Creighton smiled at her apprehension and reached up, taking her hand in his and kissing each finger in turn before pulling her to straddle his hips.
“I like it when you sit like this,” he told her in a wicked grin. “It makes everything I want very accessible.”
“Deviant,” she whispered, receiving a soft slap on the bottom as he rolled her onto the bed beneath him. He pressed against her hard, the firm shaft of his penis caressing her until she moaned.
“Let’s start with your rabbit,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers spreading apart her labia as he caressed her clitoris. Sandra’s eyes closed, reveling in the feel of his hands on her then her eyes opened wide when he wrapped her hand around the hard blue tube of the vibrator. He flipped the switch and smiled as it started buzzing, his large hand holding hers gently around the plastic shaft, pressing it against her lower abdomen. He kissed her cheek, slowly moving to her ear where he bit the lobe gently causing her to moan. He moved her hand with the vibrator further down her oily body to where his initials lay, his lips traveling down her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin.
Sandra started to relax, her hand no longer tensing around the toy, her heart pounding between her ears. She closed her eyes as his mouth moved down to her collarbone tasting the scented oil left behind from her massage. His hand moved hers to caress her labia with the tip of the buzzing object. She couldn’t help it; this was feeling wicked, erotic and she found herself actually enjoying it. Creighton chuckled sensing her slow surrender; his lips and tongue bathing a hot moist path down her chest to the round globes of her breasts. Sandra moaned, allowing him to move her hand until the tip of the vibrator pressed against her wet vagina.
“You do it,” he whispered, releasing her hand. Sandra drew a deep breath and did as she was told, slowly sliding the cylinder inside her tight body. Creighton moved his hand to her opposite breast, his teeth capturing her erect nipple as he sucked it into his mouth. They played for several long moments, the blue toy hidden within her vagina; the ears of the bunny surround her clitoris. Her breathing became labored as she relaxed into the moment. Creighton reached back down between her legs and placed his hand around hers, thrusting the device slowly in and out of her, smiling at the moan that escaped her lips.
“Tease me baby,” he told her in a deep tone. “Show me you don’t need me for your release.” Almost immediately Sandra felt the heat begin to build, the dizzy sensation quickly mounting within her. She began to pant, her lips parted, her eyes closed. His mouth found hers and she moaned into it; their tongues battling, sparring and teasing each other until she tensed beneath him, her mouth breaking free of his, crying out her release. Creighton held her against him, his hand releasing hers as she continued to thrust the vibrator in and out of her, riding the waves of passion, her climax continuing until she was breathless, panting and begging him to stop.