Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 15

Author's note:

Chapter 15 continues the story of Ezra's sister, Danielle, and follows on from chapter 12, which ends with Danielle and her fiance, Roger, going to her parents' home for their wedding.

*****

1 Australia

Danielle Goldrick and Roger Harcourt were married in a short formal ceremony at the Goldrick family estate on the coast about twenty miles north of Perth, Australia.

Sixty doting family members and close friends watched the couple make their vows under a white canopy on a hill with a view of the blue-green ocean, criss-crossed by white-tipped waves. It was a cool June day. An east wind brought the smell of the sea and lightly fluttered the ladies' dresses but was more of a relief than a nuisance.

The groom was traditionally nervous in his top hat and morning coat. The bride was radiant and beautiful in a white and cream wedding-dress with gold cross-stitching; a dress hundreds of years out-of-date and therefore timeless and perfect.

The wedding party returned to a marquee on the lawn for dinner and embarrassing speeches. Mostly embarrassing. Roger's speech touched on a solemn note when he remembered Danielle's brother, Ezra, who was necessarily absent. They drank to his health and the hope of a safe return.

After the speeches, a string band played waltzes and the racier numbers of the Nineteenth Century for those guests not too replete from a sumptuous dinner to dance. Still in her wedding dress, the bride stood up with her new husband, her father-in-law and her own father. Then she changed into a red party frock and danced with all her other male relatives, her husband's relatives, even the best man. She loved dancing and by eight o'clock, with the party in full swing, returned to claim her husband for the rest of the night.

Although Roger didn't dance very well, he knew how to hold his wife and sway in rhythm. Danielle had always meant to correct this major failing but never seemed to have the time: now she had the rest of their lives together to teach him to dance properly.

Content to hold him around the neck and gaze adoringly up at his face, Danielle let the tingling excitement and unexpected butterflies of the day gently drift away. She rejoiced in a sense of satisfaction that it went so well - not that she expected anything else, with her mother in charge.

Mariotta Goldrick, the famed society beauty and perfect hostess, a vision in a powder-blue dress and white stilettos, effortlessly ensured that no guest lacked food, conversation or a dancing-partner. She supplied her parents and older relatives with brandy and charmed two of her grand-nephews away from the bar and onto the dance-floor, to escort Roger's younger sisters. Finally she turned her attention to bride and groom.

"Come on you two," she commanded. "Eight o'clock: time for bed. Off you go."

"We're happy here, Mum," Danielle said, gazing up at Roger.

"You'll be even happier in bed. Go on. And stay there! I don't want to see either of you for three days. (You can come out tomorrow afternoon to say goodbye to everyone)," she graciously allowed.

"Well, fresh new husband," Danielle said, "are you going to stand up to your mother-in-law?"

"I don't think I dare, Darling. Your mother's very intimidating."

"Nonsense, Roger," Mariotta insisted. "I'm a lamb. Everyone knows that. And, by the way, if my daughter can walk straight or sit comfortably, I'll send you back to do it to her again properly."

Just then, Nathan Goldrick arrived with a glass of champagne for his wife.

"Really, my love," he said, "I'm sure the young people can arrange their bedroom matters for themselves."

"Bedroom matters, forsooth! My dear husband, you weren't always such a prude. Children, shall I tell you what my Lord and Master did to me on the very day we met?"

"Oh, Mother!" Danielle exclaimed, as the seasoned diplomat himself kept a diplomatic silence.

"All right," Mariotta said with determination. "I'll whisper it to my handsome new son-in-law."

She did so.

"That was not very diplomatic behaviour, Sir!" Roger said, sounding shocked.

"My dear boy," Nathan replied, "I have no idea what my flighty wife told you: she changes her stories every time she tells them. ... However, if you are minded to take Mariotta's advice, then I give you my congratulations a final time and wish you both a very good night."

He kissed his daughter on the forehead and shook hands with Roger.

Everything considered, it seemed a good idea to start their rounds of thanks and goodnights. With Mariotta in charge, however, the valedictions were short. She bustled the lovers quickly and efficiently to the secluded lodge-house, a five-minute walk from the main house, where they were spending their wedding-night.

"You'll find everything you need indoors and I'll have food and fresh linen delivered to the pantry."

"Oh, Mum!"

But Mariotta was serious. She kissed their cheeks and whispered a final instruction to Roger, then she pushed them inside and shut the door, regretting only she couldn't lock it from the outside.

In the bedroom, the newly-weds took off their shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, holding hands, breathing quickly, taking in the reality.

"We did it!" Roger said.

"We surely did. You composed yourself very well, husband."

"As did you, wife. You were beautiful, radiant, perfect."

"You were pretty handsome yourself, tuckered up like a grey penguin."

He pulled her to him and they kissed. She climbed onto his lap.

"What scandalous story did my mother tell you?" Danielle asked.

"Are you sure you want to know? Some children never recover from learning that their parents had sex."

"I think I can take it, though spare me the grisly details, if there are any."

He told her.

"Ooh! Ooh!," she pushed herself away. "Grisly details!"

"Sorry, Darling. I'll spare you the rest. ..."

She settled back into his lap.

"I've been meaning to ask this for ages," he said. "How come your father is such a successful diplomat when his wife is so deliciously indiscreet?"

"Ha! You think there's a contradiction? Dad's successful because Mum's so indiscreet. It's all an act: she reveals some trivial secret to put people at their ease and make them want to be less guarded in return."

"Very clever. It helps him, I suppose, that the diplomacy game is still heavily skewed toward men and most men fall instantly in love with Mariotta."

"Yes, that helps. It's the irresistibility gene: all the Goldrick women have it."

"I knew you had some kind of power over me. I thought it was drugs."

"Drugs are unreliable: the irresistibility gene is more certain."

"Certain enough to keep us confined to this bedroom for three days, as per your mother's orders?"

"Well, we can try, though I don't think she can stop us going for a walk outside."

"Actually, Mariotta's last piece of advice to me catered for that."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She said that, if you wanted to leave, I should tie you to the bed."

"Ooh! Well, go on then."

"Maybe I will, though you don't want to leave yet, do you?"

She immediately got up and walked to the door. He jumped up to catch her and held her but she struggled, laughing, inching toward the door. He lifted her up and placed her back on the bed. She leapt up again and ran for the door. He grabbed her again and, this time, as she struggled in his arms, he plonked her on the bed and lay on her, trapping her under him.

"Now stay put," he ordered. "Didn't you just vow to obey me?"

"Certainly not! I vowed to laugh at your jokes, even when they're not funny, and to fake an orgasm every so often just to keep you happy. I never said 'obey'."

"Not funny? When are my jokes not funny?"

She laughed and pulled him down to kiss him.

Getting into it, she turned them over to go on top and used his body to push herself up; then she sprinted for the door a third time (though slow enough to give him a good chance to catch her).

"All right," he said, his arms around her waist, pulling her back to the bed. "Mariotta's rules!"

She lay on her front on the bed, laughing hard. He knelt over her, searching for something to restrain her with. He decided on a pillow case and shook out its pillow, grabbed her arms and knotted her wrists together. With another pillow case, he tied her ankles. Then he pushed her onto her side in the middle of the bed.

"Stay there, wife, while I find something better to tie you up with."

She looked at him saying nothing, her eyes shining, an expectant hungry smile on her lips.

He pushed her blonde hair from her cheek and kissed her, then he slapped her bottom ("Ooh!" she exclaimed) and went to hunt in the drawers and cupboards for a large soft blanket, which he took to the kitchen. With a pair of scissors, he cut the blanket into strips.

It was a complex procedure, keeping Danielle still while undressing her, removing the restraints and tying her up properly. Of course she struggled, laughing and squirming, even trying to bite, giving him just enough trouble to want to gag and blindfold her.

Finally he got her in the position he wanted, spread-eagle on the bed, naked except for her white stockings and suspender-belt, her wrists and ankles tied to the corner posts, her bra loosened and pulled down her chest, releasing her big juicy tits with the pert toothsome pink nipples.

He left her there, breathing quickly, anticipating, loving her wedding night so far. Normally so independent, so much in control, she relished giving up power to her new husband, longing for him to take possession. The soft blanket strip covering her eyes, another strip gagging her mouth, made her concentrate on her predicament. She took shallow breaths and tried not to relax.

Roger stripped and lay on her. He started on her neck, kissing, flicking her throat with his tongue, taking small nibbles, working down to her shoulders. She enjoyed it too much to put up any resistance at first, but she began squirming again, just for show. She was already aroused and beginning to ache for his cock in her.

He got to her tits. She loved when he adored her nipples, which had just the right sensitivity to be a big turn-on when he sucked and nibbled but not enough to give her pain or want him to stop. The sensation went straight to her pussy, where the tap opened. She arched her back and held her breath.

He didn't leave her breasts until they had been properly worked over, sucked and licked in all the right places: the sensitive underside between ribs and nipples; the valley between; and the large pink nipples themselves, hard and aching to be squeezed and sucked. He left tooth-marks.

Then he kissed down her belly to her thighs. Slowly and gently, he rolled her stockings down to her ankles, kissing the bare flesh as it was revealed. He went as slowly as he could, to tease and frustrate her, finally reaching her wet pussy, where he languished for an hour, loving her with his tongue.

Danielle bucked and moaned. Her muffled note rose and fell as the warm and nervy tingling spread about her body; sometimes tense, sometimes intense, always a kind of fizzing joy that numbed her mind as she rose in her dark self-contained world to a series of pretty little orgasms. She shook and gasped as Roger sucked on her clit and lashed it with his tongue.

He licked the alphabet on her pussy, then - showing off as a historian - licked the Greek, Cyrillic and Hebrew alphabets as well. She moaned sweetly and came many times, biting on her gag, her juices wetting his chin. Finally, it was his turn.

He stripped off the last of his clothes, lay on her, pulled off her gag and pressed his mouth on hers. She sucked his tongue into her mouth as he stuffed his stiff cock into her. She hummed her approval as he began ramming her. But it was six weeks since they'd had sex and he couldn't last long. After a dozen hard strokes, he felt the liquid sensation, then the urgent, almost painful, joy at the head of his cock, and finally the relieving spasm as he spurted his seed deep inside her.

He grunted and lay heavily on her as the ecstatic feeling ebbed away.

Still in her dark world, eyes tight shut under the blindfold, Danielle felt content and satisfied. She clung on to him when he undid her bonds, unwilling to let him go, hanging around his neck. He carried her to the shower, which they used together, drying off with a hot air blast; then he carried her back to the bed. They lay together, resting, glowing, laughing a little.

"You know, husband, I thought married sex was supposed to be boring and samey."

"I'm sorry. I promise to be more boring next time."

"Don't you dare! ... So when is 'next time'?"

"Soon, I need to recover."

"I'm ready now. ... Come on, Roger, it's not polite to make a lady wait."

She climbed on him and began kissing his chest. He quickly began to recover and ran a hand through her hair.

"Tie me up again, please?" she said.

"As my lady desires."

He tied her wrists together behind her back and helped her to kneel beside the bed. He put the blindfold back on but left off the gag.

"Open up," he said.

She obediently opened her mouth, eager to be commanded. He pushed his cock into her mouth and she sucked it with relish until it was hard again.

Restrained, controlled and vulnerable though she was, while Danielle had his cock in her mouth, she felt she was the one with the power, the power to give him heavenly pleasure and make him groan.

Fully hard, he withdrew and helped her stand. He gagged her again and guided her forward onto the bed, kneeling with her arse up, her knees spread, her face in a pillow. He spanked her round buttocks a few times, which kept her in her subjugated mood, then he knelt behind and pressed his cock against her wet and ready slit.

She moaned sweetly as he pushed his cock in and began thrusting. He held her hips and she did what she could without the use of her arms to buck against him.

He thrust slowly with long strokes, pulling out and ramming back in. She moaned loudly, despite the gag, loving the friction. After a while, he began to go faster. Her moans rose in pitch and were interspersed with gasps as she sucked air in past her gag.

Grabbing a tit in one had and tugging her head back by her hair, he rammed her harder, bringing her to the edge of a climax. She arched her back and moaned sweetly.

He reached around and rubbed his fingers sideways over her clit. She tipped over the edge, crying out with joy. Climaxing hard, Danielle felt waves of pleasure flow upward through her belly to her breasts and throat and downward to her thighs. More orgasms quickly engulfed her senses, as her back hunched and relaxed. Her thighs shook and she felt the tension even in her toes. Her body rocked with spasms of pleasure.

Swept away by her sexual response, Roger could no longer hold off his own release. Her spasmodic convulsions drew out his orgasm. He held her tightly around the waist as he spurted his load deeply into her wet cleft.

After he'd untied her, she rolled over and laid on him. He held her tightly, stroking her back. They shared that delicious moment of coming down together from a mutual high, breath returning to normal, heart-beat slowing, heat suffusing. They rested some time, then Danielle said:

"Ready to go again?"

"You're kidding?"

"Not man enough for me?"

"No one could be; but I suppose it's my duty, now we're hitched."

"That's right, it's a husband's duty to please his wife."

"So what's a wife's duty to her husband."

"To let him please her."

"That sounds fair."

"Doesn't it? Come on ... do your duty, nice and hard!"

It was early in the morning when Roger gamely began to do his duty for the third time that night. At the same time, the party finally wound down. The relatives had rooms in the main house, the guests were sent to hotels in taxis and Nathan and Mariotta Goldrick at last went to bed.

"I'm very happy with our son-in-law," Nathan said, unzipping his wife's dress and helping her step elegantly out of it.

"You should be. I chose well for Danielle: Roger has lots of potential."

"Potential? I'd say he's pretty accomplished already."

"Nonsense, Darling: a man isn't fully developed until a woman has licked him into shape."

Nathan paused.

"Why did you say 'you' chose well?"

"Well of course I wouldn't let Danielle decide for herself."

"She asked your opinion?"

"Naturally. A daughter needs her mother's advice."

"Frankly, I can't imagine Danielle not deciding for herself."

"Really, Nat? However sure of her own mind she may seem, a young woman's not fit to make such an important decision. It takes a wiser and older head."

"Danielle is twenty-nine!"

"Exactly! Not yet thirty. I wouldn't let the fate of our grandchildren be decided by the romantic notions of a child."

Nathan Goldrick knew his wife and daughter to be vital, intelligent and strong-minded women (for all Mariotta's pose as a dutiful diplomatic spouse) and he had the strongest doubts possible that Danielle allowed Mariotta to decide her choice of man. He went along with the fiction, none the less.

"So what made you choose Roger?"

"He wasn't an astronaut or a footballer."

"Very sensible criteria, my love. Anything else in his favour?"

"Yes, he's got a steady job but isn't rich. He's moderately good-looking but not too attractive. He's honest, fair, traditional, manly, liberal and good with his tongue."

"Good with his tongue? You mean sex, don't you, not conversation?"

She raised a sculpted eye-brow.

"Of course you do," he smiled. "How did you learn that?"

"From Danielle, of course. It was the first thing I asked when she told me they'd slept together."

"The first thing?"

"Certainly. If he's going to be the life-companion of my daughter, Roger needs to keep her happy in bed and, as you know, confidence, consideration and a good tongue are three parts of a good lover."

Nathan had nothing to add. He was himself traditional enough not to want to discuss his daughter's bedroom matters any further. He thanked God that no one had told him when Danielle and Roger had first slept together. Yet it reminded him of something from earlier that evening.

"So what did you tell Roger about our first time together?"

"I told him how you shagged me up the arse under the stairs in my Dad's house when we were supposed to be playing tennis."

They were eighteen and had just finished high-school. Their fathers had recently met and were arranging a business deal. With nothing to do on a hot summer's day, Nathan had accompanied his father. The plan was for him to play tennis with Mariotta in the local park but they never got there. They never made it out of the house.

"You were very confident and gave me no choice," she said, sitting on the bed, smiling at the happy memory as she rolled a sheer stocking down a long fashionable leg.

"Darling," Nathan protested. "I recall that you seduced me."

"Memory will play tricks, especially on the elderly. You were definitely the driving force, Nat, and I was too young and naive to resist."

"My beautiful Darling, you were young - you still are - but you were never naive."

She patted his cheek.

"You're sweet, but a woman who's just married off her daughter can no longer maintain any pretensions to being young. No," she concluded with an ornamental sigh. "I must begin to grow old with grace."

There was no chance of Mariotta ever doing that. Aged seventy, after two rejuvenation treatments she looked forty and was still one of the most compelling women on the social scene.

As for Nathan: though he'd tried to resist his wife's demands, he'd also endured a rejuvenation treatment for her sake and now passed for a vigorous fifty-five. Stocky and shorter than his voluptuous wife, he had distinguished grey hair, a strong jaw and intelligent dark-blue eyes. A boxer's nose gave him a pugnacious look but his character was open and he was capable of as much natural charm as Mariotta, mediated by his most attractive feature, a golden baritone voice.