The Amorous Agatha Christie 02

"Good for you, Major."

As she sat on the edge of her bed a shadow grew larger as a tall silhouette blocked out her view.

"Signora?"

With his sexy cat-like grace, the Italian heartthrob stood before in all his naked glory. His muscular physique was all the more impressive up close, not to mention his imposing manhood which poked up out of his trimmed-back groin.

"Mister Valentino?"

"Baciami."

Agatha was speechless as his wide eyes bored into hers. It was as if he had mesmerised her as he stood with his hands on his hips and nodded to his burgeoning erection.

"Kiss. That?"

"Si."

He gave her a flirtatious grin, and Agatha leaned forward and landed a smacker on his bloated bell end. It wasn't just the way that he looked at her when she reached out to grip rock-hard cock, nor his renowned handsome smoulder that made her pussy quite positively throb, but it was how her heightened senses allowed her to savour the aromas and musky scent of his beautiful bared bod. As he did with thousands of captivated females who flocked to the cinema to see him on the silver screen, he unleashed the primal woman inside her.

"Ummm!"

The besotted author savoured the unique opportunity and clamped her lips around his silky smooth shaft and sucked half of his length into her mouth. After she had wetted his pulsating stalk, he teasingly ran her tongue along the underside of his stiff cock, leaving both the tip and shaft with saliva. The masculine scent of his unfettered loins made her nostrils flare as she gamely took him deeper into her throat, burying her nose against his crotch. The feel of him fully inside her drooling mouth drove her wild with lust and daring.

"Uhngh!"

She grabbed onto his dreamy backside and felt his buttocks clenching sporadically as her head bobbed up and down in a hands-free blowjob. Valentino responded by holding her head and ramming his dick down her throat. Christie gagged as she engulfed his entire shaft. He forcefully nodded her head back and forth on his rigid log, and her mouth ran down her chin in a slow-moving trickle of spit.

"Stupendo!"

With his knees pressed into the bed on either side of her trim body he pushed forward with his pelvis so that his bulbous cock head hit the back of her throat repeatedly.

"Gagh!"

Her lips pursed and his shaft dragged past them, wetting them until they shone in the flickering light of the candles. He shifted his weight and drove his hips forward and face fucked the famed English writer with swift strokes. The wanton redhead felt dirty and depraved. And she loved it!

Her eyelids fluttered in eager anticipation of the actor's cum. She craved that moment when he would groan, signifying the beginning of his orgasm. That moment when his cock would start to pulsate between her lips and she would swallow mouthful after mouthful and just keep on sucking until she had drained his balls of every last drop he had to give.

"Ho!"

Valentino pulled her head into his crotch and held her there in firm hands as he ejaculated, sending streams of his thick cum into her mouth and directly down her gullet. Agatha snorted and her nose made snot bubbles as she gulped down his load. When he was spent, he relinquished his grip and his dribbling cock was released from the vacuum of her wide-open mouth.

With strong hands, he pulled her up by her arms and then he pushed her onto the bed. Without a word, he parted her legs wide in front of him to expose her swollen mound. Again, it was the way he gazed longingly at her with half-lidded eyes that made her loins throb.

"Bellissimo."

Agatha gulped back cum in her throat as her cunt was given one very long and slow lick. Then he widened her lithe pins as he used his flattened tongue to slip and slide between her upper thighs. He kissed and licked her swollen folds over and over, making the insides of her legs and labia sticky with spit. The world's greatest lover instinctually knew how to please a woman as he lovingly treated her quim to a thorough licking.

"Right...there!"

And when he inevitably moved onto her clit, Agatha was so turned on that even the merest attention was going to bring her to climax. His nimble tonguing teased her sensitive clitoris hood to expose her tiny button which he kissed and nibbled on endlessly. As he sucked harder, Christie clamped her legs to the sides of his head as she cried out in ecstasy. Her cunt squirted juices in his face as she came with spasm after spasm. She rolled onto her side as he rose and vanished from her sight.

"Splendid!" Ma announced as she stood up naked from the waist down. "What spiffing fun! Thank you all for coming. Pun intended! There are adequate toilet facilities through the door at the far end of the room."

Timothy joined Agatha with a big grin. He was still in the buff and his dick hung limp but at peace between his legs.

"Well, old thing. How about that? A jolly good ravishing by the Sheik himself! What good sport. You must be thrilled."

"Stuff and nonsense, my man."

"What?"

"You didn't really think that was Rudolph Valentino, did you? Or Chanel, Bankhead, and Stravinsky? They were all paid lookalikes. Hired for sexual titillation just like the concubines were."

"Are you quite certain? They seemed like the genuine article to me."

"I merely used the little grey cells. The clues are all there if you look. Stravinsky a sniveling submissive who likes to wear baby nappies? Ridiculous. Coco Chanel is at least two inches too taller than the real fashion icon. Tallulah Bankhead? Never. She spoke of a holiday when she would have used the American word vacation. She's no more of a Yank than I am. Josephine Baker conversed in a French accent whereas she was born and bred in St. Louis Missouri. From what I gather, unless she learned French in the United States I doubt that she would pick up the language and accent in the space of a few weeks. As for the world's greatest lover, he was bereft of a foreskin, when it's a well-known fact that the great majority of Italian males are not circumcised. I suspect he is an Englishman as well."

"Good lord! How very astute of you. How did you know all about them in such detail?"

"I read the newspapers, dear boy."

"Is that all?"

"Really. I have no gifts, except perhaps a certain knowledge of all the sex positions. Order and method is all."

"Hold on. What about Plunket and Ponsonby?"

"The real thing. They are known to frequent the club regularly. Same as Waugh, Cecil Beaton, Nancy Mitford, and other like-minded bright young things."

"Good. They were both rather gagging for it. Still, it was a jolly good romp. How many orgasms did you have?"

"Numerous, Major. Numerous."

Agatha settled back in the seat of the car with a satisfied grin. What a jolly good romp indeed!"

END