Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Merhaba 7ty.club hikaye okuyucuları birbirinden azdırıcı hikaye arşivini sizlerin beğenisine sunuyoruz okuyun ve ve yorumunuzu bırakın
Sometime in the late summer of the year 1950, owing to a recent and rather messy divorce, a woman and her young daughter moved to the country, to live with the woman’s newfound lover. The woman’s name was Evelyne Castelle, she was thirty-nine years of age, tall, with a buxom figure, that is to say a prominent bosom, wide hips and thighs, and a rump which although sizable was pleasantly shaped and appealing. Her face bore in it the generous traits of her nature, her eyes were wide-set and of a sparkling green, her lips full and lush, and of a rich Burgundy robe, her skin smooth as the lining of a white peach. She was a woman of a bold and carnivorous demeanour, at once seductive and slightly menacing. A voracious lover, whose many sexual appetites were always in demand and actively pursued.
If the woman’s carnality was on constant and evident display, this was in open condradiction with the portrait of her daughter, a young doe of just eighteen years of age, pretty as a lark, with clear, unblemished skin, a slender body, newly budding breasts, dainty hands, and delicate features of the most striking and naive beauty imaginable. Everything about her bore an aura of such childlike innocence that one felt compelled not to view her so much as a lady in bloom but as a debutante utterly ignorant of the charms she possessed. This was most manifestly demonstrated by the way which she moved, alternately awkward and graceful, as if she were in the act of discovering the capacities and limitations of her body. She was shy to a fault, often covering her rosy bud of a mouth as she laughed, although when she omitted this gesture her lips revealed the most exquisite and sparkling display of pure, ivory teeth. At times, when left to herself, she would twirl strands of her long, golden hair inbetween her small fingers, before taking hold of them between the fleshy rouge of her lips, a habit of hers which Evelyne discouraged. This young girl was named Emilie Castelle, and she was the pride of her mother, who had not, even in the apotheose of her youth, possessed such a candid and effervescent comeliness.
If for every beauty there is a Beast, lurking somewhere in the shadows, then in Emilie’s case this opposing creature must most certainly be her mother’s lover – a man of such crass and vile properties that one would have difficulty imagining how he had managed to obtain the graces of a woman as charming as Evelyne. He was a man of rough and ill-hewn proportions. He had dark skin, black eyes, a broad nose and shoulders wide as barrels, hairy oafish forearms, a gut rippled with savage energy, thick legs, a manic laugh and a heathen’s manner to him. He was a magnificent brute, of such ferocity that only Evelyne seemed capable of facing him and rebuffing his sordid, penetrating gaze. His hands were always over her, lascvisiously stroking, snatching and clawing at her pearly skin. Emilie was considerably frightened of him, and in the months after he had become a part of their lives she obstinately refused to exchange even the mildest talk with him. It a feat of considerable bravery on her part if she ventured to steal a timid glance at the bulk of his body, no less to contemplate the dark savagery of his face.
The man’s name was Roberto Manel, and he was of Southern and perhaps Andaluzian origin. Despite his coarse manners and appearences he was educated, well-versed in music and literature. He was fond of eating and drinking and horse-riding, and a great portion of his estate was devoted to the keep of his favorite mares and stallions. He was a wealthy man too, owning a sizable manoir in the Loire Valley, which, in addition to the main manor house also included the aforementioned stables, a small chatêlet, a large and well-tended flower garden, many acres of thick pine woodland, ponds for fishing, kennels with dogs for hunting, a colombier and a marble Folly. He had been married several times before, and all of his wives had abandoned him, in turn, unable to endure the visceral emotions his crude and degenerate lust had reduced them to. He was well known in the voisinage for being an eternal and incorrigable seducteur, preying ruthlessly and without shame upon widows, married women, servant girls, and whatever came within his reach. He was a fearless predator, willing to tackle any woman, no matter how obstinate, of such a base and perverse nature that he seemed wholly above and beyond any morale ataşehir escort or reprimand.
Perhaps, if Evelyne had known him better she might have feared for the safety of her young daughter, but so enthralled was she by the imposing character of her lover, that she turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to whatever villainous attributes he possessed.
In the first week following their arrival at the manor, Roberto conducted himself in an attentive and relatively considerate manner towards her. He inhabitually ignored and spurned whatever other females were about : namely the young mulatto maid who did the washing – a tan Haitien girl who flirted actively with him, when she believed Evelyne was absent. Evelyne had caught her several times in the act of attempting to seduce her lover, and she would have fired the maid, had she not found a certain appeal to the idea of this native girl consumed with lust over her man. Besides the maid, there were other threats to her happiness, the most imminent being their new au pair, a lazy Polish girl of perhaps twenty-one years of age, with a reddish-blonde mane, a sultry walk and lips curled in a perpetual pout. She was a bit dull, lacking in wit or intelligence, and for this reason alone Evelyne kept her on the staff, considering the au pair too stupid to even camouflage a potential affair.
Even if she believed in according these women the benefit of her trust, the truth was she felt herself compromised and slightly threatened by their presence, although she would never admit this, and she responded towards them with a marked hostility that veiled her inquietude. She barked orders at them, night and day, treated both the native maid and the Polish au pair to a variety of enthusiastic insults, of which, due to their foreign natures, they were blissfully uncomprehending. Roberto seemed amused by his wife’s treatment of the servants, and rarely intervened on their behalf, unless it was to issue an order of his own. He was constantly reassuring and soothing his wife’s passions and outburts, treating her as if she were a spoiled child, in need of attention.
In the midst of these charades, Emilie went for the most part unnoticed. She roamed the grounds, on solitary afternoons, while her mother and father-in-law were in the manoir, either arguing or making-up, and she would go to the stables to visit the horses, or she would stroll the woods and bathe her feet in the ponds, or else she would spend long hours alone in her room, re-arranging the contents of her dresser, or studying her slender figure and timid gaze in front of the mirrored-armoire.
One such afternoon, being frightfully bored, she was undressing herself in front of the mirror, preparing to change her tenue for the fourth time that day, when Roberto barged into her room and slammed the door behind him.
Emilie jumped in shock at the sound of the door being slammed, then she recoiled in fright. Roberto had never breached the privacy of her bedroom door before. He appeared angry, his large chest was heaving, the muscles of his jaw and forearms were bunched, his eyes were twitched, his face was red and perspiring.
“That woman,” he said, “Is driving me mad!” He pointed towards the door. He advanced in the room, wheeling around, as if uncertain what his purpose was. Then his stare landed on Emilie, who had nothing on but a loose summer skirt, sandals, and a blouse which she held in front of her naked breasts. His gaze wandered over the uncovered parts of her body, the tiny, freckled shoulders, the bare calves, the slim neck. In the waves of sunlight spilling through the stone-laced windows of her room, her hair and skin were bathed in a sumptuous golden hue.
Sensing the weight of his regard she struggled to compose herself. “What are you… doing?” she ventured timidly. “This is… my room…”
Seeing her distress he relaxed his shoulders, gave her something of an amused smile. “My apologies, young lady, I didn’t mean to intrude. I can see you are – well occupied.”
She blushed scarlet, clutching tighter to her blouse. “Please, leave.”
He held up his broad hands. “You shouldn’t be frightened of me,” he said. “You have no reason to.”
She looked down at the floor, curled her toe at the rug. Swiftly, before she could answer, he had covered the distance between them with three rapid steps and now stood, just a few inches kadıköy escort from her, feeling the warmth of her supple, young body radiate against his, feeling her sweet breath on his bare arms. Her head was just beneath his torso, turned facing to the side, she dared not look at him this close.
Carefully, he stroked the silky hair at the back of her head. His strong fingers slid down her neck and caressed her bare back. She shivered. He leaned close to her ear.
“You are a very beautiful thing,” he whispered. Then he retreated from her room, shutting the door behind him. Only when he was gone from the room, and she had heard his footsteps descending the stairwell did she dare open her eyes. She could still feel the line his fingers had traced on her bare back, and his hand on the nape of her neck. She felt her whole body tingle and flush with a nervous excitement she could not identify. She threw herself onto the covers of her bed, stroking the damask quilt and pillows, trying to react the scene in her fantasy. It was the first time he had ever addressed her directly and what had he done but call her beautiful. It was the first time anybody besides her mother had said that to her.
It was the Polish au pair who first caused Evelyne to irretrievably lose her temper. In the midst of cleaning the salon, the girl had broken an expensive porcelain vase, and then, in her clumsiness cut herself trying to salvage the broken pieces, staining the flair rug with her blood. Evelyne grabbed her by her wounded hand, leading her into the kitchen, where she scolded her on her lack of poise or dexterity. The girl mumbled some inaudible complaint as Evelyne washed her cut hand in the kitchen sink over the dishes. She tried it off with one of the linen dishtowels, then had her hold the towel against the wound while she rummaged in the cupboards for a medical kit, all the while cusing the girl’s stupidity.
When she managed to located the gauze and bandaging tape she turned around to find the poor girl in tears. Feeling slightly guilty her tone of voice softened somewhat.
“Come now, Anna, there is no need for such drama. I’m only asking you to be careful with things – it’s for your own good you know.”
The girl looked up at her mistress, her eyes large and tear-filmed. An eyelash was glued to one of her plump cheeks. She stammered a round of apologies as Evelyne bandaged her hand. Finished with the bandaging Evelyne put a finger to her lips.
“Hush,” she said. “It’s all right. It was only a vase. I don’t hold it against you.”
“You’re very kind,” said the au pair, looking down at the bandaged hand, resting on one of her knees. She was sitting on a chair, at the edge of the kitchen table. Evelyne stood in front of her.
“You may take the afternoon off, if you please,” said Evelyne tersely. “It’s not as if you’ll be much good to anyone in this state.”
The girl nodded humbly. “Thank you, Madame.”
Evelyne waved her off. “Don’t thank me for it. It’s not as if I’m doing you a favor.”
The girl looked at her again, her eyes were clear and honey-colored. She had the prettiest little nose, Evelyne thought. Slightly pointed and upturned. Her bosom was rising and falling rapidly with emotion, and behind the black, buttoned shirt of her maid’s outfit, Evelyne could not help but notice the large, pointed nipples butting through the fabric. She felt suddenly uneasy alone in the kitchen with this girl. The girl was looking at her too in a way she had not seen before. It was as if she were soaking in, through her eyes, the contours of Evelyne’s body.
“You may go now, Anna,” Evelyne said, struggling to keep her voice calm and neutral.
The girl rose from the chair, very slowly, her eyes still locked on Evelyne’s. The tears suddenly evaporated her eyes seemed to sparkle with electricity. She sensed her mistresses uneasiness and a slight smile curled at the corner of her pouty lips.
“If Madame pleases, I will leave,” she said, brushing even closer to her mistress. Evelyne felt the girl’s flank press against her hips, and her belly quivered in excitement. She felt a lump catch in her throat, she couldn’t open her mouth to respond. She felt she must say something, anything, if only to regain her mastery over this insolent girl. But it was impossible for her.
To make matters worse, Anna leaned forward, bostancı escort bayan letting her perky breasts slide directly against Evelyne’s large bosom. She pressed her head forward, until her lips were almost touching Evelyne’s. She breathed slowly and provocatively into Evelyne’s parted mouth.
“Would Madame desire me to leave?” she asked.
“P…please,” stammered Evelyne.
The Polish tart smiled, and in one swift, sure movement had placed a hand firmly on Evelyne’s firm, luxurious bottom. She slid her hand around the curve of the buttock, directly to the crease, letting it linger there, as Evelyne gasped in surprise. Then she issued a few mild patts on her mistresses derrière.
“It’s all right,” she said, tickling Evelyne’s earlobe with her sweet, perfumed breath. “It’s only an ass – I don’t hold it against you.”
And then she withdrew and left the kitchen, swaggering triumphantly as she walked, leaving Evelyne breathless behind her.
The encounter with the au pair, had stirred Evelyne’s imagination and excitement to such a degree that that same evening, after dinner, she threw herself upon Roberto with a voracious passion that surpassed any of their former ébats. He reacted avidly, stripping her bit by bit, tearing off her black lace undergarments, the bustier, the porte-jartelle, and throwing her, naked as an infant, onto the wide, masterbed, where he promptly proceeded to run his hands and tongue over the insides of her thighs, her smooth belly, the undersides of her massive breasts, which when exposed, fell each slightly to the side under their substantial weight. He mashed her breasts together and licked the aura of her nipples as she groaned in pleasure. He tore off his own clothing, and pressed his naked body against hers, his male member ripe and massively swollen. He attacked her mouth greedily, sucking at her lips and tongue, as she responded with muted expressions of desire.
Her hands were on him too, feeling the outlines of his broad shoulders, stroking the back of his thick neck, running down his sides, over his ribcage, down the hairlined navel –
He fell back onto the bed and she went on all fours, presenting her splendid buttocks to him as she arched her back inwards. Her cunt was sopping and exposed, glistening with a clear sheen. He slid a finger around the swell of her Venus, then pressed it lightly against her tender asshole.
Unable to contain herself further, she let out a series of loud, unabashed gasps. She ran her hand from his navel straight to his bulging testicles, squeezing them, then she grabbed hold of the base of his cock, which rose in a slightly curving arc, both of her hands, one atop the other, barely covering it halfway, and she held it tight and ran her red tongue all the way up the lengthy shaft and when she got to the helmet she sucked it into her wet mouth, voraciously, salivating over the flesh of it as she struggled to accomadate it in her mouth.
When she had licked and sucked his cock until she was near short of breath, she withdrew it from her mouth, with a sucking pop, bent the entire thing back against his navel and licked his swollen glands, savoring the feel and the smell of them.
He reached over, pulled her back by the hair of her head, got to his knees on the bed and pushed her forward, in front of him. He pushed her head down, deep into the bed, her struggling for breath, and he grabbed her ass with both hands, one on either cheek, and pulled them apart. Then he mounted her from behind, pushing his enormous cock into her cunt, entering the entire length in two or three insistent motions. She nearly screamed as he pounded against her, his cock sliding on a wet film, abusing her inner walls. He fucked her hard in this position, gripping her hips, her shoulders, his hands around her throat, and then suddenly, without warning, he withdrew from her wet and abused cunt and pressed the swollen head of his glans against her asshole.
“No… not there!” she gasped.
Ignoring her he proceeded to push it in, overcoming the initial resistance easily, defeating her sphincter as her ass stretched to accomadate him. He worked it in halfway, held it there, then continued his pursual, with each thrust gaining a half inch of terrain, until at last, her defenses shattered, and he ran his cock in her ass all the way to the hilt – he kept on after this, pulling it out, smacking it against the smooth orbs of her ass, running it back in her widening asshole and then at last he withdrew and came in great sticky jets over her, over her back, her ass, and then turned her over and came on her breasts and in her open mouth –
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32