Delicious Pain - a BDSM Collection Read Online Free
Author: Portia Da Costa
Tags: General Fiction
Treasures
"Now don't go crazy. Remember we're supposed to be economizing."
Alice Porter quivered. Why did it turn her on so when her husband pretended to be stern with her like this? Julian gave her a wink and a cool kiss on the cheek as they were about to part at the entrance to the flea market, and it was all she could do not to grab him and drag him back to the car to make out.
"I know, I know. I'll be careful." She grinned at him, defiant. He knew she was only paying lip service to his instructions, and the way his blue eyes narrowed made her heart leap and her pussy flutter. This morning, in bed, he'd been ferocious. Deliciously loving, but all power, all command.
We should have stayed at home, in bed.
As Julian walked away, no doubt heading for the militaria and the vintage engineering items, she watched his fine ass and his long legs in narrow blue jeans recede into the distance, and she wished she was beneath him, between the sheets.
Trying to distract herself, Alice focused on the market. It was a fabulous one, the largest and the most tempting they'd visited in ages. Stall after stall was crammed with second hand clothes, crafts, records, and most of all bric-a-brac; a positive cornucopia of hand-me-down treasures, some genuinely antique and some quite modern.
She and Julian never wanted to look at the same things, so it was much better for mutual harmony if they split up and each explored and scrounged alone. He was a swift and decisive chooser; she liked to linger and ponder. It was no use sticking together and losing patience with one another.
After a few minutes wandering around, Alice discovered a treasure trove. What seemed to be the entire contents of a genuine Edwardian household, spread across several tables. For once, she found herself completely forgetting her lustful thoughts about her husband. There was so much in the hoard that she wanted to examine, and a lot she desperately wanted to buy. But Julian would go nuts if she splurged on everything she fancied. He wasn't miserly; he would probably come back laden with his own fair share of purchases. But he wasn't the wild spender that she was, not by a mile.
Deciding not to worry about her husband's possible reactions, Alice plunged in eagerly amongst the delightful vintage hoard.
The first thing she lit upon as must-buys were a couple of pretty gilt picture frames, perfect for their old-fashioned kitchen dresser. There were still photographs in them, and they looked as bygone as the rest of items on display. Were they genuine Edwardian? It seemed so, judging by the clothes and the faded quality of the prints. One depicted a very proper looking gentleman, standing straight and four square, his eyes level and direct as he stared into the camera. He was holding a walking stick clutched firmly in his right hand.
Or is it a walking stick?
Alice peered more closely. No, perhaps it wasn't. The stick didn't look sturdy enough to bear much weight. In fact it look much too slim and whippy for that, more like a lightweight rattan cane, the sort used by an old-fashioned schoolmaster to dish out daily punishments to lazy and intransigent pupils.
Crikey!
The idea of the Edwardian gentleman's cane being used for such a purpose made Alice's insides quiver again, the feeling much like the urges she'd felt when she'd been thinking about Julian fucking her, not ten minutes ago. Her face felt very hot all of a sudden, and in the pit of her belly a familiar ache gathered.
What on earth is the matter with me? Have I turned kinky?
In her mind, she pictured a pretty young woman, maybe someone much like herself, bent over and showing her bloomers to the stern gentleman in the photograph. Or perhaps showing him a good deal more than her bloomers? What would it be like to be that young woman, presenting her pale, bare bottom for chastisement with that cane? The image morphed again, and suddenly it was Julian she saw in dapper Edwardian dress, swishing the cane
"Now don't go crazy. Remember we're supposed to be economizing."
Alice Porter quivered. Why did it turn her on so when her husband pretended to be stern with her like this? Julian gave her a wink and a cool kiss on the cheek as they were about to part at the entrance to the flea market, and it was all she could do not to grab him and drag him back to the car to make out.
"I know, I know. I'll be careful." She grinned at him, defiant. He knew she was only paying lip service to his instructions, and the way his blue eyes narrowed made her heart leap and her pussy flutter. This morning, in bed, he'd been ferocious. Deliciously loving, but all power, all command.
We should have stayed at home, in bed.
As Julian walked away, no doubt heading for the militaria and the vintage engineering items, she watched his fine ass and his long legs in narrow blue jeans recede into the distance, and she wished she was beneath him, between the sheets.
Trying to distract herself, Alice focused on the market. It was a fabulous one, the largest and the most tempting they'd visited in ages. Stall after stall was crammed with second hand clothes, crafts, records, and most of all bric-a-brac; a positive cornucopia of hand-me-down treasures, some genuinely antique and some quite modern.
She and Julian never wanted to look at the same things, so it was much better for mutual harmony if they split up and each explored and scrounged alone. He was a swift and decisive chooser; she liked to linger and ponder. It was no use sticking together and losing patience with one another.
After a few minutes wandering around, Alice discovered a treasure trove. What seemed to be the entire contents of a genuine Edwardian household, spread across several tables. For once, she found herself completely forgetting her lustful thoughts about her husband. There was so much in the hoard that she wanted to examine, and a lot she desperately wanted to buy. But Julian would go nuts if she splurged on everything she fancied. He wasn't miserly; he would probably come back laden with his own fair share of purchases. But he wasn't the wild spender that she was, not by a mile.
Deciding not to worry about her husband's possible reactions, Alice plunged in eagerly amongst the delightful vintage hoard.
The first thing she lit upon as must-buys were a couple of pretty gilt picture frames, perfect for their old-fashioned kitchen dresser. There were still photographs in them, and they looked as bygone as the rest of items on display. Were they genuine Edwardian? It seemed so, judging by the clothes and the faded quality of the prints. One depicted a very proper looking gentleman, standing straight and four square, his eyes level and direct as he stared into the camera. He was holding a walking stick clutched firmly in his right hand.
Or is it a walking stick?
Alice peered more closely. No, perhaps it wasn't. The stick didn't look sturdy enough to bear much weight. In fact it look much too slim and whippy for that, more like a lightweight rattan cane, the sort used by an old-fashioned schoolmaster to dish out daily punishments to lazy and intransigent pupils.
Crikey!
The idea of the Edwardian gentleman's cane being used for such a purpose made Alice's insides quiver again, the feeling much like the urges she'd felt when she'd been thinking about Julian fucking her, not ten minutes ago. Her face felt very hot all of a sudden, and in the pit of her belly a familiar ache gathered.
What on earth is the matter with me? Have I turned kinky?
In her mind, she pictured a pretty young woman, maybe someone much like herself, bent over and showing her bloomers to the stern gentleman in the photograph. Or perhaps showing him a good deal more than her bloomers? What would it be like to be that young woman, presenting her pale, bare bottom for chastisement with that cane? The image morphed again, and suddenly it was Julian she saw in dapper Edwardian dress, swishing the cane
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