A New York Haunting: Pt. 11

"I already swallowed it, Mr. Røkke," replied she in a solemn voice, pushing a lock of hair back from her face. "Is - is that considered bad manners?"

Shaking his head, he caught her hands and pulled her to her feet, her teats bouncing with the brisk motion. Mesmerized, he watched the tip of her tongue curl over her upper lip to collect a wayward pearl.

She swallowed. "I shan't experience ill-effects, shall I?"

"Not compared to arsenic," he managed to croak. Emotion overwhelmed him. Even with Simone, who had first 'smoked his cigar', he had not ejaculated in her mouth. He wanted to take Ondine in his arms and cover her face with kisses. But, thwarted by the reminder of the ongoing 'experiment', his amorous impulse was transmuted into a simple grasping of her waist and lifting her onto the side of the tall bed.

She sat with her knees pressed together, looking at him. How could she be so composed when his heart was bursting? Dispassionately uttering Mr. Røkke when a moment before, those same lips had been sliding up and down his cock? Did Ondine even know his given name?

Anders searched the girl's face as he stood before her. Was she in truth so composed? Or was her outward poise simply the result of years of lessons in social comportment?

Smoothing her disheveled hair, she divided the heavy mass into two bundles, bringing them forward where they draped over her chest, the curling ends resting in her lap. Although appearing nonchalant, the resulting concealment of her charms hinted at her embarrassment. Moreover, her alert eyes were studying him with something more than a polite regard --- indeed, they moved over his nakedness with a candid curiosity.

"Do we now proceed with the conventional marital relations?" she asked.

He couldn't help smiling at her inquisitiveness. "I am eager to serve you so, but not being possessed of the supernatural copulatory powers of the ghost, I'll need a few minutes more to recover my forces."

"Oh." She seemed to be puzzling over that.

Clearing his throat, he sat on the edge of the mattress next to her --- alas prompting her to scoot backwards to the middle of the bed. Sitting cross-legged, she reached for the bedcovers and pulled them over her body, holding them up to her neck with both hands. Anders turned towards her, stretching a helping hand to free the trapped bedding from the mattress corner.

Ondine adjusted the fabric folds around her legs. "I gather what you --- umm --- what just happened was the act of 'spending'?"

He nodded.

"I must confess your description of it that evening in the park did not quite prepare me for the forceful actuality."

"I'm sorry for any alarm my ... erm ... orgasm occasioned you." Although earnest, he adopted a tone of rueful humor, rubbing his chin. "It was a difficult thing to describe in a gentleman-like fashion."

Fortunately, a little smile appeared on her face. "Yes, I suppose so." Then her expression grew quizzical. "But you also referred to it as a 'crisis of bliss'. I'm at a loss to understand that appellation. To judge by your countenance, I was inflicting a terrible anguish upon you."

Anders grinned. "You were --- the sweetest, most splendid anguish ever."

"If that was pleasure, Mr. Røkke, I'd hate to see you in pain."

"But you have --- that day on the tower."

Ondine looked museful. "But after the initial attack, even with a knife embedded in your arm, you were the very picture of stoicism --- daffy stoicism perhaps."

"Any daffiness can be attributed to the acute blood loss." He shrugged. "If I was otherwise stoic, then I've done my ancestors proud."

The girl's abstracted eyes rested upon the mattress between them as she appeared to ponder his words. At length, her lashes lifted and she shook her head. "Nevertheless, after witnessing your remarkable reactions just now, I'm not certain I wish to experience this supposed bliss after all."

He laughed. "Would you care to make a wager on that point?"

"A wager?"

"Yes. I'll wager you'll change your mind about the 'crisis of bliss' --- before the night is over, I hope."

"You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Røkke." Her eyes motioned downwards to her coverlet-draped form. "I am at present bereft of my purse."

"I'd say your present state of dress offers a distinct advantage when it comes to pursuing the wager --- and you are in possession of the one 'purse' that matters."

Her cheeks pinkened. "I'd say you're more of a rogue than you let on." She shook her head. "Very well, sir, I suppose I can wager fifty cents. That's the extent of money my aunt now allows me."

"Fifty cents it is, then." Eyes alight, he twisted and crawled onto the bed towards her.

Ondine watched him, pulling the covers closer to her chin. "Mr. Røkke?"

"Lie down," he said in a low voice.

After a moment, she acceded, legs unfolding under the yet clutched covers as she lay back, crossways on the bed. Big, greenish eyes stared up at him, nervous and expectant.

Anders stretched out on his side next to her, his head propped on his hand. He picked up the corner of the coverlet. "May I?" When her grip relaxed, he folded it back to uncover her bosom, sighing inwardly at its renewed exposure. Cream and pink, the pert orbs were embraced by stray locks of dark shining hair. The motion of tugging free the tresses set the firm mounds jiggling. On the brink of uttering an admiring comment, he silenced himself. They were not lovers ... they were not lovers. He mustn't forget it. He mustn't burden her with his rioting heart.

Instead, he assuaged his urges with a warm, plump handful of female breast. Under his avid caresses and squeezes, her apprehensive face was soon transformed by the marks of pleasure --- a heaviness in her eyelids, a glow in her eyes, and a parting of her lips --- as before, bespeaking the sensitivity of her teats to sensual stimulation. While one of his hands thus happily played, his head tilted to press his lips to the softly standing peak of her nearer breast.

Ondine's eyes widened. And when his tongue came out to swirl around the nipple, a whispered "Oh!" escaped her. With voluptuous velvety passes of his wet tongue and tugging with his lips, he teased the tip, feeling it fetchingly rise with his attentions. Then his mouth opened wide to engulf the quivering pinnacle, deeply suckling in joy. How delicious she tasted! Clean, girl-scented skin, unadulterated by perfumes and powders. Appreciative currents tingled throughout his body.

Eyes now closed, her body subtly moved with the paradoxical, restless relaxation of carnal sensation. Between his stroking fingertips on one breast and his tongue and lips upon the other, he coaxed her shy nipples to stiffen into wantonly projecting, berry-colored buds. A last tender tweak upon the aroused flesh, then his hand burrowed under the bedcovers --- sliding down her smooth, flat belly.

The girl's eyes flew open when his fingers encroached in her silky patch.

Anders watched her face as he explored the beguiling territory. No resistance did he detect, only a tentative excitement --- eyes alert, breathing heightened, tongue wetting her lips. Beneath his eager fingertips, he felt the warm contours of her petite mound, felt the spring of its curly adornment, and felt the notch that led to paradise. Ondine's body tensed as his finger wiggled into the groove.

"Mr. Røkke, I ---" She seemed to be formulating some uncertainty.

He withdrew his hand, but fueled by lust, flipped the covers entirely away to gaze at her beautiful body. She lay on her back with her legs together and her hands palm up on either side of her head --- chest and abdomen rising and falling with her breaths.

Sighting down her slim belly, his eyes appreciated the coy rise of her little naked hillock, flaunted rather than concealed by the dark trifle of moss. With the lamplight behind it, the edges of the tuft were illuminated --- a halo befitting the heavenly spot it was. His body stirred anew.

The next moment, he was on his hands and knees, swinging a leg over to straddle hers. Bending forward with his palms clasping her hips, he grazed his lips over the very surface of the soft crinkly crest, making her shiver. And when he nuzzled into the fluff to press his open mouth to her mons and inhale in ecstasy, she wriggled and gasped.

"Mr. Røkke ... is this ... umm ... something the ghost did?"

Anders raised his face. Propped on her elbows, Ondine's head and shoulders were elevated as she looked down at him. He noted her dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. Grinning, he replied, "No. This falls under the command to 'remedy the deficiencies' in the ghost's actions."

The girl continued to stare at him as he lowered his mouth again, tempering his instinctual spate of reverent kisses into a deliberate foray to the goal. With her legs so tightly apposed, the grail was almost completely guarded from his eyes, but there in the nick where her mound separated, he glimpsed the root of her clitoris. And there did he thus press the advantage --- the tip of his tongue slid down the tiny pink ridge.

Ondine jumped.

Tickle, tickle, tickle. Up and down, his tongue snaked in the snug split, stroking the limited swath of her intimate skin --- while her body shook and her breaths quickened. When her eyes closed and her head fell back to the mattress, Anders forged ahead. As he continued the lingual teasing, he eased her legs apart and shifted his knees between hers, sinking to his belly and elbows.

Pausing, he admired the resulting effect. Limbs modestly separated, her entire vulva was now visible mere inches before his face. What a dainty little article it was! An enticing vertical furrow flanked by demurely puffed outer lips with a lacy tracing of downy hair. Enclosed and almost hidden between them were her pale pink, hairless nymphae, pressed together like two plush ribbons. Groaning, he adored her bare cunny with kisses before dragging his tongue through the rosy groove. Ondine's squeak catapulted him into action.

He grasped her thighs and pushed them wide apart, in lecherous delight watching her little pinky slit spread open.

She gasped, faltering, "Sir! This is ---"

He grinned wickedly. "Yes, it is." Her open thighs strained under his large hands as he stared at her fully displayed organ --- parted inner petals glistening with arousal, bijou nosing up at the front, rose-hued dimple of her bottom hole at the rear. Dæven! Cold medical knowledge fled his mind entirely, and he responded like a rutting male beast, nostrils flaring and lips twitching before planting his face in her privates.

Herregud! His dazed lips and tongue were all over her bewitching maiden toy --- sucking, lapping, tickling --- reveling in her subtle, intoxicating scent. Oh, glorious girl cream! The sweet and faintly tangy taste of fresh female that directly seized his vitals!

"Oh, Mr. Røkke!" she squealed.

Cock pulsing anew, Anders restrained his disorderly jubilation and bent his attentions to her pleasure. As for Ondine --- how rousingly she writhed and panted as he stimulated her most private parts! How wondrously her tender flesh swelled!

The tip of his tongue traced over the delicate edges of her inner petals, ascending to flutter upon the turgid bud at front. She moaned, her legs spreading wider. Probing the inlet to her vagina, his craving to penetrate her was thwarted by her virginity, and he had to content himself with her whimpering as he wiggled his tongue against the guardian membrane and gathered the slippery, welling fluid.

Most thrillingly, her initial embarrassed resistance was replaced by the frank, visceral response of sexual excitation --- her fists clutching the bedding, her knees of their own accord drawing up towards her shoulders, her pelvis tilting up to offer her swollen genitals to his oral caresses. Obligingly, he lapped at her engorged wet lips and clitoris, his body surging at her squirming and quavering sighs.

Presently hearing the telltale chaos in her panting and feeling the straining of her buttocks under his palms, he focused his devotions upon her standing pip --- his agile, muscular tongue rub, rub, rubbing over its wee hood ... dancing to the swift tempo of his heartbeat.

Ondine's shaking hips rose yet higher in his hands and her head began to toss from side to side. "Oh pray! Something's amiss! I shall burst --- or piddle on you!" Her frantic fingers opened and closed upon the sheet.

"Do it, sweet girl! Burst on me!" he rasped before again capturing her nibbly trigger between his lips.

Lick, lick, lick. Faster and faster grew the cadence of his stroking velvet weapon. Her panting abruptly halted and her cantilevered body froze --- tumescent vulva bulging, arched feet trembling on either side of his head.

All at once, her belly hollowed with her squeaking gasp. "OH!!" she cried. "OH! OH!" And then her hips lurched up and her toes clenched down, her slick, tongue-addled cunny helplessly jigging against his moving mouth. Oh God, yes! Ondine was spending! Oh, darling girl!

He continued ardently licking her as the shuddering convulsions gradually subsided.

At last, her body sank back to the mattress.

With a last kiss upon her nether lips, Anders rose to his knees and sat back on his heels, his exulting eyes traveling over her. The beautiful naked girl lay limp, eyes closed, utterly spent and panting. Her bent legs were yet splayed akimbo, revealing her rosy charms. A lovely flush touched her skin from her beatific face to her breasts.

He swallowed, fighting his cock's urging to mount her forthwith --- so advantageously positioned and lubricated was she. No --- he argued with his body --- this was not about his desires. Let her bask in her long --- long overdue first orgasm. Act two would come soon enough.

Her breathing at length peaceful, she lay so still he wondered if she had fallen asleep. As he watched her, he by-and-by detected a shiver before she stirred, closing her legs and curling onto her side. He dragged his eyes from her bare sex organ peeping out between her thighs, and gently pulled the coverlet over her.