Passion to Paradise

James looked discreetly at Lisa and at me and smiled. 'Yes, madam,' he said. 'I think you may have.' He withdrew.

'Lisa,' I said. 'You are quite outrageous. Do I take it that that young man and you have shared a bed.'

'Don't be such a prude or I'll regret bringing you. He is a very good fuck.'

'Is this club entirely for girls like us?'

'Of course. I want us both to feel totally comfortable when we go down to breakfast and everybody knows we have been making love. Don't waste time, girl; let me get at that delicious clitie.'

I shrugged off my jacket and blouse whilst Lisa hummed 'The Stripper' then I unfastened my skirt and let it fall so that I was swaying to the music dressed in high heels, thigh highs and pale pink satin and lace panties and bra. Lisa tore off her clothes and sank naked to her knees. She fastened her lips on the outline of my clitie cock and balls through their satin sheath and slowly unpeeled them.

'So pretty,' she murmured before enclosing them within her mouth. Her hands glided up my stockinged legs to my bare thighs, where they found their way into my cleft and she parted my buttocks before easing one finger, then two, into my pucker. I sank backwards onto our bed. She rose above me, releasing my clitie, which drooped prettily over my thigh, and she brought me to sissygasm with her tongue sunk into my cunt.

Some hours later I turned to her and said, 'Aren't we supposed to be shopping?'

'Plenty of time for that over the next three days. Let's take our pleasure whilst we can without men.'

We had dinner sent up to us and breakfast the next morning. Then we dressed and went forth to shop. I had not understood the sheer pleasure a girl can get from the process of having her clothes individually made. The measuring, the discreet handling, the swish of silk on skin, the gentle roughness of lace drawn across a breast: these are pleasures which add greatly to a girl's wellbeing. All the shop people and craftswomen knew Lisa and, through her, I became a special customer for whom nothing was too much trouble.

That night we ate in the club dining room. As we arrived at the entrance the head waiter appeared. 'Delighted to welcome you back, Miss Belsay,' he said. 'I hope you will be staying with us for some time.'

'Sadly only until Thursday, Henry,' said Lisa as he bowed us to our table with expressions of regret and hopes for our speedy return.

The other tables were occupied by women like ourselves either alone or in pairs. I noticed that the waiters were all very comely men of various ages and Lisa leant over to me and said, 'For this trip we shall be sufficient for each other but if you would like to become a member you need never lack for male company in bed.'

As our meal progressed I noticed more than one lady speak confidentially to her waiter and smiles be exchanged.

That night, back in our bed, Lisa and I shared our milk in a sixty-nine and she told me about her maternal love for Bernie which had become so much more. She said that they were waiting for the right moment to tell their father that they wished to marry. Of course, as brothers, they couldn't legally marry, but they hoped that they could have a private ceremony at home, just within the family, at which they would be accepted as mother and son and husband and wife.

I asked if their father knew about the complex sexual relationships between his children. She replied that he was very understanding and that he was even more so since the death of his wife. I left it at that for the time being.

On our last full day in London Lisa told me that she and I were to dine with her father. The boys didn't know yet that he was back in this country but he had contacted her and had asked to meet me on neutral ground, as it were. As you can imagine I dressed with special care. I wore a dark blue dress in fine wool with satin detailing on its halter neck and long sleeves, and a pair of sapphire earrings which Victor had given to me on my birthday, after I had had my ears pierced. Although marriage had never been mentioned between Victor and me I felt as though I were meeting my father in law.

Gerald arrived at Lisa's club in a hired Bentley. The chauffeur was to pick us up again after we had dined. Lisa and I were in the visitors' drawing room waiting for Gerald. She saw him come through the door and her face lit up. I followed her eyes across the room and, as the cliché has it 'the world stood still.'

I had been told that Gerald began his working life as a builder's labourer. I could believe it. His hands were enormous and when he shook my hand I realised that they were as tough as leather. He was a big man, at least six feet eight inches tall, with a barrel chest and, so far as I could tell, under a Savile Row suit, he was magnificently muscled. The thickness of his neck spoke of massive strength. His face was tanned by the sun of an outdoor life and he had the bluest, most alive eyes I had ever seen. He exuded vitality and his personality killed stone dead every other person in the room without his even trying. He was the most astonishingly alive man I had encountered. Engagingly, for a successful businessman, he had kept his Yorkshire accent, which served to emphasise his masculinity.

He saw his daughter and as they greeted one another I knew immediately that these two had been to bed together. There is a quality about the intimacy of people who have screwed which is quite different from that between people who have not. Then he turned his searchlight on me and I had an almost out of body experience, except that the body was overwhelmingly part of it. I knew that this man and I were meant for each other and that I longed to lie under his weight and be filled by him. I saw myself as his wife, his concubine, his fuck toy. I should do whatever it took but I should belong to him and know the joy of being his woman.

He must have been goggling at me as I was goggling at him. Lisa broke the spell by whispering urgently, 'For god's sake don't ravish each other in the hallway. I'll never be able to stay here again.'

We recovered ourselves but we all three knew that something momentous had happened. In the restaurant to which Gerald took us it was clear that he was a valued client. We were bowed to our table and wine and food appeared almost miraculously. Neither Gerald nor I had recovered from our first surprise although Gerald did a better job than I in conversing with an air of normality. By the time we reached coffee the unspoken subject of his and my attraction for each other sat like a spectre in the middle of the table and our stilted conversation petered out. Lisa made an excuse to go to the ladies' room and left her father and me to sort out our situation.

No sooner had she gone than Gerald asked urgently, 'Are you married to my son?'

'No.'

'Have you discussed marriage.'

'No'

He relaxed and the air around us in the room seemed to relax too; he was so dominant a personality.

'So we two can marry,' he said in a matter of fact way.

'Yes, it would be embarrassing but no more than that. Victor and I are fond of one another but I realised soon after we began that we are not as desperately in love as we originally thought.'

'But we are.'

'Yes, it appears so.'

'Only appears so?'

'No. It is. I don't know how I know but I do.'

'And, little girl,' Gerald took my hand in his, 'You will marry me.'

'You know I shall.'

He was kissing my hand as Lisa returned from the ladies' room.

'Meet your new step-mother,' said Gerald.

Gerald was staying in a flat belonging to his family in the Barbican, which he used as his London base. We drove Lisa back to the club and Gerald and I went to the flat. It was on three levels and looked down on the gardens, past the ancient church of St Bartholomew the Great, to the brilliantly lit skyline of London. I stood entranced by the view. Gerald came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder so that he could whisper in my ear.

'I need to fuck you so much,' he said.

'Good, take me,' I replied and he carried me into the bedroom and began to undress me. He had got me down to my bra, panties and stockings when he said to me, 'Will you undress me, darling?'

I unbuttoned his shirt and was speechless before the massive pecs and abs with their covering of black, silvering hair. I suckled on his nipples amongst this enchanted forest and he stroked my hair.

'Go lower, sweetheart,' he whispered and I loosened his trousers and his underpants so that he could remove them. He stood, legs apart, before me. His tanned skin and the silver in his hair shone against each other and from the bush of black and silver in his groin stood his mighty cock, a good eleven inches and as wide as Bernie's at the base for most of its length, surmounted by the most arrogantly male helmet head, oozing precum, which I rapidly took on my tongue, taking care to lick his piss slit to tantalise him.

'My clever girl,' he said. 'Hold my balls.'

I cherished and savoured each peach-sized, hairy ball before returning to kiss his cock.

'Now. I must have you now,' said my man. He lifted me onto the bed, spread my legs and began the oldest, best dance of them all, first loosening my pucker with his spit and his fingers until he had prepared her and then he teased her for a moment with his head before ramming the whole majestic pole up to the hilts into my staggered cunt. I shook and lurched and he held steady inside me until my paroxysms had stopped and then he began slowly and comprehensively to give me the fucking of my life. No man had ever reached where this man reached and no man had ever brought me to such a climax as this man achieved over and over again.

By morning he had filled me many times over with his sperm and my face and limbs were festooned in ropes of his cum. There was no question but that I belonged to him. He was my man. I was, irrevocably, his woman.

He made the position clear. Of his wife he expected fidelity. I told him that I had spent my life closeted and afraid before his three children had taken my sex life in hand but that I asked nothing better than to belong exclusively to him. He told me that he had been faithful to his first wife even when he realised that he needed a woman with a cock and balls. Lisa had come into his bed a year after his wife had died. Initially he felt guilty but seeing that all his children enjoyed each other he had come to think little of the aspect of incest in the relationships since no babies would be born. But now he would be faithful to me and he would give his cock, his balls, his sperm and his whole body, only to me, his wife.

We joined Lisa at the club for the drive north. James came to the door with our luggage and I could tell that Lisa had not had a lonely night.

The situation was easier than I expected. The boys were so used to obeying their father that when he said that I was to be his wife, after the initial shock, they accepted it. Victor was more upset than Bernie, naturally, for he had taken me as his lover first and Bernie had Lisa, whereas now Victor had no one except for his brother and sister by default.

Two marriages were arranged. Mine to Gerald was a public affair in a grand hotel with music, dancing and fine dining. I ordered my wedding dress from a superb couturier with an international name and every man present congratulated my husband with lust in his eyes. Bernie and Lisa simply stood before their father and he accepted them as mother and son, then as wife and husband, then we of the immediate family toasted them in champagne and had rather a good meal which Lisa and I had cooked.

Actually, Victor soon found another love. He ran Lisa and me down to London for the fitting of my wedding dress and her matron of honour outfit. Lisa introduced him to a friend of hers staying at the club and they struck up a friendship which blossomed into love. They married a year later. Lisa and Bernie, Victor and Julie enjoy a varied and strenuous love life.

True to our vows Gerald and I remain true to each other. We have been husband and wife for ten years now and our passion has not abated one jot. We are Mr and Mrs Gerald Belsay. I have given up my job in the drawing office and I accompany my husband as his hostess on all his travels and at home. No matter where we are in the world, every night my darling allows me to undress him and he undresses me. I glide my tongue over his pecs, through his mat of silver-grey hair, and my mouth finds her way to his nipples and I suckle on him as he calls me his baby girl.

I progress to his pits where his taste and smell make me drunk with love, then I travel south over the great sierras and mountains of his body, licking and touching his muscles until I reach the valley of his naval, which I circle with my probing tongue. From there I descend further to the valley of my ultimate delight where, deep in his magical forest, lie the delicious mountains of his balls and the mighty column of his cock, and my hands and my mouth enter heaven, as I swallow more and more of his man meat and his love juice begins to build, as my eager hands stroke his foreskin back and I grasp the essential man between both my hands and he shoots his load of my favourite food into my loving throat.

He follows my progress with delight and his hands push aside my wisps of silk and lace to grasp my breasts and my clitie. He starts to probe and explore me.

'What a pretty little cocklet,' he will say and his tongue will outline her shape before he gains my pucker and flickers his butterfly kisses into her secret places. Soon he replaces tongue with cock. He has me guide his mighty head to his prize as he opens my velvet tunnel. He claims her as his own and his mighty cock shoots his sperm into my womb and my heaven becomes complete.