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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Jayden had swung into the fourth rendition of “Moon River” he had been requested to play that evening in the piano bar of the Viking Rhine River cruise ship Gersemi two hours after it departed Cologne for its final destination in Amsterdam the next morning. As he was wont to do, each time he played the song he made a variation of it if for no other reason than to not bore himself to death. This fourth time was challenging because his ear was tuned to the mesmerizing throaty laughter of the woman across the lounge at a table with two younger men, members of a Swiss football team being rewarded with a cruise for having had a particularly good season.
Just as her laugh was hard to ignore, so was her siren existence in the bar. She was a flaming-red-haired beauty, with a trim, well-honed body and generous breasts poured into a gold lamé, scant-sleeves-off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. She had to be in her early forties at least but so well preserved and put together that she had no trouble maintaining the worshipful attention of the glassy-eyed and flirty hunky footballers. There was a revolving light ball in the middle of the ceiling that kept picking up flashes of light from not only her dress, but also the chunky diamonds on her fingers and dangling from her earlobes that both signaled huge wealth and was yet another distraction for Jayden’s attempt to provide background music on the piano in the bar.
A waitress, Jeanette, wafted by to take away the empty glass on the piano and renew it with one half-filled with cheap scotch, and Jayden stopped her to ask, “Do you have any idea who that red-headed woman is over there?” Jeanette was the best one to ask about the cruise passengers. By the end of a cruise she knew what there was to know about the more interesting ones.
“That’s Miriam Stratford-Hyde. Lady Miriam Stratford-Hyde,” Jeanette answered. “A regular baby killer, isn’t she?”
“Stratford-Hyde? No relation to Arthur Stratford-Hyde, the composer, is she?”
“She is, yes.”
“His mother?”
Jeanette laughed. “No, his wife.”
“But he’s–“
“Reputed to be gay, yes,” Jeanette said.
“I was going to say probably half her age.”
“That too.”
“Not to say that she isn’t a gorgeous babe.”
“If you say so,” Jeanette said, with a sniff. “She certainly goes after the babies.”
“She isn’t English, is she? I’ve heard her talk from over here.”
“No. American. Got to move on, Love.” And then Jeanette was gone. But Miriam Stratford-Hyde had risen and was coming over to the piano. For a moment Jayden was afraid she’d caught him asking about her and was coming over to admonish him, but it was because she wanted to request a song. He had gotten to the end of playing “Moon River” while he was talking with Jeanette and hadn’t realized he’d still been playing it. Of course he could play it in his sleep in this river cruise venue.
“How about playing a song for me, Handsome,” Miriam said. “Can you play ‘Misty’ for me?” Jayden groaned and she laughed her enticing throaty laugh. “I do suppose you get that requested a lot–and just that way.”
“Only a million times a night, but for a beautiful woman like you…” and he started into a slow, sensuous version of the song with a lot of rich chords added in to give it body.
She lingered at the piano. “Was that waitress giving a rundown to you on me?” She was smiling, and the tone was one of amusement, so he didn’t get defensive.
“I was interested. You are an arresting woman.”
“I have been arrested a time or two,” she said. “Once because they thought I’d killed my second husband, after my first one keeled over nearly the same way. After that, I swore off older men. How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“A good age. A very good age. But you don’t come from around here, do you?”
Jayden knew exactly what she meant by that. “I come from Jamaica,” he answered. He steeled himself for some sort of racial slur whether she meant it or not.
“Well, you play divinely. Somewhat of a surprise, considering what a very large, strapping young man you are.”
“It gives me broad hands, so I have a long stretch on the keys.”
“I like a big man with a long stretch,” she said.
“Like those footballers you are with over there?” Jayden asked.
“Yes, Love, exactly like those young, hunky footballers over there. Did your waitress friend tell you who I was?”
“Yes. Miriam Stratford-Hyde. Lady Miriam Stratford-Hyde.”
“You say that like you know who that might be.”
“The onikişubat escort wife of the famous music composer, Sir Arthur Stratford-Hyde.”
“Very good. You know of him then?”
“My thing is music and he’s Mr. Music for Broadway musicals. Of course I know him. A bit surprised you’re his wife.”
“Because he’s half my age and gay?”
That set Jayden back a bit. “No, because he’s so sedate and you look like a woman who knows how to have a good time.”
“Swinging from the chandeliers and tossing her stockings down to the boys?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a good time,” Jayden said. He was on his second go at “Misty,” but he didn’t want to change the mood by stopping playing. He didn’t want her to leave.
“Differences do attract, you know,” she said. “Like with Arthur and me. He has the title and a good job that has him on the road a lot, and I have the money and a fetish for young men who aren’t gay. I think the English have always considered that good pairing–money saving titles. I think differences enhance a liaison, like one having a vagina and one a cock, although I seem to have married someone this time who has fuzzied up that distinction, or if one is white, and…”
“The other is black?” Jayden asked. Or, he thought, if one is a rich forty-five-year-old cougar and the other is some twenty-five-year-old poor schmuck playing the piano for tips.
“Precisely.” She seemed about to say something more, but one of her footballers, Dieter, had come to the piano. “Say there, Miriam. I saw that your glass was empty. I forgot what you’re drinking. Can I get you another one?”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Love. I have the bed in mind.” Her eyes were twinkling at Jayden when she said that. “Perhaps you could toddle along with me and help me find my cabin. I keep getting lost.”
And winding up in the beds of others, I’ll wager, is what Jayden thought.
“Thanks for playing the song for me,” she said to Jayden, making sure he saw the thickness of the wad of euros she’d taken out of a small purse and jammed down into his tip jar. When he counted it later, it was enough for him, rather than Dieter, to help her find her cabin. He hadn’t had trouble giving service for generous tips before on cruises. “Are you turning around and doing another cruise up the Rhine as soon as we get to Amsterdam, Mr. Pianoman?” she asked as she was leaving.
“No, I have a few days in Amsterdam before we return upriver,” Jayden said.
“We’re twins then. I’ll be in the city for a few days too. I’m booked at the Grand Hotel Amrâth.”
Before Jayden could think of anything to say to that, she and Dieter were gone, walking close together toward Miriam’s suite, where, once in the door, Miriam barked orders that had the hunky footballer stripped and his hands and mouth working her body at her direction. He lay on his back on her bed, his arms stretched over his head, his wrists tied to the edges of the headboard with red silken cords, and she saddled herself on his loins and his big footballer’s erection and rode him into the night.
* * * *
The Grand Hotel Amrâth was near where the riverboat was docked and at the edge of Amsterdam’s Warmoesstraat red-light district, where the whores sat in glassed cubicles on the second floors of the brothels and enticed johns in like the sirens of the Lorelei. It was here the next afternoon where Jayden Belafonte was patiently sitting in the lobby until Lady Miriam Stratford-Hyde, dressed to the nines in a smart cream-colored Thai silk suit, ventured forth to walk in the district. As she left the hotel, Jayden followed, several paces behind her.
She sat at an outdoor café, with Jayden fetching her coffee, but sitting off at another table. She didn’t otherwise acknowledge he was there, lowering her sunglasses and ogling good-looking young men as they walked by. Later he followed her into an art gallery in the red-light district on Monnikenstraat, where she slowly walked down along the wall of art depicting male-female copulation in various eras and styles and Jayden trailed behind. She picked out a painting from Roman times showing a Roman goddess riding a bound young athlete and another of a beautiful mature woman sitting at a bar in a 1920s flapper dress, with her legs arranged to show she was wearing no panties and was flashing a young man sitting nearby.
“Shall we send these to your hotel when they’ve been wrapped, Madam?” the clerk asked.
“No, my man here will carry them back ordu escort to my room,” she answered. And that was what Jayden did, obviating the question of whether or not he was meant to go to her hotel room with her.
Inside her room, Miriam initiated the kissing and the disrobing. She pushed a naked Jayden down onto a chair, sank to her knees in front of him, and exclaimed on how big and black his shaft was before making it disappear in her throat and giving him head, not stopping when he said she should–when he needed her too–but using her skill at edging him short of liftoff until his balls ached.
When she desired it, she rose, settled in his lap in the chair, facing him, and rode his cock. Before he could come, though, she was up and across the room. When she came back she was holding a ball gag and strands of red-silk rope.
“Put your arms behind you, around the back of the chair,” she commanded.
“I don’t think so,” Jayden responded.
* * * *
Miriam writhed and jerked, moaning through the ball gag, her wrists and ankles bound together with the red-silk ropes, as Jayden, his huge erection sliding up and down the cleavage between her breasts, held her cross-ways on his lap, his fingers of his left hand laced into her flaming-red hair and holding her head down, while he slapped her again and again, on her bare buttocks with his right hand. Her orbs were red. She was groaning and cursing him through the ball gag, squirming around as she could. But he was too strong for her.
She had never, ever, been challenged for control by a man like this.
He untied her ankle bonds and carried her to the foot of the bed, lowering her there on her back. She struggled to get up and he slapped her across the face, snapping her head back and forth as he slapped her again going the other way. The strikes were nowhere as strong as he could have delivered, though.
In shock, she lay back on the bed, and he grasped her legs under the knees, spread her thighs, went down on his knees, and attacked her clit, folds, and cunt with his lips, tongue, and teeth, slurping down from there to rim and push his tongue in her anus and then back up to worry her snatch. She writhed under him, crying out through the gag, and moaning. Her cunt was rhythmically pushing up into his face as he ate her out.
She had her first orgasm as he was eating her out and, arching her back, she was rocking up into his face. As he palmed and squeezed her buttocks, lifting her hips up to his face, she jerk violently, exploded, and, in a long sigh collapsed under him.
Jayden stood up, bringing her legs up with him, hooking her ankles on his shoulders, nudging his groin into hers. She cried out behind her gag and arched her back as he entered her, held, moved in deeper as he felt her vagina walls give to him, drove further deep inside her as she writhed under him, pulled back on his hips, thrust forward, back and forward, and set up the rhythm of the fuck.
Miriam only put up with this for a few moments before bending her right leg back and striking it forward and up, catching Jayden on the chin with her foot. He was pushed out of her and staggered back a couple of steps. Taking advantage of this, Miriam, rolled away from him and off the bed and stumbled, wrists still bound behind her, toward the door to the room.
Jayden caught her and slapped her face twice, sending her momentarily into a daze.
“Behave, Bitch, and lay down for me. There’s only one man in this room. That’s me. There’s only one boss cock here. Mine.”
He picked her up and slammed her down on her belly on the bed. While she was still winded, he tied her ankles together again.
“Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. I command. You surrender.”
He came up on the bed, straddling her hips. She struggled under him while he was mounting her from on top and behind. He didn’t enter her cunt this time, though.
“You gonna feel the power of a man now, Bitch.” He didn’t say it in anger. He was calm, like he was correcting a recalcitrant child.
“Let me explain. I’m a dog; you’re a bitch. I’m a stallion; you’re a mare. The boss cock is mine. I’m the man; you’re not.”
He reached over to the nightstand for a condom and a tube of lubricant. Rolling the Trojan Magnum XL on his erection, he lubed both that and her anus up liberally. She writhed under him and made guttural noises through the ball gag, but to no avail.
Taking his time he penetrated and slowly spread örnekköy escort open her ass channel with his big, black, throbbing cock. Her writhing eventually faded out to trembling, moaning, and hiccupping sobs as, once fully saddled, Jayden went up in a ridged pushups stance and set an up and down slow rhythm of fucking her in the ass. Up, down. Miriam groaned. Up, down. Miriam moaned. Up, down, hold, move in a circular screwing motion, opening her wider. Miriam shuddered. Spreading her ass. Possessing her. Mastering her. Fucking her in the ass.
Eventually, following a second body-rocking orgasm, Miriam fully surrendered to him, sighing and lifting her hips enough that she could rock with and meet the rhythm of the ass fuck.
When Jayden came, he reached up and down, releasing her from her bonds and the ball gag, and pulled her close into his lap, the two of them on their sides, the much larger man enveloping her trembling body. After a while Jayden was on the rise again. He penetrated once more–still in her ass. She didn’t fight him. All of her fight had fled. He fucked her and fucked her and fucked her in a hole now reamed to his need and came again. This time Jayden was slow and sensual, including kissing and fondling. Miriam went fully with the fuck. When he came his fingers were working her cunt and he felt her shudder and come with him.
The cougar tamed.
After calming down from the second fuck, Jayden released Miriam, who immediately rolled over onto her belly, and arm hanging off the side of the bed in exhaustion. Her glassy eyes watched him stride to the bathroom. When he came out of the shower, her eyes were closed. Exhausted, she had dozed off.
When she woke, she was looking at Jayden, naked, sitting in the chair and looking at her.
“You want to do this now with man dominant and woman compliant?” he asked. “You don’t have to do it that way if you don’t want to, of course. I can get up, dress, and leave. But that’s what you want if you do it with me. If that’s what you want, we can start again. You can come over here and get me hard again.”
It took nearly a minute for Miriam to process that and to decide, but then she came off the bed, crossed the room on all fours, knelt between Jayden’s spread thighs, and took his cock in her hands and mouth, making love to it, worshipping it, and bringing it back to erection.
He carried her back to the bed and lay her on her back. Once more he prepared her by feasting on her cunt. He didn’t extend his mouth down to her anus, but he penetrated her with a finger there and she moaned and rocked on it.
He fucked her in the cunt from behind, both of them kneeling on the bed, Jayden behind Miriam, and Jayden’s left hand manipulating her breasts while his right hand played her clit and folds. He made one transition, to the Missionary position, hovering over her and capturing her eyes with is to watch her response to him fucking her deep.
He withdrew, moving his right hand between them and grasped his cock. “Only if you say ‘yes,’ if you say you want it this way,” he whispered.
She sighed, murmuring, “Yes, yes. Do it,. Do whatever you want,” as she lifted her ankles to his shoulders and rolled her hips up. She arched her back, dug her fingernails into his biceps, and cried out, “Oh, fuck yes, you magnificent black stud,” as he entered her ass with his shaft and started spreading and fucking her there. He rose on his knees, running his left arm under her waist and raising her pelvis higher. In, out; in deeper, out. Her ankles came off his shoulders and she bent her legs, using her feet dug into the mattress to thrust up to meet his thrusts. The fingers of his right hand went to worrying her clit, folds, and cunt. Her torso streamed down to the bed and she grasped her breasts, kneading and working them, as he fucked her in the ass. They came nearly together.
She was stretched out on the bed on her belly, an arm dangling over the side again, and moaning and blowing bubbles when he’d showered again, come back into the room, dressed, given her one “And that’s how it is” look, and left the room.
As twilight was setting in, Miriam mustered enough energy to rise, use the toilet and shower, and come back to the room and over to her carryon bag, where she kept the papers on the river cruise. She shuffled through those until she found the telephone number of the Viking Cruise Line office in Amsterdam.
They would know how to put her in touch with the piano player on the most recent Rhine River cruise, Jayden Belafonte. No man had treated her like that before. She’d always picked them young and fucked them silly under her command. No man had treated her like Jayden just had done.
She needed to get more of Jayden, the big black stud, and as soon again as possible.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32