Lady Anthonia laughed as the material of her skirt flew up in her face; first her ornate over skirt, then her chemise. Slowly, she could feel the stockings being peeled from her shapely legs and ticklish feet by his strong-callused hands with teasingly unhurriedness.
It was her first time in Paris and the hotel suite Foster had rented was extravagant to say the least, with its large, lavish chandelier and a bed the size of an entire room, adorned with gold cherubs and silken curtains and sheets. She felt him tickle her the sensitive soles of her feet and giggled giddily,
"Dready, stop!"
"Enjoying the sights of Gay Paree?" he asked with a roguish tone to his voice. She felt him grasp her knees tightly and roughly pull them apart. With a sharp, low intake of breath he told her devilishly, "I know I am!"
Honestly, she'd been in Paris for three whole days and all the 'sights' she'd seen comprised mainly of the ceiling of their suite and that damnable chandelier (which she found in very poor taste. She'd told him so and he'd responded 'Damned Frogs, never a shred of taste in their pasty little bodies').
The infamous Captain "Dreadnought" Foster was almost twice her age. She'd met him a party back in London, a boisterous chap, always the center of attention. She had played coy at first (most men liked that) but found out quickly enough when Foster wanted something, especially a woman, he damn well had it! And he'd had her, hard yet not so fast up against the wall of a closet off the main ballroom where she found out he damn well had reason to boast! She hadn't walked straight without a certain amount of discomfort for the next week!
On a whim, he'd decided that Paris was the place for them, though times were tumultuous in the capital and Englishmen were usually less than welcomed. ('But I'm a Scotsman,' he'd protested loudly and emphatically.)
She pulled her skirts down far enough so she could see him. He had her calves under his arms as he rapidly struggled to undo his cravat and unbutton his waistcoat. He threw both to the floor and grinned at her naughtily and raunchily as he heaved her legs up onto his shoulders and knelt down, lowering his head to plant lovely hot kisses on her exposed thighs. She felt the warm wetness of his tongue skirt across her delicate flesh, tracing the contours of her slender muscles, making her gasp and wiggle her hips in a silent but undeniable invitation. She heard his lustily chuckle as she spread her thighs for him and felt his tongue tease her burning core. He used his thumbs to spread the moist folds of her womanhood and his greedy mouth descended on her. She cried out loud at the unbelievable sensation of him devouring her; his tongue lapping at her, playing devilishly with the throbbing bud of her desire. She felt the waves of desire wash over her as he continually brought her to the precipice of ultimate pleasure only to slow his tongue and pull her back again. She was mad for him and the feel of his mouth against her silken skin sent thrills coursing through her veins. She begged him as he teased her; pleas of undying devotion and love if he'd just fulfill her. Finally, he obliged.
He withdrew his mouth and she strained to see forward as he undid his breeches, slipping out of them like a professional and mounting her. She giggled as she found herself face to face with him, an enormous grin spread across his weather and war beaten but handsome face. She felt his large, hard member nudging her, prodding her core for the place to push in. She yelled aloud in sheer delight as he thrust in forcefully, feeling the entire length of his manhood penetrating her.
She was no virgin, he'd made sure of that over the past few days, so he was not afraid to be ungentle. He withdrew almost all the way and plunged back in harder and harder each time his rhythm increasing with his need. Anthonia cried aloud at each of his powerful thrusts, wondering somewhere in the back of her mind what the people renting the neighboring suite must think of them. They saw them once in the corridor, Foster's left hand was under her bodice his hand gripping her breast, his right firmly gripping her bottom, and his tongue was to her neck. He was out of breath from chasing the teasing little minx down the hallway, and intoxicated by the feel of catching her like the hound that caught the fox at the hunt. Needless to say, their neighbors gaze would not meet their own. Of course, Dreadnought wouldn't let the matter go and announced loudly, "Lovely night for a fuck, eh?" Mortified, they had turned a distinct shade of crimson and bid a hasty retreat to their room.
He grabbed her hips roughly now and pulled her up to him with each barbaric penetration, making her cry even louder as he sent his member deeper and deeper into her. She gasped, feeling as if a line of fireworks had been ignited along her spine starting in the very core of her sex and making its way up to her brain until she couldn't stand it anymore. He felt her muscles convulse tightly around him as orgasm came, and he thrust one last time before he himself came, pouring deep inside of her. He collapsed atop her, his chest heaving with the exertion, his long graying hair tickling Anthonia's face. She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging and nibbling gently.
He grinned and chuckled, "My Lady is inexhaustible."
"And my Captain is insatiable," she countered, squeezing her muscles around him and feeling him begin to go hard again.
"I've not even begun to satisfy myself on you, m'Lady," he said wickedly.
"Tell me how you got your scar," she said, biting my lip and running my finger along the side of his face.
"And what will you give me in return, my Lady?" She laughed, lightly, musically and wiggled her hips, feeling him go most decidedly rigid, "Anything, everything."
"I'll take my Lady up on the offer," he said with a raunchy wink. "What I couldn't do with you and a bucket of strawberries..."
Much to Anthonia's disappointment, he withdrew then and, grabbing her wrists, pulled her up to him, kissing her forcefully while trying to wriggle her empire-waist dress up over her head. When she was finally free of the posh silk blue frock which he'd made a present to her just days before, he threw it to the floor with as little care as he'd give a handkerchief.
"Wonderful new fashion," he commented lightly, grinning as he ran his hands along the shapely voluptuous curves of her body, "so easily removed!"
She giggled as he tickled her through the flimsy material of her chemise and swept her off her feet (literally), carrying towards the fainting couch next to the opened double window on the far side of the suite. She could feel the warm Parisian on her skin, tantalizing and titillating her, flowing in through the window in a gentle sweet breeze. He fondled her breasts through the fabric of her chemise, feeling her nipples peak beneath his devilish touch. She loved the feel of his rough hands against her and moaned her satisfaction, urging him on.
He bent over, gently nudging her camisole down her shoulder as he undid the ribbon at her breast that kept the damn thing together. Her plump round nipple was exposed to the night air for only a moment before he smothered it with the hot wet caress of his tongue and lips. He suckled greedily as her fingers tangled in his graying hair, pushing him further into her burning skin. She gasped and moaned, a low keening sound from the back of her throat.
Good Gawd, what a man!
"Quiet now, love," he grinned wickedly, moving up her body again and seizing her mouth with his. He purposely raised his voice to a shout as he said, "Wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors, now would we?"
Anthonia laughed aloud. He rolled her over and, enfolding her in his strong arms, urged her to her knees and thrust in from behind, filling her to his hilt with his rigid manhood, relishing the feel of her silken wet skin enclosing him in the tight depths of her body. She cried out at each of his desperate and frantic penetrations, pitching backwards to meet each one with a delicious groan. He pushed her flat on her stomach as his rhythm became more rushed, harder, faster.
He kissed the back of her sweat gleaming neck as he felt the beginnings of her climax rip through her body, her muscles tightening around him and her body shuddering in delightful little ripples of pleasure. He reached his hand around her waist and plunged his fingers into her womanhood, finding her swollen bud within her coarse curls and rubbing it insistently until she felt lightening shoot through her veins.
She arched her back and yelled out one last time as she came, her fists clutching desperately at the fainting sofa. He continued to pump until he too gave out a sharp groan of pleasure and spilled his essence inside her. He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily though not exhausted enough to resist giving her a fierce smack on her bared bottom.
She yelped and giggled as he nuzzled her ear, whispering, "You are unbelievable, my Lady. Shall I order up for those strawberries now?" he asked with a depraved gleam in his eyes.
