Just A Woman (Marina: Part Two: Naughty Nookie Series)
Read Just A Woman (Marina: Part Two: Naughty Nookie Series) Online
Authors: Serena Akeroyd
Just A
Woman
By
Serena
Akeroyd
Marina:
Part Two
Naughty
Nookie Series
The right
of Gemma Mazurke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted
by her in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of
the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely
coincidental.
All
rights reserved.
No part
of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
First Kindle Edition,
January 2014
Copyright
© Gemma Mazurke 2014
Cover
design by Clarissa Yeo
**DISCLAIMER:
Please do not try any new sexual practice, BDSM or otherwise, without the
guidance of an experienced practitioner. Gemma Mazurke will not be responsible
for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information
contained in this book.**
#FallIntoLove
#CrazyLittleThingCalledLust
#AllThatGlitters
#CanBeGold
#ABitchInTime
#JustAWoman
#NaughtyNookie
To S and Snow from
spankaway.tumblr.com
, whose advice and GIFs of the best aftercare a sub can ever
receive, inspired the much-needed, softer edge to Marina’s Sir.
Thanks : )
And if you’re going to click on to it
(readers) then be warned. Nudity. Spanking tips, hints and the after-effects…
Tumblr rocks. Ha!
30
th
April 2013
The Grand
Hotel, Chicago
As the cab pulls
up outside the hotel, I don’t even bother to open the door. It’s strange
waiting, but Nate always does it for me. He pays the fare, then jumps out
and rounds the car to help me like a gentleman of old. With my hand in
his, I smile up at him as I alight from the cab.
Dinner, a walk
through Little Italy and a movie. Not the most thrilling of nights out
but that’s the best part about being with Nate. Doing nothing is like
doing something.
The car moves off
into the traffic and leaves us on the sidewalk. When Nate doesn’t make to
move toward the foyer, I frown at him. “Are we camping out here,
tonight? I prefer our room. It has heating.”
He shakes his
head. There’s a weird glitter in his eyes as he bends down and presses
his lips to my ear, “I’ve got something for you, Marina.”
“You have?
What?” I ask, a wide grin curling my lips. “Can you give it to me
inside? Sorry to be a killjoy, but you’re wearing pants and I have a
skirt on.”
“You’re damned
right I can give it to you inside and the skirt is the reason I can.”
“What do you
mean?”
“Just remember,”
he whispers, bending down and brushing a kiss over my nose. “Be quiet.”
Wondering what the
hell he’s talking about, he grabs me by the hand and before I can even utter a
complaint, he’s pulling me through the entrance, so quickly I can’t even greet
the door attendant, and tugging me through the lobby.
The Grand is just
that.
Grand.
A pleasant mixture of old and new.
Antique and modern. It’s why we always stay here for our little trysts.
The reception is
sleek, all slate tiles and low slung, leather sofas. Yet there are Art
Nouveau figurines decorating side tables or sculptures overtaking a huge floor
space. Muted colors, dim lights, it all adds to a rather hushed
air. At the back of the reception, there are four antique telephone
boxes. I doubt anyone uses them, but they’re there and that’s where Nate
is dragging me.
The receptionist
stares at the strident path we’re cutting across the hall. One nod from
Nate has him returning his attention to the paperwork in front of him.
I don’t even have
time to complain about the rough grip he has on my wrist, before he opens the
booth’s frosted glass door and pushes me inside. About two feet by two
feet, there’s no room for a skinny woman and her excessively large purse, never
mind a couple!
“Are we calling
someone?” I ask pointedly, wondering what the hell we’re doing here.
“Because if you’ve run out of credit on your cell phone, I have plenty.”
He ignores my
sarcasm, too intent on squeezing us inside and shutting the door. There’s
about five inches of play in the entire booth. It’s a good thing I don’t
suffer from claustrophobia, because hell, this is cramped.
With the door
shut, the temperature shoots up and silence hovers over the pair of us like a
heavy blanket. I can’t turn around to glare at him as my back is glued to
his front.
On the brink of
making another complaint, his hand suddenly appears in front of me. He
holds it over my mouth and the only thing to stop me from stomping on his foot
is the fact he takes care to keep my nose free and clear.
Eyes wide, I stare
straight ahead, not saying or doing anything, wondering where he’s going to go
with this. How
far
he’s going to go.
“Remember,” he
breathes into my ear. “Don’t make a sound.”
I nod and tease
him by sticking out my tongue and trailing it along his palm. He
chuckles, the sound low and intent but before I can feel smug, his prosthesis
drops down to grab the hem of my skirt. One-handed, he drags it up and
then, switching sides, he gives the other side the same treatment so my skirt
is riding my upper thighs.
There’s no room to
do anything in here, never mind fuck, which I’m assuming is his
intention. I mumble against his hand, but he ignores me and refuses to
budge his fingers. Before I can glare straight ahead, his fingers are
between my legs, nudging my thong aside and sliding down to my sex. He
strums my clit on the downward stroke and the move has me jerking on to tiptoe.
Excitement vibrates through me. Where irritation had been, arousal
now rests.
I shudder as he
continues to rub and massage my clit, making juices flood my pussy and sending
sharp hunger pangs for his cock, right through me.
I reach back, try
to rub him through his pants, but he grabs my hand and pushes it against the
wall, holding it there so I don’t move. So I
can’t
move. The
sound of a zipper is loud in the silence broken only by his breaths, hard and
laborious, I can tell he’s excited and that’s something that only increases my
pleasure.
Nate leans forward
and with our proximity, he urges me to bend over slightly. His foot slips
between mine, nudging my legs wider apart until his shaft brushes the outer
lips of my pussy and he’s working his way deep inside.
A whimper lodges
in my throat as his thick cock forges a path through tight, clinging
tissues. My eyes flutter to a close as my teeth take advantage of his hand
by biting down on the soft fleshy pad of his palm. He grunts but doesn’t
chide me, just keeps on moving until he’s all the way in.
A low cry escapes
me. I can’t control it as my body reacts to the thickness of his
penetration, and in this position, it’s doubly noticed. I’m stretched,
full, drowning in his presence. But fuck, it feels good.
In my ear, he
whispers, “Hold on.”
Unable to move, I
just stand there, positioned like a marionette doll. His for the taking
and the instant his hips start to rock and his cock forges its way in and out
of my needy pussy; I lower my head as ecstasy shatters in my brain like
fireworks on Independence Day.
Oh God, it feels
good. So, so good.
My arousal has
slurping sounds ricocheting around the booth and the noises are such a turn on,
I can feel more juices welcoming him, drenching him. A shudder works
through me as he bends further forward, but this time, I’ve nowhere to go but
the wall. Pressing my face against it, the cool acetate is a sharp contrast
to the heat in the booth. His hand is still there, forcing me to be
silent. The slight change in angle means he can start to fuck me
properly. A whine works its way free as he does just that. Deep,
hard, fast.
The closeness of
the booth enriches everything. Concentrating the minutest detail and
amplifying it a thousand fold. So the slightest sound, the smell of sex,
the tightness of our fit within the phone box is intense. The heat is
uncomfortable, sweat is beading on my brow, drenching my torso, but I can focus
only on the fire in my cunt, one he’s intent on extinguishing with a load of
his cum.
Shuddering at the
thought, I press my head into the hard wall in front of me. It hurts, but
I need that slight pain. Each thrust has him dragging against already
hard-used tissues. He’s fucked me so many times this weekend I don’t know
where my pussy ends and his cock begins, but it’s still too good to be
true.
A high-pitched
moan escapes me, as he takes me down, dragging me to the edge of insanity as
climax beckons but stays out of reach and then, he shoots me hard and fast to
the stars as it explodes inside me; pleasure, release. Satisfaction.
The rough fuck has
my every nerve tingling as he pummels into me, his hips pistoning deep and then
he stops, and with a jerk of his lower body, cums. He grunts low, the
sound guttural as he continues a faint rocking motion, milking every drop of
pleasure from my body.
He stands there in
silence for a few seconds, resting his head on my shoulder, leaving me in the uncomfortable
position of being pressed against the wall. But I don’t mind. Any
other guy, I’d have called them all kinds of names. With Nate, the quick
and unexpected, yet molten hot climax is a treat.
I should be used
to occasions like this. He’s always surprising me. Always taking me
to the edge, to the outer limits of my control.
Another shudder
rattles through my body and he presses a rough kiss to my cheek. He pulls
out, a move that has us both reacting ̶ he with a low groan and me with a
high mewl ̶ and then rearranges my skirt so that I’m decent once
more. On the outside, at any rate.
Between my pussy
lips, his cum is gathering, moistening my inner thighs and thong. A hot
reminder of what just happened... as if I needed one with my mind still
floating on a cloud somewhere near heaven.
Behind me, I can
hear him fumbling with the door but as it opens, he doesn’t move. The
sound of a zipper tells me why and I’ve a few more inches to play with so I
quickly make sure my hair isn’t mussed and that I don’t look as though I’ve
just been fucked in a phone booth.
He steps out, his
heat abandoning me and I turn around, staring at him with wide eyes. He
looks at me, nods, silently telling me I look decent and takes my hand.
Sedately, as
though we’d just made a call, we walk to the elevators and ride up to our room.
Neither of us says
a word on the way up. As he unlocks the door, sliding the card in before
opening it and letting me pass, we retain the silence. Only as the door
shuts behind him, does he say, “Bedroom, two minutes. Naked. Leave
your heels on.”
With a grin, I
scurry ahead, running through the small lounge and into the bedroom.
Tugging down my skirt and thong, I slide them off, then jerk out of my coat,
and dump it on the floor. The sheer hot-pink shirt that displays my
white, demi-cup bra was a teasing outfit I chose for tonight. Combined
with the black pencil skirt, I was decently dressed but he could see
everything.
I’ve riled him to
this, to a hard and rough fuck and God, if it doesn’t thrill me.
Slipping out of
the blouse and bra, I jump on the bed and just in time too, as he sweeps into
the room seconds later. Exuding so much power, I shiver with it.
He looks me over,
like a man buying goods and says, “Spread your legs.”
I do as asked and
watch his throat work. That is the only reaction on his face at the sight
of his cum slowly escaping my pussy and coating the tops of my inner
thighs. He reaches forward and coats his index finger with the seed, then
proffers it to me. He knows I don’t
do
that, so when I turn my
head away, I’m not surprised that his hands are hard on my hips when he
forcibly turns me over.
Out of everything
I could say no to, it’s that that pisses him off the most. It doesn’t
matter that I’ll experiment; do pretty much anything once... that I won’t
swallow is a major sulking point.
A part of me feels
smug at my hold over him, and it’s there that the reason behind my refusal to
swallow lies, as mean as it is. But hell, a girl has to have something up
her sleeve, doesn’t she? Especially with a guy like Nate.
Christ, I need his
cock back inside me. I have four months of celibacy to make up for and I
won’t see him again for another sixteen weeks.
The more time he
spends fucking me, the better. And it’s something that his cock can
easily accommodate. I’ve never known a man with such a recovery rate, but
hell, I’m grateful for it every time we meet.
His knees land on
the bed, as his weight makes the mattress dip slightly. He crawls
forward, grabs my thighs and jerks them upright, forcing me to kneel with my
legs wide. I comply, keeping my face to the bed, like I know he enjoys,
hoping to please him with that even if I won’t by swallowing his cum.
His fingers delve
into my pussy and then, move upward. I flinch at their presence at my
butthole, but know this is a punishment of sorts. He plays there, teasing
the rim, popping a finger inside then retreating, sliding one in to the hilt
and then urging another one inside. It’s hard to believe that in most
aspects of his life, Nate’s a gentleman. But in the bedroom, he drags me
out of my comfort zone and forces me to accept I’m no lady once I hit the
mattress.
He bends over me
and opens the bedside table. There’s nothing in there except flavored
condoms for when I give him a blowjob, and then lube. Lots of it.
Wedging his thick shaft in there is difficult and if it didn’t feel so fucking
good, I’d tell him not to do it.
I hear the sound
of liquid spurting out of the bottle and tense in reaction. I hear his
hand squelch slightly as he coats his cock and then the bottle’s there, at my
ass. I squeal as lube drenches the rosette, entering the pucker and
freezing me from the inside out.
A shocked
exhalation has me gripping the bed sheets, when I feel his cock already butting
against the rosette of my tush. A whimper escapes as he starts to push
in, deeper, deeper. The pop of the muscle giving way to his thickness is
almost audible, or at least, it feels as though it should be. As my ass
gives way to his invasion, I press my face into the sheets and absorb the
uncomfortable pleasure of his penetration. He rocks his hips back and
forth, spreading the pucker, making it accept him. Forcing my body to
take him.