Chapter 10
While Arnold and Rowena were up in the Fantasy Room, one of several on the west wing, and playing their quaint game of bondage, Mona and the blond stud, Ashton, were into a game exclusively their own.
Mona had seen Arnold pass by with Rowena, a woman she'd known in London, that time with the Welsh actor, who had a taste for light spanking. Arnold, she thought, would really enjoy himself this night, and a stab of envy went through her.
When Arnold had passed, she had been talking to Ashton, the superstar in tennis over in England, who she knew fitted into Rowena's life style.
Mona therefore felt curious, for the very reason that Ashton seemed to fascinate Rowena. He could not be an ordinary lover to nail down a woman like Rowena.
Her own intake of him was mostly that of a super-stud, a blond athlete, a hotshot tennis player who made all the big money tournaments, and who had, in fact, collected a quarter of a million in prize money last year.
As for Ashton, he was delighted to be talking with the delicious Mona Jones, one of the world celebrities. Over in England, Mona was thought of as American royalty, and Ashton, who liked to be seen with prominent people, was absolutely tickled to be talking to Mona. It put "him on a nice social level, he thought privately. He couldn't help looking closely at her delicious boobs with their nipples pushing against the purple silky shirt.
Ashton was twenty-two, at the height of his athletic power, and Mona, of course, was an easy thirty-three, he guessed. But he liked mature women, busty, well-hipped women, Mona, as everyone knew from pictures flashed nude of her, once grabbed in Australia, had one of the most exquisite bodies in the history of females. Ashton was an ardent student of the female anatomy although, when he competed he avoided all sex.
He had at least two. weeks before his next tournament, over in Wimbledon, and it gave him leeway for a few sex games.
If you were just to glance at Ashton, it would never occur to you that he was anything but a clean-Cut, clean-living athlete, and that his tastes had to be very conventional.
But actually his sex tastes were slightly off beat, as Mona suspected just from the fact that he fraternized with Rowena.
Like Rowena, he had quite an appetite for the more vigorous, even the punitive aspects of sex.
Just now, they were chatting.
"How was your tennis year, Ashton?"
"I had rather a good year, Miss Jones," he said confidently. "I took the singles in Brisbane, took second place in Dallas. But it was so blisteringly hot down there, I'm not much when it comes to play in degree heat. It's inhuman. You Americans really should control your weather better."
And he smiled his boyishly charming smile that he found always knocked out American women.
Mona was a bit impressed, but mostly because he looked like superstud. He had this hefty chest with blond hairs, and a rather powerful set of shoulders. He seemed to fit more, by his appearance, into the rugged American mold.
She couldn't help picture him nude and with a probably stalwart cock.
"You're into Wimbledon this season, aren't you."
"Wouldn't miss it."
"What do you think of our number one boy in tennis? He thinks he's going to take Wimbledon."
"He's a loud-mouthed egotist, in my opinion. We'll have to see what happens. Tennis is a funny game. Unless you are absolutely right in all things, you can really flip out. You can be off, just a bit off, and your whole game goes to pot."
He seemed very earnest in his discussion of the game and she found it charming.
They picked up martinis off a tray offered them, and chatted a bit more.
Finally, she asked, "Is tennis your only sport?" Her eyes hit him straight, so they could be no vagueness.
"In season, it is Mona." He sipped his drink looking directly into her eyes. "Otherwise, I rather like the indoor sport. Quite a lot, in fact."
"I would suspect that, the way you look."
"How do I look, Mona?"
"Like a hungry tiger."
He grinned. "Well, perhaps you bring out the tiger in me, Mona."
"I should like to see that," She said, smiling, and looking deliberately at his bunch-up.
The message was unmistakable, and Ashton's super-shaft went into its super hardening, making his pants bulky.
"Have you seen the west wing?" she asked. "I think you might find it very interesting."
"I'd love to see the west wing."
She took him to one of the Fantasy Rooms modeled in a Roman style at the period of its most colorful decadence.
The door shut behind them, and the bolt sprang automatically.
"I have you now, my proud beauty," he said, feeling his cock straining for its target.
"I don't know who has who," she smiled.
He went into a fast hard clinch, pulling her tight, and grinding his cock against her crotch as he kissed her.
"Mmm," she said, more from contact with that noble beast whose pulsations she could feel through his fine cotton slacks.
His hands were all over her breasts, through the open shirt, and he pulled on her erect nipples with his fingers. And then his hand went down to her zipper, which he opened, and he got his finger into her pussy, finding it wet and juicy.
"You do have a lovely cunt," he said. "Shall we undress?"
Mona was amused at his cool as they undressed, amused at his English charm, then-in almost wide-eyed admiration at the size of his cock, a bristling, bulky slab of meat with a fiery head that seemed urgent about its target.
"You do have a lovely cock," she said politely.
He stared at her, and his eyes narrowed, almost with hostility.
"I would like you to eat the monster." His voice was surprisingly hard.
"Not quite, my lad," she said, naturally expecting a more delicate approach to the charms of sexual dalliance.
She was not at that moment aware of Ashton's real personality in the bedroom, which emerged with brutal force.
His eyes became steely, his mouth became a hard, thin line, and he grabbed her, pulled her over to the bed unceremoniously, pulled her over his lap, so that her luscious butt was up, and smartly slapped her ass with his palm five times, sharp, vicious slaps. And during it, he ground his ponderous prick into her pussy.
To say this shocked Mona was putting it mildly, because Mona could not conceive of such a vulgar punishing violation of her person. After all, her social antecedents were impeccable, her name was a household word for glamour, and she had been married to one of the world's richest men.
Still, and in spite of all that, this English lout, so blond and clean-cut, had the nerve to lambaste her ass!
Her first impulse was to cry out, then lash out, then to rip at his face with her fingernails.
"When I tell you to eat my cock, you do it, my fine lady, or you'll get your ass really whipped." His accents were so precisely British, yet the words seemed to come out of a 'degenerate' sadomasochistic creep!
Mona then thought of Rowena, and the whispers that she got her kicks from light kinky sadism. Well, this blond stud had been her bedmate before, and he apparently had developed the taste for brutal sex.
Up to now, Mona had not seen any particular pleasure in going through pain to find an orgasm, but she was not a woman who closed her mind to variations in the bedroom.
Apparently, she thought, he wanted a submissive female, one he could punish if she did not play the bondage game. Well, she would try it, and if it did not please her, she would tell him to stop or she just might literally eat his cock, leaving him just the stump!
Thinking like this, she said. "All right, Ashton, I am ready now."
"You bet your sweet ass, you bitch. And don't give me any sauciness. Do what you're told, or I'll turn your ass purple."
With her tail still smarting from his spanking, she slipped down on her knees, in front of him, and put her world-famous face over his burly monster of a cock.
And she began to suck.
Mona, it has been reported here, had some artistry to her mouthwork, for she had in her time sucked some of the distinguished cocks, but she hadn't quite got started with Ashton, when this little tennis turd began to complain.
"C'mon, you bitch, get on the stick. Really suck. Get it down your throat or I'll ram it down."
And then, grabbing her head with his two hands, he began to pump his cock into her mouth, pulling her head back and forth for more pleasure.
She felt herself totally violated by this brat, but at the same time an electric current of passion streaked through her cunt.
It was such a violent unexpected turn-on, that it could only come from his brutal treatment of her! He drove his bristling, beastly cock deep into her throat so that she thought he was halfway down her esophagus.
"Get your tongue working, bitch," he snarled.
Then, before she even realized her own activities, she had grabbed his cock and was eating it more ferociously than any other in her vast experience. It was a savage onslaught of thrills ripping through her cunt that motivated her. Where the thrills came from mystified her. She suspected it had to be his stupid sadistic slashing at her. Somehow it had released a hidden side of her personality that really gloried in humiliation!
She was stupefied, even as she frantically let him fuck her throat with his cock. She had always before this thought of herself as the arrogant partner in sex coupling, and nothing in her bedroom experience had contradicted it.
But here she was behaving like a slave to this tennis twerp, eating his cock like he was King Kong.
It was strange, it was bizarre, in fact, but she loved it, because of the excruciating sex tingles that she got from it in her cunt!
As for Ashton, he grabbed her head and started to hump her mouth with hard, hammering thrusts. He would teach this snotty American bitch what kind of a game she was in. He had his theory about certain woman. The more snotty they acted, the more sinister you treated them, because all that snootiness was a disguise for the very opposite feeling they were trying to smother. They had powerful slavish urges, and they needed to give expression to them. Only the brutal treatment would bring it out, especially if you gave to them suddenly, caught them off guard, before they had time to mobilize their defenses.
Women like Mona, he suspected from the beginning, had a deep streak of masochism, needed a burly slob like him, to put them in contact with it. Ultimately, they went crazy with joy, though at first, they acted outraged.
He had learned this years ago, by luck, with a snotty daughter of a duke, whose blood was pure blue, and whose ass was all white, who had to be spanked before she could even begin to enjoy sex.
He did not do this sort of thing with all women, just special ones, who didn't even know, at the time, that they craved humiliation, wanted to be slaves, wanted to be abused, even though they showed that superior front to the world.
He had tasted that feeling the moment that he met Rowena, knew that in spite of her fiery liberated front, a part of her yearned to be spanked.
It was hilarious to Ashton, and he found that he got some fine kicks from it himself, since his natural instinct was dominating. The same push that he experienced in tennis, fighting for every point, frantic to win, struggling for mastery over a competitor-that same push fed his pleasure for acting brutally in the bed.
He looked down at, her now, the magnificent Mona, with her mouth doing everything she could to please him. She had got down on his balls and was working on them lovingly, then back to the shaft, licking it, then stuffing his cock deep deep into her throat, as if she had to swallow the whole thing, holding his balls.
He felt his cock tense up, a purple swollen brute in her mouth, as it suddenly enlarged and exploded, the cream pouring into her mouth, against her throat, and she holding it deep, firmly, so that he could see the swallowing muscles of her throat as she gulped all his cream, never losing a drop!
She had performed right, holding onto his cock as it poured more juice into her, holding it until it softened, keeping it there, licking it submissively, for she was admitting the power flowed from his phallus, and her pleasure came from pleasing it.
She would not make a move until he finally put his hand on her head, indicating that she had done okay. Then she looked up at him, like a dog might for a kind word from its master.
"You did okay," he said, and gave her his sporting, gracious smile, the one he put out on the courts after he had slaughtered his opponent.
Mona felt exquisitely light-hearted and totally fulfilled, for she had had an incredible orgasm when he came.
And she was thinking that she would have to try the spanking routine with Arnold sometime soon.
After that, they took a shower, soaping each other with a thick lather. They pierced all the passionate apertures for total cleansing.
Then they went back to the bed and gave her cunt a marvelous tongue lashing, for he was a super-athlete, so that even his tongue had muscles. She felt a zinging rush of sensations, and when she went off, her cunt vibrated like a violin.
Then Ashton calmly sat on her face and told her to lick his ass and do a good job or else!
Ashton thought it a real trick when he felt her tongue go into his tail, for there was something pleasingly sexy sitting on Mona and hex famous face, and to have her titillate the nerves of his ass with her tongue. Something she did brilliantly.
Snotty cunts should have their tongues up a guy's tail, Ashton thought, for he was a real male chauvinist.
She got her tongue in deep, spreading his cheeks, for she yearned to do a good job, wanting to please him. He might beat her ass again, she thought, if she spited him. Her tongue snaked into his ass, and she kissed the soft velvety flesh with passion.
She found herself astonished at the intensity with which she responded to his brutal directions, and the way that she teamed up with his games, totally eager to participate.
He made her feel young, with his twenty-two-year-old body, hard as iron, beautifully trained down from his years of tennis.
He made her feel like a teenager, and when he finally turned around, and put his big, burly cock in her cunt, she heaved a sigh of pure ecstasy.
His giant slab of meat stuffed her cunt marvelously and the nerves of pleasure quivered with joy as his cock slid in and out of her, especially when he felt the tingles begin to start.
He grabbed her ass, held it firmly as he drove his cock deep into her cunt, while she gyrated her ass, her cunt sucking at his cock, with squeezed muscles.
When he went off in her, she felt the scads of juice flow hotly in the depths of her cunt, which again sent her into an orgasm.
She grabbed his hard, sinewy body about the waist and pressed him to her breasts.
"You're a marvelous lover, Ashton," she murmured.
And Ashton smiled, thinking that the snotty bitches all loved him, because they loved his abuse.
Women are weird birds, he thought.