That Filthy Book (19 page)

As faces peered at me, I was sure people could feel my erotically charged state through the glass. My breasts swung, nipples growing heavier and more engorged by the second. My clit trembled with every tiny bit of friction walking created. If I hadn’t been so hugely excited I would have felt bad that I couldn’t smile at my audience, but I didn’t care, and it didn’t matter. They weren’t there to see me being polite, they were there to see me get fucked. Fucked by the big masked man who had lots of tools of the trade to ensure that I had an amazing time.

Eventually, Jacob led me to the bench in the middle of the room. The faces in the windows had all blurred into one—it was just lots of eyes, lots of fascinated expressions, lots of minds about to be filled with images of me, maybe to be brought out again as memories, fodder for fantasies.

Fuck. So erotic.

Jacob urged me to lie down, and as the cool of the leather seeped into my shoulder blades, he hoisted my legs up into the stirrups, spreading my pussy wide open, putting it in full view of the audience. I tried to remember who had been behind the windows that would have the best vantage point. Was it the woman with the up-do or another middle-aged man I’d spotted—a man who’d licked his lips as I’d walked past?

I couldn’t remember.

It. Didn’t. Matter.

Jacob was between my legs. I glanced down and saw him releasing his cock. Huge and swollen, it jutted from his new leather trousers, his abdomen tense, the neat row of muscles coated in a sheen of sweat.

Arching my back, I shifted on the bench, tried to angle my hips to him, but it was impossible. My legs, high and secured in the stirrups, rendered me his prisoner.

“You look so damn wanton, like a porn star or something,” he said, shoving his trousers down further, then stepping out of them.

There was a moment of shuffling and I guessed he was removing his shoes and socks.

“You look like you were made for sex, made for me, your dripping pussy, your big tits and your hot, tight arse. I’m going to fuck you so hard, so good in front of all these people. They all know what you want, whore. They know you’re a dirty little slut and you can take it, all of it, from me.”

Listening to him talk, revelling in his filthy words, Jacob caught me unawares when he plunged his fingers into my pussy.

The muscles in my back contracted and my neck bowed. He’d filled me quickly and roughly, was treating my body as though it was for his enjoyment, his penetration. I tossed my arms up and over my head, my shoulders stretching as he twisted and turned his fingers inside me. His knuckles scraped on my butt cheeks as he forged in, jabbing my cervix, pounding my G-spot. It was brutally horny, deliciously submissive.

His thumb scraped over my clit, and again I groaned behind the ball. I felt lightheaded and turned to my left. It took me a second to focus on a man and woman staring at me. I hadn’t noticed them before. He was sharply suited; she wore a sequined top and sat on his lap, her bush of red hair almost obscuring his view of me being hand fucked. I stared into his eyes as my body was jostled industriously, feeling the glorious first tug of an orgasm building. My tongue curled, as did my toes. Jacob was going to give it to me with his hand.

Suddenly, he pulled out. I whimpered in frustration, but then his cock was there and with one almighty thrust he surged in, banging the air from my lungs and moving my body up the bench. I turned back to him. His mouth was stretched in a feral grimace as he plundered in and out. My breasts jigged wildly, the clamps tugging and pulling as gravity added to their torment.

I was coming, it was there. Trying to shout, I released muffled grunts and wails that echoed, along with the slap of flesh on flesh, around the room. I felt almost mad with excitement at what was happening. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Fixated on my pleasure.

“Ah, yes, come, come…” Jacob shouted, slamming into me harder than ever before.

Every nerve in my body tingled then surged as my orgasm claimed me with a ferocity that bordered on violent. I twisted and writhed, no longer in control of my own being, pleasure my only sensation as my pussy clung to and released Jacob’s dick over and over. I closed my eyes as I swooped in and out of reality. That had been one incredible fuck, one seriously intense orgasm.

Jacob’s cock slowed and then, as my breathing settled, he pulled out.

He hadn’t come. His cock gleamed with my moisture, the head beet-red and swollen. I looked into his face but couldn’t make out his expression as he began to unstrap my legs.

Glancing at the windows, I noticed the first suited man I’d seen was masturbating. His hand had disappeared, but the tell-tale movements of his shoulder and his flared nostrils and set jaw gave the game away.

A thrill went through me. He’d obviously enjoyed the show so far.

Good.

My legs were both down. My hips complained, but I ignored them.

“On your hands and knees,” Jacob ordered. Then, clearly not feeling patient, he lifted and turned me over on the bench.

My palms sank into the soft leather, and I shifted my knees so they were right underneath me, ensuring my on-all-fours position was nice and symmetrical. I wanted to think about the details—there were lots of eyes casting their scrutiny over our performance. A performance, it seemed, that would now include Jacob fucking me from behind.

Or so I thought.

As my heart still pounded from the ferocity of my climax and I fought for air through my nose, a slippery, lubed finger delved into my anus. I jolted upwards in surprise, but Jacob quickly placed a firm hand on the small of my back.

“Relax,” he said hoarsely.

He worked the lubrication around my tight hole in deep, penetrating circles, greasing me up thoroughly inside and out.

I dropped my head and groaned. Once again, when not expecting anal play, Jacob was giving it to me. Once again I adored the depraved sensation. Performing such a base, primitive act in front of our audience made it seedier, all the more scandalous.

They could all see how much I adored my rear hole being breached. There was no hiding the clawing of my fingers on the side of the bench, the ecstatic fluttering of my eyes.

Two fingers worked my passage now, demanding more give.

“Ah, yes, open up, like that,” Jacob murmured, stretching me wide. “So pretty, so pink, so soft, so ready now.”

He slipped his fingers from me, and my thighs and spine braced for the invasion, though I kept my arsehole loose and pliant—
Oh, God, that fucking word turns me on
—waiting for his dick to widen my sphincter. I was hardly able to contain my excitement, and had I not been gagged I would have been shouting for it.

But what I felt against my hole wasn’t the smooth head of his cock. It was cool and domed and unyieldingly hard.

My mind fuzzed; I gasped. It was the end of the flogger we’d brought with us from the hotel room. The one I’d used as a dildo the afternoon before.

I squirmed, and his hands, coated in my juice and lube, slid around my stomach and gripped me, holding me up and exactly where he wanted me.

“Take it,” he said. “It’s what your audience wants to see. You with your arse stuffed full, a big, thick handle penetrating your slutty hole, and they know you’re going to love it. It’s going to make you want to come all over again. Take it, whore, take it.”

His horny words washed over me, and I tried to relax more, allow the handle to penetrate me. I dripped with lube, my arsehole pre-stretched.

“Good girl, just let me do it.”

He increased the pressure and the dome popped into me, wide and cool. It stung like crazy, creating a dark, twisted pleasure in my gut. I groaned loud and abandoned, the deep rumble in my chest vibrating through my teeth and jostling the ball in my mouth.

“Yes, that’s it,” he murmured. “Now take a few inches.”

I shut my eyes, riding on sensations that tingled from my poor abused nipples to my recently stimulated clit and onto my buggered portal. My unruly body clenched around the rod, disobeying my will to relax, but the clasping sensation just heightened my arousal, fed yet more stimulation to my clit and pussy.

“Yes, that’s it, that’s enough,” Jacob said as he released me. “Now arch your back.”

I hung my head and groaned again.

“Do it,” he said more firmly. “Arch your back and hold your head high. Look around at the people staring at you.”

His body heat left me.

“This is what you wanted, Karen. This is what’s in your filthy book. A shocking, lewd show for strangers. Allowing people to see you at your most primitive, receiving pleasure you can barely even admit to thinking about, let alone taking, let alone allowing spectators to watch.”

I opened my eyes. The gothic young couple were kissing. He had one eye on me, his hands inside the girl’s top. I imagined their excitement and it upped my own. Next to them a suited man had his palm flat on the window and his nose pressed against the glass. Further along the row yet another man appeared to be wanking, and a woman with tatty blonde hair chewed gum as she stared at me.

Next to her was the club’s receptionist.

“You know what they’re thinking, don’t you?” Jacob said in his best ‘rapist’ voice. “They think that not only are you a filthy, horny bitch, but that you also look like a horse. You’ve got a bit in your mouth so I can control you and a great big tail coming out of your arse. Oh, if only you could see your slutty self. Your breasts swinging and heavy with the metal clamps and the fronds of the flogger touching your thighs.”

I didn’t need a mirror to imagine the shocking sight I was at that moment in my life.

“Twitch your tail,” Jacob said. “Go on, shake your tail.”

Trying to be obedient, I jerked my hips and the soft strands of the flogger swept over my clammy thighs. The heavy handle shifted inside me, and I groaned at the illicit sensation.

“More.”

I repeated the action, the penetration deepening with each movement. I was so invaded, so possessed—stuffed almost to bursting point.

“Yes, that’s it. In fact, you deserve a treat for that little show.” He came to the head end of the table. “Drop down to your elbows.”

I did as he asked, and my face came level with his bobbing cock.

He fiddled at the back of my head, and the ball slid from my mouth.

“I need your mouth free for this next bit,” he said, dropping the gag to the floor. “Oh, no, keep your mouth open.” He squeezed his hands on my cheeks and forced my jaw to stay wide. “Here, take me, all of me.”

He tugged at his shaft and offered forward his shiny, eager cockhead.

I salivated and would have licked my lips if I could.

He rode in, not fast and furious, just so the domed underside of his glans sat past my teeth.

“Oh, yes, fuck, look at everyone watching, watching me sinking into your mouth. Your mouth, your arse, your pussy, it all belongs to me. Brace for it, slut, I’m going to give you every bit of my big, hard cock.”

I lapped at the cream in his slit and pulled his taste onto my tongue. The flavour of my cunt was mixed with his musky rawness. Since he’d paused, I flicked at his frenulum, knowing it drove him crazy, gliding around the tiny, taut band of skin and tapping it sideways in small zigzag movements.

“Ah, Jesus, that feels good. And fuck, what a horny bitch you are with your tail in the air and your lips around my dick.” With that, he sank deep, plunging his salty thickness to the very back of my throat.

I battled to take all of him, fighting my gag reflex.

“Ahhh, yes, yes,” Jacob hissed, catching hold of my head in his palms. “Yes, take it, take me, you can do it.” His voice was tremor-filled, lust-infused, and judging by the steeliness of his shaft, he was close to the edge.

Setting up a quick, steady rhythm by bobbing up and down, I used all my best oral skills—tightening my lips, sucking hard and gulping his glans down my throat when he reached maximum penetration.

“Oh, fuck, I’m too close.” He pulled out. His cock looked angry, and he fisted it and stepped away.

“Jacob,” I gasped, reaching forwards for him.

“Keep still.”

His long, naked body disappeared from my view. Then he was behind me again, pulling me to the end of the bench and lowering my feet to the floor. The flogger was still in my arse. The handle moved and rolled as my position changed, causing me to gasp and clench it.

“Look at the windows,” he said. “Look at your audience. They want to know you’re aware of their presence. Look, Karen, look. Show them you care.”

I raised my head, stared around at the faces. Some were tense and wide-eyed, others relaxed but interested. I settled my concentration on the receptionist, looked into her face and wondered if she was wishing she were in my position with Jacob doing all of this stuff to her.

I’d bet my damn filthy book she was.

“Ahh, ahh,” I cried, screwing up my eyes and rising to my tiptoes.

Jacob was moving the handle inside me.

“Shh,” he said. He pulled the flogger out, and there was a thump as it fell to the floor.