Channel: Forbidden Pleasures Part 14

"You'd hate yourself in the morning." Savannah cackled.

"I know," Emily said, wincing, and her best friend laughed harder.

The two women returned to the table, and dessert was ordered. Emily ate two plates of chocolate mousse, complaining when she saw the first serving that it was way too little. She washed them down with champagne, and then announced she was ready to go back to the inn. Outside, the two women air-kissed each other, and Lord Palmer insisted on giving Emily a kiss on the cheek, which was no more than an excuse to squeeze her a.s.s as his arm slipped about her waist and he pulled her close. He still had the hard-on. Well, at least Savannah was guaranteed a good night as well.

They began the drive back to the inn, but Devlin suddenly pulled off the road into a stand of trees. The engine had barely died when he was yanking her into his arms and kissing her hungrily. "He had a hard-on when he danced with you. Did he rub it against your p.u.s.s.y?" Devlin demanded.

"Yes," she whispered in his ear. "He still had it when he kissed me good night, and he squeezed my b.u.t.t. Are you jealous, Devlin?" she teased him, the tip of her tongue outlining the inside of his ear seductively.

"Did you want him?" His voice was rough, angry. "Did you think about what it would be like to have his c.o.c.k up your c.u.n.t, angel face?"

"I only want you, and instead of taking me back to our room, where we can f.u.c.k each other's brains out, you're raving at me in the car like a jealous lunatic. The thought of Reg Palmer as a lover disgusts me. If he were the handsomest, most charming man in the world I wouldn't screw him. He's my best friend's husband, and I do have some standards," Emily said icily. "Now start the d.a.m.ned car and let's get back. I am so hot for you right now I could die, Devlin!"

He groaned. "I'm sorry," he said. "I get jealous when I see him imagining himself with you."

"Why?" she demanded softly.

He wasn't certain he had heard her. "Why?" he repeated.

"Yes, why do you get jealous?" Emily said.

Why? Because he loved her, that was why! But he couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth, and remained silent.

"Do you like me, Devlin?" Emily said gently. "Do you get jealous of other men because you like me?"

"I think so," he admitted to her. "Yes, d.a.m.n it, that's it!" He sounded to himself like a moron. What the h.e.l.l was the matter with him that he couldn't tell her that he was in love with her? That he had never before loved a woman the way he loved her? But he couldn't say it, because if he did it would mean more to Emily than just a casual affair. Loving Emily meant forever. It meant children. It meant happily-ever-after, and Michael Devlin wasn't quite ready to admit that he had the same needs as other men: a desire for a mate, for offspring, for a warm place to come home to. And what if she didn't love him? What if it really had been all about the s.e.x, and nothing more? About her career.

"Turn the key in the ignition, Devlin," she said to him. "If you don't get those d.a.m.ned ivory b.a.l.l.s out of me soon I'm probably going to kill you. And incidentally, I like you too." There! She had said it. And she had heard him say it. He liked her! Was like shorthand for love? Men always found it hard to use the word love. Was like better than adore? When they got back to the States she was going to begin to put the pressure on Michael Devlin. She didn't want him just as a lover anymore. She wanted him as a husband, but getting confirmed bachelors to commit to forever-after was never a simple thing. Aaron had said their relationship was a forbidden one. But it didn't have to be. Why couldn't real life be as easy as her novels? She could manage the Duke of Malincourt, the Earl of Throttlesby, and their ilk. But could she manage to get a proposal of marriage from Michael Devlin? If she couldn't she was going to die an old maid, because Emily Shanski was not a woman to give her heart away more than once, and Devlin already had it.

Chapter 8.

"How does it work?" Emily asked Savannah. They were curled up together on Lady Palmer's large bed. Lord Palmer was in London, and Michael Devlin was flying back to New York even as she spoke. Emily could hardly wait to follow. Two nights ago she and Devlin had engaged in the most incredible s.e.x. She wanted more.

"Actually, it works just like the old one, except if you click the enter b.u.t.ton twice, both of us can enter the same fantasy," Savannah explained. "They're just trying it out with a few good customers worldwide. I haven't attempted it with a friend yet, but I thought this would be a great time to try it."

"I don't know, Savannah," Emily demurred.

"Now that you know what s.e.x is really all about," Savannah said, "aren't you just the tiniest bit curious to know the perverted side of it? I know you, Emily. If Devlin doesn't propose you'll never marry, and you probably won't take another lover in or out of the Channel. This is your chance to experience some naughtier aspects of s.e.x."

"Devlin and I have had oral and a.n.a.l s.e.x," Emily replied. "And he likes to spank me now and again."

"Ever had multiple partners?" Savannah replied. "Of course you haven't. There are things you should experience, if only once. You know you have the right to refuse or say no. And I'm going to be there too."

"Where?" Emily asked.

"London, 1870. I've created this fancy brothel called the c.o.c.k and c.u.n.t. I peopled it with a Madame Rose, pretty wh.o.r.es, and lots of randy gentlemen. Only wealthy gentlemen can afford the c.o.c.k and c.u.n.t. We'll be two of the girls. You'll be Molly, and I'll be Polly. We're cousins, and the men are all mad about us."

"I suspect I shouldn't ask," Emily said, "but what are we wearing?"

"Well, to begin with, we both have long, curly hair down our backs," Savannah said. "Do you want to change your color? I like my black hair, especially with my fair skin. Actually, I think your coloring is perfect."

"What are we wearing?" Emily asked again.

"Not a whole lot." Savannah giggled. "We have black silk stockings that are gartered at the thigh, and colorful short silk robes with sashes."

"How short?" Emily wanted to know.

"They barely conceal your p.u.s.s.y," Savannah admitted.

"Sounds very provocative," Emily noted. "I think I should have a narrower waist and bigger b.o.o.bs, though. What do you think?"

"Tiny waist and curving hips," Savannah replied. "Very fashionable, Em! And we'll be twenty. It's a perfect age! Then you'll do it with me?"

"I shouldn't," Emily said, "but a couple of hours without Devlin and I find myself getting very h.o.r.n.y, Sava. I don't know what the h.e.l.l has come over me; I seem to want s.e.x all the time. Sometimes I think I would have been better off to remain a virgin."

"No, you wouldn't have!" Savannah said. "Look, s.e.x is fun. And s.e.x on the Channel is not just fun; it's guilt-free. These fantasies are our secrets. We don't share them with the men we love, or even most other women. Men have their secret fantasies too. And some not so secret, like old Reg up in London boink-ing Gillian tonight. She's such a cow. I don't know what he sees in her, Emily."

"The forbidden," Emily said sagely. "Aaron says my relationship with Devlin is something forbidden." She sighed. "I never thought to fall in love with him. And if I'm in love with him, should I be cavorting on the Channel with other men?"

"The men we're going to cavort with are fantasy men. They don't exist in our reality, Emily. No guilt," Savannah repeated. "Besides, Devlin hasn't committed himself to you yet. And G.o.d knows, he's had plenty of other women in his time. He's your first," Savannah responded softly. "We'll have a great deal of fun, I promise you, and you know you can stop it anytime you want. But you won't want to stop, I'll wager."

"If I did, would I spoil your evening?" Emily wanted to know.

Savannah shook her head. "No, you wouldn't. I understand from the brochure I got that we can go into the Channel together, but we don't have to return together. Curfew, of course, is the same. We'll wake up here. We're the toast of the c.o.c.k and c.u.n.t, Miss Molly. The men all adore us, and we're Madame Rose's special pets because of it." She tilted her head to one side. "Are you ready for a wicked adventure?"

Emily laughed. Why not? she thought. In my reality I would never be unfaithful to Devlin, particularly if we marry. This is probably the only chance I'll ever get to be a wild child. And having Savannah with me is just perfect. She can always get me to attempt things I might otherwise never try. "I'm ready," she said.

Savannah pointed the channel changer at the large plasma-screen television. She clicked the on b.u.t.ton. She clicked the proper numeral. And there on the screen an elegant parlor came into view. The couches were upholstered in ruby-red velvet. They matched the heavy curtains covering the windows. The furniture was dark mahogany in the Empire style, with bright bra.s.s fittings. Some of the tabletops were of marble. The carpeting on the floor was of thick wool in the Oriental style. Everything was expensive and of the best quality, from the Waterford chandelier hanging from the center of the gilt plaster ring of fruit upon the ceiling to the decanters on a mahogany sideboard to the heavy gilt-framed paintings on the wall, which offered tasteful scenes of G.o.ds, G.o.ddesses, satyrs, nymphs, and centaurs in various s.e.xual pursuits.

In the middle of a large settee covered in purple-and-turquoise-striped satin sat a large, voluptuous woman in a beautiful bright green silk gown with a low neckline that showed a generous amount of her big snow-white b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Emeralds and diamonds sparkled around her neck and at her ears. Her red hair was drawn back in a chignon, which was decorated with creamy camellias. "Where are Miss Molly and Pretty Polly?" the woman said in a slightly rough voice that belied her elegant appearance. She looked about the large parlor, which was filled with several well-dressed gentlemen and a number of scantily clad young women.

Savannah double-clicked the enter b.u.t.ton. "Here we are, Madame Rose," she answered as she and Emily walked into the parlor.

Madame Rose looked both women over critically. "A prettier pair of soiled doves I ain't never seen," she said, smiling at them. She had big teeth, and they were faintly yellow with her age, for Madame Rose had seen a good half century. "Come and sit with me, my dears. I expect some of your regulars will be here soon enough tonight, and you'll be kept as busy as two little bees servicing their randy c.o.c.ks in your juicy cunnies." She cackled. She patted the settee where she sat.

"If we sit down the gentlemen will see our p.u.s.s.ies," Savannah simpered. Within the Channel in her guise of Pretty Polly she had lost fifteen years off her face. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were high and conical in shape beneath her short little robe of black silk. The color flattered her fair, creamy skin.

"They'll see your p.u.s.s.ies soon enough," said the madam with a chuckle, "and a pretty one it is, my dear. All those thick black curls. I am amazed that you and Miss Molly are related in the first degree of cousinship. You do not favor each other at all in either features or personality."

"Yet we are both fine wh.o.r.es, are we not?" Savannah said. "And you would not have had Miss Molly had I not convinced her to join me."

"True, true," the madam agreed. "And you are both excellent girls, obedient and adventurous, although Miss Molly must often be convinced. How the gentlemen love strapping her plump bottom until she agrees. No one can cry as well as Miss Molly," the madam said approvingly, and she patted Emily's round pink knee.

Emily had been silent from the moment they had entered the Channel. Her surroundings were fascinating. The idea of being a wh.o.r.e in a brothel was intriguing. She was wearing a sheer pale lavender silk robe that came just to her thighs. She might as well be naked, she thought, yet the garment suited her current state.

Suddenly a party of boisterous gentlemen entered the parlor. They were dressed in formal evening wear. Flinging their cloaks and hats to a little maid, they looked about them. Spying the two young women with Madame Rose, they made directly for the pair. The leader of the group s.n.a.t.c.hed up Madame Rose's hands and kissed them. She simpered at him.

"Bertie, you naughty boy, I know what you want, and you shall have it," she said with a wide smile, showing all her teeth.

"We want both of them, Madame Rose. There are six of us tonight, and we will need these two delicious wenches to keep us well entertained. May we have your special big room, or is it already taken?"

"I told you I knew what you would want." Madame Rose cackled. "I have saved the big room for your party. You will find champagne, well iced, and lots of toys awaiting you. Miss Molly and Pretty Polly have been eagerly awaiting your arrival," she a.s.sured the group. "Go along now, girls, with your fine gentlemen, and entertain them well," she ordered Savannah and Emily, pushing them gently from their places at her side.

"Come, sirs," Savannah said, taking the hands of Lord Albert Bowen and Sir William Cunliffe.

The Honorable Frederick Sinclair slipped an arm about Emily, grinning down at her lecherously. "Come, Miss Molly. I am longing for your kisses."

"And where would you like those kisses to be, Master Freddie?" Emily heard her alter ego asking. Then she giggled and patted his trouser front.

They reached what was known as the big room, and the gentlemen stripped off their coats and vests. Champagne was poured, and they drank liberally.

When the first bottle had been emptied, Lord St. Albans said, "Open your robes, girls, and display your treasures for us to see."

The two women obeyed, revealing their generous b.r.e.a.s.t.s and well-furred p.u.s.s.ies. Emily was rather fascinated by the amount of pubic hair she suddenly had: tight red-blond curls that overflowed from between her thighs. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were large and round, with very prominent nipples. St. Albans cupped one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s familiarly, tweaking a nipple, and it immediately stiffened for him.

Baron Everhard licked his lips slowly, and then said, "I want to see you two girls standing facing each other and rubbing your t.i.tties together."

Each girl cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in her two hands, and then, moving to face each other, began to rub their nipples against one another. Emily's nipples puckered again, and the men chuckled. She blushed, but Savannah just grinned mischievously at her and, leaning down, kissed Emily's right nipple.

"Move closer to each other, girls, put your arms around each other, and rub your p.u.s.s.ies against each other," St. Albans told them.

The men watched, two of them growing visibly excited by the little scene before them. Savannah leaned forward and kissed Emily's lips. Her fingers lost themselves in her companion's pubic curls, and Emily's eyes widened in surprise.

"Let's have a girl f.u.c.k," one of the men suggested. "It's always a good way to begin a long evening of f.u.c.king, frigging, and sucking."

"Capital idea, Johnnie!" another enthused.

"Wait!" St. Albans said, his eyes glittering with his l.u.s.t. "Why should we waste time watching the ladies when we could be f.u.c.king them ourselves? On your back, my adorable Miss Molly."

"Oh, sir, I am hardly ready for that fine man c.o.c.k of yours," Emily murmured, eyes wide, a single finger in her mouth, making her appear quite innocent.

"Then you shall have Master d.i.l.d.o and a little bottom birching to warm you up for me, my darling," St. Albans told her. "Gentlemen, if you two would take Mol's legs and bring them up and back so I may have perfect access to her cunny."

"She'll need to be prepared for the d.i.l.d.o," Sir William said. "Let me!" And, straddling the daybed, he leaned forward, and, drawing Emily's nether lips apart, he began to lick the pinkish flesh with a very skilled tongue.

Emily gasped with surprise, for she was being aroused by this strange man, and she wondered if that was right. But the tongue caressing her was most adept, and when he nibbled on her c.l.i.toris she could not restrain her squeal of pleasure.

Sir William got up, laughing, and removed himself from between Emily's legs. "Now, St. Albans, give her a bit of the birch, and she will be quite ready for you."

Emily yelped as St. Albans brought the birch rod against her plump b.u.t.tocks once, twice, and a third time. Then, taking the d.i.l.d.o, he carefully inserted it into Emily's v.a.g.i.n.a, whipped her three more strokes of the rod, and then began to move the d.i.l.d.o back and forth, slowly at first, and then with increasing rapidity.

Savannah lay down by her friend's side and murmured into her ear, "Pretend to come or he'll be at it all night. Just close your eyes and moan. Thrash your head too."

Emily closed her eyes. The leather d.i.l.d.o was more irritating than exciting. "Oh! Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!" Her strawberry-blond head rolled from side to side. "Ohhhhhhhh!" She stiffened her body and made herself shudder. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

St. Albans pulled the d.i.l.d.o from Emily's c.u.n.t. The bulge in his trousers was enormous. "Give Pol a good treat, boys, while I reward our Miss Molly with what she really desires," he said, unb.u.t.toning his trousers to release his p.e.n.i.s which, to Emily's eyes seemed even bigger than the nine-inch leather d.i.l.d.o. "Now, darling," he said, slipping between her thighs, "you have been such a good girl I'm going to let you have a taste of the real thing." He kissed her lips, his auburn mustache tickling her.

"Oh, sir, you are so very big," Emily said.

He chuckled indulgently, pleased by her observation. "Let's see how well you can take a ten-and-a-half-inch c.o.c.k." He began to push into her.

Emily wrapped her legs about his torso, and he grunted his approval. He was indeed very big, but to her surprise-or was it delight?-she took him in easily, purring in his ear with pleasure as he began to f.u.c.k her l.u.s.tily. His enthusiastic movements were arousing her, and without another thought she let herself enjoy the pleasure he was giving her, and that she was obviously giving him. She began to whisper in his ear, "Oh, sir, you are a bull, and I your little heifer. Oh, sir, I can feel your big b.a.l.l.s slapping against my bottom. What a lover you are, sir! Yes! Yes! Oh, yesssssss!" She nipped at his ear and then, sticking her tongue into it, pushed it back and forth in time with his movements.

St. Albans groaned with delight. The evening had only begun, and it was, he decided, a great success. Miss Molly and Pretty Polly were the finest wh.o.r.es he had ever encountered, and there was going to be so much more to come. His thrusts became more intense, and then as he felt her coming he loosed his juices into her with a yell.

Across the room Savannah was lying upon a chaise while Lord Bowen f.u.c.ked her enthusiastically and she sucked strongly upon the Honorable Frederick Sinclair's big c.o.c.k. Baron Ever-hard had his p.e.n.i.s in Bertie's a.s.shole, f.u.c.king him in time with Bertie's thrusts into her own p.u.s.s.y. The evening had begun quite well, Savannah observed. She watched as Sir William went over to where St. Albans lay with Emily.

"Let someone else have a go, St. Albans," he said.

"She needs a restorative, Willie," St. Albans said. "Mol is a wonderful f.u.c.k, but I can see she wants some champagne."

"Very well," Sir William agreed. "I'll get it for her."

Emily did not know until afterward, but the champagne was well laced by Madame Rose with aphrodisiacs to keep the desires of her wh.o.r.es and their patrons up for several hours at a time. The longer a patron spent with one of her girls, the more money she collected. Of course, in the case of certain girls, like Molly and Polly, they were sold for an entire night's entertainment, which included a midnight supper of champagne, raw oysters, and chocolate truffles; and a breakfast of eggs, country ham, kippers, toast, b.u.t.ter, jam, and tea.

Sir William handed Emily a gla.s.s of champagne. "Drink it down, my pet," he said. "After all I have seen so far this evening, I am more than ready to f.u.c.k you."

"Oh, sir." Emily giggled. "You are very naughty, but I will do my best to please you, I promise." She gave him a mischievous smile.

"If I am naughty," Sir William said, "then you must birch me, my pet, and I shall be even naughtier for you. Would you like to whip my bottom, Miss Molly?"

Emily was amazed by her reaction to this suggestion, and her own behavior as well. She put a thumb in her mouth and, sucking upon it, looked coyly at him from beneath her lashes. "Can I whip you hard?" she halflisped at him.

His amber eyes glittered with antic.i.p.ation. "As hard as you can, my pet. After all, bad boys need to be well birched if they are to perform well."

Now Savannah joined in the play. "He must be stripped naked," she said. "All of you must strip naked. Clothing inhibits one from fully joining in our little games."

Obediently the men took off their garments, and as they did the two young women folded the clothes and put them in a large mahogany cupboard on one side of the room. Then, going to the big basket of toys on the marble table with the round bra.s.s feet, Savannah took out a black leather collar decorated with bra.s.s studs from which hung a short bra.s.s chain. Wordlessly she handed the collar to Sir William. He looked at her questioningly.

"Put it on at once!" Emily said in a hard voice, falling right into the spirit of the game. "You will regret any further disobedience, Willie. Polly, choose a birch for me. One as thick as Willie's own index finger."

Gathered about them, the other men in the room grinned at one another.

"You should have the punishment bar, girls," Baron Ever-hard suggested. "Shall I fetch it for you now?"

"Ahh, the baron seeks to curry favor with you, Molly," Savannah said with an arch smile. "You will have to reward him for his good behavior."

"Oh, I shall," Emily promised with a little smile. "Yes, James, fetch the punishment bar from the cupboard like a good boy."

Grinning, Baron James Everhard walked across the room, opened the cabinet, and pulled out the required item. He drew the device across into the center of the chamber and, bending, locked the wheels so it would remain steady. An adjustable bar covered with lambs wool that was covered with silk rested between two narrow pilasters. Savannah led Sir William to the bar by his leash, which was then removed. He was bent forward, and the bar fitted to a height that would allow the lordling's bottom to be well displayed for his whipping. His arms were drawn out on either side of him and shackled so he could not flee. His legs were spread wide and shackled as well. He was quite helpless and ready to be punished. Savannah handed Emily the birch rod.

"Now, sir," Emily said in a stern voice. "You have admitted to being naughty. You will confess your fault, and then I shall decide how severe your punishment will be. What have you done, sir? The truth now!" She flourished the rod, which made a fierce swishing sound.