Claire Currie didn’t know where she was. A sensual dream had awoken her and her surroundings felt strange. She was in a bed, which had been exceedingly rare for her these past few years. It had been ages since she had been allowed in a bed. There was a rich smell of leather in the air. Where was she?
The darkness gave her no answers. She rolled over on her back and remembered. She was at the Percer Mansion. They were spending the night, no, the entire weekend as guests of Mr. Percer. That’s why she had her own room instead of sleeping on the couch in a hotel room. Her boss, Mr. Dillon, had brought them here to accept a book from the head of the Percer family, Maximilian Percer.
The book! Claire reached out and felt for the book on the nightstand. The leather cover was cold to the touch. Claire smiled. “Rich Man’s Toy” was safe and sound. She couldn’t remember putting it away and she was afraid it might have fallen to the floor. Mr. Dillon would have killed her. No, he would spank her, pinch her and torment her before fucking her, but it would be his verbal cruelty that would be the hardest to endure. The book was priceless and it was only by begging her boss did he allow her to take the book to her bedroom to read tonight.
Claire thought about the things she had read tonight. As a librarian for the world’s greatest collection of erotica, Claire had read many great novels of porn but this book was something special. “Rich Man’s Toy” was so filthy. It was so raw and sensual. It told the tale of a wealthy woman who slept with her husband’s business partners. Every encounter was forbidden and filled with lust. Claire has masturbated twice to a scene where the woman, Lana, was fucked in the ass in a boardroom overlooking the New York skyline.
She pushed the covers away from her chest. Her hands went to her plump brown breasts and played with her nipples. Mr. Dillon insisted that she always sleep with no clothes so that he could fuck her with ease in the middle of the night. She wished he would come to her tonight. For a moment she thought about sneaking to his bed but she dismissed the thought. She served at his pleasure, not the other way around.
Instead of disobeying, Claire thought about their strange host, Maximilian Percer. Mr. Dillon explained that Percer came from a wealthy family but always wanted to write erotica rather than manage his family’s corporate interests. He was wealthy enough to buy his own publishing company but it was a point of pride that all of his novels were submitted to publishers under a pseudonym. Percer wanted his books to be printed because they were good. He managed to sell five books in the late sixties and then quietly retired.
Claire reached out and touched the book again. Percer was a proud man, but like most authors Claire had met, Percer thought his stories deserved better than the cheap paperback editions that were published in the 60’s. When he retired from writing, he decided to personally publish a deluxe edition of each of his books. He only had one copy of each book made. He used the finest leather covers, the most exquisite paper fibers and only the most skilled book binders for his works. It was every author’s dream version of what their book should look like.
“Every few years, he gives us a call,” Mr. Dillon had explained. “He calls to lets us know he is ready to part with another beloved book from his unique set. He knows that the Collette-Ashbee Collection is the only place in the world for his treasures. So we come, and we spend a few days as his guest. It is a time of celebration, but also of mourning. This year, he will give us the last book.”
“But why are his three children here?” Claire had asked. “Are they erotica fans too?”
Mr. Dillon had chuckled. “Not hardly. He always summons them when he gives away a book. He uses this time to give away more things from his mansion. It’s like a family will reading, except he does it in parts and wants to be around to see their reactions. I think it is the frustrated writer in him.”
Claire heard a sound in the darkness. She half rose in her bed. The absence of light was so complete that Claire couldn’t see the bed sheets on top of her.
“Mr. Dillon?” she asked.
A grunt answered her but the real answer was when she felt someone climb under her covers from the footboard. The unseen person burrowed under the sheets and pulled her legs apart. Under the covers, forceful hands pushed her thighs apart and she felt a mouth drop down on her pubic bush.
“Oh thank you!” Claire said. Mr. Dillon didn’t answer. He never did on these night intrusions. He thought it was beneath him to do so. He was here to take, and Claire was here to give.
He was particularly hungry tonight. Claire gasped as his mouth buried itself in her sex. Her sex opened before his tongue which licked her furiously. He found her clitoris instantly and she groaned as he bit down on it. His mouth sealed over her cunt while his hands clamped down on her thighs. There would be no escape until he was done eating her.
Claire grabbed her own heavy breasts. She wasn’t allowed to grab him. Mr. Dillon hated it when she would grab his head during oral sex. That was reserved for him alone. Claire learned to do other things with her hands and right now she was pinching her nipples delightfully hard. She was pinching them just like Mr. Dillon does.
“Oh fuck,” Claire groaned. Mr. Dillon was doing something amazing to her cunt. His tongue was doing some sort of odd rhythm, slapping against her clit in a wonderful manner. It was like a drum beat on her libido. Claire kept perfectly still for fear of disturbing his strange tapping pattern. His tongue was tapping a morse code on her clit, sending an urgent message to her coming orgasm.
Claire released her breasts and reached back for her headboard. Her fingers gripped the hard wood bar as her cunt was eaten. She tried to grind her hips but Mr. Dillon’s hands had her pinned to the bed. She was close, so close but the tongue was teasing her now. It stopped tapping her clitoris and was now lapping the juices from her sex. He was taking everything she had tonight. Every drop of desire and every ache in her sex was his tonight.
She felt her orgasm come slowly. Because Mr. Dillon was simply devouring her with no care for her own orgasm, Claire almost felt like she was getting away with something. Her breathing became faster. Her nipples were hard against the silky sheets. Her ass was clenched tight as she felt her orgasm about to bloom.
All it took a casual brush of teeth against her clitoris. Claire cried out with a shriek unbecoming of a librarian. Her body arched and undulated to the force of the orgasm. She sat up before falling back into the comforts of the pillows.
He licked her one more time and then let go of her thighs. Claire tried to thank him but she was breathless. The bed shifted as he moved away-
Claire awoke with a start. She moved her legs around and felt nobody on the bed. Claire reached between her legs and confirmed that yes, that amazing sex just happened. Her pubic hair was soaked and her cunt was still tingling.
Claire sighed. She wished she had stayed awake. She wanted to thank Mr. Dillon. She wanted to see if what pleasures he might want in return. It was rare for him to not use her for his own climax. Maybe he left because she fell asleep and he wanted her to rest. That would be unlike him, but Mr. Dillon did have his occasional flashes of kindness.
Claire rolled over and groaned as her sex kept tingling. She smiled in the darkness. What a fantastic night! Flush with afterglow, Claire reached out to stroke “Rich Man’s Toy” again.
The book was gone.
Where is the priceless book? What will Mr. Dillon say about Claire losing the book? More importantly, who ate Claire Currie? Find out by purchasing your paperback or pdf copy now at Lulu.