Voices of Lust

  Voices of Lust

  Nicci Haydon

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2016 Nicci Haydon

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Blowy Day

  Anonymous (Part 1)

  Poolside

  Raising Interest

  Anonymous (Part 2)

  Peep Show

  Sisters, Sisters

  Are they…?

  Anonymous (Part 3)

  About Nicci Haydon

  Also Available

  Blowy Day

  I was still laughing at the revelation. “I can’t believe you would do something like that,” I said, nudging into Gavin playfully. “You, of all people. Skinny dipping? Here?”

  To me, it didn’t seem that Scotland was at all the place for swimming in the nude. Ice cold sand crunched beneath our feet and we wrapped ourselves in each other’s arms for warmth. There wasn’t another soul about except for the gulls. They screeched overhead and a small clan of them paddled by the water’s edge, gathered about a large fish that had been washed ashore.

  “Don’t be a prude!” He said, chuckling.

  “I’m not a prude, I’m just shivering at the thought of it.”

  The wind blew against us loudly, bringing with it a whiff of salt and seaweed. It carried on through the pines behind us, making them shiver.

  “Well, that’s because you’re a delicate wee lily-livered Englishwoman.” He overplayed his accent, but it was still cute. It was one of the things that attracted me to him in the first place and he knew it. “We Scots are hardier folk.”

  “Oh really?”

  He nodded. “Aye.” He turned and grinned at me. “And you’re a prude.”

  “I am not!” I laughed.

  He stopped walking. “Prove it. Get your kit off.”

  “No way, I’ll freeze.”

  “There’s nobody here except us.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Prude.”

  I pouted and put my hands on my hips. “Fine.” I pulled my hair back from my face, then knelt in the sand in front of him. I started to unbutton his jeans.

  “Hailey, what are you doing?”

  I ignored him, once I had the button undone I pulled down the zip.

  He laughed. “OK, OK, stop.”

  “No way.” I shook my head as I opened his jeans and slid them down. He was wearing white boxers underneath and it looked like he was semi-erect. “There’s no-one here but us, you said so yourself. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

  “OK, Hailey – Hey! Stop!”

  I had my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and had started to tug them down but his hands grabbed the front and held them in place. He was laughing, but he was also desperate to stop me.

  “Come on, big boy, I thought this was your favourite skinny dipping spot.”

  “That was fifteen years ago, I was just a stupid teenager.”

  I tried to peel his fingers away but couldn’t, so I just tugged on the boxers instead. I won. They tore. His cock sprang free, impressive given how cold it was.

  “Hailey, seriously, what if someone comes?” He was still laughing.

  I shrugged. “I’m hoping you will.” With that I took him in my mouth and sucked gently as I slid my fingers along his shaft. He gasped and coughed as my tongue caressed the head.

  It didn’t take long until he started to moan. Seconds later he filled my mouth. I stood, smiled, swallowed and kissed him.

  “Now say sorry,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “Calling me a prude.”

  He laughed.

  “Say it, Gavin!”

  “Hailey, I will never dare call you anything like that again.”

  I grinned and started walking while he pulled his jeans up. “Come on,” I said, “let’s get back to the cottage. This delicate wee Englishwoman wants breakfast. You’re cooking.”

  Anonymous (Part 1)

  The hotel restaurant wasn’t busy at that time of the day. I watched two ladies opposite me, both dressed stylishly, as they chuckled and ate tiny bites of cake. Probably all they could afford. More than I could afford.

  Except that I was on a spending spree.

  The paper bag beside me held brand new lingerie. Black. Lacy. Very expensive. Coffee – one for him and one for me – steamed in dainty cups, set on dainty saucers. I breathed in the sharp odor. Afterwards, once he had gone, I might order the lobster. That would put a serious dent in the credit card.

  The bark of a motorcycle engine turned heads, but not mine. I kept facing forward. I couldn’t see what they were looking at, but of course I knew. I had arranged this. The two ladies put aside their cake, talked in a hushed whisper as they stole glances at the door. The bell rang as someone entered, bringing with him the sounds of the sea. Gulls screeching, children laughing. I picked up my coffee.

  It’s odd that the more expensive the coffee, the more bitter the taste. People like bitter, rough coffee, just as people like bitter, rough sex. Men lust after girls with a mean streak, while women go for lumberjacks or bank robbers.

  Or bikers.

  I set the cup down, stirred it so that the spoon clanked against the inside, then tapped it loudly on the rim. Once. Twice. Three times.

  Leather creaked, footsteps fell, and a moment later he appeared in front of me. He placed his hands on the back of the chair, dirty fingertips poking out of fingerless gloves. But he remained standing. Our eyes met as I craned my neck. His right eye was a dark gray-green, like engine oil. The other was ghostly white. A scar cut through it from the bridge of his nose to the cheekbone.

  “Sit,” I said, and waved a hand at the chair. The ladies whispered. I ignored them.

  He didn’t move. “Are you –”

  “Don’t speak.”

  There was a click as his teeth came together, but he kept his lips parted. It was a feral thing, and I felt the dampness begin between my legs in response. His eyebrows came together.

  “Sit,” I repeated, a little thrill running up my spine when he pulled out the chair and obeyed.

  “Listen, lady –”

  “I said don’t speak.”

  I watched his response. Shoulders tensed. Wide shoulders. Strong. There was muscle there. The way he was looking at me I could tell he was getting angry. Perhaps, if we were alone, or if he wasn’t out of his comfort zone, he would have bent me over the table right there. Taken me from behind. As it was, he just stared. Long, blonde hair, streaked with grey, fell in thick, unruly curls. Lined, leathery skin.

  For a moment, I thought about running off with him. I could be the whore for his whole motorcycle gang. Fucked by them, one by one. Would my age matter? I doubted it. His eyes said he wanted to get inside me. Involuntarily, I sat up straighter, felt my nipples brush against my loose top. I hadn’t bothered with a bra.

  “Yes. You’ll do,” I said.

  “What the fuck?” He slammed his hands on the table, made me jump as he stood up, pushing his chair back with a squeak. “I’ll do? Look, I’m
just here because of an ad pinned on the notice board.” He shook his head. “Forget it.”

  I laughed as he turned his back on me. A skull, red and yellow, was inexpertly stitched to the back of his jacket.

  “Wait,” I said. “Stop.”

  He turned back around, ground his teeth together, didn’t say a word. Good, he was learning.

  “Here.” I opened my purse, took out a keycard and held it out to him. “Nine o’clock. Sharp. No earlier, no later.” I raised an eyebrow.

  After a moment, he snatched the card from my hand and stalked away, slamming the door on his way out. I had to take a deep breath and shift my weight to prevent the juices running down the inside of my legs.

  As the motorcycle engine revved, I ignored the gazes of the other customers. “Waiter!”

  Time for the lobster.

  Poolside

  His shadow blocked out my sunlight.

  One moment I was lying back, relaxing, eyes closed – the heat of the sun warming my bare skin, bronzing me. Then all of a sudden it was gone. I didn’t open my eyes. I assumed that whoever it was would move on. But they didn’t.

  “Do you mind? You’re blocking my sun.”

  I opened my eyes and as they adjusted to the light –

  Fucking hell.

  He was gorgeous. No wonder he was blocking my light with shoulders like that. And so tall. He could have been a hundred miles away and he’d have still blocked out my light. Skin the colour of coconut shells and coarse dark hair over a bare chest. How I stopped my jaw from dropping open, I have no idea.

  “Apologies,” he said, and he had some sort of Eastern European accent but Jesus Christ who cares where he was from? “Is the seat taken?” He didn’t look at the lounger beside me, he was too busy staring at my boobs. My bare boobs. I could feel my nipples hardening and felt self conscious. But it was one of those situations – I was embarrassed to have them on display and I was embarrassed to make a move to cover them.

  I glanced across at the pool. Julie was still swimming up and down. She hadn’t noticed him, she wasn’t coming back to her seat any time soon. “Er, yeah, sure,” I said, and patted the seat like an imbecile, cringing inside even as I did it.

  Sunshades allow a certain level of anonymity. Nobody can really see where you’re looking. I took that opportunity and looked down his body. Toned. Definitely toned. Was he a bodybuilder? Maybe. He was wearing a pair of very tight swimming trunks and it was obvious that he was enjoying the view. His cock strained at the front, but he didn’t seem to care. He turned and dropped a towel onto the lounger beside me, then dropped himself onto it.

  There was a pop, then the sweet, sickly scent of sun lotion.

  “Your friend,” he said. “She is fit… keep fit?”

  “Julie?” I laughed. “Yes, much more than me.”

  “You are more for relaxing. Sunbathing.”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “You are very pretty.”

  I felt my stomach clench. I was about to thank him when –

  “Your friend is very pretty also.” The sun lotion squelched out of the tube. I turned and watched him slick it over his heavy chest. “Don’t you think so?”

  I laughed.

  “You don’t think she’s pretty?”

  I glanced over at Julie. Water splashed in her wake. “I guess so,” I said. “I wouldn’t really know.”

  “I think you do know.” He didn’t look at me. He continued applying lotion on his skin, then his hand slipped under the waistband of his trunks. It was only for a second but… did he just touch his cock? “Wouldn’t you like to touch her?”

  The thought flitted through my mind, quick as the shadow of a gull over the beach. I shifted uncomfortably on my lounger, took a deep breath.

  He laughed. It sounded like a lion stretching. “You should not feel embarrassed. You are both very beautiful.” He turned and looked at me, this time meeting my eyes. His smile was easy, his face relaxed. He was a little older than me but not much. Grey eyes.

  Why do I suddenly want to climb on top of him? Why do I want to fuck him right here, in full view of the hotel?

  He turned away. “Do you wonder what it would feel like?”

  I could feel my heart racing. “What?”

  “If she touched you. If she ran her fingers over your nipples.”

  He slipped his hand inside his trunks, and this time there was no doubt. It stayed there for a moment, massaging, then he pulled it away and let out a sigh. The breeze caressed my nipples. The way Julie might caress them.

  “I think you would like it if she did.”

  His hand slipped inside his trunks again. I tried to get comfortable, but my bikini briefs were sticking to my legs. It’s just sweat, I told myself, knowing that it was a lie. He continued masturbating as if it was completely normal. Anyone could walk past at any moment. We might not even hear them coming.

  “Think about her hand between your legs,” he said. “Her fingers against your lips.”

  My mouth was dry. I couldn’t have answered him, even if I had an answer to give. I glanced across at Julie. She was oblivious. She kicked off from the near end of the pool, gliding through the water. My hand drifted down over my stomach. The waistband of my briefs was tight. I slid my fingers underneath, found my pussy.

  “Her fingers, slick with your juices.”

  I masturbated, gasping as my fingertip rubbed against my clit then slipped inside my vagina.

  “Her laugh in your ear.”

  I could hear Julie’s high pitched laugh. Mischievous. I rocked on my lounger, the sound of it providing a beat for my movements.

  “Her small breasts rubbing against yours.”

  How did he know what she looked like? The thought only lasted for a moment. My head filled with lust and I closed my eyes. I didn’t hear his voice again. I masturbated, letting my fingers slide in and out, gasping, gulping, bleating. I didn’t care if anyone saw me or heard me. When I orgasmed it was like a blowtorch blasting over me. I gasped a few breaths, then opened my eyes.

  He was no longer there.

  As I calmed down I heard the splash of water as Julie pulled herself out of the pool. The pat of her feet over the tiles. I turned to look at her.

  “Could you pass my towel?” She ran a hand through her short hair. “I don’t want to drip on you.”

  I couldn’t help staring. She was pretty.

  A smile spread over her face, her eyes narrowing. “What?” She shivered as the breeze cooled on her wet skin.

  I took a breath. “Nothing,” I said, and passed her the towel.

  Raising Interest

  The room was stiflingly hot, making me shift in my seat. I watched a drip of sweat form on the top of Mr. Peterson’s head, shining in the light from the window. Lazily it rolled down his forehead. When it reached his eyebrow he shook his head and wiped it away.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Green -”

  “Ms.”

  He looked up from his computer screen. His face was lined, but strong. Firm jaw.

  “Separated,” I explained.

  He nodded, his eyes softening a little. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to say no.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t unexpected.

  Nodding, I leaned forward and collected my papers. Mr. Peterson averted his eyes from the view down my top. I hadn’t done it intentionally, but I smiled nevertheless. It was very polite of him.

  I didn’t sit back down. “Is it your choice?”

  He met my eyes and raised an eyebrow.

  “Whether to give me the loan or not.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to persuade you?” I pulled at the collar of my top, giving him a better view. “It’s very hot in here.”

  “Mrs.… Ms. Green, what are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Slowly, I climbed up onto the desk, kneeling in front of him. “Nothing at all.”

  “Ms. Green, please stop.”

>   “Alice,” I said. “If you like.”

  “No, I don’t. Ms. Green…”

  I lifted the hem of my skirt, inching it higher on my thighs, then let it drop before I showed anything. I laughed. He had fallen silent. His head was covered in sweat. I grinned and reached out a hand. He pulled away, but I wiped a finger over his forehead. “I’m twenty-six,” I said. “Young, bored. Do you know what that’s like?”

  “I… I… Ms. Green…”

  “Alice.”

  “I can’t…”

  “How old are you, Mr. Peterson?” I swayed, cupping my breasts. Not large breasts, but firm. “Fifty?” He nodded. Good guess. “How long since you had a young woman ready to please you?”

  “I’m fifty-two.” He gulped. “Get down, right now.”

  I laughed. “So commanding!” I crawled toward him over the desk. Slowly I spread my legs, giving him a good view up my skirt as I swung myself into a seating position, feet straddling either side of his lap. He didn’t avert his eyes. “Tell me again.”

  “Get down,” he said, but his voice cracked on the words.

  “Yes,” I said. “I think I will.”

  I lowered myself onto his lap. I could feel his cock pressing between my legs. I wanted him, and he wanted me.

  His mouth was open wide, his firm chest rising and falling with his breath. He glanced across at the door. “Someone might…”

  I grinned, took hold of the hem of my top, and lifted it over my head. He stared at my chest. I took hold of his hands and lifted them, used my fingers to pinch my nipples through my bra, pressed his fingers against them.

  “What if someone…”

  I reached behind my head, let down my hair, then unclasped my bra and let it fall away from my breasts. “Hold them,” I said, removing the bra completely and dropping it on the floor beside us. “I want your big, strong hands all over me.”

  His jaw was quivering, but he put his hands on my breasts. I rocked forward, pressing myself into him and grinding against his erection.