Authors: Michelle Woodward
The untucked saree said it all. It had been no guise at all. He had intended on seeing her just in this manner. Of all the scenarios in which her exoticism could be exploited by the thoughts of men, India had never envisioned this particular scenario. Her gentleman fiancé, obsessed with the subservience of the native women of India? She tried to tuck her hair behind her ears, only to find that her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She gave herself a hard look in the mirror, and for the first time since her mother left, India Augustina Davenport began to cry.
* * *
The scandal of the torn-apart engagement was perhaps the greatest fodder for the gossip mill the London upper crust had had since India Augustina's mother had decided to thwart all social niceties and escape to find Lord knows what in Assam.
Rumor had it that Lord Loxloston had found out of a distant relative of Lady Davenport's who had had a rather sordid history and decided to break off the engagement to save any future offspring the possibility of scandal in the future. His decision was regarded by far as a sane and practical one, while little was heard from the corner of Lady Davenport. Most assumed she was licking her wounds and preparing to sink her claws into the next most eligible bachelor.
India Augustina, was, in fact, calmly sitting in the privacy of her bedchamber and congratulating herself on narrowly escaping the confines of a terrible marriage with a very ill bachelor when she heard a knock on her door. Goodness, would the world never leave her to her solitude?
The opened door revealed a very disgruntled Robert Cooper, wearing the guise of a duke.
“Robert?” she gasped, her heartbeat doing that familiar merry dance again. He looked as if he had not slept in ages.
“India. I heard. I am here not to stake my claim, but to ask nothing more than how you are,” he told her gruffly, the lines underneath his eyes all the more pronounced. She laughed aloud at his formality, as if he was not the dearest person in the entire world to her.
“How am I?” she mused. “I am most sincerely glad that I did not marry that prig Loxloston.”
Robert winced at the sound of the other man's name. “Why did you call it off, then?”
“How did you know I was the one to call it off?”
“Because any man who did not want to marry you would be a complete and utter arse.”
“You did not wish to marry me, Robert,” she said softly.
The look in his eyes grew even sadder. “What a fool I was.”
India let out a sharp little laugh. “Fool or not, I hardly think that Richard was after anything more than an exotic slice of life.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him everything. Just like in the old times, before the pain between them, before their words had torn them asunder. By the time she was finished, Robert Cooper's brow had furrowed so deeply she was afraid his eyebrows were going to meld together. The darkness in his look would have scared anyone who did not recognize that within it was a look of protection.
“I am going to kill him,” he hissed. And then he took off.
India flew after him, her heart beating faster than ever before. If she doubted how Duke Cooper felt about her before, there was nothing in her mind that could have fooled her now as she watched his broad back disappearing down the stairs to destroy the man who had wronged her. Although she had made him no promises. Although she had not given him the slightest go ahead.
“Robert, wait!” she cried after him.
Thank goodness she was fleet of foot. She finally caught up with Robert just as he was storming through the grand foyer.
“What is it, India? Tell me now before I am convicted of manslaughter.”
She looked him full in the face and laughed. She laughed all the way up to the point where they took each other by the arms and kissed warmly and fully and passionately. Laughed as he carried her off to her bedroom, past the ama who averted her eyes and smiled deeply to herself as she pushed a rickety old broom across the surface of the floor.
Laughed as he undressed her, gently, tenderly, his touch the furthest cry from her latest horrific episode. As he kissed her breasts and suckled at her nipples, India sighed a deep sigh and wondered when she had last felt so at home in a country so far away from everything that had ever made her different from the people around her. When he gathered a fistful of her hair and bent her head back, it was not to establish his dominance over her, but to expose the tender skin of her throat to his roving mouth.
India Augustina lost herself in the touch of the man who was destined to be hers no matter what he offered her. She heard cries fill the room, wild and animal-like, and it took her many long moments to understand that the uninhibited sounds were coming from her own throat. She skimmed the body of the man she loved with her hands, felt each and every muscle become hers, his soft skin, his willing mouth. When he slid his member into her waiting warmth, she felt complete as she would with no one else, and together they found a rhythm that suited them both so completely that they crossed over the border of pleasure together, his hoarse cry piercing the air and dancing with hers.
Long after the sweat of their lovemaking had dried on their skin, they lay side by side, reveling in the warmth of each other’s bodies. She felt him intertwine his fingers with hers and closed her eyes tightly; she wanted to hold on to this particular feeling forever. But it was not to be; she felt him twist his body to sit up and the shadow of his torso came over her face.
“India,” he said, his tone seriously.
“What?” she asked, not opening her eyes.
“Will you be my wife?”
She opened the green eyes that he had come to care for so much and looked into his wolf blue ones. There was something there she had not seen before, even in the midst of their passion. He was a small child waiting for an answer he was certain was not going to come. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked him full in the face. “What about your wanderlust?”
He took her face in his hands, and her stomach dropped out beneath her. “It found its home in you,” he said, and the kiss that sealed them together was perfect.
The End
Amber didn't know how she was going to bring up to Frank that she wanted to have a threesome. They had been dating for a few years now, and it wasn't like Frank didn't have a big enough dick, it was just that she wanted to spice things up. Maybe it was more than that, she admitted to herself, but she didn't think what she wanted to do was all that out of the ordinary considering. The weekend before she'd started having these thoughts of a threesome with another guy she'd gone to the mall with a few of her more basic girl friends and watched Vanilla Ice perform. Amber couldn't believe that the guy was still alive, much less still willing to perform a song her wrote a long time ago and most people mocked now a days.
There had been one dancer in particular who had caught her eye. He was the person she'd watched during the whole performance. Whenever Vanilla Ice wasn't looking the dancer's face would sour, as if he found his current circumstance a bit repugnant. He didn't really let it show, but it was just enough so that Amber could pick up on it. All through the show the dancer had to wait for Vanilla Ice to stumble through the steps while trying to remember his lines. Overall the show was pretty terrible, but it wasn't like they'd paid to get in or anything. It was, after all, at a mall. The event had been marketed to young girls in high school as a way to connect with their parents, but the demographic of young parents willing to take their children to see Vanilla Ice at a mall as a way to connect was small, so the turnout was terrible.
Amber had weaved her way through the small, quickly dissipating crowd, to the Latin dancer she'd had her eye on all night. When she got to him he was busy taking off the ridiculous costume he'd had to wear. For a few seconds Amber was able to catch a glimpse of rippling abs and pecs that looked like they'd been chiseled out of granite. He was dark skinned, like he jogged with his shirt off—that and not to mention that being Latin gave him a dark complexion to start. Amber felt like she was being swept away as she looked at his dark, curly hair that seemed to waft for a moment above his head before plunging down his shoulders in twisting, curling locks. His eyes were a deep mahogany color, with little bits of gold flecked about his irises. He seemed lithe on his feet, which made sense, Amber realized, considering he made his money as a dancer. At first Amber didn't know if she wanted to say anything. It wasn't like she wasn't married. But they were newly married and her husband, Frank, had hinted that he might be open to stuff in the bedroom that most people weren't.
Amber let the thoughts of Frank slip from her mind. She didn't think about his big cock, or how good he looked naked, or how good he was in bed, or how rich he was, or how handsome he was, or how he was her soul mate. That would have just ruined the moment and she knew it. What point was there in fretting if Frank had already more or less given her the go ahead to pick out whoever she wanted for a threesome? She figured it was time to be bold and assertive.
“Hey my name is Amber,” she said, sticking her hand out in front of her like they were meeting for the first time in some business setting. It took Amber a second to realize how formal she appeared, and she pouted her tits out a little bit in front of her to try to make up for it. The handsome dancer's eyes locked in on her tits, which looked good in a crop top.
“My name is Damion,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman.
He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, pouting them just so before kissing the top of her hand lightly.
Someone from back stage was yelling at Damion. They wanted him to hurry up and get back there to help move things, or so they yelled at him. He let out a deep sigh that betrayed his sense of resentment. Amber wasn't privy to how they treated the people that weren't famous on set, but from what she was hearing and observing the extras were consider help and treated as such.
“Listen,” Damion said turning to her. “Can I give you my number and maybe you shoot me a text when you get the chance at some point? I mean, if you want to
.”
Amber's heart raced.
“Sure,” was all she could manage.
Damion scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to her, then sprinted backstage.
Amber stuffed the paper in her back pocket and tried to hurry away from the stage as if she'd broken some kind of rule. It wasn't like she'd gotten up on the stage or anything, it had been Damion who'd jumped down to tear off some of the ridiculous eighties gym attire. She didn't look at the paper he'd given her until long after she'd said goodbye to her girlfriends and gotten back to the privacy of her apartment. Her girlfriends had been all a titter about what she'd done, like none of them had ever come on to anyone before. Of course they knew that she was married, but at the same time they could probably reason that she was in a similar relationship as all of them—Amber and Frank had decided that they wanted to explore sexually within their relationship, with each other. The other women often times spoke of similar things and circumstances. It wasn't like if they found out they would even be surprised, or at least that's what Amber reasoned since none of them even tried to get out of her what Frank's reaction would be. But maybe they were just being good mannered, even though that seemed more like a long shot than anything else.
“What are you looking at?” Frank asked as he walked by her in the kitchen.
He was on his way to the gym after going golfing with his guy friends. The people he hung out with were often times the same people that he competed for clients with at the law firm he worked for. Being a junior partner meant that Frank got a lot of the bitch work, but at the same time, because he was so tenacious, he was able to make a name for himself that was starting to get him more and more time with the bosses on the green. They'd had plans to go to the mall together because Frank had had this thing about thinking it would be hilarious to go and see Vanilla Ice play his old hit, like they had gone back in time or something.
“I got one of the male dancers phone number,” Amber said. “And it looks like it's on the back of his grocery list. Hope he doesn't miss that too much later.”
Frank's interest perked.
“Really?” he said walking back to look over Amber's shoulder. “Is he cute? Do you think he'd be down to be in a threesome with us?”
“He's super cute,” Amber said. “But as far as joining us, I have no idea. I'd probably have to talk to him first, don't you think?”
“I guess you'd better than,” Frank said. “I want you to bend over our nice leather couch and take his cock like a slut while I video tape.”
Amber couldn't help but gasp a little bit. She loved when Frank talked dirty to her.
“Do you think you'd really like it, Frank?” she asked him. “Do you think you really would? Because if you think so I'll do it for you.”
“Oh I know you will, baby,” Frank said as he looked her up and down like a piece of meat.
Amber was hot, and she knew it. Her hourglass figure was accented with double tits, red hair, blue eyes, and a creamy complexion. She was the kind of girl that caused car accidents and drew a lot of attention from construction workers. She wasn't the kind that minded it, though. She liked it when men drank her in and found her to be irresistible, it gave her a feeling of power.
“Frank, you are far too good looking to have such a base emotion all over your face,” Amber said with a playful wink.
Frank really was stunningly good looking. He was the kind of guy that graced the pages of sports magazines, that is, if he played sports. He was much more intellectual than that, though. Not that he didn't, from time to time, enjoy things like Golf or watch a football game. It was just that often times, when things were boring or obviously rigged, he'd remind himself that was why he'd lost interest so long ago. Maybe he'd realized, when he'd stopped caring about sports, that there could be more to a sex life than just the two of them having sex.
“Frank,” she decided to ask. “When was the first time you knew that you wanted to mix things up in our sex life?”
“You mean when I decided that I kind of wanted to swing, but without the swinging?” Frank said while he made himself a protein shake. For a second Amber had thought he was going to make himself a drink, but then remembered he was on his way to the gym.
“Well, I guess I thought about how you told me you still thought about sleeping with girls; how you wanted to get your pussy eaten by a woman from time to time. And I thought, why not? You know? I mean, what's so wrong with someone wanting to get their pussy eaten by a girl from time to time, especially if that means I get to play with them as well.”
“You loved that part,” Amber said with a smirk.
“So now you want to spice things up with a guy and I think that's great. I mean, I do think it's a little funny that the dude was some kind of dancer for Vanilla Ice, but you've got to pay the bills somehow. I just hope the guy is all right with what we want to do.”
Amber nodded. She listened to Frank leave, the garage door rumbling as it raised up and locked into place briefly before descending again after he pulled out. The gym he liked to go to wasn't far away at all, but wasn't very big. It was one of those twenty-four hour places that claimed never to close, although Frank reported that there were times it wasn't opened. Frank was an odd duck, sometimes, though, and would drop by late at night on the way home from the bar to see if he could sit in the sauna and sweat a little it of it out before going to bed. He claimed it made him less hungover. And maybe that was right. Frank seemed to have a lot of weird tendencies, like wanting to see his wife get fucked by another man. But she didn't think it was weird at all, especially after watching Frank with a woman and feeling how much it had turned her on. It was one of those things that was hard to explain to people because it was so primal, one of those things that people keep to themselves because they don't want to come off weird or overly aggressive to other people. But Amber knew that deep down that was how she felt—she loved watching Frank fuck some dumb bitch with big tits that they'd met at the bar. It was one of those things that made her smile as she watched his giant cock move in and out of the girls pussy. It was almost as good as feeling Frank's big cock in her own pussy.
But what was she going to do about Damion? It was obvious that Frank was excited about the whole thing and down for it to happen. She was glad for that. It was always a let down, she'd found in past relationships, when she wanted to do something but her partner didn't. So with the go ahead from Frank there wasn't anything to feel badly about, so she went ahead and texted Damion. It started off like a normal text message, but then she got lost in thought for a second while she was writing.
Hey Damion, this is Amber. I'm the woman that you met tonight at the mall. I really enjoyed your performance! I was wondering if maybe we could meet up and talk sometime. I know that might sound weird since we can just text and stuff, but I feel like talking face to face is way better, especially with how pretty yours is! Anyway, before I embarrass myself even more, I'll just let you get back to me.
Amber sat her phone down and shook her head. Could she sound any less smooth? It wasn't like she was just going to have coffee, she was going to spring a pretty loaded question on this guy without having ever even remotely had a relationship before where she could gauge what his reaction would be. So she wanted to meet him somewhere public so that if he freaked out it couldn't be that bad and she'd be able to slip away after telling him not to follow; or he could just storm out and never speak with her again.
Coffee sounds great! Maybe we could get it sooner than later, like today even!
Amber couldn't believe it was actually going to happen, she was actually going to get to meet up with someone she really wanted to fuck with her husband to size them up and see if they would be a good match. It was pretty much the best scenario she could think of without the actual act just happening on its own organically. But how could she organically bring the two men together to have sex with her and each other? There probably wasn't a way. There was just too many things that could go really wrong, very quickly. Like what if she brought Damion home and while they were fucking Frank tried to slip his big cock into Damion's ass and Damion freaked out? Amber was sure that Frank would be able to handle things, her husband was, after all, a wall of muscle. But she didn't want the experience to go wrong, so the best thing she could think of to do was just bring it up to the person they wanted to have the experience with and get the all clear. How else could they be sure they just weren't wasting time and maybe even setting themselves up for some pretty explosive failure.
Amber decided to meet Damion at the Green Bean, not far from where she'd seen him at the mall. Since he was so willing to meet in the area she figured that he probably lived somewhere close by, and that's probably how he'd landed the gig. She made a mental note to ask about that, it would be easy small talk. She wondered how far they would get with regular conversation before things got to the subject that would soon be at hand. Before she could talk herself out of it she pulled her car into the coffee shop, walked in, got something to drink, and had a seat. There wasn't anything that could really go wrong but she needed to reminded herself of that. She was a strong woman and could take care of herself. There was next to no reason for her to be worried at all. She was going to have a blast, she told herself, and probably get laid by two hot guys out of the whole deal.