Retribution

Retribution by Ian Barclay Page B

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Authors: Ian Barclay
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behind a tomb shaped like a miniature Greek temple. He waited.
    The footsteps came hurriedly along. When they drew level, he stepped out, his right hand already descending in a vicious chop.
     It was the pretty girl. She cringed and Dartley managed to ease off on his chop so that the edge of his hand no more than
     pressed firmly against the side of her neck. Dartley couldn’t complain about her being nervous now—she had good reason to
     be.
    “You American men are so romantic,” she said accusingly to him in French.
    “I hadn’t thought that romance was on your mind.”
    “Is it too early in the day for an American man? You don’t do it during daylight hours? You feel you should be working?”
    All the time as she challenged him verbally, her eyes were giving him a different message.
    “You admit that you were following me,” Dartley said suspiciously.
    “Certainly. Did you think I was going to rob you? I had it all planned. We were going to bump into each other accidentally
     and you were going to invite me to lunch. Who knows, the wine at lunch might have been good. Without realizing it of course,
     I might have got a little tipsy and you might have taken shameless advantageof me. One thing I can say for European men—you don’t have to spell everything out for them.”
    She was back to challenging him again.
    Dartley fell for it.
    They took a taxi back to the fashionable part of town; he treated her to an expensive lunch and after it she went with him
     to his hotel on the rue de Rennes.
    Dartley had hardly closed the door behind them when Claudine—she never gave him a last name—started undoing her clothes. She
     threw them around her on the floor in her hurry to let her naked body emerge to Dartley’s hungry gaze.
    He shucked off his own clothes and looked at her luscious curves. Her nipples were rosy brown, surrounded by pinker areolae.
     She held a breast in each hand and playfully offered them to him, like a peddler holding honeydew melons. Then she released
     her breasts and caressed her nipples with her fingertips, gently and lightly, and smiled at him.
    When he approached her, she turned her back on him, and he was struck by the beauty of the way her body tapered into her narrow
     waist above her perfectly proportioned hips and her smooth and rounded cheeks. He placed his palms on her waist and ran his
     hands softly up her sides, then beneath her arms, and reached up to cup a breast in each hand. He nuzzled the nape of her
     neck and breathed in the fragrance of her hair while he squeezed her breasts gently but firmly, and massaged and tickled her
     nipples, now grown erect and hard.
    Dartley allowed her to slip- from his embrace, andhe chased her around the room, catching her near the bed. He picked her up in his arms and placed her on the quilt. Then he
     sprang upon her.
    Claudine screamed and giggled. He kissed her mouth, neck, and breasts. He let his engorged penis press against her as he nibbled
     on her tits, making her so hot she thrust against him repeatedly with her throbbing vagina, seeking for him to ease the desperation
     he had created there and bring her sweet relief.
    He worked his way down her body with his tongue. As he reached her bush, he felt her pull his hips toward her head, felt her
     take his cock in her hand, felt the warm tight moistness of her mouth enclosing his member. He shivered as the tip of her
     tongue traveled across an area of extreme sensitivity.
    Having wallowed for a while in the pleasure she was providing him, Dartley returned to the fray by fighting pleasure with
     pleasure, intending to vanquish her through her own sensual gratification and then surrender his victory to her by burying
     the huge head of his lust deep within her tight warmth, letting everything go by spurting forth his seed.
    His nose parted the soft curls of her pubic hair, his lips playfully pulled on strands, and the tip of his tongue lingered
     on the edges of her palpitating opening.

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