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shoulders as Liz was revealed. The bodies of women had that effect on him, giving rise to a tsunami of tenderness. From an early age, he had been affected by the spectacle of women, from the moment he had swapped a couple of model cars at school for a pack of playing cards displaying voluptuous beach naturists at play and repose whose genitals had been carefully airbrushed, which made them appear more like Greek statues than flesh and blood. He had of course felt arousal, but the dominant impression had always been awe and wonder first. And remained to this day.
He would, he knew in his heart and loins, ever be a slave to the nakedness of women.
He was shaken out of his reverie by Lauralynn roughly taking hold of Liz’s hair and pulling her down to the bed. She slipped her hand between the young women’s thighs.
‘She’s rather wet, Kevin, I must say,’ she said, glancing over at her immobilised husband sitting useless on the chair just a few steps away. ‘So is this what you wanted, eh?’
Kevin remained silent.
She looked down at his flaccid cock.
‘Your wife is going to be fucked by another man, and you can’t even get hard! Pitiful …’
Dominik, witnessing her game, felt awkward. Was he now expected to undress and perform, knowing he was being watched rather attentively by the young woman’s husband, let alone no doubt scrutinised by Lauralynn?
He remembered the time with Summer, when he had foolishly invited Victor to the house. The man whom he had mistakenly exhibited Summer to on a dreadful occasion and who had then betrayed his trust and seduced her after Summer and Dominik’s parting, and exploited what Dominik still felt had been her grief. But somehow it had felt different, as he had blanked the other man out, so ferocious had his desire for Summer been on that fateful day.
Lauralynn stood and approached him, affectionately brushing a hand against his cheek. ‘My gift to you, D,’ she said. ‘Do us all proud, will you?’
Dominik began unbuttoning his shirt, knowing all eyes were on him. ‘It was all his idea, wasn’t it?’ he asked Liz. She nodded and he pulled her round so that she could no longer see her husband or follow his reactions.
She seemed lost and Dominik was assailed by a strong wave of desire for her.
He took her in his arms and kissed her again. This time, slowly, lazily, greedily. Making the whole ceremony of lust something essentially private, banishing the presence of others from the cocoon in which they now performed.
He completed undressing. Out of the corner of his eye, as he moved Liz further onto the bed in the best position to receive him, he caught a glance of Lauralynn’s smile. A wordless form of encouragement from the mistress of ceremonies.
He parted Liz’s legs wide, unveiling her, teasingly tested her wetness with his tip, before inserting himself, inch by maddening inch, an eternity at a time, in an attempt at making this vital moment last for ever, until he was fully inside her. Hot. Snug. He could perceive her moan already, the sound rising from the bottom of her lungs with every thrust of his within her, moving upwards to the pit of her throat. Heard someone’s intake of breath behind him, Lauralynn or Kevin, it no longer mattered.
Dominik’s strong hands took hold of the young married woman’s waist and gripped her tightly until their rhythms had come together in parallel unison.
There was a strange, passive behaviour to Liz, which failed to arouse Dominik. It was almost the opposite of submission and gave him no sense of dominance. There was an inert softness about her, a lack of passion and a quietness in her response. Lauralynn approached them, aware of the lack of sparks, and brushed a hand against Liz’s warm cheek.
‘Enjoy it. Let yourself go,’ she whispered in her ear.
The young woman’s body relaxed briefly and then she bucked, either provoked by Lauralynn’s encouragement or by the combined effect of the endearment and Dominik’s continued,