To Disappear by Natasha Rostova Page B

an expert at this, aren’t you, Lydia?’ Preston whispered hoarsely, his hips beginning to thrust into her delicious grip. ‘Was this what you did to the local youths instead of fucking them?’
    When she didn’t answer he cruelly pinched her nipple, and Lydia drew in a sharp breath, flinching at the pain.
    ‘Was it?’ Preston repeated.
    ‘S-sometimes.’ She didn’t look at him, her gaze still on the pumping motion of her hand.
    His lips curled into a sneer. ‘Sometimes? When?’
    ‘When… when they asked me to. When I wanted to.’
    Preston’s head filled with images of a younger Lydia masturbating teenage youths. Her wet lips would have been parted in fascination, as if she wanted to suck them into her lovely mouth, her nipples pressing against her shirt.
    ‘Where did you do it?’ he went on.
    ‘In their cars,’ Lydia admitted, her legs instinctively parting a little more. ‘At the movies, sometimes.’
    ‘Tell me more.’
    ‘I… Preston, I can’t…’
    He pinched her nipple again, harder this time, and delved between her legs with his free hand. Her clitoris pulsed against his fingertips like a heartbeat.
    ‘Don’t you use those words with me,’ he snapped. ‘You can, and you will. Tell me.’
    Her eyes closed, but her hand didn’t stop gripping his thick erection. A sigh wafted from her lips. ‘We would sit… sit in the back row,’ she whispered.
    ‘What did you wear?’
    ‘Cotton T-shirts, a miniskirt, I can’t really remember exactly.’
    Preston smiled and leaned over her, rotating his thumb around her bud of pleasure. ‘To show off your figure, or so they could grope between your legs without hindrance and excite you?’
    Lydia moaned, her body tensing. Her fingers slackened on his cock, giving him cause to take his hand from her slippery sex, grasp her hand again and tightened it around his shaft.
    ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ he murmured. ‘You have several punishments awaiting you, so don’t give yourself another one.’
    She shuddered, but resumed her tight stroking from base to tip.
    ‘Did they?’ he pressed again. ‘Did they fumble around awkwardly to try and get into your knickers?’
    Lydia nodded, and Preston smiled thinly. Oh yes, this was exactly what he wanted, to embarrass her by forcing her to dredge up all the sordid memories of her youth, to expose the libertine who had always lain beneath the surface of her refined self.
    ‘And you liked it,’ he accused.
    ‘Y-yes… I did, yes,’ she blurted.
    ‘You were wet for them, weren’t you? Just like you are now. And did they make you orgasm?’
    ‘Sometimes.’
    ‘Did they touch you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Were your nipples hard?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Did they come all over your clever little hand?’
    ‘Yes…’
    Her pale skin was wet with perspiration, and she pressed her thighs together as if trying to draw sensations from her body.
    Preston gave her thigh a light slap. ‘Open your legs, now,’ he ordered.
    ‘No please, Preston, I can’t… I… oh… oh!’ Her body stiffened and shook with a sudden and intense series of shudders, glistening juices bathing her inner thighs as she failed to suppress her orgasm.
    ‘Oh, Lydia,’ Preston crooned, his tone steely as his expression hardened with displeasure, ‘you will pay for that as well. You know that, don’t you?’
    She turned her head away from him, her eyelids heavy, her eyes filled with a mixture of weary satisfaction and unease. Preston eased her back and leaned over her breasts, his penis sticking rigidly over the soft globes of mouth-watering flesh. He brushed the tight head against her nearest nipple.
    ‘Do it,’ he ordered.
    She gasped softly and moved to ease his wet shaft between her glistening lips, her fingers encircling the base almost delicately. She shifted her head back and forth, her hair shifting with her movements as her tongue circled and danced over his throbbing shaft.
    Preston pulled away from her as he felt unbearable pressure