This is the Fourth stop on my Tour of Literotica, where I plan to write something for every category. This story falls into the FETISH category with some BDSM thrown in. It tells the erotic adventures of a Gypsy queen who uses the men's fetishes to seduce and conquer them for her gain.
Currently, I have several pieces in the Erotic Couplings category, all part of my series called:
Portmanteau.
My second category was a visit to INCEST/TABOO with a twisted tale called:
MY MOTHER'S WICKED GAME
My third category was a visit to FIRST TIME with a sexy adventure called
MY VIRGIN SUMMER
You found this story in the FETISH category, so I assume you know what to expect. Please remember I am known for writing third rail style - which means I go places others do not. I write from a verité perspective, which tends to be very descriptive and detailed. Sex is fantastic, but it can be carnal and dirty, and the one thing I won't do for an adult audience is sanitize my work. I make no apologies for going places other writers will not.
TAGS: lactation, anal, nipples, creampie, breastfeeding, big tits, older woman, mature, cunnilingus, domination, anal cream pie, ass play, armpits, light BDSM, toys,
In Service of the Romani Queen
When Earl Buchannan was introduced to Joy Cornell at a museum gala, he had no idea a year later that he would ask her to marry him. It was a perfect match; she was researching a book on the artist Wassily Kandinsky, and Earl happened to own the most extensive private collection of the artist's work.
Earl was in his mid-sixties, charming but far less vivacious than the younger Joy. He was deeply immersed in his duties as the CEO of Trans Americas Capitol and collecting art. His days of chasing twenty-somethings were over, and he felt a woman of Joy's age and education was appropriate for a man of his status.
At fifty years old, Joy easily passed for twenty years younger. Fair-skinned with shoulder-length hair that punctuated a flawless face, she resembled Susan Sarandon but in a cold and more calculating way. She was easy on the eyes, conversant in mixed company, and Earl felt smarter just standing next to her as she held court.
Earl was proud of this educated woman e. A leader in her field, he was happy to show others his interest in intellectual matters. Of course, there was also his secret kink that she was more than willing to satisfy.
After getting engaged several months ago, he put her up in the swank Ritz Carlton Hotel in downtown Boston. He wanted her to live in his Brookline mansion, but she was a traditionalist and would only move in once they married.
The wedding was set for tomorrow afternoon. A small affair in a private room at the hotel with his friends, family, and a few associates. Joy's family all lived abroad, so she had no one attending.
Joy and Earl were sharing a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant.
"Are you excited about tomorrow?" Earl asked.
"Extremely," she said with a seductive smile.
"I bought you something," he whispered.
"We agreed, no gifts," she scolded.
"I was going to get you a car, but after tomorrow, you'll live at the house and have a driver. So, I got you a Picasso!"
"Earl. You are so bad. You already bought me three Kandinsky's. That's more than enough," she said, holding back a huge smile.
"Tax write-offs. When you're my wife and researching Kandinsky, that's a huge tax write-off,"
"So, perhaps you start on a book about Picasso so I can write off this one too. It's small. Only cost me 10 million."
Which one is it? Joy asked.
Earl opened his phone and showed her a Picasso painting of a mother nursing a child.
"Oh, you are so bad," she said, seductively rubbing his hand.
Joy was distracted by a handsome young man sitting in a sharp black suit at the bar drinking a cocktail while watching her and Earl. When they made eye contact, the man raised his glass to her as if they might know each other from the past.
"I had to have it," Earl said. "It's in your suite. Perhaps we should go upstairs and view it and then reenact it?"
Earl was staring at Joy's large breasts as he spoke. She always wore stylish clothing and was sure to display enough cleavage to turn heads without looking cheap.
"Earl, you are impossible. This is the night before my wedding. That's bad luck," she said with a giggle. "Besides, I have such wicked plans for tomorrow night."
"Give me a hint," he begged.
"Let's just say it's titillating," she replied.
Earl offered a lascivious smile.
As the two left the restaurant, Joy and the man again made eye contact with sharp glares.
Earl walked Joy to the elevator corridor. A young couple was there waiting as the doors opened. Earl gave Joy a gentle kiss goodbye. The doors started to close.
"Hold the door," yelled a voice from the hall. It was the man from the bar. He scooted inside as the doors closed. Inside, the couple hit the 12th-floor button.
"Sixteen, please?" Joy asked.
"Same for me," the mysterious stranger remarked.
At twelve, the couple got out. The elevator continued up.
"How did you find me this time?" Joy asked.
"Please. Do you even try to hide?" he replied.
The elevator doors opened, and she exited. He followed, walking a few steps behind her down the hall, admiring her ass in her stylish outfit.
"Quit staring at my ass," she said without looking around to see if he was.
She entered a hotel suite, gesturing for the gentleman to join her inside.
The suite was impressive, with private bathrooms, a living room, and a bedroom. An easel in the room held the Picasso gifted from Earl.
"So, Agent Amaya, how much will it cost me this time?"
"Earl Buchanan. Now, that's an impressive mark," the young FBI agent commented.
Agent Amaya studied the painting.
"A Picasso? Someone's been a good girl."
"You're early, Teddy. You don't usually arrive before the wedding.
