This story follows on from Artist's Model. I didn't intend to write a sequel, but when I looked at it again, I realised there were loose ends that could be tidied up. I thought about several different scenarios before I finally settled on this one. I write slowly, so I apologise for the delay in getting this out. There are some twists that I hope you enjoy!
If you haven't read Artist's Model already, I don't think this story will make much sense, so do consider taking some time to read that before starting this, or just scroll on.
The story contains scenes of heterosexual sex and lesbian sex. It features age differences of more than 20 years and there is a violent scene and threats of extreme violence. That should sort out all the trigger warnings!
I have edited as best I can, but if you find any errors of punctuation, grammar, syntax, chronology, plot or just typos, please accept my apologies. I know how annoying they can be.
Enjoy!
Chapter 5 Kidnapped - Tracey's story
They were good times.
The divorce was going ahead. On the advice of Tom's lawyer friend, a few months ago I'd taken advantage of the new "no fault" divorce law, and Kelvin could do nothing about it. He was deemed a flight risk and was remanded in custody until the assault cases came up, and the police had added several charges of supplying Class A drugs to the charge sheet.
In another few months I would be divorced, my nightmare would be over and I would be a free woman again. Yay!
I retrieved my things from my previous home: clothes, jewellery, passport, driving licence, birth certificate, marriage certificate, everything that was mine. All the other property was in my ex's name.
The only cloud on the horizon was that I would have to testify against Kelvin in the assault cases, mine and Tom's. I tried to put it to the back of my mind because I had a tendency to panic when I thought about all that.
I loved my job as a receptionist at the hotel and Bill, our boss, had given us a pay raise, so I had gained even more independence. My friendship with Andrea was deepening. I saw her most days, usually when we changed over shifts at the reception desk, but when we didn't meet at the hotel, we were on the phone for at least half an hour every day.
"What do you two find to talk about?" Tom asked one day. "You're like teenage girls on the phone."
"Life, love and everything else in between! Girly stuff," I retorted.
In truth, Andrea (well, I called her Andi now) was the closest friend I'd ever had. She had taken me under her wing at the hotel, we'd shared a bed together and a man together, so you can't get much closer than that. She was like the naughty aunt I'd never had, and then some. I adored her.
And, most importantly, I was living with the love of my life, Tom. I wondered how I had ever existed without him, before I met him at the art class a year ago.
We seemed to have sex most days (apart from when my period was on), but when we didn't we would lie in bed naked together and cuddle and talk. I loved to lay there, my head on his chest, just stroking his balls and breathing the scent of his masculinity. He loved it too! He was a grower, not a shower, so I loved stroking his dick ever so gently, feeling the way it grew with each heartbeat pumping more blood into it until it was fully erect and hard, so hard. Sometimes I would take him in my mouth and sometimes I would stroke him gently to a climax. Sometimes I would do nothing, just keep him there, like a pot simmering on the range.
I felt so relaxed with Tom and we shared everything.
"Tom?"
"Yes... You want to ask me something? But you're not sure how to ask me."
We were lying in bed with the lights on, my head on his chest.
I looked up at him. "You know I love you and I love being with you."
"Go on, you've got that look in your eye, what's up?"
"Well, sometimes I feel like something a bit different, you know, um with Andi maybe?"
I was gently stroking his dick under the duvet and I could feel immediately that the blood was pumping into it as I said that. It hardened slowly in my hand.
"You want to spend a girly night in with her?"
"Yes, if you're OK with that? I won't if you don't want me to..."
"Of course I want you to. You've got a great connection with her, just like Rachel did. Yes, of course. When are you thinking of going there?"
"Tomorrow, if that's OK?" I was still gently stroking his dick, which was fully hard now.
"There's one condition, though..."
"You want us to take photos of what we are doing?"
"Yes, please, so that I can kind of share the evening with you."
"You mean, so that you can have a wank by yourself while we're doing it?"
"Um, yes." I swear he blushed.
I giggled. "Yes, we'll do that. We'll send pics to you when things are getting hot."
If I thought he was hard before, he was definitely rock hard now.
"Do you want to fuck me?" Stupid question, of course he did. He always did. I went on, "Do you want to fuck me doggy style while you pretend you're fucking her? Just do it to me Tom, I want you to..."
I was so aroused now. Just thinking about having sex with Andrea had got me wet. How did she have that effect on both of us? I moved off him and got on all fours, face on the pillow while my arse was up in the air, my moist cunt on display, inviting him in. I felt like a bitch in heat.
He knelt behind me on the bed then mounted me, slowly, slowly pushing his dick just part way into me, filling up my entrance with it. He stopped moving then restarted, sliding gently, slowly, in and out of my vulva. His groans turned me on so much. I felt his finger tracing a line up and down my arse crack. That felt weird, but also wonderful.
"Touch me, touch my arse," I whispered. His finger found my little rosebud and stroked it. I wondered what it looked like as he stroked the entrance, then pushed against it.
"Oh my god, yes, push it in," I whispered. This was so erotic, I thought I would come there and then. He licked his finger then pushed it against my sphincter and it went in a tiny bit. He wiggled it about, gently, inside me, then a little deeper, forcing the muscle to yield to this invasion. The sensation was incredible. All the time he was gently rocking in and out of me, not really thrusting, just pushing his dick one or two inches into my vagina then out again. Just one inch, or two at the most, no more! The movement moved the skin around my clit and in my lips, just pressing on the sensitive parts. It was so tantalising, I wanted it to go on forever. He kept on gently rocking there, teasing me.
I could feel pressure growing inside me and now I started to push back against him, willing him to enter me more deeply.
"Be patient," he murmured, "You young things are always in such a rush. I want to do this to you all night long..."
It was nice to be called young, when I had just celebrated my 33rd birthday. Even nicer to have that wonderful cock inside me and that gentle finger in my arse playing with me. I felt that huge pressure inside me, slowly but relentlessly building up, like one of those waves you see at a surfing beach, where you know the wave has been travelling across the ocean for days. You know it's going to build up into something huge.
Tom pulled back and stopped for a moment.
"Fuck, Tom, that's not fair," I complained, as the pressure inside me subsided slightly. But I stayed still, wondering what he would do next.
He started again, the joint action of his dick just pushing into me a couple of inches, maybe slightly deeper than before, then gently out again, with all the sensations growing in my vulva, combined with his finger squirming in my arsehole. Fuck, it felt good!
I remember watching a wave once at a surfing beach, growing and growing slowly, then suddenly the power behind it pushed it up so high over a reef that it rose right up then suddenly crested and broke, crashing down as I did, with images of breaking waves, images of Tom inside two of my orifices, images of Andi's face smiling at me all flooding through my mind and taking me to unknown shores of ecstasy, shaking, screaming, jerking, totally out of control. In the middle of this maelstrom, Tom thrust hard into me and came inside me too, his cock jerking as he filled me up with his semen, and then another orgasm arrived unexpectedly in my vagina, on top of the first one, smaller, but still powerful.
Another image came to me, of all those millions of sperm, seeking my cervix and searching for a fertile egg to penetrate and fertilise. A fleeting feeling of regret that I had tried so long to have a baby with my ex, but it had never happened.
I collapsed on the bed, Tom on top of me and still inside me, whispering in my ear "I love you so much, Tracey, so much..."
"I love you too," I whispered back. I had so much love to give, I thought. Living with my ex had forced me to corral my love, to squeeze it into a tiny place at the back of my mind, but now, like a genie held in a bottle for a hundred years, it had escaped and could fill the whole world.
I had clearly spent too much time with Tom. I had never used the word maelstrom in my life, nor thought about genies in bottles for fuck's sake, but living with him and reading some of his hundreds of books had introduced me to so many new worlds that changed me! I loved it. I loved my life, I loved myself; I was me, the real me, at last.
We lay there for an age. At last he slipped out of me and he spooned me, my hand holding his hand firmly in place on my breast, before we both fell asleep.
***
I'd done an early shift at the hotel, before changing into my gorgeous sexy 'Thirty minute dress' as I called it, because I could never wear it for more than half an hour before Tom or Andrea or both would take it off me, revealing that I was not wearing any underwear. I then drove the few miles to her house, followed most of the way by a big black Nissan 4x4 with tinted windows that didn't seem to want to overtake me, until I pulled into the side of the road opposite where Andrea lived.
She opened the door.
