Jack Grierson Chronicles Ch 01 Leyla

These Chronicles continue the adventures of Jack Grierson, following from the 10 Chapters of Her Fiancé's Father.

*****

Showered and changed, Jack and Isabelle were sitting on the back patio of the Grierson mansion. Isabelle had her four-month-old daughter at her breast, sucking greedily on her nipple. It was a brisk morning; Isabelle wore a wool shawl around her shoulders and the baby was swaddled in thick blankets. Jack watched them indulgently.

"Between you and your daughter, you suck me dry," said Isabelle, giggling. "My breasts are rarely heavy - I don't have to worry about sagging."

"You have the tits of a goddess, my love," said Jack. "Just the right size and shape, firm without a hint of sag. When we ran our 5 miler around the estate perimeter this morning, I almost tripped over myself a dozen times staring at your jog bra. You have just enough jounce when you walk or run that every man within eyeshot can't help ogling you. And when men stare at you, it makes me want to do this - "

He reached into her shawl and gave her free breast a quick squeeze, running his fingernail over her engorged nipple. She gasped and then giggled again.

"That's what I like about you, Jack. You glory in other men staring at me. When we are together, I feel like a prize. Martin hates it - he gets all embarrassed and angry when other men stare at me. Poor dear." She shifted in her seat, adjusting her baby to a more comfortable position. "I tried and tried to get him up this morning to run with us, but he just groaned and rolled over."

Jack did not want to say anything negative about his son, so he did not respond. But thinking of their early morning run, he began to grow tumescent. They sprinted the last hundred yards and without making it obvious, Jack had allowed Isabelle to beat him by a yard. Even though she knew he had let her win, it still made her happy. It was a beautiful morning and they collapsed on the dewy grass. Jack's morning hard on appeared with full force and he had carried her into the summerhouse. They were both covered with sweat and dew. Jack stripped off her running tights and tongued her cunt and then sucked so hard on her clit that she squealed as she came. She was at the right time of the month and her cervical mucus was clear - he was sure she was ovulating.

Tonguing a trail from her crotch up over her belly, breasts, throat and finally her lips, he rolled up her jog bra and mounted her. Then he began to fuck her hard. Thrusting his cock deep into her, the thought that he was breeding her again excited him so much that he could not restrain himself. Just as her powerful orgasmic contractions wrung his shaft, he exploded and pumped his load into her. Compared to their normal extended sex sessions, it was a quick romp, but it still made a mess of the pristine sheets on the summerhouse king bed.

Staring at her feeding their daughter now, he wanted her again.

"She's so like you, Jack," said Isabelle, eyeing the growing bulge in Jack's pants. "Greedy to the point of being insatiable."

"Enjoy her while she's so easy to satisfy," said Jack. "All she wants now is your tit. She'll be asking for horses and sports cars soon enough."

"Keep your filthy mouth away from my family," snapped Martin stepping out onto the patio through the French windows from the lower hall. He put his arms around Isabelle's shoulders and his tone abruptly changed and took on a honeyed note. "How are you, darling? Shall I ask the nurse to come and take the little terror away?"

Martin's initial excitement with being a father and his early enchantment with "his" daughter had faded with the passing months. He had not wanted to have children and as the baby became less of a novelty and more of a routine, taking more of Isabelle's time, he began to resent her. The family would have been torn apart if he knew that it was Jack who had bred his wife. A classic mother's boy with a strong Oedipal complex, he was obsessed with his mother. The fact that Carmen shared Jack's bed made him hate his father and everything about him.

"Come now, Martin, do sit with us," said Isabelle. "There's some tea in the pot and it's still hot under the cozy."

Martin sat by Isabelle. He poured himself some tea and took a few sips. Then he leaned over and tried to kiss her.

"Not now, Martin. Can't you see that I'm still feeding Alix?"

"All she does is eat. Day and night, she's always there. We employ a nurse and a nanny, for Pete's sake. Can't you give her to them for a couple of hours?"

"Oh Martin, she's in the nursery for hours each day when I'm working. Look how sweet she is! Everyone says she's the spitting image of you."

Jack rose and came over. He put his finger out and tickled his daughter's chin, getting a light touch on Isabelle's breast and nipple in the process. Without taking her mouth off her mother's nipple, Alix reached out and caught Jack's finger in her tiny hand and squeezed. Unlike Martin, he spent as much time as he could with Alix and he was the only one other than Isabelle, her nurse and her nanny that she allowed to hold her without shrieking.

"How are you, little Alix Angelique?" whispered Jack, wagging the finger that she held. She held on tenaciously, multi-tasking as she kept her mouth working on her mother's nipple.

Martin felt left out and looked away into the vast backwoods of the Grierson estate, sulkily.

"Why don't you leave?" he asked Jack with an edge in his voice. "Can't you see that you are intruding on us?"

"Martin!" Isabelle said sharply. "What's come over you? Apologize to your father."

"I'm just doing it for you," said Martin defensively. "You know you can't stand him. He always causes trouble."

"Whether or not I like someone should have no bearing on your behavior. Now let's sit down and converse like civilized folk."

Martin did not respond, and would not apologize to Jack. He gulped down his tea and rose saying, "I'm going to take a walk in the woods. Coming?"

"I need to finish feeding Alix," said Isabelle. "And then put the nanny will take her to put her down for a nap. Can you wait for fifteen minutes?"

"No, I need to get some exercise before work. I have to prep for my big interview this evening. I'm meeting with the Saudi commercial attaché at the Embassy reception."

He tried to kiss Isabelle again, but she offered him her cheek. He pecked her with bad grace and left with his hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly.

"I wish he would take to Alix," said Jack. "He's got to learn to become a good father."

"Little Alix Angelique already has a good father," said Isabelle mischievously. "A father who loves her and who named her."

"Quiet!" said Jack, looking around. "You never know when one of the staff may be around."

"To think that Martin wanted to name her Suzette!" went on Isabelle. "Can you imagine! A name for a maid! Or a cat! You named her well - Alix Angelique, a fit name for a baroness."

"I thought the de la Roques are counts. Aren't they?"

"Yes, but the de la Roque title passes down the male line. My mother is a countess because she is the wife of Count Charles de la Roque. My sister Cecile and I carry the de la Roque name, but neither one of us will inherit that title. Since my parents do not have a son, it will pass to one of my father's cousins."

"But you said Alix is a baroness...?"

"Ah, it is complicated. In addition to being the Countess de la Roque, my mother is also the Baroness de Croissy. That is an odd title. Back in the 1200s, the first baron bequeathed the barony to his eldest daughter and decreed that it be passed down the female line. My mother was an eldest daughter and inherited the Croissy title from her mother."

"And you are her eldest daughter..."

"Yes, if I outlive my mother, then I will become," here she sat back and raised her chin dramatically. "Isabelle Marguerite, Baroness de Croissy. And after me, it will pass to little Alix Angelique."

"Well, you married the right man," replied Jack. "Through Carmen, Martin has earls and even dukes in his lineage. He's right when he calls me a knave from the gutter. That's where I came from."

"I hate him when he says things like that," said Isabelle, fiercely. "It makes me want to go down and suck your big cock right in front of him. It makes me so angry when people put you down!"

Alix had finished her feed and almost immediately fell asleep. Isabelle gently extricated her nipple from her mouth and activated the call function on her phone. A few moments later, the nanny emerged from the mansion and took the sleeping baby from Isabelle to put her down in the nursery for her morning nap.

As soon as the nanny disappeared into the mansion Isabelle moved over, sat on Jack's lap and put her free arm around him. She pulled Jack's head down towards her breasts. Alix had sucked one breast down its normal athletic size, but the other was still a bit puffed up, with breast milk dampening the nipple.

"Take my nipple, Jack," she hissed when he resisted. "Or I swear I will tear your pants off and suck your cock right here."

"But..." he began.

"Now!" she commanded. "I need you!"

Resigned, Jack obeyed. She covered his head with her shawl and he began to suck on her. As the sweet, rich breast milk flowed into his mouth, he had to move her buttocks to accommodate his growing cock. His powerful sucking was an intensely sensual bond between them - she gave out small gasps, making his cock even harder. Five minutes later, he was leaning in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Isabelle was back in own her chair, sitting primly and adjusting her shawl around her.

"Isabelle, you've got to control yourself," he said. "We're walking a delicate line here."

On cue, Martin returned from the woods, appearing around the side of the summerhouse. Isabelle waved to him and he came up to them briskly. This time she allowed him to kiss her, opening her mouth to receive his tentative tongue.

"After my interview, I have been invited to a very select private dinner at the home of the Saudi ambassador, darling," he said, as he straightened. "Do join me there. I'll ask mother to join us as well. The ambassador, Prince Mushtaq al Rahim al Khalifa sent a personal message asking me to bring the two of you along." It did not escape Isabelle that Martin pointedly did not ask Jack.

"Jack, isn't Prince Mushtaq your friend?" asked Isabelle, ignoring the frown that immediately creased Martin's face.

"I've done some business with him," he replied. "But it was years ago. We spent some time together on the golf course." And with some very expensive bra models, Jack thought.

__________________

Fifteen years earlier, Jack was in his late twenties, a business development manager reporting to his father-in-law, Reginald St James then the CEO of the conglomerate. Jack had achieved some success, but nothing that his hypercritical father-in-law considered of much value. He bought a lingerie-modeling agency, and it was very profitable, but Mr. St James made him incorporate it as a separate business with Jack as CEO, to distance what he called the "distasteful business" from the mainstream operations of the conglomerate.

Jack met Prince Mushtaq through a business acquaintance and together they identified a very lucrative deal that involved setting up and running a chain of luxury hotels in the Middle East. Jack quickly saw that if he could pull this deal off, the associated service contract would bring in almost fifty million dollars into the corporation's coffers. This was sure to get Mr. St James off his back and give him the Vice Presidency he had dangled before him ever since he had married Carmen.

Jack regularly invited models to company social events, especially when clients and potential clients were around. He had convinced Mushtaq and his business team that the deal made good business sense. Now he just had to land the whale - to get Mushtaq to sign off on the financing contract. He knew from the grapevine that the prince was into the high life - beautiful women, fine wines, haute cuisine, expensive cars and other boy toys. So he invited him to dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant and brought along two bra models. The willowy models made a good living off their modeling contracts. But when Jack presented them with expensive diamond jewelry and ordered a couple of thousand-dollar bottles of wine, they were quite happy to spend time with the two men.

They were all quite drunk by midnight and retired to Jack's suite at the Hilton. Both women were extremely exotic (in the years that followed, Jack spent a great deal of time with both of them). One was a tall, part-Asian blonde whose parentage showed in her slant eyes and high cheekbones, while the other had a wholesome all-American cheerleader look, but with dusky skin that suggested some black blood. Mushtaq and Jack started by fucking each of them separately and then they traded places. After polishing off a bottle of champagne, they resumed their carnal activities by double-teaming first one of the girls and then the other. The girls were not so keen on the double-penetrations, but Mushtaq was quite rough in bending them to his will. He seemed to take extra pleasure in their resistance. In the early hours of the morning, he demonstrated his satisfaction signing the contract with one of the bra models on her knees sucking him off.

Indeed he was so happy that he insisted on reciprocating by inviting Jack to spend a night on his large yacht. After a fine dinner, washed down with some vintage wines, they went on deck to laze on chaises and watch the moonrise. Ahmed, Mushtaq's major domo came to them, leading a tall young woman covered from head to toe in a burkah as black as the night. Her face was pale, but her blue eyes were modestly downcast. Mushtaq introduced her as his favorite concubine, Leyla Aliyeva, and offered her to Jack for the night. His only stipulation was that Jack wear a condom - Leyla was only nineteen and he was in the process of breeding her himself.

She's from one of the Muslim areas that used to be part of the old USSR, thought Jack. She must have a lot of Russian blood - that accounts for her height, pale skin and blue eyes. She will give him a gorgeous child. No wonder Mushtaq wants to breed her.

Jack was happy to agree to the terms. If she was Mushtaq's favorite, he was sure that beneath the all-covering burkah she was gorgeous, as well as a good fuck. Mushtaq gave Jack his own opulent stateroom and left them alone. The burkah-clad girl stood passively by the massive bed. Jack let his hands roam over her the silken robes, feeling her young body through them, kneading her ass, her tits and her crotch. His adept ministrations made her catch her breath several times. He went down under the hem of the robes and tented under them, continued exploring her body with his hands. Enveloped in the semi-darkness of the swirling silk was a new experience for him and he found it intensely erotic. He traced the lines of her black Valentino shoes with his fingers, wondering why such a tall woman would wear high heels. Underneath her burkah, she wore very expensive black lingerie - stockings with garters, satin panties and a strapless demi-bra.

Jack kissed her crotch, first through the panties and then drew them down and pulled them off. He set to work on her cunt, licking her vulva and spearing her vagina with his thick tongue. He heard her rapid exhalations that grew to gasps. It was a novel experience as she was shrouded from him by the voluminous swirls of the silken burkah.

Once he got her moaning steadily, he began to work on her clit, kissing it, spearing it with his tongue and gently sucking on it. He stopped and delayed several times, ramping her excitement up, and then lowering her down again. He knew he was driving her wild, for her hips began to gyrate wildly and her hands grasped his head through the silken folds of the burkah and pulled him into her crotch tightly. Simultaneously, she arched her back, as though she were trying to open her innermost gate to his face.

"Bozhe moy, chto ty delayesh' so mnoy?!" she cried out. (My God, what are you doing to me?!) Jack could not understand the words, but he recognized that she was crying out in Russian and guessed what she was saying from her tone. He kept teasing her for almost fifteen minutes, drawing ever more strident cries from her.

"Otday yego mne!... Okh!... Sdelayte mne diplom!... Okh!!... Teper'!... Okh!!... Teper'! (Give it me!... Ooh!... Make me cum!... Ooh!!... Now!... Ooh!!... Now!)

Finally, he kept his lips sealed around her engorged clit and sucked till she exploded. Her orgasm was massive and while her cries were not particularly loud, her contractions and the thrashing of her body were some of the most intense Jack had seen.

He came out of the tent of the burkah and held her in his arms. As he held her, he adroitly removed his polo shirt and trousers. She trembled, whispering to him, "Nikto ne delal etogo so mnoy prezhde. Bozhe moy, vy menya na nebesakh!" (No one has ever done that to me before. My God, you put me in heaven!)

He continued to fondle her and searched the silken folds for the hooks that held the robes on. It took patience to search the unfamiliar garment, but slowly and steadily he unfastened hook after hook until the smooth black silk slid off her body and pooled at her feet. She now only wore her lingerie, shoes and the black silk headscarf tied around her head, covering her hair. Jack picked her up and carried her to the huge bed.

Lying together on the bed, he held her very gently, running a hand over her smooth cheeks, kissing the tip of her thin nose. She snuggled up to him, as though this gentleness was new to her. Her demi-bra only covered the under-swells of her breasts and left her nipples bare - he slid down, kissed and then sucked on them, making them hard and stiff again. She sighed with contentment. He found her cunt again with his fingers, assuring himself that she was still very wet.

Mushtaq had thoughtfully provided a box of maxi condoms on the nightstand. Jack broke the seal on one with the objective of putting it on. But before he could do so, she softly held his wrist and extricated it from his hand.

"Leyla, I promised Mushtaq I would use a condom," said Jack, wondering if she would understand.

"I put it on you," she said, smiling. "My way. You see."

She put the condom on her tongue in reverse. Glancing over his shoulder, Jack saw the condom box bore the label "vanilla-flavored" and now realized why. She went down on him and her eyes grew round with amazement at the sight of his rampant manhood. Undeterred, she opened her lips wide and dexterously worked her tongue to slide the condom over his cockhead. Then forming a tight closure with her lips behind the roll of the condom, she held Jack's hips as she pushed forward, covering his cock with the condom while at the same time she took more and more of him into her mouth. She arched her neck, but even though she tried valiantly, she could not take more then three quarters of his enormous cock into her mouth. Jack did not force her, but sat back and let her try on her own.

Finally, she came up for air and sat back on her haunches with saliva running down the sides of her mouth.

"Mne ochen' zhal'; chto vy slishkom bol'shoy!" she panted, gesturing with her hands to indicate his length. (I'm sorry; you are too big!)

Jack took her in his arms again and kissed her. She put her arms around him and kissed him back, rubbing her beautiful young breasts on his chest. Then he pushed her on to her back and mounted her. He pushed his cockhead into her, glorying in her warm and wet tightness. She whimpered, but said faintly, "Yebat' menya, yebat' menya trudno." Then she repeated in English, "Fuck me. Fuck me hard."