AS SOON AS they entered the bedroom, Pavin peeled Deborah’s tank top over her head and then crouched down to ease the tight G-string from between her damp, clinging inner lips. He let his tongue glide briefly up along the parting, and she nearly fell to the floor at the delicious weakness that assailed her as a result.
‘You need a bath to get that sand off,’ he said softly. He then carried her through into the bathroom and filled the huge tub with steaming water before pouring in some scented oil. Within seconds the entire room was flooded with the fragrance of jasmine and through the steam she saw him removing his own clothes and then he was lifting her up and lowering her into the scented depths.
Deborah slid down until everything but her face was concealed, then watched as Pavin joined her, his huge, tightly muscled body making the water rise dangerously near the top of the bath so that Deborah had to sit up in order not to swallow any.
As she’d originally suspected, the bath had been designed in order to accommodate Pavin and a companion, and so at last they were able to sit together in the warm intimacy of a tub and Deborah watched him rest his leonine head back against the opposite end, his eyes half-closed.
‘Didn’t you want to play the game with us in the cove?’ she asked, indolently dipping a sponge into the water and running it down the valley between her breasts.
‘No, I enjoyed watching. You’ve no idea how exciting I found it seeing you pleasured at my feet.’ He stretched out one leg and this time his toe was able to slide freely up between her sex lips without the constraint of leggings between them.
Deborah felt her breathing quicken and she spread her legs slightly. He let his foot move lower and his big toe eased into the entrance of her vagina, rotating softly against the most sensitive part.
She could feel her whole sex mound swelling with need and pressed against his foot, trying to ensure contact between the centre of all her feelings and his toe but he evaded her and instead pushed her legs together so that they were inside his own.
‘Later!’ he laughed. ‘Kneel up and I’ll wash you.’
She knelt with her back towards him, her long hair dark with the dampness of the water. She was expecting the softness of the sponge, so the harsh stimulation of the loofah came as a shock and she jerked away, but he wrapped one arm round her and continued to scrub at her back, between her shoulder blades and then down to the sensitive spot at the base of her spine.
When she was tingling all over he got her to turn towards him, and now he applied the same treatment to her shoulders, arms and abdomen until every visible portion of flesh, apart from her breasts, was glowing brightly.
Next he handed the loofah to her, and she proceeded to clean him in the same way, watching how his muscles bunched with pleasure as the blood pounded through his veins. And then when she’d finished and they both stood up face to face in the water she felt his erection nudging at her lower belly.
‘Soap it for me,’ he said huskily.
Very gently now she took some bath gel and mixed it with a little water until her palm was full of suds, then she slowly covered his erection with the bubbles, sliding her hand up and down the shaft with a lingering movement that had him clenching his teeth in ecstasy.
By the time she’d finished, the head of his shaft was gleaming a dusky purple colour and his testicles were tight and full but he ignored his own need and instead cleaned Deborah just as carefully as she’d cleaned him, his fingers gliding in and out of every nook until she was squirming like an eel as desire raged through her.
Finally he decided that they were both clean enough, and climbing out of the bath he carried her soaking wet through to the bedroom and then laid her on the coverlet but instead of wrapping her in a thick towel he used a hair-dryer on her body, letting the warm air play over her by now almost unbearably aroused flesh.
The droplets of water evaporated, but Deborah’s skin responded by bunching tightly causing her nipples to pucker and her breasts to swell while within the skin her flesh seemed to expand so that it felt as though she was growing too large for it to contain her.
When the warm air played over her pubic hair she cried out for Pavin to take her, to fill her and put an end to the ever-growing ache that was pulsating somewhere behind her pelvis, but he simply laughed and carried on down her legs. When he parted each of her toes in turn and let the warm air caress the thin membrane of skin between them she thought she’d faint with the eroticism of the act, so acute were the resulting sensations within her.
At last, when Deborah was reduced to making small mewing sounds of despair as she waited for a chance to reach her climax, Pavin, whose own self control was being sorely tested, put the hair-dryer down and took her burgeoning clitoris between two fingers. At such direct contact it tried to retract but couldn’t, and now the hot sparks of electricity shot through Deborah’s stomach and down her aching thighs.
For a moment, Pavin toyed with this mass of screaming nerve ends. Deborah gasped, he eased his grip a fraction, let his nail caress the stem of the bud and as she cried out tightened his hold once more so that the clitoris stayed trapped.
By now Deborah could hardly bear it. Every fraction of her body felt close to exploding, there were glorious jolts of pleasure shooting through her, her heart was racing and her juices flowing copiously from her vagina but still he continued to toy with the soaking little nub.
‘Yes! Yes, please!’ she screamed, forcing her hips off the bed and this time he decided to end it. He gripped the taut bud tightly and then skimmed the imprisoned tip with the pad of his thumb.
As Deborah finally climaxed her legs drew sharply together and her whole body went stiff. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a mist seemed to fill her head as sensation after sensation rocked her body like a tidal wave. All the time she continued to climax, Pavin, having released her clitoris, kept his hand between her tightly-clenched thighs, cupping her sex with the palm of his hand and maintaining a soft but steady pressure that would ensure she kept going for as long as possible.
Deborah wondered if she was ever going to stop coming. Her muscles were aching with the spasms they were being forced to endure and yet still the ecstasy continued and she could feel Pavin holding the centre of this bliss within the palm of his hand.
Finally she was still, and immediately Pavin pushed a pillow beneath her hips and entered her, sliding easily into her moist passage. She was so damp he decided it would be better for them both if he changed his angle of penetration. He withdrew, got her to draw her legs up tight to her chest, then lay across the bed on his side and entered her at an angle of ninety degrees, which meant that he was stimulating the side walls of her vagina. No man had ever done this to her, and she very quickly discovered that it meant she experienced entirely different sensations, so that her body was rapidly excited again by this new technique and the arousal of newly discovered erogenous zones.
Pavin sensed that she was enjoying it, that he was going to take her with him to another climax but he couldn’t wait very long and within seconds of Deborah tightening around him in a rigid internal convulsion of vaginal muscles his aching testicles at last released their load and Pavin too shuddered and shouted in triumph as he finally climaxed.
‘I wanted you so much,’ confessed Deborah just before they fell asleep. ‘All I could think of after that game in the cove was what we’d do once we were alone together.’
Pavin wrapped himself closely around her back, moulding his body to hers so that they were like two spoons. ‘Tomorrow, I want you to spend the day on your own,’ he murmured.
Deborah stared into the darkness of the room. ‘On my own? But it’s my last day.’
‘You’re allowed to speak to the others! The thing is, in the evening as it’s your last night we have a rather special dinner and I want you fresh for that.’
‘Why? Is there another new game for the last night of my holiday as well as the first?’ she asked teasingly.
Pavin hesitated, still unsure quite how she would take this last piece of information about her holiday on Pavinsay. ‘No,’ he said slowly, ‘not a game. After dinner, I want you to give yourself to every man here, as a farewell gift you might say.’
He felt her body tighten in his embrace. ‘Just me? What about the other women?’
‘They’ve all done it on their first visit. They’ll be expecting this, and no doubt they’ll thoroughly enjoy watching.’
Despite herself, Deborah felt a frisson of dark excitement run through her. ‘And you?’ she asked softly. ‘Will you enjoy watching?’
He laughed against the tender skin of her neck. ‘It will be the highlight of the week for me. I want to see the way you respond to each of them, how your body reacts to their different caresses and methods of arousal. It will teach me more about you than I could ever learn on my own.’
‘What if I won’t?’
‘I’ll explain you’ve decided to eat alone and that will be the end of the matter. We leave the next morning anyway. They’ll be disappointed, but it’s how you feel that counts. Does the idea excite you, Debbie? Tell me the truth, don’t you want to be free to abandon yourself to them all, just once?’
As he asked, his hand stroked the curve of her spine and she never knew if her shiver was as a result of that or at the prospect of what lay ahead.
‘Yes,’ she responded, her voice so low he could hardly hear her. ‘I think it’s the most exciting thing you’ve suggested yet.’
Pavin’s eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep. The last hurdle was nearly cleared.
The following day, Deborah followed Pavin’s instructions of the previous night to the letter. She went for a walk round the beautiful island on her own, watched some of the others in the pool, swam herself when they’d gone and read books from the library.
The group were friendly, and chatted whenever she wished, but she could sense that they knew what lay ahead of her and were withdrawing slightly, allowing her time to gather her strength and courage for the evening.
She decided to wear the pink and blue dress she’d worn on the first night, because she knew that the feel of it against her naked flesh would help to put her in the mood even before the meal was over. Just as she was putting it on, Pavin, wearing his dinner suit and a white bow tie, drew her over to the bed.
‘Lie down, honey. I want to make tonight as good as possible for you. This will help.’
‘What is it?’ she asked, struggling to sit up but he pushed her down flat on her back again and then slowly drew her dress down, painted her areolae and nipples, and then went lower to anoint her secret inner lips with a cool ointment. ‘What does it do?’ she demanded when he’d finished.
‘It’s the ointment I used on you once before, the one I get out East. By the time the meal’s over you’ll want all the men as badly as they want you.’
Deborah stared at him, her eyes huge in her face. ‘No, Pavin, that’s not fair! I remember how it made me feel. I could barely control myself once that was on. I …’
She stopped. Already the insidious chemicals were doing their work and her breasts and vulva were beginning to glow with a deep-reaching heat that she knew would increase with every minute that passed. Her nipples swelled against the fabric of her dress and she caught her breath at the myriad sensations that swept through her.
‘Pavin, please, take it off! It makes me need …’
‘That’s the idea,’ he said briskly. ‘I’m sure I heard the gong, we’d better go down.’
When Deborah walked into the room every person there turned to gaze at her. The men’s eyes were excited and full of desire, the women’s curious. Pavin pulled out Deborah’s chair and as she sat down he saw her neck muscles tense as the blood coursed through her sensitive vulva and she wriggled slightly. He smiled. She’d soon learn that it was better to keep still.
All through the courses, Deborah felt herself becoming more and more aroused. Her breasts were thrusting against the bodice of her dress so firmly that both Richard and Brian could hardly take their eyes off her, while between her legs her clitoris throbbed and pulsed with desire. She could hardly stand it, and every time she saw Pavin smiling down the table at her she wanted to scream at him for the torment he’d put her through.
But as the meal ended and it was time for her to do what was expected she was suddenly grateful for the terrible hunger he’d kindled in her. When they moved to the blue drawing room and the women sat around to watch, Deborah knew that if she hadn’t been so consumed with desire she could easily have lost her nerve and run from the room. As it was her hungry, demanding body kept her there, waiting for the first of the men to take possession of her.
It was Richard who was to take her first. He walked her into the centre of the room and slowly released her swollen body from the confines of the dress. Beneath it she was totally naked, not even wearing hold-up stockings this time, and he gave a sigh of pleasure.
A high ladder-backed chair was brought forward for him and he sat on this, then turned Deborah so that her back was to him and gripped her between his thighs. He was fully clothed and the feel of the harsh material of his dinner suit against her flesh made her long for a similar touch against either her burning breasts or between her legs, but she could only wait.
Richard bent her forward so that her fingers were brushing against her toes and he could tease the skin beneath the tight rounds of her parted buttocks. With her breasts dangling down, the blood filled them even more, and Deborah was so aroused that she wondered if it was possible to come simply due to the ointment and the heaviness of her breasts.
She could feel Richard touching her behind, where her flesh was cool and she wanted to scream at him to reach round and touch her nipples, bring her some relief from the dreadful burning ache that was consuming them, but he seemed totally focused on the part revealed to him. He lubricated his fingers from between her moist thighs and then spread her own juices round the entrance to her rear opening.
Slowly he slid two fingers inside her tightly puckered hole, and Deborah’s need was so great that she contracted tightly around them. ‘No, press down,’ he said firmly and she was forced to release him and lose the slight stimulation he’d been providing.
Now he was ready to insert the warm, pulsating oval-shaped vibrator that he had ready and he pushed her head still lower so that he felt that she was finally able to take the whole of it into her rectum.
As Richard eased it inside her, Deborah gasped with shock. Because of its shape it was far more difficult for her to take in and all her muscles instinctively tried to expel it while a painful ache started to knot her bowels. ‘Breathe slowly, let it settle,’ Richard told her, and at last she found that it was possible to keep it inside her.
Now she was allowed to straighten, and as soon as she did the oval object began to vibrate more fiercely inside her, and her belly shook with the indirect stimulation of her nerve endings. Because she was so swollen and hot between her thighs these vibrations were sufficient to trigger a climax and to the astonishment of everyone watching, before Richard could even slide a hand beneath her to massage her vulva, she had come in shuddering gasps while beads of sweat covered her top lip.
‘A magic touch, Richard!’ laughed Pavin. ‘Leave the vibrator in her for now, and let Martin have his turn.’
Deborah remained standing in front of them all, her buttocks shaking from the movements deep within them, her breasts upright and swollen and her sex lips puffy with desire as she waited to see what Martin would do with her.
She wasn’t afraid, nor ashamed. All that drove her on was the need for sexual satisfaction, and she even took pride in the look of surprise that she could see in the eyes of the watching women, especially Flora.
Although there were no visible signs of the ointment Pavin had used on Deborah, Flora suspected that in some way he had encouraged her sexual hunger in order to ease her through the initial embarrassment of the evening, and she was furious. He had never done that for anyone else, and if she was right it had to mean that he felt more for this blonde young woman than anyone else he’d brought to Pavinsay.
Martin laid Deborah down on her back across the seat of the chair so that her hair brushed against the carpet while her eyes gazed steadfastly at the opposite wall. She was aware of nothing but her body.
Like Richard, Martin was fully clothed and from his trouser pocket he drew a shining piece of mahogany wood, from which extended three thin thongs of leather, each one knotted near the end. He suspended this above Deborah’s face so that she could see it for herself.
‘I’m going to whip you with this, Deborah,’ he said gently. ‘I shall draw it across that gorgeously tight, swollen body of yours and then flick it across your breasts and between your thighs and every time I do I want you to thank me. Is that clear?’
Deborah stared up at him, hardly able to believe that it was Martin and not Brian who was doing this. Not that it mattered. If he’d only known it, she was grateful to him. Her breasts were screaming for that kind of touch, she’d have begged him to do it if he’d asked, never mind thanking him afterwards. Once again she realised how much she owed to Pavin for helping her get through this.
Martin drew the soft leather thongs along the side of the tightly-stretched tendons of her neck, trailed them between her visibly needy breasts, started to move towards her stomach and then lifted his hand and struck her a stinging blow across the top of her right nipple.
The burning glow of desire caused by the ointment was doubled by the contact. Tongues of flame seemed to lick through her swollen tender tissue and her outer lips opened still wider as she strained on the edge of a climax.
‘Thank me,’ Martin reminded her softly.
‘Thank you! Thank you!’ Deborah gasped, and Elizabeth trembled at the words. How she longed to be in the other woman’s place. She could imagine so well the bliss of being on the receiving end of such exquisite torment.
Martin was impressed. Deborah had sounded genuinely grateful and so he let the whip caress the tightly-stretched skin of her waist where she was bent backwards on the chair and then flicked it sharply against the inner thigh of her left leg. The leg jerked outwards, her sex mound trembled and he saw the clitoris emerge from its protective covering, swollen, red and moist.
The flames from Deborah’s thigh spread into her vulva and for a moment she thought that she would come, but they died too soon and she nearly cried with frustration.
‘Thank you! Thank you!’ she shouted, hoping this would encourage him to move the glorious sharpness of the leather thongs closer to her clamouring nub.
It did. His hand shaking with his own excitement, Martin dangled the whip against her other thigh for a few seconds and then at last let it rise and fall against her open sex, so ravenous for enough stimulation to finish the work the ointment had begun. Deborah screamed aloud with gratitude. Her feet drummed on the ground, her hair brushed to and fro against the soft blue carpet and they all watched the ripples travel across her body as she climaxed again and between her thighs a slick of moisture appeared.
‘Thank you!’ she gasped, scarcely able to get the word out, and at this Martin raised the whip and struck her again. She was once more racked by intense contractions while at the same time he moved round to where her head was hanging back and releasing his thrusting, swollen penis he slid in between her lips and used the softness of her mouth as though it was her vagina.
Still swamped by the dying embers of her climax, Deborah sucked at him greedily, trying to show him how much he’d pleased her, and when her tongue whirled beneath the sensitive skin beneath his glans Martin’s hips moved faster and faster and then he came with startling force and Deborah swallowed and sucked until she had finally milked him dry.
When he returned to his seat, Martin didn’t look at Pavin. He had a nasty feeling that he might see something other than appreciation in his employer’s eyes. Deborah had seemed to enjoy herself too much, but it was hardly his fault, he reasoned. Often he got quite the opposite reaction.
Pavin didn’t mind in the least. He was watching Deborah with an almost detached interest, taking in the way she was abandoning herself so entirely to the evening and feeling his desire for her grow all the time, not just for momentary possession but for keeping her beside him constantly.
Deborah stayed lying on her back across the chair until Brian and Paul lifted her up. They had worked together before on evenings like this and knew exactly what they were going to do.
The chair was taken away, the pulsating vibrator removed from her rectum and then she was made to undress each of the men in turn, until at last she was able to stand naked between them, her back pressed against Paul and her still swollen and throbbing breasts up against Brian’s chest.
The men pressed close to her. Paul’s erection could be felt pressing against her buttocks whilst Brian’s was nudging against her hip, but they had no intention of penetrating her yet.
After a few minutes standing between them she was left while they collected a piece of hessian, which they then proceeded to rub all over her tender body so that the raw, despairing nerve endings were stimulated yet further and the heat that had been located mainly in her nipples and genitals was now all over her.
Once that had been accomplished they laid her flat on her back on the carpet and covered her eyes with a black mask. Then, moving silently, they fetched a piece of tarpaulin with tiny holes cut in it at random intervals and this they held tightly outstretched about three feet above her unsuspecting body, before Pavin nodded for Tansy to fetch the watering can.
The first thing that Deborah heard was what sounded like rain falling very near, and her burning flesh made her long for some of it to fall on her and dampen down the fire the men had ignited within her.
But she knew it was only a fantasy, and when the very first drop of water found its way through one of the holes and fell without warning onto her stomach she gave a startled cry. Before she had time to realise exactly what was happening, drops were falling all over her but never in the same place twice because the men moved the tarpaulin very slightly all the time.
Water hit her on one burning nipple, but not the other. It slid into her belly button but not lower. It struck her two or three times in her pubic hair and then lower, on her knees and feet, but not between her thighs where she was so unbearably hot that she would have sold her soul to feel the cool bliss of the liquid touch her.
She groaned, she begged them to let it touch her where she wanted and her body flinched and strained alternately as it waited and then felt a droplet before the waiting began again and all the time the tension in her was rising and rising and she began to sob with desperation.
Just when she thought she would go mad with need, a heavy drop of water fell directly onto her exposed clitoris. The shock of it, combined with the relief from the terrible burning heat, triggered her orgasm and the men let the water continue to fall there so that her climax went on and on until she heard herself begging for them to stop because she was aching from the wrenching frenzied spasms.
Finally the tarpaulin was removed and leaving her covered by the black mask they pulled her onto all fours, crouching like a dog and, as Brian slid into her soaking front passage from the rear, doggie-fashion, Paul got onto his knees so that he could push his bursting organ between her breasts and then he was massaging her swollen orbs frantically with his hands, rubbing them up and down his shaft.
Brian’s movements finally gave her the lasting relief she’d craved ever since the ointment was put between her thighs and Paul’s hands gave her breasts the same necessary stimulation so that between them they at last satisfied her body’s needs and with a strange keening sound she felt her body explode in its final orgasmic spasm only to be followed a few seconds later by the men climaxing, one deep within her and the other between her wonderful, sensitive and deliciously feminine breasts.
The three of them collapsed in a heap on the carpet and the watching women looked at each other. As Pavin rose to collect Deborah’s limp body from the tangled heap the women all knew what Flora had suspected for a long time. Now only Deborah, at present too exhausted to care, was in ignorance.
Sara was waiting in their bedroom and quickly ran a bath for Deborah, then gently washed the exhausted young woman before helping her dress in a light summer skirt, blouse and linen jacket because it was now one o’clock and the night air was cool.
‘Where are we going?’ a stunned Deborah asked Pavin when he reappeared in their room, dressed in slacks and a sports jacket. ‘I thought we were leaving in the morning.’
‘No, we’re going now.’ His face was shuttered, giving nothing away.
‘What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?’ she cried, trying to remember exactly what had happened in the blue drawing room but only able to conjure up the incredible sensations she’d discovered rather than the acts that had caused them.
‘Wrong? I told you, nothing’s wrong as long as no one’s hurt. You were wonderful, exactly as I expected. Is her case packed?’ he added in an aside to Sara. The maid nodded. ‘Excellent. Get one of the footmen to bring it out to the helicopter. Richard will see to the usual end-of-holiday arrangements next weekend.’
‘Very good, sir.’ If the maid was surprised by her employer’s hasty departure she was too well trained to show it.
Deborah and Pavin travelled in almost total silence by helicopter to the Orkney mainland, and then they transferred to his private plane. It was only once that was airborne that the American seemed to relax. At last he turned and smiled at the bemused fair-haired young woman at his side.
‘All right, honey?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No, how can I be? I don’t know why we rushed off, or even where I’m going. Are you travelling back to London with me or are you off to the States?’
He seemed surprised. ‘I’m coming with you of course.’
‘But what about your business crisis?’
Pavin exhaled slowly and then took one of her cool hands in his. ‘Debbie, what did you discover during your week’s holiday?’
‘That I was a far more sexual person than I’d realised and that there’s nothing to be ashamed of in being sensual.’
‘Great! Do you want to know what I learnt?’
She gave a small smile. ‘That English women aren’t so very different from American ones?’
His smile faded. ‘No, something more important than that. I learnt that my instincts were right that first night we met. You and I are meant for each other. The holiday confirmed it for me. You will be the perfect third Mrs John Pavin.’
Deborah stared blankly at him. ‘I’ll be what?’
He lost his usual air of self-assurance. ‘I realise you might not want to be my wife, honey. I mean, my track record’s not good and perhaps you enjoyed the holiday in general but not my company in particular. I don’t know any of that. I can only tell you what I know, and that’s that I want to marry you, Debbie. I want us to be together all the time, I don’t want to let you go.’
‘But why the rush? Why the dash from the island?’
His face tightened. ‘I couldn’t stand sharing you any longer. Once you’re mine, if you agree to be mine that is,’ he added hurriedly, ‘then I’ll happily take you back next year, but it all got too much for me and I had to get you away. There’s no business crisis, just a special licence for the day after tomorrow if you agree to marry me.’
At first Deborah couldn’t believe she was hearing him right; that he’d actually had to leave his island, give up his own ideas on sexual freedom because of jealousy, but the proof was there on his face and she knew he was telling her the truth, however painful it was for him.
She flung her arms round his neck and clung on to him as tightly as she could. ‘I thought you wanted to get rid of me, that I’d never see you again. I never guessed that you felt the same for me as I did for you. You always seemed so detached, so in control.’
‘I’m a good poker player, I can disguise my feelings!’
‘Of course I’ll marry you,’ she sighed, wriggling closer. His arms tightened and one hand began to edge its way beneath the hem of her skirt. ‘How else would I get back to Pavinsay next summer?’ she added teasingly.
His answer was to let his clever fingers ease their way past the edge of her French knickers and then he was gently manipulating her flesh, stroking her softly along those moist inner channels that he so adored and as Deborah felt her muscles start to bunch with the beginning of a climax she made a small vow to herself.
She might be the third Mrs John Pavin, but she was going to make quite sure that there was never a fourth one, not while she was alive to keep him content.
After the ripples of her climax had died away he pulled her head down against his shoulder and began to talk to her about a penthouse suite he planned to buy in London.
‘What about Flora?’ she asked suddenly. ‘Won’t she be terribly upset?’
‘She’ll marry Richard: they’re tailor-made for each other and that way we’ll all meet up again next summer on Pavinsay. It should be interesting, don’t you think?’ he added thoughtfully.
Deborah imagined the scene and knew beyond any doubt that it would be more than interesting. It would be another unbelievably erotic summer holiday.