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“Good.”
His tight grip on her slackened. “I’m hungry. We’ll eat up here. Then I will get you to wash the seawater off my skin in the shower. Afterwards, I will stuff your gobby mouth to help remind you that orifice, like your others, is mine for the duration of this holiday.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice fluttered.
If the other two were not close by, she fancied he might have put his fingers down her bikini bottom and confirmed what she knew to be a fact—an engorged sex organ waited eagerly for his attention.
They shared a late lunch while the afternoon sun descended towards the horizon. The ravenous men wolfed down everything they could heap onto their plates. The sedate women pecked and nibbled on their smaller quantities. Gemma had a post-luncheon assignation scheduled. The kind where she would be well used, and she was mentally preparing her mind for the appointment.
John told Andrea and Gemma the news that Jason was prepared to help him with planning his gardening business, possibly even financial help if things looked promising.
“It’s just the kick up the backside he needs. I know he can do it with the right advice and support.” Andrea put her arms around John and gave him a hug. “You’ll be good at it, you know you will.”
Gemma gave Jason her own admiring look and mouthed a thank you when she caught his eye.
Enrique and Maria removed the trays of dirty plates and the few remnants of the lunch leftovers. John yawned and gazed at Andrea expectantly. She blushed in reply.
They made their excuses.
Jason took Gemma’s hand and waved them off. “We’ll meet later on the main deck. No rush. Coffee and cake?”
***
Gemma sponged the salty seawater off Jason’s body as he leant against the wall of his personal shower. His erection was hard, pulsating and purple tipped. She ran her tongue around her lips.
Jason had come back from the powerboat trip ignited with testosterone-driven passions. It would be merely a matter of minutes before he plunged the engorged cock deep in her mouth. Her head would be pinioned in place by his tight grip on her hair. The smarting tears washed away by the warm water of the shower splashing down on to her upturned eyes. Her kneecaps would hurt, as she had to balance them on the raised pattern of the shower’s splash tray.
Jason pounced, grabbing her hair, legs on either side of her, he took his time to achieve his goal. A powerful, forceful ejaculation down her throat. Fin
ished with her face, he dragged her up to stand before him, pinned back against the tiles. Flipping her around, Jason pushed a finger up her bottom.
“This,” Jason hissed, “I will have later.”
Releasing her, he stepped out of the shower and took the proffered towel from Enrique, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
“Thank you, Enrique.”
Gemma remained pressed against the tiles, eyes closed, water cascading over her body, washing away the drool on her chin. Set alight by his dominance, she struggled to diminish the flames inside her. Her pulse steadied. The orgasm had been so close, it had needed but the touch of a hand to complete.
“Send Maria to her.” Jason wrapped a towel around his waist.
As he was about to leave the bathroom, he turned back to her. “My wife has pleased me. She may pleasure herself on the bed. But she has to do it with the rest of us watching. On the bed. A matinee performance. Oh, and no blindfold and only with her fingers, so we can see her pussy.”
Gemma’s heart skipped a beat.
Chapter 17. Exhibitionist
Seeing her tense up and knowing she would be reticent, Jason walked back to where she lingered, still in the shower cubicle. He leant in and switched the water off.
“You performed, for Andrea, a beautiful rendition of your life before me. Give us a display of your well-trained body,” he mocked.
She was very tempted to walk off and refuse the offer of the orgasm. She didn’t want to do the humiliating play. Jason knew exactly how to rile her, how to infuriate her. She had been too forthcoming with Andrea. He hadn’t been there to hear what Gemma had said, but he would have guessed she had been indulgent with her recollections.
She let Maria dry her body. When she entered the stateroom, Jason, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, lounged in an armchair. Damp hair glimmering in the sunlight, bare feet crossed, and arms stretched out on the armrests.
She knelt at his feet. “Please, Sir, I…would rather….” What she’d rather do was irrelevant. She was supposed to be obedient, and to plead otherwise would be pointless.
Jason pursed his lips. “You’re struggling with your fear of being humiliated. All I ask is for you to masturbate for us, and we’re not exactly a bunch of strangers.” He poked her with a toe. “Nothing to say? Disappointment is what I’m feeling at the moment. You said you would try to overcome your inhibitions.”
