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The Red

Tiffany Reisz


  into the deepest parts of her.

  "You should be like this all the time,” the midnight man said against her lips. "Naked with a cock stuck in you. You wear it well.”

  "Do I?” she asked, hardly knowing what she said as she was so lost in the moment.

  "Your breasts are rose red and your nipples are wine. I can’t wait to find out what shade of red your cunt is.”

  "It’ll be red and white when I’m done with her,” Malcolm said. "A candy cane.”

  "Or the flag of Sweden,” Mona said. "Or is it Denmark?”

  "I’ll leave you blue bruises and it’ll be the flag of America, England, and France,” Malcolm said. "And I will salute them all.”

  "No.” The midnight man shook his head, caressed her lips. "A Wingthorn rose. White flowers, but the thorns are blood red and large as the petals. Beautiful and dangerous as I imagine getting in your cunt is.”

  "You’ll be ensnared too,” Malcolm said. "But you won’t want to ever get out again.”

  Mona laughed, drunk on happiness, drunk on lust.

  "Come and get in here, lad,” Malcolm said. "You’ll see what I mean.”

  Malcolm pulled out of her and lowered her legs to the blanket again. He stretched out on his side next to her. The man with midnight eyes took Malcolm’s place between her legs. It pleased her to spread her thighs and display herself to him. With both hands he fanned her labia open, splaying her wide for his perusal and inspection.

  "Apple red,” he said, nodding his approval. "The color that tempted both Adam and Eve. Do you taste as sweet as you look?” he asked, but didn’t wait for her answer. He dipped his head and licked her inner lips, swirling his tongue in circles all over her. He poked his tongue into the open orifice once before raising up again. "Even sweeter than I thought. Sweet and tart. Consider me a fallen man.”

  He pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. Then he opened his trousers and brought out his prick, already fully erect. Mona’s breathing quickened at the sight of it, dark red and straining in his hand. A beautiful male organ, it was long and thick as his wrist, and her craving for it grew as he stroked it.

  "Open yourself for me,” the man with the midnight eyes ordered. She spread her labia for him as he had, using her hands to expose the hole. He mounted her, placing the cock at her entrance and holding it in place with his hand. With one purposeful thrust, he penetrated her to her core and proceeded to fuck her without further preamble. He grasped her by the thigh and wrapped her leg around his back, then dug into her with vigorous strokes. He was over her and under her at the same time, having tilted her pelvis up so far he could slip his knees under her hips to better impale her. Mona tried to touch him but he grabbed her by the wrists and imprisoned her against the blanket. He gave no quarter, this man with midnight blue eyes, brooked no dissent. There was no question of respite or mercy. She existed solely to take his cock and like it, and the second part was optional.

  Mona released short sharp breaths as the man rammed her with his iron cock. Her inner muscles tightened and twisted, grasping at the shaft, lavishing it with wetness and attention and adoration. She could barely stand the building pressure. Malcolm added to her torment by lightly pulling back on the hood of her clitoris, exposing the swollen knot of tissue beneath. It pulsed against Malcolm’s fingers, pulsed in time to the powerful thrusts that split her down the seams with each thrust. Inhuman sounds emanated from her lips. Her belly tightened. Her thighs tightened. Seeing Malcolm’s fingers on her clitoris, the midnight man’s organ disappearing into her, and her heavy swollen breasts rising and falling with each rough thrust was too much for Mona. She saw too much, felt too much, was taking far too much to survive it. And just when she couldn’t take anymore, they gave her more.

  They gave her more.

  The man with the midnight eyes lifted her in his arms, clasping her to his chest even as his penis remained inside her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. He rolled onto his back, and as soon as she found herself on top of him, Mona began to ride him. She put her hands on his chest and arched her back, displaying her breasts for him, offering them to him for sucking and touching. She screwed her hips in a circle, grinding on the organ inside her. Without warning, the man underneath her bucked his hips and lifted her. He caught her before she collapsed onto his chest, caught her and held her against him again. She fought the arms that held her. She needed to move, to reach her climax. It was killing her not to come. The man was ten times stronger than she, however, and kept her trapped against his chest. He slid his hands up and down her back as she panted like an animal in heat. He took her bottom in his hands and spread her at the cleft. Mona gasped when she felt something cool and wet against her anus, but she knew the fingers that touched her. Malcolm’s fingers penetrated her second hole slowly. She sighed at this loveliest of violations. He oiled her again, oiled her thoroughly. First he used only one finger, but when her anus opened up to him he pushed in a second. Soon she was able to take three of his fingers. He worked those three fingers into her until she took them with ease. He fucked her with them as the man underneath started to move again inside her. In tandem they fucked her, sliding in together and out in unison. When they both left her holes she could have wept from the aching emptiness, but in a flash they were entering her again and she sighed with happiness, unbearable happiness.

  The man underneath her locked his legs together and Malcolm rose up, covering her back to take her from behind. The fingers were gone soon and quickly replaced with Malcolm’s cock. She knew this act was inevitable and while she wanted it, she also feared it. Malcolm read her tension and soothed her with a series of kisses across her naked shoulders.

  "Open up for me,” he whispered and she spread her thighs as wide as she could. Movement became impossible and unnecessary when both men were fully within her. She was pinned into place by their pricks. Mona buried her head into the crook of the midnight man’s strong neck and lay there taking it all in as the two men used her holes in tandem.

  It was an obscenity, this act, being fucked by two men at once in both her holes. She felt the two organs separated only by a wall of sensitive tissue that quivered between them, spasmed and flinched. Staked by these twin spears she could do nothing but remain motionless and receive. She dug her fingers into the fine linen fabric of the midnight man’s shirt and clung to him as if for life. His breathing was ragged, desperate, hungry and music to her ears. Soft moans lived and died in his throat. She’d never heard sounds so erotic. She looked at him and saw his eyes were closed and his lips were parted and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing that mouth that still tasted of everything red and tempting.

  "If you were for sale I would pawn my soul to buy you,” the midnight man said into her ear. "I would buy you and keep you a naked slave chained to my bed. I would show off your cunt to every man who crossed the threshold of my house so they could see my prized possession and envy me. I would fuck beautiful women in front of you and send them home right after, still dripping with my seed, so you would know that I could have any girl I wanted but you were the only one I wanted to keep. I would tie you to the dining room table and drink my wine out of you. I would let my dearest friends bend you over the billiard table and fuck your pussy and ass while I sat in my favorite club chair, sipping Scotch and watching you writhe for my entertainment. Then later when I’m fucking you in our bed, you can tell me in exquisite detail how much you prefer my cock to theirs. And if you’re a very good little girl, I would share you like this, a cock in both holes—and if and when you’re an angel to me, I’ll let you take a cock in all three. You’re a magnificent whore and I’d love to wrap you around my cock every day for the rest of your life.”

  The words were too much for Mona. Her vagina contracted so hard she cried out. Her stomach muscles rippled. Electric currents shot up her spine to the back of her neck. Her thighs quivered and she shook without moving. The climax with two organs deep in her was devast
ating. She’d never recover from it. It went on forever and when it stopped she thought she’d died for a moment.

  "I knew you two would get along,” Malcolm said as he continued to mercilessly plumb the depths of her.

  Mona rested her head on the midnight man’s chest and felt the low rumble of his laughter. The two men continued to use her without her active participation. Her holes were wet and open. What more did they require from her but acquiescence? Malcolm’s hands scored her naked back and she shivered like a cat being scratched just the right way. The midnight man pumped into her, lifting her by his cock with each thrust. They were building toward the crisis, holding back, then pushing forward together. Her whole being was concentrated now in her pelvis, in the two holes they were using and nothing else. She lay limp on the midnight man’s body and waited for them to finish with her. The sooner they finished, the sooner it would all begin again.

  Malcolm’s hand gripped the back of her neck, not hard but possessively. His thrusts slowed and deepened. He was almost there. She could tell it from the sounds he made—the guttural moans had turned to long low breaths. The grip on her neck tightened. Malcolm came into her, his hot spurts filling her bowels, while underneath her the midnight man lifted his hips off the ground and released into her at the same time. She froze, held her breath, felt their releases in both her orifices. Obscene, being used like this, but she accepted it, relished it, loved it. She loved it. Shamelessly, blissfully, and utterly loved it.

  Malcolm pulled out first, and Mona sat up with the midnight man still inside her.

  "Beautiful,” he said as she arched her back and shook out her hair. "Why are you only a dream?”

  "I’m not,” she said.

  He raised his head and whispered into her ear, "I wish I could believe that.” She only laughed. Mona knew just how he felt. He rolled them over onto her back and slid out of her. She closed her eyes and stretched out in the dappled sunlight streaming through the tree canopy overhead. The stream babbled and bubbled in the near distance. Her thighs were slick with semen and she couldn’t stop smiling.

  "Are you happy?” Malcolm asked. She opened her eyes and nodded.

  "And messy,” she said, spreading her legs to show him how wet they’d made her.

  "Oh dear. We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” Malcolm asked. He turned to the man with the midnight eyes. "What do you think?”

  "I think…” the midnight man began. "I think…you’re too slow, old man!”

  At that, the midnight man stripped and ran naked to the water.

  "Lads,” Malcolm said, shaking his head. "They never do grow up.”

  "Never,” Mona said. Malcolm stripped naked as quickly as the midnight man and she had no choice but to chase after them as to the stream. She ran freely, fearlessly, knowing this world was safe for her. Her feet would strike no stones. No snakes were hidden in the grass.

  She reached the stream and stood atop a large flat rock at the water’s edge. The midnight man had caught the bathing woman in his arms. He ripped the wet and clinging muslin fabric off her body. She laughed and squirmed happily in his grasp and put up no fight whatsoever to flee his attentions. Malcolm stood on the rock next to her and dove into the water, his long lean body as agile and muscled as a man half his age. She sat on the rock and let her legs dangle into the water as Malcolm swam back to her. He stood at the stream’s edge, submerged from the waist down, and she let him lift her into the water. The water was warm as bathwater and she eagerly wrapped her legs around Malcolm’s back and her arms around his shoulders. He pushed his cock into her. It went in easily as she was still so open from earlier. She sighed and rested her head on Malcolm’s strong shoulder.

  They didn’t speak and didn’t kiss. They merely rested together in the water, their bodies intimately intertwined. She half dozed, half watched as Malcolm’s friend coupled with the bathing woman in the shallow waters. He had her bent backward over a smooth log of driftwood while he fondled her ample breasts. He pinched and pulled the nipples, sucked the tender pink tips, all the while the woman moaned in her pleasure.

  "Who is he?” Mona asked.

  "A dear friend.”

  "Is he real?”

  "As real as I am.”

  "Are you real?”

  "You ask many questions for a woman who cares so little for the answers.”

  "I’m afraid of losing you,” she said. "That’s all.”

  "You’ll always have me with you, if you wish,” he said.

  "You know I wish it.”

  "Then it will be so.”

  She needed no other consolation. Those were the words she’d wanted for weeks. Under the stream’s surface, Malcolm was fucking her again, using the weightlessness of the water to lift her up by the waist and slide her down onto him. As he took her, she watched the bathing woman and the midnight man. He’d pulled her to the very edge of the stream where the water was only a few inches deep and put her on her hands and knees. Mona watched as the midnight man mounted her from behind, his hands gripping her waist to steady himself. It was mesmerizing, watching him take her. Mona watched the muscles of his thighs and buttocks contract and flex with his thrusts. She watched his thick red cock pushing into her body with the steady rhythm of a piston. A beautiful man, broad-shouldered and lean but with muscle enough to do real damage if he wanted. She could have watched him all day.

  "Mona…” Malcolm whispered her name into her ear. He was coming, she could tell from the tautness of his body and how hard he held her to him. When it was over he tilted her back and let her float on the surface of the stream, her candy apple hair an icon’s halo around her head. Malcolm gently played with her naked breasts as she lay on the water with her legs still wrapped around his waist. There was nothing she wouldn’t allow him to do to her body and she told him that.

  "I’m glad to hear it,” he said as he tugged lightly on her nipples. "I fully intend to use your body.”

  "For what?” she asked, not that it mattered. It was all the same to her. If Malcolm was doing the using, her body was his plaything.

  "I told you. To keep a promise I made.”

  "When will you keep it?” She smiled up at the bare sun overhead. This was heaven. This was bliss. This was everything she’d been too afraid to dream but would have dreamed if she’d dared.

  Malcolm cradled her head in his hand and lifted her out of the water, bringing her face to face with him. He kissed her on the mouth, a deep velvety kiss. Their tongues met and mingled as the water lapped and licked her skin. At the stream’s shore, the midnight man was still copulating with the beautiful black-haired woman who now lay on her back, her ankles in the air as the midnight man pummeled her with brutal thrusts. With one hard push, Malcolm penetrated Mona again, right into the core of her and when she gasped from the sudden intrusion, he smiled and answered her question.

  "I shall start to keep it…now.”

  Mona’s eyes flew open. She lay on the bed in the back room and though she was all alone, her body shook with an orgasm. Her fingers slid inside her wetness, that tight inner ring of muscles spasming around her own hand.

  When it passed, she rolled onto her side into the fetal position. Malcolm had never left her like this before, never this suddenly, never while she was awake. It scared her. But she saw a white envelope on the pillow next to her and sat up in excitement. Perhaps he hadn’t left her alone after all.

  In her haste to open the envelope, she cut her finger on the fine paper and soon the white was dotted with red. She didn’t care. She cared only for the words she devoured, the words written in Malcolm’s loping handwriting.

  Mona, my darling whore,

  * * *

  You don’t know what a gift you’ve given me this past year. Although I have paid for it and paid for it dearly, it was well worth the price. I know now all will be as I wished it to be.

  Someone is coming for me. I owe him a debt and as you know all too well, debts must be paid. But he kept his
end of the bargain and it’s my turn to keep mine. As for our bargain, I admit I didn’t tell you the entire truth at our second meeting when I said you were sitting on a goldmine. You thought I referred to your body and in a way I did. What I should have said was you are sleeping on a goldmine. Open the bed knobs and you will see what I mean.

  As for who I am, you will know it soon enough.

  All my lust,

  Malcolm

  P.S. Do anything you must, but keep me forever.

  The bed knobs? What on earth did he mean by "open the bed knobs”? And what on earth did he mean by keep him forever? Surely that was his responsibility, not hers. The tone of the note unnerved her greatly. Something about it seemed final. Something about it seemed like a goodbye.

  Mona stood and stared at the bed knobs. The one closest to her at the foot of the bed was nothing more than a brass ball. She put her hand on the knob and turned it. At first it didn’t want to give, but then she felt it twist the tiniest bit. With both hands she turned the knob again. The old bed didn’t want to let the knob go, but eventually she managed to take the knob off. She looked inside the post and found that while it was hollow as she would have expected, it was not empty.

  Something was inside it. Something rolled up and wrapped in yellowing linen. Carefully she extracted the linen tube from inside the bedpost. She took the linen wrapping off and discovered a rolled canvas beneath it. Mona shook as she unfurled the canvas, going slowly as she could to avoid doing any damage to the painting that had been hidden in her bed for God only knew how long. At first she saw nothing but black. Then a bit of red on either side. A pocket with a gold chain. Then buttons followed by a white collar. Then a face she knew better than her own, a devilishly handsome face, not smiling at the mouth but a little in the eyes, the eyes that were so black one couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris began.