The Maestro Read online

  At first she had found it disconcerting, but over time his constant flirting had become a joke between them, Linda realising that it was a kind of reflex action, it was the way he was with every attractive woman he knew. It was different now though. Before Alfonso was always aware that Sebastian was on the scene and that she wasn't likely to stray from the marital bed, but now with three months together in Barcelona. She couldn't stop wondering how she would react when, as he inevitably would, he made his first attempt to seduce her.

  She imagined Alfonso naked, his huge member swelling before her eyes. In her mind's eye she was taking him in her mouth, sucking hard on his engorged phallus while he towered above her, propelling her head up and down on him. She imagined holding him by the purple head, licking the whole length of his shaft, taking each one of his balls in her mouth, sucking on the coarse skin.

  Then she was straddling him. His soft hands were reaching up to pinch hard on her erect nipples, as Sebastian had done during that first encounter. She, still sitting on the kitchen stool, tweaked her own breasts until she felt a sharp pain shoot through her chest; she saw herself watching his tool piston in and out of her, so fast and hard.

  She moaned with the pleasure that she was bringing to herself, that she imagined Alfonso was bringing to her with his steel rod, clenching hard now on her hips, pushing her harder onto him.

  The telephone rang, interrupting her. It was Alfonso.

  'Carina!'

  'Alfonso.'

  'What time is your flight?'

  She still could not get the picture of him fucking her out of her mind. Her hand instinctively reached down to feel the moistness between her legs. She was blushing now, partly because of the hot pressure of her sexual excitement, and partly because she was embarrassed to have fantasised about the man she was now speaking to on the telephone.

  'Four-thirty.'

  'Spanish time.'

  'Yes, Spanish time.'

  'I can meet you.' He sounded his natural jovial self.

  'It's okay, you don't have to.'

  'I want to.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Of course, Linda, but I won't be alone,' he said, purposefully wistfully so Linda thought. It did strangely disappoint her though.

  'No?'

  'No, mi amor will be there.'

  'I didn't know that you were seeing anyone, Alfonso.' This was better; this was the safe ground of mutual flirtatious teasing, a mere inconsequential game.

  'But I'm always seeing someone, Linda.' He chortled lewdly on the other end of the line.

  'Look, seriously, if you're busy, I can make my own way to the hotel. I can meet you tomorrow.'

  'Linda, first I want to meet you, secondly Maria wants to meet you. She's very interested in you after what I've told her, and thirdly what would you think of Catalan hospitality? There is a nation's honour at stake.'

  'Well thank you. I can see that you wouldn't want to disgrace your country.' She laughed.

  'Did Sebastian get away okay?'

  'Yes, this morning.'

  'I'm looking forward to seeing you very much, Linda.'

  'And I'm looking forward to seeing you, Alfonso.'

  'Good.'

  Chapter 2

  'Linda, fantastic to see you!'

  She was barely through the perspex parting door and into the arrival's hall when she saw the tall figure of Alfonso coursing up to her from the metal rail. He looked more healthy than normal; his naturally sepia skin was tanned to a darker brown hue. He looked good, too, in the baggy collar-less cotton shirt and the casual beige slacks.

  His embrace was long and firm. She could smell a heady masculine aroma of cologne on his soft skin as he held her tightly.

  'Alfonso!' she exclaimed theatrically when they withdrew.

  'Good flight?'

  'Perfect.' No, he wasn't as good-looking as Sebastian, but for such a rogue he had beautiful, soulful eyes.

  She momentarily scanned the people clustered behind Alfonso for his amor, but she could not detect anybody that she felt he would be attracted to.

  'Maria couldn't make it, but we can meet tonight for dinner, if that is okay?' he said as if reading her mind.

  He took the luggage trolley with a proprietorial eagerness and began wheeling it through the crowded concourse.

  'So this Maria, is it love?'

  He laughed. 'You know I have always found that concept a little, what can I say?'

  'Challenging?'

  'Challenging.' He mulled the word over in his mind. 'Maria is very interesting.'

  As the sliding doors opened she was hit by the warmer, Spanish air.

  'Where did you meet her?'

  'She's a model.'

  'An artist's model?'

  'Yes.'

  'Isn't there some Hippocratic thing about that?'

  'Most of the great artists fell for their models, not that I am a great artist, but I do know great beauty when I see it.'

  'So, she's beautiful?'

  'Of course she's beautiful, but then again mi carina, so are you.'

  They drove into the centre of the city in Alfonso's lipstick-red sports car. She had visited Barcelona many times before, for pleasure or conferences and once with Sebastian when he had been filming something for the BBC about the Spanish Civil War, but however many times she came, there was still that rush of adrenaline when she reached the outskirts of the city.

  'I've reserved a room for you at the Imperial on Las Ramblas, near the Opera House.'

  'Fantastic.'

  'You know it?'

  'Yes, I stayed there once with Sebastian. It's fabulous.'

  Occasionally as Alfonso drove through the broad nineteenth century avenues of the grid like L'Eixample, he would turn to look at her as they aimlessly chatted. She didn't know where his gaze rested through his opaque sunglasses, whether it was her face, her fulsome breasts, her lap or the expanse of her sun-starved shapely legs beneath her cream shorts. She found it arousing never quite knowing where his eyes strayed, where they lingered, or what erotic images they were producing in his lusty mind.

  They parked in an underground car park near the hotel, Alfonso insisting on lugging both her suitcases the short block to the hotel.

  A certain sexual tension was building in her, an affect of the excitement of the day, she supposed later, of imagining Alfonso fucking her, of sitting beside him in the car, of anticipating what it would be like to go to bed with him in her hotel room. She was also tired, a little groggy from the flight, so her usual defences of logic and her sense of plausibility as much of propriety were not as strong as they might usually be. The thought of inviting him to her room seemed lodged in her mind. She felt her heartbeat increase as she watched Alfonso's broad shoulders and thick chest as he deposited her cases near the reception desk in the hotel foyer.

  But then he turned to her, interrupting her just as she was about to speak.

  'Look, I'm very sorry, but I have to go now,' he said, passing her the key to her room. 'Jordi here will get someone to take up your luggage. You've got a wonderful view.'

  'Thanks Alfonso.'

  'Don't mention it. We can meet in La Cafe De L'Opera in two hours say,' Alfonso said scrutinising his watch.

  'Fine.' Why did she feel so disappointed? Why on earth did she feel so horny?

  The room was quite spartan and simple, but it did have a fantastic view of Las Ramblas, the beautiful walkway that led from La Plaza Catalunya to the port of the city. At this time it was always crowded. She could hear the sound of a half decently played violin cutting through the balmy air.

  As she gazed at the evening strollers and the beautiful flower stalls in the fading dusk light her tiredness suddenly overwhelmed her. She slumped onto the hard mattress of the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

  She woke up an hour later with a jolt, aware of being brought back to consciousness by a disturbing dream. She could not recall the events of her dream; all she knew was that the main protagonist was
not Sebastian or even Alfonso, but Luke.

  My God, how long had it been since she had last thought about him? Luke had been a steady boyfriend before Sebastian had appeared on the scene, another aristocrat too. They had had a good relationship or so Linda had thought before that holiday. She knew why she had dreamed about him, why he should have so violently entered her consciousness just as she was about to set off on a new adventure. It was for the same reason that she was attracted to Alfonso. Maybe, she pondered, it was a portent of what might happen, of what she might want to happen.

  They had gone to Greece, to Crete, for a fortnight. It had been her idea: at the time she was writing her thesis on primitive art. She had spent a lot of time in Heraklion studying and sketching those tiny priapic clay figures with their gleeful smiles and their enormous phalluses, while Luke had lounged by the hotel swimming pool, or so she had thought.

  One day she had returned to the hotel early, feeling a little guilty that she had deserted him for so long. They were supposed to be on holiday together after all, and the previous night Luke had made some casual remark about her having found some Adonis in the city.

  Their room was on the second floor of the hotel; a little balustraded passageway led to its door. She was looking forward to surprising him, but it was he who had surprised her and in a way that she could never have imagined.

  She heard them before she saw them. Her pace slackened, as her heart began to race; she knew instantly that something was going on. Two beautiful Greek girls were naked in their room. They couldn't have been more than twenty. They had beautiful swarthy skin. One of the girls, Alexandra she would later discover from Luke before she left him forever, had round fulsome breasts with big, thick upturned nipples, beautiful plump buttocks, and hips that curved to a surprisingly narrow waist. The other girl, Nena, was slighter with a small, pert bottom, startling nut-brown hair, and small perfectly round breasts.

  The sight that met her incredulous eyes was Luke kneeling on the bed rolling his long tongue over the dusky flesh of Alexandra's bottom, while Nena lay under Luke, holding on to his heavy balls and furling her tongue around his sturdy pole.

  Linda was so astounded by the scene that she was rooted to the spot. She could not help but stare into the room through the tiny crevice where the ill-fitting blinds did not totally cover the window.

  Maybe it was the memory of the previous night that gradually began to make her feel excited. She had lain in a similar position under Luke's haunches and sucked on him until he had freed his penis from the greedy grasp of her mouth and masturbated over her. His jism had shot all over her face. Maybe it was just the sight of the beautiful girl fellating Luke - Linda could see the bulge of his helmet stretching out the flesh of her cheek. She should have been furious at his betrayal - she did feel furious - but her anger was blanked first by her stunned amazement and in its wake a growing, perturbing sensation of being aroused by the spectacle.

  Luke roughly pushed Alexandra to one side and pulled out of Nena's mouth. Then, as roughly, he grabbed the slimmer girl by the wrist and pulled her up into a kneeling position, so that both girls knelt side by side. In the semidarkness of the room, Linda could see their tanned bottoms exposed before her.

  As Luke turned to face the window, she had to move quickly so that he would not see her. He walked to the small chair in the corner of the room. There was only a wall's thickness between them. He was tugging at his trousers. Linda could hear the jingle of coins. For a moment she wondered what he was doing until he came back into view and she could resume watching, knowing that she couldn't be seen. He had removed his leather belt from his slacks and having furled the buckle end around his hand was now standing over the girls. His arm arched backwards.

  It seemed to happen in slow motion, the belt coming down, swishing through the dark air before landing on Alexandra's firm, plump bottom. Linda heard the thwack, the smart, crisp noise the leather made on the swarthy flesh. The girl's bottom writhed involuntarily with the pain the lash caused, but even before her flesh was stilled, he struck her again, a pained but excited shriek emitting from between Alexandra's pursed lips.

  Luke seemed to be in some kind of demonic fury. He stepped a couple of feet back, then a couple sideways and lashed Nena even harder. She moaned at the lash, her perter rump jerking against the oppressive crack of leather. Luke lashed her again. Nena reached her hand upward between her splayed thighs to feel the reddened marks Luke had made on her.

  Alexandra looked behind her momentarily. Again, Linda had to move quickly to avoid detection, but not until she had caught a glimpse of the face. She recognised her instantly. She'd seen her the previous night down by the beach, this beautiful girl with the stunning ink-black hair walking hand in hand with the fat, oleaginous proprietor of the hotel. It all clicked in her mind, and she hadn't said anything to Luke, even though she had noticed Luke looking at her: Linda had assumed she was a prostitute.

  The lash came down in alternate strokes now on each of the girl's buttocks, the depth of Nena's moaning contrasting with Alexandra's delirious high-pitched squeal every time Luke brought the belt down on her sumptuous bottom. Linda noticed a gleam of perspiration covering Luke's. As he tossed his hand back beyond his body, his knuckles white and taut with gripping the belt, his muscular torso tensed, Linda could see his cock was steel-hard.

  After lashing each girl at least ten times, he grabbed at Nena, and pulling her roughly by the neck, sank his rod into the velvet moistness of her unprotesting mouth. Alexandra remained where she was, passively waiting on the bed for Luke to continue to whip her with his belt. He flicked his wrist with greater power a moment before the leather made contact with the flesh so that the force of the blow would be even greater.

  So as one girl sucked him avidly and seemingly with pleasure, even though Luke pushed her head hard onto his slicked pole, he overlaid the reddened bottom of her carnal companion with sharp, incisive strokes of the belt.

  Linda could not quite see Luke's face, but his actions bespoke of a kind of manic restlessness, as if nothing he did could quite satiate him: no position he found with the two luscious girls could bring balm to his febrile lust.

  No sooner had the brunette steadied herself into a rhythm, bobbing up and down on Luke's swollen shaft, than he picked her up as she squatted before him and pushed her onto the bed so his testicles flopped over her face. Then angling Alexandra's bottom and splaying her thighs wider, he entered her, vigorously thrusting inside her, at the same time as the now supine Grecian beauty arched her neck so that her tongue could lick the rough skin of Luke's scrotum.

  Having his hands free, the belt having been discarded with alacrity, he slid his hands first around Alexandra's fat pussy lips, before reaching under her voluptuous torso and grasping her heavy, swinging breasts, pinching the erect nipples hard between forefinger and thumb in time to each stroke of his cock.

  Two or three times he withdrew his engorged tool from the tight velvet opening to force the dome of his slicked shaft between the waiting mouth of the girl below him, pushing down so hard that if the girl had not been an expert of fellatio she might have choked. She seemed to take each downward thrust in her stride. As Nena busied herself on his hard, slicked cock, Luke jammed two rigid fingers into the opening of Alexandra's sex, then pushed his thumb against the puckered crater of her anus, until it slid inside the tight hole. The girl squirmed on him, her lower torso pushed down onto the rigid digits, so as to derive maximum pleasure, as Luke fucked her with his hand.

  With Linda, Luke had been a considerate if shy lover, reluctant to experiment beyond the usual accepted practices. That previous night, as he had squatted over her, his jism spurting over her face, she had seen as a kind of breakthrough, Luke overcoming his self-consciousness, showing a greater willingness to explore his sexual needs and fantasies. She could not believe that she was watching the same man. It frightened her.

  It frightened Linda even more when she saw what he did next: he withdrew fro
m the mouth below him and pushed his tool against the anus of the ebony-haired girl, until he had squeezed the whole length inside her. He rode her first in a steady slow rhythm gradually gathering pace. Soon he was fucking the girl as if his life depended on it, ruthlessly, remorselessly, each stroke of his cock punctuated by Alexandra's sharp rhythmic squealing.

  Linda stared at Luke as he pistoned in and out of the seemingly inexhaustible girl. His hips banged against her rubicund and pained buttocks, slapping against them, overlaying whatever pain or pleasure he was bringing by making the skin of her bottom smart again as his cock butted harder inside her.

  To her dismay Linda realised she was wet watching the spectacle. There was a deep longing inside her and the truth came as a terrible revelation. She wished to be that girl. She wished that it had been she that Luke had lashed with his belt, as she wished that it was Luke who was now fucking her inside her most intimate place.

  She wanted to leave but her eyes remained glued to the scene. Luke began moaning, oblivious to anything but the motion of his cock inside the tender orifice of the girl. He was gradually building to crescendo, as Alexandra's keening voice increased in pitch and volume.

  As they were both coming, he pulled out of her and angled his twitching tool towards the brunette's gaping mouth. Linda watched the projection of his sperm, the first jet hitting the bridge of the nose, the second landing on her outstretched tongue.

  A great wail of pleasure came first from Luke, then from the plumper girl as her buttocks jerked in a kind of delayed climax, until Linda saw that her fingers had crept down to her clitoris and she had brought herself to orgasm.

  Linda looked on as Luke's semen spread over Nena's face, as he pumped his sated tool into her mouth once again. He looked just like those satyric figures Linda had so diligently been studying. Linda stared at the wetness of the curvaceous girl, her skin glistening in the half light, a mixture of semen and sweat and the girl's own love juices. She looked until she could bear it no more.