carefully hatched. It was clear to Richard that Elizabeth wanted to dominate the love-play. She obviously derived a great deal of her pleasure from forcing her lovers to submit to her positions: metaphorically snapping her fingers as if they were hounds on a leash…
Very well! He would wreck their chances of an easy, self-indulgent life in London by refusing to cooperate!
While Elizabeth was still busy with Spencer-her lips smacking loudly as they slid lustily up and down the boy's throbbing, strongly erect cock-Richard moved stealthily behind the woman. He slid his arms around her waist, sinking his fingers into the softness of her belly, and heaved violently!
There was a gulping, slurping noise as Elisabeth's mouth came abruptly away from Spencer's prick, followed by a sharp, angry cry of protest.
“You little bastard! What the hell do you think-”
Richard twisted her over onto her back and the full weight of his body crushing down on top of Elizabeth smothered the rest of her outraged shout. Before she could resist him, he had forced open her legs-lunging his cock up between her thighs and pinning her to the carpet, his strong young hands grasping her wrists and holding the woman's arms flat above her head.
Richard was prepared for a desperate struggle, but Elizabeth suddenly went limp: her body relaxing under him and her flashing green eyes softening and becoming moist with a new kind of desire.
“Oh, you bad boy!” she breathed. “You couldn't wait, could you? You had to take me now-while your prick was burning so hotly! And I'm so helpless!” Elizabeth said faintly, her expression pleading and vulnerable. “You could do anything you wanted with my body, couldn't you? Please treat me gently, don't fuck me too roughly, my darling! I promise not to struggle…”
It was hopeless. Richard realised that with this kind of jaded, insatiable sophisticate, any form of kinky behaviour was acceptable: especially the pretence that she was a demure young innocent about to be raped!
But he couldn't stop now. His own lust was boiling through his loins, heating his cock and making it yearn to sink deeply into a wet, tightly-squeezing cunt. He jabbed the crown of his sex forward-ramming it past the invitingly parted lips of the woman's quim, crying savagely as it entered the slit and fucked higher and higher into the juicily-moist hole…
“Ahhh! Ahhh, darling! More gently… please, oh, don't treat my poor pussy so cruelly!”
Her voice told Richard that she meant exactly the opposite-and he made a piston of his cock; working it in and out of her dribbling cunt until Elizabeth slurred her enticing endearments, the words becoming a low, grateful moaning-punctuated with sharper cries as he fucked in a wide, sweeping arc, screwing the length of his sex so that it turned thickly around; stirring into the wet pudding of her quim and provoking the woman into a series of swift, violent climaxes…
But Elizabeth wasn't satisfied with this one-man fucking-however pleasurable and tinged with overtones of rape it might be. She summoned Spencer to her side with an imperious inclination of her forefinger, and turned her head to greet his prick as the boy crouched down and offered his well-sucked weapon to her mouth. It sank between Elizabeth's lips again-a grateful sigh escaping her as she felt the two most sensitive orifices of her body being filled with thick male meat!
Spencer's testicles were fondled until they ached by her inquisitive fingers, the nail of one digit scratching persistently at the thin fold of skin at the hilt of his cock; tormenting him ceaselessly until the boy suddenly jetted out a stream of spunk-straining urgently forward, the hairy base of his knob pressed to Elizabeth's mouth, while the sperm gushed down the woman's throat.
The taste of his ammonia-flavoured seed sent her into a near-hysterical frenzy: and as Elizabeth sucked Spencer's prick, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the thick spunk it was ejaculating, she bounced madly up and down beneath Richard's fucking loins-her buttocks rising from the carpet and her crotch pulsating so rapidly that her young stud felt his juice rising in answer to the woman's crisis-
He rode with punishing, brutal strokes into her cunt, trying to fuck in and out as many times as possible before the orgasm erupted, finally shaking and sobbing as the mighty wave of climax took possession of his body and carried him into a white-hot haze of ecstasy.
Richard's spending was glorious and sustained. He hammered again and again at Elizabeth's slit, pouring his rich milk into the red hole, wanting to fill her with the cream until it ran out of her mouth and her ears…
But the victory belonged to Elizabeth. As he collapsed, drained of sperm and energy, across the woman's body, Richard knew that she was well-content with his performance. Instead of forcing her to reject him, he had won his spurs in her estimation: showing himself to be a worthy addition to her “stable” of well-paid lovers!
All right, he vowed angrily. If that's what she wants, then I'll be the best damned cowboy she's ever had! I'll fuck her day and night-until her cunt is so sore that she screams for me to stop! And I'll take her bloody money and her presents… I'll earn them, and I'll enjoy them! What does it really matter, anyway? Beirut was just a dream, a schoolboy's fantasy! I'd starve out there-or be shipped home by the fucking Consulate! Lisa can manage on her own. She's got Miss Wynter to take care of her… and now I've found someone to look after me!
A transformation was etched into Richard's features as he made this promise to himself. The eyes now lost their final trace of wistful innocence; the mouth set into what was to become a permanent, cynical hardness. He knew, for one brief, disappearing moment, that he was tasting the bitter fruit of corruption… but that insight quickly faded, leaving him determined to enjoy his new life to the full-no matter what price he had to pay for Elizabeth's patronage…
Sullen-faced, Richard forced his tired body into alertness and prepared to fuck his mistress again.
CHAPTER NINE
For the first two years of her stay in Beirut, Lisa had confined her company to the English and French community. She was naturally acquainted with several Arab-Lebanese servants and shopkeepers in the city, but it wasn't until her third summer at the school that Lisa formed a more personal relationship with the rightful inhabitants of the country.
By this time, in the early summer of 1967, the girl had lost every trace of the gauche mannerisms and the slight shyness which her cloistered early environment had given her. Lisa's personality was bright and self-assured. She attended all the social functions to which she was invited, making friends easily with the diplomats, smiling serenely at the bitchy remarks made in her earshot by their wives: knowing that her reputation was perfectly safe so long as the diplomats themselves were nicely under her thumb! Although Beirut could hardly be described as an outpost-a dull, end-of-the-world assignment for these Foreign Office officials (is was, of course, precisely the opposite)-they nevertheless found it intriguing that a girl as young as Lisa could behave with such total freedom! It was, after all, an Arab country; with all the necessary moral restrictions which that implied…
Yet Lisa Cunningham not only flaunted herself quite openly, sleeping with anyone who caught her eye-male or female-she also got away with it!
If she had reason to suppose that a particularly stuffy diplomat might be thinking of making a complaint (either to her Headmistress at the school or by letter to her father in England), Lisa had only to seek him out privately… often a mere fondling in the darkness would suffice…
She had never had her intimate advances rejected!
One of Lisa's favourite haunts was the Casino at Juni Bay. Unfortunately, even her powers of persuasion could not gain her entrance to the huge gambling palace-since the rules were unyielding; minors under 21 were not admitted, and in any case no one from the finishing school could take part in the games of chance. But she would spend long hours on the pleasantly pastoral hillside outside the Casino, enjoying the wonderful view down onto the white buildings of Beirut, wistfully looking forward to the day when she, too, would join the sophisticated millionaires and businessmen under the dazzling chandeliers…
Lisa preferred to be alone on these occasions, walking the few miles to Juni Bay with a packed lunch and strolling down to one of the deserted beaches towards late afternoon for a dip in the sea before she caught a taxi back to school. It wasn't really surprising that the beautiful English girl's solitary presence on the hill-every Saturday afternoon and not infrequently on Sundays as well-should eventually be noticed by the local Arabs.
Ahmed and Mustafa bin Mohammed were brothers who led a small but fanatical group of spiritual/political
