Mississippi Riverboat circa 1851

[DukeOrsino]

OOC: Welcome aboard the Delta Queen, largest and finest gambling & pleasure riverboat even to grace the muddy Father of Waters. It's late evening and the captain has said we'll steam all night until we make Vicksburg at dawn. Gambling in the downstairs main parlor can get serious, especially with the Duke playing draw poker. He's a refugee from some European mini-kingdom, formerly heir to the dukedom but forced to flee after killing the cousin of the Hapsburg Emperor in a duel. Now he plies the riverboats, making his living as a gambler. They say he's killed eleven men on the Mississippi, and that's just during card games. But tonight he's ready to stake everything for a chance at the surly beauty who's standing behind his chief rival, the owner of the Delta Queen, Blackjack Conners. And of course there are the lawmen who might try to take the Duke off the boat to stand trial for any of the shoot-outs in his recent past. But none of them are on his mind as he gazes across the table at the buxome woman whose and rests lightly on the shoulder of Blackjack Conners..all he can think about is how much he would like to gamble on a night with her to change his luck..

 

[DukeOrsino]

The riverboat has twenty cabins upstairs, several used by professional women on Blackjack Conner's staff..but the Duke has the last cabin, by the paddlewheel. Tonight, he had the porter chill a bottle of French champagne by dragging it six feet below the river surface in a cooling basket. There is some risk of the bottle exploding on uncorking, but Orsino is a gambling man. And perhaps tonight he would invite one of Conner's women to share the bubbly with him. It might cost as much as twenty dollars US for her favors, but he was willing to pay for quality.

 

[Silkyheat]

OOC: The surly beauty, Iris. Spoiled, soiled dove of Blackjack Connors, owner of the Delta Queen. A tall 5'7",
waist-length auburn hair piled high on her head, slanted green cat eyes, a protected, milk-white skin, and a beautiful figure with an ample bust make her know her worth.



IC: The thought swirls around in her head over and over:
"I am so bored." The smoke from her lover's cigar is nearly choking her as she stands just behind him as he bluffs his way through a hand with a measly low three of a kind. Amid the clinking of the glasses and the sound of too many men talking at once around her, she hears a low hiss and looks around to find it's source. She looks and sees that it's the Duke, that infamous gambler and possibly murderer, who the sound came from; and he's looking at her.

Iris knows she is dressed well. Her low-cut bodice conceals just enough to remain legal, and the red satin fabric is the perfect compliment to the red in her hair. Beribboned and ruched as is the highest fashion of the day, clinging tightly to her torso and flaring out to cover the required hoop, yards and yards of the expensive fabric were drawn and painstakingly sewn with little pink and white roses. Her corset not tied too tight because she luckily had a nice figure, she didn't suffer the fainting spells so common to women. Of course, she was not a member of the priveledged classes, but she knew she had it good. She also knew it was only because of her beauty that she escaped survitude altogether. Well...the menial kind anyway. She believed all women were in servitude and suffering and it burned in her heart. No one knew the depths of Miss Iris Kincaid. Not one man she ever knew even realized she could read, much less her attempts to help other women...

She snaps out of her musings to realize the Duke is still staring at her. She fidgets under his stare. All men look at her, but they know the man the stands behind will shoot them cold if they try anything. This man did not touch her, but she has never felt so exposed in her life. She shudders and looks away.

 

[DukeOrsino]

"Blackjack," the Duke says to Conner, "you're down almost two thousand dollars. I am raising your bet. Do you have anything to cover it?"

He flicked the ashes off his cigar and glanced around the crowded, smoky room. "Just my boat."


Orsino leaned back in his chair and smiled, stratching his hands in a birdsnest gesture above his head. "Well, sir, I will take that collateral, if you are serious."

Conner nodded. "I am. Here's the title to the Delta Queen. Now, you Frenchie bastard, I call."

Orsino spread out his cards. Four sevens. "Well, Jack?"

"Damn you--I had three aces!"

The Duke laughed as raked in the chips, the reached for the deed to the Delta Queen.

"Wait!" Conner said. His lips were curled like a dog about to bite. His hand trembled, like he wanted to pull his revolver. But he knew that would be a bad decision. The Duke coolly sat ack, his fingers perched in a steeple.

"Did you have something in mind, Blackjack?" Orsino said softly. The gambling hall was still as a graveyard in a midnight fog.

"Yeah," he said. His hand reached up and grasped Iris' wrist. "You been looking at her all night. I give her to you in place of my boat. She's my property, bought and paid for."

Orsino frowned. "How can this fair-skinned woman belong to you?"

"Because she's 1/8 nigger. And in Mississippi, that's enough to keep you a slave. Got two pale blondes back in Buloxi."

Orsino studied the busty wench. She was clearly white, yet some quirk of American law allowed this snake-pedding dog to own her. The Duke felt his teeth clenching. "Nobody should own anybody, Blackjack. White, brown, red or yellow."

Conner sneered. "That ain't the law in Mississippi. Do we have a deal?"

"All right," the Duke shoved the deed to the Delta Queen back at Conner. "Give me her slave papers--now."

"I got 'em in my safe. You can have the lot in the morning."

"Bullshit." Orsino's pistol was out before Conner saw the Duke's hand move. "I want the papers in my hand now, or you are a dead man. And I keep the deed to the boat."

Within ten minutes, the Duke held a single sheet of paper with Iris' birthdate and slave registration on it. It was true. Born May 1829..Memphis...her mother was 1/4th negroid and a slave. That made all her children slaves, too.

Orsino nodded and put the pistol away. "Send he up to my cabin within the hour." He gathered his wining chips and the crowd parted to let him pass.

 

[Silkyheat]

Iris couldn't help it. She gasped out loud when Blackjack grabbed her wrist and jerked her forward, her breasts smashing into his shoulder, threatening to spill from the top of her dress. When he said she was to be the Duke's winnings instead of the boat, she wished the floor would open up and let her fall through, but at the gasp that ran through the previously silent crowd as Blackjack pronounced her a nigger, Iris felt her world shrink into nothing. Half the men in the hall that looked at her before with lust and admiration now glared at her in hate. A couple of the women, once friendly, now sneered at her; especially Alice, who wanted to be Blackjack's favorite. She had been looking for a way to best Iris, and now it was handed to the spiteful witch.

She wanted to scream. That was a secret Blackjack promised to keep! How could he do this? She looked at the man who now owned her, the Duke, and felt somewhat relieved when he looked so angry at the thought people could be owned. Maybe he wouldn't be a cruel Master, then. Blackjack sometimes was cruel, but what say did she have in the matter? None. Her fate was sealed at birth and she had learned to live with it, though she preferred to hide the fact, and did it well due to her coloring.

She looked at the Duke again and just heard him say, "Bullshit" before with a blur like she had never seen before his gun was pointed at Blackjack, and through him, her. Blackjack nodded at one of his men to get the papers and Iris did think she was going to pass out from the terrible tension in the room. She felt like all her nerves were on fire from holding herself so rigid.

When the papers were handed to the Duke, she watched his face as he scanned them and saw the realization settle into the contours of his face. He looked at her briefly before glaring at Blackjack and snarling, "Send her up to my cabin within the hour." With that, he rose from the table, and as
he gathered his stacks of winnings she saw that he was really a large man, but he moved very quickly, smoothly, like quicksilver. He flowed.

She looked at Blackjack and he said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go make yourself presentable for your new owner!" She turned and started walking to the cabin she shared with Blackjack, knowing he would not come. She felt like fate was shaking her like a rag doll again and she was angry because there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't let this show, for to Iris it was shameful to feel helpless, and she refused to give in to it. Or her trepidation of the new man that now owned her. The Duke... who killed many. What would her life become now? A thousand such thoughts ran through her mind as she packed her toiletries into her valise and her clothing into a trunk, thankful no one was there to see her trembling hands.

 

[DukeOrsino]

Duke Orsino removed his jacket and slipped the hooks on his ruffled sleeves. It was cooler up here in his cabin, but the night was still far hotter than anything he had experienced in his youth along the Danube. And the humidity! He opened the windows to scoop in air as the Riverboat chugged downstream past dark trees draped with Spanish moss. His hand touched the mosquito netting that prevented the night from becoming a scratching seminar.

A porter brought his bottle of cooled champagne, and he placed it in a bucket of water, wishing for ice. He thought about smoking a Cuban cigar, but he wanted his breath to be fresh. Orsino poured a small measure of Congnac into a rose-shaped glass and sipped, wondering what he would do when she arrived. Slavery--if his parents the Grand Duke and Dutchess knew he now owned a slave, they would disown him forever. But, the thought of this beautiful woman as his property...it was intoxicating. He gulped the congnac as a hand rapped on his cabin door.

"Come in."

 

[Silkyheat]

Iris rapped on the door briskly so her shaking wouldn't betray her. She head him say. "Come in." and twisted the brass knob. Pushing in the door, she only briefly paused before continuing into the room. She set her things down on the floor just inside the door and turned to close it, for a moment thinking of leaving it open.

She looked at the Duke, seated at a table for two under the porthole, a slight breeze ruffling his hair. On the table is a bucket with a bottle rising up from it, a bottle of congac, and two rose-shaped glasses; one of which the Duke held in his large hand, empty. He motions her to the seat opposite him, asking her if she wants a drink. She thinks it might help quell her tight stomach, so she nods her head yes as she looks around the room.

Aside from the table and chairs, there was a bed over by the West wall and a huge wardrobe and writing desk opposite. In the corner behind the door was a pretty painted dressing/necessity screen, a scene of a forest glen done in vibrant colors, the artists' hand muting it to a soft, glowing beautiful fantasy of a place. Her gaze was drawn back to the duke when his bootheels scaped the floor, sending chills racing through her and goosebumps fighting their way to the surface of her skin, making her cold despite the heat. She looked at him, hoping he was still seated, and was pleased that he was. As she perused him without comment, he said...

 

[DukeOrsino]

"What is your name, girl? Iris, isn't it? Turn around and let me look at you...not bad. Nice, broad hips to bare my children, excellent breasts to play with and long legs to wrap around a man..." He laughed. "Come here. Pour us a glass of this.." He opened the champagne, and she ducked as the cork riccocheted off the ceiling behind her.

She sat in the chair opposite his and they sipped in silence. When they had drunk two glasses, he could see she was starting to relax. Orsino reached for her hand and pulled her gently from the chair untill she landed in his lap. Her soft bottom settled atop his manhood and stirred it to life. With Iris perched across his thighs, the Duke could smell her hair and the fresh scent of soap on her neck. She had scrubbed for him. Excellent. He liked that.

"I want to kiss you. And while I am kissing you, I want to stroke your breasts. Will that be acceptable?"

She lowered her head and nodded curtly.

"Isis, look at me. You may refuse."

She nodded again, and so he kissed her, and with the tip of his tongue he gently pried open her tight lips to wiggle inside for a brief taste of her deep sweetness. While his mouth was coaxing her to open untio him, Orsino's hands took full liberty of her large, fleshy breasts. They were big and soft to the touch but still supple enough that he doubted they would sag when freed from their tight constraints.

His fingers found her nipples through the fabric of her dress and they hardened under his gentle ministrations. "Your tits are exquisite...I'd give half my dukedom for a chance to see them uncovered."

She raised her eyebrows at that remark, and he laughed.

 

[DukeOrsino]

OOC: We invite others to play..there are plenty of cabins on the upper deck of the Delta Queen. This paddlewheel riverboat has a long way to go before reaching Vicksburg. The year is 1851...slave trade is in full flourish. Men carry guns and gamble for everything in life. Women can be dainty flowers or on-your-back gang banging whores...the choice is open. Join the Duke and Iris...just send a porter with a note, or stroll into the gambling hall down stairs and have a whiskey. Are there no men tough enough to make it in this liquor-sex-and-lead world? Are there no women hot enough to tame the gents with the pearl-handled .44's?

 

[DukeOrsino]

Duke Orsino waited for her to respond. He smiled playfully.

[Edited by DukeOrsino on 08-22-2000 at 08:17 PM]

 

[dansemajik]

Duke looks up and sees her looking at him. With eyes the color of topaz. A direct look of interest. No shrinking violet here. This lady knows what she wants, and knows how to get it.

Her black hair, is tumbling down her back in waves of curl. She twirls a strand of it in her fingers. Her red fingernails, passing in and out of the hair is hypnotizing. Duke licks his lips.

Her dress is the exact color of her eyes. There is harldly a front to it, as it dips down to reveal the lush curve of her brests. The black lace, amoung the ivory skin creates a look that would make any man forsake his wife. She walks to the bar, in a slow, easy glide. She waits while the barkeep pours her another glass of wine. She turns and looks at Duke, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. She is considering something. She is sending him signals, but he doesn't get exactly what they mean.

She leans down as she passes Duke, and whispers in his ear. "I will be retiring shortly." gives him a small smile and keeps on walking. Her boyfriend, doesn't notice, he is too engrossed in the pile of money on the table, and the cards in his hand.

When she finishes her wine, she says to the riverboat owner, "Darlin, I believe I am going to turn in." He looks up at her and smiles. "Ok, Evie, you do that. I'll see you in the mornin." She gives Duke a look that sent shivers all the way to his toes. Damn, he could feel the heat and the tightening already. He played another hand, and then bowed out, claiming he had lost he was going to tonite.

He went down the passage way to his cabin, and standing outside was this creature in a white silk gown, nothing underneath. She took his hand as he unlocked his door.

 

[Silkyheat]

When the Duke spoke to her, gruffly asking her name, Iris jumped a bit. Then she heard him say, "Pour us a glass of this..." uncorking the champagne, and she thought her heart was going to burst from her chest and fly away when the cork shot past her, narrowly missing her head. Then as she hears him enumerating her assets to him,her Master, she flushed in a mixture of indignation and...what? Could that be desire? Children? Hips to accomodate them? Breasts for him to play with, (And they did not sag) and long legs to wrap tightly around him? She turns away for a moment to think..." He wants to have children with me? What manner of man is this? To want to have children with a slave? A despot! A murderer! Who else, Iris?"

She sat in the chair he indicated and sipped her drink. Before too long, two glasses were in her and she felt the tension draining away. He took her hand and puller her around the table to him and she landed in his lap. Almost immediately she felt him swelling in reaction to her bottom in his lap. She felt him lean in and smell her hair near her neck. She wondered if he liked her rose scented soap. She heard him say softly, "I want to kiss you. And while I am kissing you, I want to stroke your breasts. Will that be acceptable?" Isis looked at her lap so the Duke didn't see her angry eyes and firmly nodded her head once up and down. She knew she had no choice, but she didn't have to be happy about it.

Then he told her she could refuse him and she nodded again. She knew this was a game men used to make themselves feel like they weren't using a woman when they were, and that he would have her anyway.


He put his lips to hers and she kept hers closed. She felt his tongue push against them, licking and sucking gently, and they opened almost without her knowing. The combination of the cognac and champagne tasted wonderful to her. She felt his hands on her bodice, rubbing and lightly pinching to bring her nipples up to make imprints in the fabric. She almost moaned then, but held it in.

Then he said, "Your tits are exquisite...I'd give half my dukedom for a chance to see them uncovered." She looked at him, raising her left eyebrow. She wonders if he is unbalanced. Half his dukedom indeed! Even if he did possess such a thing, he would not give it up for a kiss. Then he threw back his head and laughed and she thought the joke was on her. She tried to get up from his lap, angry now that he had laughed at her, but he pulled her back down and kissed her again. This time it was a full kiss, his tongue leavin no place in her mouth untouched. His hands again cupped her breasts and fondled them into awareness, slipping one hand down her bodice, warmth flowing into her at the contact...

 

[DukeOrsino]

Duke Orsino gently pushed her off his lap. "I believe these are yours." He handed her a set of papers. They were her slave registration documents. He had signed them off, granting total manumission of all conditions of servitude. She was forever free.

"What do you want for these?" Iris said.

"I expected a good kiss. I got a great one. Plus a bonus of boob squeezing. That means I owe you more than just these papers." He fished into his jacket pocket and plopped a stack of blue chips in her hands. "About $2,000 US. Will that cover it?"

She couldn't believe that was happening so fast. Free? And now two thousand dollars? A skilled worker might earn twenty dollars a month. This was a small fortune, enough to buy a shop and start a business that wpould support her for life. "Why are you doing this?"

"Let's just say I know what it's like to be a fugitive for freedom."

"How can I ever repay you?"

"You already have. Services rendered. Now, I have procured cabin #7 for you to spend the night. Tomorrow, I suggest you leave this riverboat at Vicksburg and catch a train to Ohio or Pennsylvania or some other state where slavery is illegal."

"I don't understand. Why?"

He laughed. "You may go now, Iris. You're free."

 

[Silkyheat]

Of all the things that she had expected, dreaded, this never entered her mind. The Duke was setting her free...and giving her money to live on. She couldn't quite belive him, so she asked what he wanted from her. He said he already recieved it. She is stunned into silence. She asks again the why of what he is doing and he simply laughs and says, "You may go now, Iris. You're free."

So many things are swirling through her mind she finds it hard to breathe. A shop...yes. She could make clothing quite well and knew she was smart enough to run a business. But he would give up a slave? That was not usual. Then again, he said he knew how it felt to live without freedom. She knew that statement had to be correct.

She had never been so kindly gifted by anyone and impulsively went to him and hugged him tightly to her and kissed him. She was not totally surprised to feel that warmth curl around her again or feel him stiffening against her. She deepens the kiss and pulls her dress off her shoulders, down to her waist, the air making her nipples come to life inside the corset. The entire top half of her large firm breasts are now exposed and she pulls her mouth from his and steps back for him to see. He takes a step and lowers his face to her, pressing his mouth to the tops of her mounds, his breath sending little thrills through her body, like small shocks. She pulls away and turns her back on him, sweeping her long hair over her left shoulder to expose the ties of her corset to him...

 

[DukeOrsino]

The Duke fumbles with the strings binding her under garments, his hands trembling. She waits patiently while he attempts to undo her, but finally admits his ineptitude. Isis laughs, reaches behind and unties herself. In a moment, she shakes free, slips out of the hidden secrets of female private garb, and stands before him in glorious flesh tones.

"I have never seen anything so beautiful," Orsino whispers. "I want you desperately. But you don't have to do this. Your kiss bought you freedom."

She touched his lips with two fingers, to hush his protest, and began unhooking the clasps that bound his white shirt. As her hands worked she felt hard arms and chest under the cotton, and when his shirt came off she saw his muscular torso was clothed in a light covering of black hair. When she dropped his trousers the biggest surprise appeared. Tightly packed within those New Orleans pants, his cock extended halfway down his thigh...it was absolutely huge.
Iris had been a working woman on these riverboats before Blackjack Conner bought her papers, so she had seen her share of male engines. This one was off the scale...perhaps ten or eleven inches long, with a mushroom-shaped, reddish-purple head that glistened with a drop of pre-cum.

She could not constrain herself from kneeling on the throw-rug and kissing his magnificent shaft, which immediately leaped to attention under the ministrations of her warm mouth.

 

[DukeOrsino]

OOC: C'mon, guys...we have an extra lady in here who sent me a guilded invatation to her cabin but I couldn't go.. Won't somebody meet Evie outside her room? Reply to dansemajik's post, below...you can even be my twin brother, Count XYZ-whatever if you want...or maybe she mistakes you for me in the darkness outside her room. After all, it's on the upper deck of a riverboat heading down the Mississippi
toward Vicksburg in 1851...are there no red-blooded men out there, ready to take up her offer?

 

[Silkyheat]

His hands on her back as he tries to undo the ties are so warm. A thousand little shiver-ghosts pass over her neck and arms every time he brushes her bare skin. It's taking him so long, then finally he admits he can't seem to manage and she laughs, turning to face him once more as she reaches to her back and loosens them herself.

She slowly removes the corset from her breasts and lets it fall from her fingertips to the floor. Standing proudly before him, her breasts seeming to point at him, her nipples are little bullets of desire, waiting to explode in his hot mouth.

As he stares raptly at her unbound breasts he whispers, "I have never seen anything so beautiful. I want you desperately. But you don't have to do this. Your kiss bought you freedom."

She silences him, fingers covering his mouth, and begins taking his shirt off, delighting in the curly black hair and strong muscles that moved like a body under a silk sheet, rippling in sensuous waves. She kisses his chest as her hands take down his trousers, her surprise obvious as she uncovers his very large erection.

Iris was no stranger to the varieties in men's bodies, but she had never even heard of a man possessing so much manhood. She thought it likely to be about eleven inches. She felt her insides tighten, but whether in fear or anticipation she did not know. She had never been with a man so large and didn't know if she could do it. But it was a magnificent sight, one she knew she would never forget, and she had to look at it up close.

Never taking her eyes off the huge beast, Iris knelt on the rug on the floor in front of the Duke. A red/purple mushroom-shaped head capped off a thick, vein-lined shaft, a drop of pre-cum shining there. She reaches out both small hands to wrap around it, her tongue reaching out for the little taste of moisture. She rubs the head over her open lips, her tongue following it around to catch the flavor it leaves behind. She kisses the head softly and then moves down the hard throbbing length of him, wanting to remember everything about this incredible organ. Her mouth opens wide to suck his big head in, hearing him sigh as she closes her mouth over him.

She places one hand on his rod and starts to caress his tight sack with the other as she slowly takes a little more of his man-meat into her suddenly tiny mouth; feeling a shudder run through him and then his hands in her hair, stroking the silky tresses. She starts sucking at him, her tongue inside twirling around his cap, her lips pushing down, stretching over his bigness, her mouth creating the suction that pulls at him. She can feel herself grow moist in her woman's pleasure-place, silently throbbing deep inside her, where she now knows she wants this man to be...



[Edited by Silkyheat on 08-23-2000 at 02:23 PM]

 

[dansemajik]

Kate boards at port

Her name is Katlyn James. Her family(they are all dead now) used to call her Kate. For the purposes of this trip, journey, she is simply Kate. She has no desire for the dog that stole her family heritage, and killed her father to know who she is.

As she stands on deck waiting patiently for the porter to carry her scant belongs aboard, she gazes around her. She sees many different types of people. Old dowagers, with their, fluffy, yippy dogs. Women of questionable repute, dressed in flashy colors like red and emerald green, with too much chest and leg showing. Men who look like genltemen, others who look like dangerous gun men. She looked out to the great mississippi, the water seemed to have a life of its own. She laughed to herself, thinking of the circumstances that put her here. She never would have thought she would be on a mission of vengeance. To right the terrible wrong done to her family name. These next few weeks would tell. She was going to find that Dog Duke Orsini, and punish him for what he did.

As she followed the porter up the steps to her cabin, she catches the eyes of a man who is openly staring at her. His gaze is smoky, the cigarette, half way to his mouth. She feels herself flush, and puts a hand to her chest to make sure, nothing is poking out, that shouldn't be. Her hand brushes the strand of hair back, and while her bosom is exposed to the degree that is deemed proper, it is strained.
But that is because of the way she was built. Blasted breasts. She often wished she'd been born a man.

She felt the eyes rake over her. Taking in the hair that fell like a waterfall of molten pennies down her back, the eyes that rivaled the color of stormy skies. The facial structure which was strong, but feminine. The determination of the small chin. Those lips that she unconciously licked, making them glisten, they begged to be kissed. The gaze traveled down her ivory neck, to the neckline of the green dress she wore. The dress hugged her to her hips, then fell in cascades of lace and silk to hide the treasures under it. When his smoky eyes traveled back to hers he was amused by the raised eyebrow of the pixie. As if asking him what right does he have to peruse her person? He laughed as she turned her back on him and entered her cabin.

She was a bit flustered as she opened her trunk and withdrew the one shot silver derringer from it's hiding place. She laid it next to the garter she would be wearing to dinner that night. The night she would meet and begin her mission of destroying Duke Orsini. She didn't know it, but she already had met him, and he had decided he certainly did want to meet this lovely creature....Who was going to do what to whom?

 

[DukeOrsino]

Duke Orsino felt Iris' velvety mouth engulf the head of his penis..she lingered there, where men most want a woman's lips to work on them, her soft lips brushed past the purple-red head of Orsino's massive cock as her tongue lapped it like a child attacking a stick of barber-pole candy. He gasped and could not restrain himself from grabbing a fistfuls of her auburn hair and pressing her head harder against him. Iris bobbed her mouth on his cock until he coud stand it no longer. He had to have her urgently... the oldest way known to man and woman. He guided her to the bed where he mounted her, face to face, French-kissing her exquisite lips as she gasped while he slid his huge engine into her tight, moist receptacle.

"I will take it slowly...I know I am very big for your tight little pussy. There..just a little..more..a little more..relax. It won't hurt if I get to know you inch-by-inch. There...I am nearly all inside you. God, you feel so good. I must thrust further...does that hurt? I can feel your back wall with the tip of my dick. It feels so good to have you writing as I impale you with this spear of love. Iris..I want to drive you mad with passion. I want you to scream as I drive my big cock in and out of you endlessly... and I need to warn you, I don't cum easily..I will fuck you for at least an hour...ummm...yess..you are so hot..God, I love how it feels when I slide back and thrust into you...talk to me..tell me how it feels."

 

[Silkyheat]

Iris had never taken so much man in her mouth before. She could feel it stretching her lips as she tried to fit as much in as she could. He was so warm and velvety, a pleasure for her tongue to dance on. She gets enough of it in her mouth and since it's so big suction is not a problem, and she starts pulling him in and out of her mouth with a rhythm that only she hears that she wants to transmit to him. His hands in her long hair and his grunts and groans tell her she has given it to him.

He pulled away, his cock almost popping out of her mouth. He took her elbow and propelled her to the bed, gently pushing her down on it. She is slick and wet, but worried he won't fit without a lot of pain. She tries not to tighten up as he positions himself over her and puts his cockhead at her opening. He kisses her deeply as he slowly starts to slide into her tight heat, swallowing her gasp of surprise and pleasure.

He talked softly to her, telling her he will take it slow and easy. She can feel her pussy trying to push him back out and she forces herself to relax. It feels good, but it's so much...One inch, and she can feel her walls grip him so tight, closing around him. She sucks in a ragged breath. It's so full inside her, and warm chills are racing through her bloodstream willy-nilly. It feels like all her atoms are colliding inside her, out of control. She moans into his ear as he slides in further.

She tries to concentrate on what he's telling her, but she catches only a word here and there. The feeling of his huge hot dick sliding in and out, pulling her lips along with it, is like an exquisite form of torture. She felt a warmth spread through her as she dripped moisture from the hidden well within to coat him, making the slide a little easier. An ache started to build deep within her; making her stomach hurt, making her squirm against him, trying to make him take her to the place that will soothe the ache, make it go away.

Her breasts and neck flushed, her nipples hard little peaks of tight desire, Iris closed her eyes tight and slid her legs low around the Duke's hips, entwining her legs with his, lifting up slightly. What did he say? He was going to fuck her for an hour? Ohhhh my...

 

[ranajja]

Take a ride on a riverboat.....

Mrs. Fitzhugh strolled along the deck, alone. She was cultured and sophisticated, and quite wealthy. Her deep blue gown was well cut and stylish--and form fitting, tastefully accentuating every curve.

Mrs. Fitzhugh loved to travel, loved to see new places, but she also loved to watch people. There were many on board, some were more...interesting than others.

Such as that young man, over there. Mrs. Fitzhugh visually took him in--- arrogant sensuality with a boyish innocence. She liked what she saw, and, as if on cue, he turned and his eyes caught hers, matching her gaze. Then he smiled, a playful, mischievous smile, and she couldn't help smiling in return, her rosy lips curling delicately. Mmmm, she thought, almost licking her lips, I could eat him for dessert....

He raised his glass to her, nodding in salute. She gave him a sidelong look, then walked away, feeling his eyes on her as she moved away from him.


Mrs. Fitzhugh entered her cabin, took off her hat, gloves, and prepared to freshen up a bit before dinner. She took out the pins holding her honey-colored hair, allowing it to cascade down her back in soft waves. She slowly brushed her hair, thinking about the delectable young man she'd seen, and, if she played her cards right, she'd have in her bed before the night was through.

Smiling, she thought how she loved to travel this way. Amanda Fitzhugh, beautiful young widow, with nothing better to do with her money than travel, and travel well. Truth be told, she was not a widow at all, and the dearly departed Mr. Charles Fitzhugh actually never existed. Amanda had spent many years of her young life in New Orleans making rich men very happy. As luck would have it, she had kept one very vigorous, very rich but very old gentleman extremely happy for several years. When he died, much to the shame and dismay of his family, he had left a significant portion of his wealth to Amanda.

Amanda was no fair-haired featherbrain, and had immediately invested her money, and, with the assurances of her financial advisors that she would never have to work again, she had set about creating a new identity for herself. As it was scandalous for a single woman of means to travel unescorted, she became Mrs. Fitzhugh, fashionably widowed, tastefully sensuous, who could, quite discreetly, have whichever lover she wished, male or female. And tonight, she smiled to herself, she wanted that handsome young man, the one with the dark hair and intense green eyes.....

 

[citore]

Adam Wainwright

He had been 17 when he was packed up and sent south aboard the “Delta Queen”, “A floating whore house” his mother had protested. It hardly mattered, he was due his shot at the freedom being a man would bring. Adam’s father, Adam Augustus Wainwright IV, had followed the same ritual with each of his sons. An extended trip to care from some urgent “family business”. Family business was the excuse for this trip, but this was not entirely a business trip.

Adam was to turn 18 a week after departing from Louisville Kentucky - the was 3 days past now - Wainwright senior expected his youngest son to return a “man”. His brothers before had returned from their pilgrimage to manhood with stories of women and drink and tales of out smarting whomever they had business dealings with.

Adam Wainwright had two passions in life, horses and women. Yes, the wrong order, but having turned 18 just days ago, Adam was long on desire and short on actual experience. The gentility of rural Louisville Kentucky made it difficult to pursue the women he so longed to hold, to feel. This trip included virtual permission to “revel” as mother claimed, so revel he would. It was easy to see that if women was to be his pursuit, that this boat was a good place to be. His age scarcely mattered here, he could buy pussy here as easily as he cold buy whiskey!

Adam had been sent off to some remote Louisiana parish, west of Natchez, Mississippi to purchase a horse, Adam’s other passion, for his father. Adam was a born horseman, he was an excellent judge of horses and should have no trouble succeeding at the task. The owner of the horse promised to be a happening, a “free - man of color” was the description father had given. Adam knew lots of “men of color”, but none free. Tales of the “fastest horse east of the Rockies” had reached Louisville and Wainwright senior wanted to be the first to have a shot to purchase this animal ..... he also was looking for an opportunity to send young Adam off for his chance to add to the “Wainwright legacy”.

Down stream of Cairo Missouri the face of the river had change for Adam. After the Ohio had flowed into the Mississippi, the climate had seemed to change to a more tropical, humid one and the heat became more oppressive and he longed for the night and relief.

Adam had first seen the lovely blonde when she had boarded at the last port-of-call. Her beauty was exquisite and the air of sophistication the followed her was intimidating to the young Wainwright and intimidation would not normally go unchallenged, maybe she would be the next to fall to the Wainwright charm he mused. Now as he felt her eyes on him from across the deck, he returned her glances, vowing not to be the one to break eye contact, sending the message that he was up to the challenge she presented.

As quickly as she had caught his eye, she spun and headed of to the fore deck and the guest cabins. Adam watch as she disappeared and entertained the thought of following her. Such a thing would be unheard of in the gentile society of rural Louisville, but here, on board this ship, it had become evident that the normal rules of decorum were not informed .....

His trance was broken by the copper haired beauty who was being led to her cabin by the porter. Her green dress highlighted her shapely hips nice package thought Adam, maybe she’ll be the lucky lady. Either would do nicely he thought, hell both of them! Dad would expect no less ..... Off into the shadows of the night he walked, in the direction of the guest cabins .....

 

[ranajja]

Mrs. Fitzhugh sat alone, toying with her food. She had chosen her attire carefully, the color flattering to her smooth creamy skin. She surreptitiously glanced around, looking for the object of her desire. She had made a few discreet inquiries and had found out her young man was a Wainwright, the youngest son of the wealthy gentleman farmer from Louisville, Kentucky.

She wondered how experienced he would be. He was fresh faced with boyish good looks, and she fantasized about how he would look, naked, between the sheets of her bed, how it would feel to have his eager hands on her skin. Would he be a virgin, she wondered, and laughed softly to herself at the thought of "deflowering" him......

Last night over brandy, a charming new acquaintance, that roguishly handsome Duke Orsino, had told her of the ingenious method that was used on this riverboat to cool champagne. Today she had ordered a bottle herself for this evening, and now toyed with the idea of whether to drink it out of glasses, or lap it off of bare skin....

 

[citore]

Having freshened up in his cabin, Adam was once more ready for night on the river, as he watched the sun setting, watched the red muddy waters of the mighty river, his mind drifted ..... to thoughts of why he was here, to thoughts of women he desired, the experiences he'd had ..... no, not a virgin, but not far removed. In fact it had only been a few months ago and it had been, of all things, thanks to a won bet with his older brother, the horse Adam had bet on came from being 6 lengths behind in the final turn to win by a head .....

The "prize" to the winner was the pleasures of Sally Beckham, a petite slave girl who worked in the kitchen back home. She was attractive enough and the experience had been quite pleasurable. But now, here on the Delta Queen, his fancy had turned to women, not the girls back home, the slave girls or otherwise. Something about the slave girls who felt compelled to cooperate just did not sit easy with Adam, so the Sally Beckham incident was not the norm. The norm was to be led down a promising path only to be cut off when things really got heated. They were apparently very proud of their pussies, only bringing them out for special occasions, none of which Adam had figured out. It was not from lack of effort on his part, Adam seemed perpetually stuck with a dick as hard as 2 bits worth of jawbreakers.

The formal dining of the main dining room seemed to be the most likely place to cross paths with either of the beauties Adam had encountered earlier. He hoped that either would be dining there too .....

Entering the dining room, Adam perused the room, noticing the elegant blonde from the fore deck earlier. She stuck his fancy and he set about getting to her table.

"Ma'am, are you dining alone this evening?" he asked

Her reply caught Adam off guard; she looked over her glass of liquor and said ......

 

[ranajja]

"Mr. Wainwright, what a pleasure it is to finally make your acquaintance." She held up a delicate hand, and enjoyed the small thrill as he brought her hand to his lips.

She crossed her ankles, squeezing her thighs together in delightful anticipation. Under the voluminous skirts, Amanda had chosen to go without "proper" undergarments, and she unconsciously licked her pouting lips, feeling the wetness between her legs....