Secret Fantasy

By Vanessa Davies

Stella and Katya hold sexy parties in a Surrey mansion, where perverse desires are satisfied in a fetish room called the O-Zone. When mysterious Mark turns up, Stella is baffled by his cool indifference to the raunchy goings-on around him. Now she and Katya are rising to the challenge of how to turn Mr Cool on, trying to unlock the key to his secret sex fantasies. Their rivalry increases after Katya discovers Stella's private diary - but can she put the information she has gleaned to good use and beat Stella at her own game, with a grateful Mark as the prize?
This novel contains explicit sex scenes of a varied nature. If you are offended by such material please do not purchase this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Ambrose
• Release date: Sep 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465927705

Vanessa Davies

Vanessa Davies is a British author of hot romance and erotica. She also writes as Vivienne Lafay, Rebecca Ambrose, Nadine Wilder and Rosanna Challis.

Book preview

SECRET FANTASY

by

Vanessa Davies

Copyright © Vanessa Davies 2011

Chapter One

'That's it, Trisha – really give it to him! . . . Ooh, Leonie! Bet that feels good! . . . Do you really wanna hurt me, Alex? . . . I can feel that in my . . . don't stop!'

Stella was mingling with her guests, as any good hostess should, making sure everyone was having a good time. After all, she had a reputation to keep up. The parties held at Mon Désir were regarded as amongst the most exciting in England. The guest list consisted of wealthy London residents and their partners, and the fame of this suburban bacchanalia was spreading. Held in a large mansion, on the edge of a wood in Surrey, the venue offered complete privacy and plenty of room to indulge Stella's own - and other people's - fantasies.

'Okay if I take Frankie into the O-Zone now?'

The question made Stella spin round. It was Katya, her partner-in-crime, with a masked man in tow. He was stripped to the waist displaying a somewhat flabby chest, manacles around his wrists and ankles.

'Fine!' Stella smiled. Frankie was a regular, and Katya knew exactly how to treat him once they were in the anonymous haven of the O-Zone, the secret chamber where anyone's innermost desires could be fulfilled. 'I think it's free right now, but I know a couple who plan to use it soon, so I'd get in there quick.'

As Katya led her blindfolded protégé out of the room, Stella glanced round the debauched scene before her once again. She recognised most of the people there. Trisha was whipping a blond Adonis over in the corner, making stripes across his tanned, naked buttocks until he groaned with satisfaction, and she was obviously getting off on it herself.

Lovely Sidonie was being seen to, front and behind, by two experienced lesbians who were wielding their dildoes with an expertise born of long practice. The girls looked exquisitely beautiful with their long hair – one fair and one dark – artfully arranged over their bare breasts. They made such an exquisite tableau that Kit, a shameless voyeur, was taking shot after shot of them with his digital camera. No doubt the photos were destined to end up on some Internet site before long.

Tonight, there were even a couple of guys from New York. Stripped to their Calvin Kleins, and with two topless girls spraying cream on their nipples, they certainly looked as though they'd have something to tell the folks back home!

Then there was strange, bi-sexual Alex. No-one knew the sex of this exotic creature. It was a secret the she-male kept to him - or her - self. Even in the O-Zone, Alex declined to remove any of the exquisite costumes gracing that elegant body. Stella knew this for sure, because she was able to observe what went on in there. Her pulses raced as she contemplated the private screenings she could indulge in any time she pleased, for her own satisfaction.

After making a panoramic survey of the room, Stella decided to retreat to her private room right away. The sight of so much naked flesh was getting too much to bear, and she felt her own needs growing more urgent. Participation in the fun and games was not something she generally allowed herself. After all, someone had to keep an eye on the proceedings, to make sure everyone was enjoying themselves.

She regarded herself as extremely fortunate to have met Katya, her lover and closest friend, who had inherited the house a from a rich aunt. Together they had designed the interior to suit their sinful purposes. Everything about the place aroused the senses. There were curves and arches everywhere, little alcoves where couples - or threesomes - could retreat and draw the heavy, velvet curtains that would ensure their privacy. Heady perfumes wafted around like invisible ghosts, inducing deep relaxation and sensual bliss. There were bowls of exotic fruits set out for the plunder, carafes of wine to be quaffed at will. A room had been set aside as a wardrobe, where guests could display their charms in a wide array of silks and satins, leather and lace, feathers and fur. And music played – so softly that the effect was almost subliminal – music that alternately soothed and aroused, relaxed and stimulated.

'A veritable temple of delight,' a satisfied guest had once said, and the phrase lingered in Stella's mind whenever she thought about Mon Désir, filling her with deep excitement. Although she preferred to defer her gratification during the party, putting her guests' needs first, when it was over she and Katya usually retreated to their private quarters for a prolonged session of love-making that more than made up for having to wait.

Once she'd satisfied herself that everything was going swingingly, Stella slipped quietly from the room and made her way down the corridor to the stairs. Most of the rooms above were strictly out of bounds to guests. It was a good job no-one knew that their activities were being spied on by their hostess, because it wouldn't do for them to become inhibited or - worse - rampant exhibitionists, in front of the well-hidden cameras.

If anything, the room that the two women had reserved for their personal use, was even more opulent than those downstairs. As Stella opened the door with her gold key, the strains of her favourite music could be heard, and a whiff of delightfully decadent perfume, redolent of some sybaritic brothel, reached her nostrils. She breathed in deeply, letting the sound and scent fill her being, before locking the door behind her. Now she was safe in her secret haven, and a burst of intense erotic excitement seized her as she kicked off her high-heeled shoes and walked towards the console at the far end.

There were two large screens set up opposite a viewing couch in deep-buttoned leather, covered by a velvet throw. Stella flicked the remote and both screens flickered into life. The one on the left showed the room where the party was being held. Any corner of the room could be accessed by the roving eye of the camera, scanning the hot action and zooming in wherever Stella's fancy took her. The equipment was state-of-the-art, producing pictures so well defined that she could count pubic hairs, or trace the slow engorgement of a woman's nipple or a man's cock.

Stella settled down comfortably, with a sigh of contentment. She loved seeing people lose their inhibitions at her parties, getting off on each other in orgiastic abandon. For a few moments she focused on the slick folds of Sidonie's labia as she lay satiated, her damp thighs spread apart, after the ministrations of her two lovers had left her gasping and spent. The lesbian pair were now totally absorbed in each other, stroking and kissing while their limbs were entwined, their lower bodies moving in perfect rhythm back and forth.

Then Stella turned her attention to the right-hand screen, where Katya's punishment of the submissive Frankie was well under way. In the hothouse atmosphere of the O-Zone the man was sweating like a pig, but more from sexual tension than from heat. After all, there was no telling what Katya might do to him, no knowing how far she would go. Already he was in agony from the clamps that hung from his pale nipples, and each time she slapped his wobbling buttocks with a fringed leather thong he gave a fresh moan of pain that, to an untrained ear, might have sounded like pure torment, but Stella knew that he was in the dark throes of a perverse bliss.

Next to the viewing couch was a pine chest. Unable to control her libido any longer, Stella flung open the lid and surveyed the fine collection of sex toys neatly arranged inside. She drew out a couple of promising items, then slid the thin straps of her low-cut satin dress off her shoulders to expose ample breasts, thrust upwards with inviting pertness by her half-cup bra.

Still surveying the two screens, Stella let her fingers trail lightly across the deep divide between her breasts, evoking delicious tickly sensations that were soon notching up her arousal to unbearable levels. She had no mercy on herself, however, knowing that the longer she left her desires unquenched, the more intensely gratifying it would be when she finally brought herself off. Of course that would only keep her ticking over until later, when she was finally able to indulge herself with Katya.

Lazily Stella stroked her inner thighs with her left hand, while she continued to pull softly at her nipples with the fingers of her right hand. Her breasts were hard and ripe now, aching with desire, and she could feel the valley between her thighs growing hot and steamy with her juices. Her gaze flicked to the party scene again as the camera moved over the scene with lazy indifference, first highlighting the twin erections of the American visitors as two buxom girls worked on them with enthusiasm, then moving on to show tiny, boyish Trisha being thoroughly serviced by the hunk whose bum she'd been whipping, minutes earlier.

'Ah!' Stella let out an involuntary gasp as her fingers rose high into the wet cavern of her sex and found the erect nub of her clitoris. She reached for the large black dildo that promised 'High Speed Four-Way Action' and placed it between her spread thighs, in readiness. Impatient to feel the hot globes of her breasts, she struggled to remove her bra completely, moaning softly as her hands clasped the mounds of flesh and squeezed, trapping her firm nipples between her fingers. God, that felt so good! Sometimes, if she was in the mood, she could make herself come just by stimulating her nipples.

Through half-closed eyes Stella could still glimpse the screens, and things were certainly hotting up in the O-Zone. Katya was making her slave lick the sweat off her cleavage. Frankie was resting his wobbly chin on the red leather bustier she was wearing and obviously relishing every second of it, his stubby little cock rearing between his pale thighs, ready for action. But would Katya take advantage of his erection, or ignore it completely? There was no way of knowing. The unpredictability of his mistress was part of what gave Frankie his kicks.

But when Stella glanced at the other screen what she saw amazed her. The camera was pointing at a tall, well-dressed man sitting on one of the black leather sofas in the lounge area. In his hand was a glass of champagne, and he was staring fixedly at something – or somebody – in the room that was out of shot. The weird thing was that the juxtapositioning of the two screens made it look just as if he was observing the action in the O-Zone.

It was such an odd sight that Stella clapped her musky fingers to her mouth in surprise. She began to giggle, as the stranger took a sip of champagne, his eyes apparently riveted to the scene that was being enacted by Katya and Frankie. They had reached the stage where Frankie was paying homage to his mistress's pussy – with his tongue. His hands were tied behind his back and he knelt on the ground in front of the couch where she sat, thighs apart, caressing her own breasts to hasten her climax. The guest was still sitting calmly on the sofa, as if he were at some boring cocktail party, but he looked as though he were taking in every stage of Katya's inexorable rise towards sexual satisfaction.

Five minutes before, Stella might have found the sight stimulating enough to trigger her own orgasm, but now the mysterious stranger had claimed her attention, and she found herself becoming fascinated by him. She could feel her pulses still throbbing away with unsatisfied lust, but instead of doing anything about it she remained fixated on the handsome guest. Who was he? Stella couldn't remember spotting him on any of her earlier walkabouts. If she had, she would certainly have approached him, to ensure he was enjoying himself.

The strange thing was, he didn't look as if he were having a good time. His finely-chiselled features were set in a mask of polite indifference, and his posture was almost prim, the long legs crossed. The only relaxed part of him seemed to be his left arm, which was lying casually along the padded arm of the sofa, while his right hand held the delicate glass of fizz. His black hair was slicked back in a fashionable quiff, and his dark eyes, under their arching brows, surveyed the scene with barely disguised ennui.

Who was he? Stella absolutely had to find out. He must have come with someone – no-one could attend any of her parties uninvited unless they were vouched for by another guest – so it was just a question of finding out which of the many men, or women, present could lay claim to him. But first, she decided, she would have some naughty fun with him.

The camera could be controlled by the remote. Switching off the other screen, Stella got the camera to focus directly on the man's face then zoom in. Now he was looking straight into lens, every nuance of expression on his impassive, handsome face would be caught in fine detail. Stella reached over to the small humidor on the table, next to the couch, and removed a nut-brown cheroot with her slender fingers. She placed the slim cigar between her pink, glossy lips then picked up the gold Cartier lighter that was also on the table, flicking it alight. With narrowed eyes she played the flame over the furled end until her drawing breaths finally ignited the tobacco and she felt the delicious smoke circulating inside her mouth.

Stella blew the smoke directly at the close-up of the man's face on the screen. She half expected to see him flinch, as she laughed. 'Okay, big boy, let me show you a good time!'

Lying back on the couch with her thighs apart, exposing her naked sex, Stella prepared to relish the fantasy of being watched. Through the scented haze of cigar smoke she saw the stranger take another sip of champagne. He looked exactly as if he were observing her now, a suave voyeur, so cool and unaffected by the sight of her voluptuous body lying there. She continued to take occasional puffs at her cheroot while her other hand massaged first her tumid breasts, then the wet nub of her clitoris, restoring her previous desires. She'd forgotten all about the dildo, which had fallen to the floor, but explored all the delicate folds of her labia with her own fingers, slicking the juice over her hard, needy clitoris with expert precision.

'Don't you want some of this, pretty boy?' she crooned at the man's blank expression, then gasped as a racking spasm of lust made her double up. She pinched her red nipple hard and felt her love-button quiver in response, but now she needed to come quickly. Her forefinger rubbed vigorously where it most counted, making her moan and writhe, yet still she could see the dark, knowing eyes staring at her from the screen, as if they saw exactly what she was doing and knew just how she felt.

Stella pushed the end of the cheroot into her wet quim, then placed it between her lips: it always made her specially excited to taste her own juices. She drew hard on the furled tube of tobacco and then, as the first waves of her climax hit her unexpectedly, threw the stub onto the floor. 'Oh, God!' she moaned, her lower half shuddering on the verge of coming.

Eyes closed, she could still see the stranger peering at her from the screen. His dark gaze fuelled her orgasm, taking her to heights of mind-blowing passion that she'd seldom achieved before, when taking her solo pleasure. The fierce pangs of pleasure kept pulsating through her, with relentless force, making her sob with extreme joy. The experience was thoroughly ecstatic, and it left her hot, wet and gasping.

For several seconds afterwards Stella lay there on the sofa, squeezing her thighs together in order to wrest the last spasms from her satiated sex, then she collapsed in an exhausted heap. Minutes later she resurfaced, dazed and spent. Sitting up, her glance fell on the carpet: the stub of the cheroot lay where she had dropped it. Like her, it was still smouldering.

She picked it up and took one last drag before throwing it into the ashtray. Looking up at the left-hand screen she was amazed to see that the stranger had left his seat and was nowhere to be seen. A sudden panic seized her as she realised she might never see him again. Stabbing at the buttons on the console, she produced images of every corner of the room but the mystery guest was absent. Then she had the idea of searching the corridors and was relieved when she found him, just going to the bathroom.

It disturbed her that she felt so relieved. What was it about that man? He'd got her so wound up, and yet the thought of him watching her had produced such a fantastic result, despite being a mere figment of her imagination. Was it the way he'd sat there, so cool and detached, surveying the scene of debauchery as indifferently as if it were some boring board meeting? She had