Sex and the Stranger 2: A Mischief Erotica Collection

Stranger, Come Closer to Me (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

In the Wild (#u24b48870-6580-59ce-a9cc-83d5ac11fd9b)

Rose de Fer

The zebra inched forward, nibbling lazily at the grass and flicking its short tail. From time to time it shook its head to banish flies, flicking its bristle-brush of a mane back and forth. The rest of the herd was scattered across the grass, their heads down as they focused on their sole occupation – eating.

Nancy sat back in the grass and raised her knees, using them like a tripod to steady the camera. She twisted the ring of the lens, zooming in on the nearest zebra’s face. His eyes were huge and dark, ringed with black markings like goth eyeliner. She pressed the shutter several times, getting closeups of the limpid chocolatey eyes, the black nose and mouth, the large square teeth.

Then she zoomed out slightly to reveal the animal’s whole head. She loved the way he flicked his ears and twitched his mane. The eyes might be goth, but the hair was full-on 80s punk – a stripy Mohican that seemed a little at odds with the animal’s placid demeanour. What a crazy designer Mother Nature was, painting lavish black stripes on a white horse. Or were they white stripes on a black horse?

The zebra’s mouth never seemed to stop. He munched tirelessly, cutting a path through the grass. Nancy wondered if English grass tasted different to him than the grass where he was originally from. For that matter, what did he make of the weather here? It was a balmy summer day, pleasant enough for the UK, but it was likely many degrees cooler than Africa at this time of year.

As if in response to her thought, the zebra lifted his head and gave a loud snort. He looked around for a few moments, gifting Nancy with some great shots before dipping his head again and returning to his meal.

She checked the camera’s digital display, happy to see that she had plenty of room left on the memory card. She’d already taken hundreds of photos of the herd and various individuals, but this one had proved the most photogenic. It was so peaceful sitting here watching him. She was far enough away that he probably wasn’t even aware of her. He might be startled if she were to reveal herself, but he might also just stare at her with those wide, inquisitive eyes, like a pet horse expecting treats. Maybe she could walk right up to him and feed him apples or sugar lumps.

As a child she’d once seen an old Victorian photo of a man driving a carriage pulled by zebras. Like most little girls, Nancy had been mad about horses, endlessly begging her parents for one of her own. But once she saw the picture, she decided she wanted a zebra instead. She wouldn’t be convinced that they were wild animals that lived far away, that you couldn’t simply go and buy one from the local stable. Her parents had taken her to the zoo to see them instead, where a friendly keeper had told her all about them and even let her stroke one’s soft, velvety muzzle.

The memory made her smile and she snapped some more closeups of the zebra’s head in profile, the grass stalks creating an interesting pattern where they crossed the stripes of his face.

Her mind began to wander and she couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d ridden a horse – a bareback ride she would never forget. It was only a couple of years ago. She’d gone to Mexico to forget about David. Or was it Simon? Well, whichever one it was, he’d vanished from her mind the instant she met Xavier. She could still see her Latino lover, his rich brown skin, his chiselled physique, his penetrating brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. And his hands …

He’d made her feel so tiny and helpless as he’d lifted her up onto the horse that night. The gleaming chestnut stallion was as unclothed as she was, and the sensation of the powerful animal between her naked thighs had made her dizzy with lust. She’d buried her hands in the long mane and squeezed her legs together as Xavier swung up onto his own mount and led them in a long graceful canter along the moonlit beach. The rhythm of the gait had been relentless, stimulating her almost past endurance. She didn’t even bother trying to control the horse; she just let it take her where Xavier led. Within minutes, she was breathing hard, clutching the stallion’s mane as pleasure surged through her, battering her like waves until the sensations took her over completely and she cried out, surrendering to a devastating climax.

She’d barely been able to clamber down off the horse. Even on the sand her legs refused to work. Xavier had laid her down in the surf then and fucked her hard while the water lapped at their toes. She came four times that night.

Nancy’s body tingled in response to the memory. It had been the best holiday of her life and the best fling of her life. She’d returned home refreshed and glowing, with no desire at all to get smashed and listen to endless break-up songs or wallow in the misery of a broken heart the way most people did after a painful split. The loss was David’s. Or Simon’s. Or whatever the hell his name had been. Xavier had been the perfect cure. One week of guilt-free mutual exploitation and a kind of sexual freedom she hadn’t known since – well, since ever.

And that was where she’d left it. It had been an uneventful few months, with only a single one-night stand since Xavier. Nothing to write home about.

From somewhere overhead came the warning cry of a bird and the zebra glanced up, nostrils quivering as he scented the air. Nancy zoomed out to catch him in his posture of attentiveness. And that’s when she saw it. A tawny shape in the distance, hiding in the long grass.

Nancy froze, her heart pounding. The air seemed just as frozen and the silence gathered like a storm. For several seconds she held her breath, paralysed with fear and not knowing what to do. Even at the camera’s full zoom, all she could make out was a blur of pale brown. It was just the right shade for the kind of animal she absolutely didn’t want to be trapped with.

Then the zebra snorted and pawed the ground, returning to his grazing as he dismissed the idea of a threat. It took another few seconds for the penny to drop and then Nancy almost burst out laughing. She’d been so lost in the moment she’d quite forgotten where she was. She wasn’t in the Serengeti. She was in an open-air zoo in England, where the only lions were safely inside their own paddock and neither she nor the zebras had anything to fear from them.

‘Oh, you silly woman,’ she said to herself, and chuckled.

But now her curiosity was piqued. She crept forward on her knees, drawing a little closer to the zebra. He glanced her way once or twice, but seemed satisfied that she was nothing to worry about. She was certainly no predator. When she’d covered half the distance between them, she raised the camera again. Now she could see the ‘lion’ clearly. And what she saw made her smile as she pressed the shutter release.

A man was crouching in the grass opposite, pointing his own camera at the zebra. His face was obscured by the long telephoto lens, but she could see that his bare arms were appealingly muscled. Nancy took a few more shots of the leonine hunter, panning down over his legs and body. He was clearly someone who kept in shape.

‘Come on,’ she whispered, ‘let’s see your face.’

He couldn’t possibly have heard her, but a few moments later he lowered his camera. Nancy quickly snapped a picture and looked at it on the display screen. And liked what she saw. He was leading-man handsome: strong jaw, keen eyes, sculpted cheekbones. He had the rugged physique of a superhero, with all the sly bearing of a supervillain. Although the only thing he was stalking was zebras, there was nonetheless something roguish in his manner as he crept closer.

He raised the camera again and Nancy watched him through her own, thanking Nikon all the while for making such great lenses. She could see every detail of her fellow shooter. His hands looked strong and sure as they gripped the camera, steady enough to zoom in close without needing a tripod. She also smiled to note that there was no wedding ring.

Nancy saw the lens retract as he zoomed out, widening the frame. Then he stopped. He raised his head for a moment, then lowered it back to the camera. And angled it right towards her.

A little rush of delight ran down her spine and she hurriedly hid behind her own camera, watching him watching her. At first all she could see was the convex curve of his lens and a distorted reflection of colours. His right index finger gently pressed the shutter button and she swallowed hard, feeling exposed, captured. Behind the camera he was smiling. Clearly, he liked what he was seeing every bit as much as she did.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do until she did it. She set the camera down and made a big show of stretching, as though waking up from a nap. Kneeling in the grass, she began slowing unbuttoning her shirt. As she did, she fancied she could hear the rapid click of her watcher’s camera as he snapped away. She stilled the tremor in her fingers as she fumbled with the buttons, finally exposing the tight khaki tank top she wore beneath in lieu of a bra. Although the air was warm, her nipples stiffened, standing out like pebbles through the thin fabric. She blushed a little and smiled to herself as she picked up her camera again and focused it on the man.

He hesitated only a moment before lowering his camera. His eyes shone with mischief and his sensual mouth curled in a smile to match hers. God, he was gorgeous! He copied her movements, unfastening his shirt, one slow button at a time, teasing her. Only he was bare-chested beneath his. Her breath caught at the sight of his lean, sculpted torso and she almost forgot to take pictures.

Her heart began to race as he raised the camera again. No signal was needed, no gesture. It was her turn now.

Nancy reminded herself that she wasn’t a vague shape behind a window shade or a distant figure on a stage. She was as vivid and detailed through the powerful zoom lens as if she were standing right in front of him. With that in mind, she banished any self-consciousness and arranged her features into a sultry, come-hither look. Then she unfastened her shorts and drew them slowly down her long, toned legs. She’d worn her favourite black knickers, the ones with the scalloped lacy edge that framed her bottom so appealingly, and she hoped he was pleased with the effect.

She half-stood as she stepped out of her shorts. Seeing the movement, the zebra looked her way for a moment before dipping his head again. She giggled. The poor, innocent creature had no idea what the rude humans around him were getting up to. Just as the barebacked horse in Mexico would never know how he had contributed to her best holiday ever.

When she looked through the camera again, her companion put his hands together in silent applause at her little performance. Then, with slow deliberation, he kicked off his shoes. He stood there for a few moments, leaving her to wonder if that was all he was going to do, or if he would continue. Then he smiled and began to unbuckle his belt. Her heart raced. He unzipped his trousers next, casting the occasional glance in her direction. He slid them down and she clicked away at the slow reveal of his well-muscled thighs and runner’s calves. He looked like he spent a lot of time in the sun and it wasn’t hard to imagine him lounging on a beach with her or emerging James Bond-like from the waves.

But, while his legs were gorgeous, it was what was above them that Nancy was most interested in. He was in black as well, something designer and fitted that showed off the growing bulge. She felt herself grow damp and she pressed her legs together.

It was her turn again. And this time there were no more layers. She remained on her knees and swallowed hard as she took hold of the hem of her tank top and gradually pulled it up, treating him to a slow reveal of her slim waist, her ribcage, and finally her bare breasts. She kept her arms overhead for a moment, tangling her hands in the scrap of material as if she were tied up. The idea made her dizzy with desire and she closed her eyes, envisioning his strong hands clamping down on her delicate wrists, his warm body pressing down on hers. She did a little dance, gyrating her hips and writhing.

When she opened her eyes again, he had moved closer. Perhaps he had been inching nearer and nearer all the while because she realised she didn’t need the zoom lens any more to make out his features. Xavier had nothing on this man.

His eyes locked on hers with a fierce intensity as he freed his erection. The sight of it made her sex pulse so hard it was almost painful. She gave a little sigh of need and sank to her knees in the grass as he crossed the remaining distance to her.

When he finally stood over her, peering down, she felt her hands flutter to the waistband of her knickers, almost as though he had willed them there. But he stopped her. He crouched down beside her and gently pushed her hands aside. Then he took hold of the material himself and tugged them down firmly over her bottom.

She gasped, a wave of heat flooding her face. She squeezed her thighs together as her heart throbbed and blood pounded in her ears. For a moment she thought she might actually faint.

He guided her forward, positioning her on all fours. Grateful not to have to meet his eyes for the moment, Nancy lowered her head, losing herself in the submissive posture.

Her knickers were bunched around her knees, making her feel even more exposed than if they’d been removed entirely. She wondered if he could see how wet she was. The cool air caressed her sex and made the tiny hairs stand up all over her body.

When she felt his hand in the small of her back, she trembled. He pushed her – gently, firmly, making her arch her back and push her bottom up. She obeyed the unspoken command, surrendering to the moment and his quiet authority, blushing to the roots of her hair at the thought of how open, exposed and available she was. How completely his she was.

Then he hit her. She gasped as the flat of his hand came down sharply on her left cheek. She froze, shocked and aroused at the same time. The sting faded to a pleasant warmth that surged through her skin, instantly making her hungry for more. She wriggled a little, inviting him. He obliged with another swat to her right cheek, spreading the stinging warmth through her entire bottom.

But he didn’t stop there. With a firm, steady rhythm he delivered a series of alternating smacks. First one cheek, then the other. Nancy yelped and whimpered with each one, but he grasped her around the waist and held her still. When she tossed her head at a particularly smart swat, she noticed the zebra watching. The sight of it made her think of Mexico and the bareback moonlit ride that had wrung such an intense climax from her. She wondered if this man could do the same just by spanking her. She blushed deeply at the mere thought of him trying.

He had adjusted the position of his hand, lowered it just enough to strike the little delta where her bottom met her thighs, just where she was wet and inviting. Each smack sent vibrations through her sex, awakening all her nerve endings. If he carried on he would definitely make her come. She wanted him to. She wanted him to do anything to her. Everything.

Don’t stop, she urged him silently. Whatever you do, whatever you want to do … just don’t stop!

He seemed to sense he could get her off just by smacking her. Unless it was obvious from the way she was writhing in his grasp, responding to his masterful touch. He stroked her punished flesh, the warmth of his hand intensifying the warmth in her bottom. Not daring to break the spell with actual words, she moaned, a strangled little sound that unequivocally begged him for more. He traced the line of her spine with his fingers before resting his hand once more on her bottom. She braced herself for another onslaught, but that wasn’t what he had in mind. His touch was gentle now as he slid his hand down to where she wanted attention most of all. She didn’t care how shamelessly wet she was; she just wanted him inside her.

But he seemed determined to make her wait. He drew his fingers tantalisingly over her nether lips only to move away again, eliciting a little cry of dismay from her. His hands encircled her ribs, finding her breasts. He cupped them softly, fingers sliding back and forth across her nipples. His touch sent hot little pulses through her body like electric shocks. They went all the way to her sex, inflaming the sensitive bundles of nerves down there. Her skin felt alive, every pore hungry for sensation.

When at last she felt his fingers against her sex, she pressed back against him. Asking, demanding. He laughed softly and slid them along the dewy slit, teasing her open like a flower. She angled her legs apart and arched her back more, offering herself to him. With her body, she begged him to take her, to throw her down in the grass and fuck her like an animal. Her body was aching for it.