The Great Escape Chapter 15, Part 1 of 11

The Great Escape
Chapter 15, Part 1 of 11

Danielle Goldrick and Roger Harcourt were married in a short formal ceremony at the Goldrick family estate on the coast about twenty miles north of Perth, Australia.

Sixty doting family members and close friends watched the couple make their vows under a white canopy on a hill, with a view of the blue-green ocean crisscrossed by white-tipped waves. It was a fabulous June day. An east wind brought the smell of the sea and lightly fluttered the ladies' dresses, but it was more of a relief than a nuisance.

The groom was traditionally nervous in his top hat and morning coat. The bride was radiant and beautiful in a white and cream wedding dress with gold cross-stitching, hundreds of years out-of-date but timeless and perfect.

The wedding party returned to a marquee on the lawn for dinner and embarrassing speeches.

It was mostly embarrassing. Roger's speech touched on a solemn note when he remembered Danielle's brother, Ezra, who was necessarily absent. They drank to his health and the hope of a safe return.

After the speeches, a string band played waltzes and the racier numbers of the Nineteenth Century so that those guests would not be too replete from a sumptuous dinner to dance. Still in her wedding dress, the bride stood up with her new husband, her father-in-law, and her father. Then she changed into a red party frock and danced with all her other male relatives, her husband's relatives, even the best man. She loved dancing and returned to claim her husband for the rest of the night by eight o'clock with the party in full swing.

Although Roger didn't dance well, he knew how to hold his wife and sway in rhythm. Danielle had always meant to correct this significant failing but never seemed to have the time: now, she had the rest of their lives together to teach him to dance correctly.

Content to hold him around the neck and gaze adoringly up at his face, Danielle let the tingling excitement and unexpected butterflies of the day gently drift away. She rejoiced that it went so well - not that she expected anything else, with her mother in charge.

Mariotta Goldrick, the famed society beauty and perfect hostess, was a vision in a powder-blue dress and white stilettos. She ensured no guest lacked food, conversation, or a dancing partner. She supplied her parents and older relatives with brandy and charmed two grandnephews away from the bar and onto the dance floor to escort Roger's younger sisters.

Finally, she turned her attention to the bride and groom.

"Come on, you two," she commanded. "Eight o'clock: time for bed. Off you go."

"We're happy here, Mum," Danielle said, gazing up at Roger.

"You'll be even happier in bed. Go on. And stay there! I don't want to see either of you for three days. You can come out tomorrow afternoon to say goodbye to everyone," she graciously allowed.

"Well, fresh new husband," Danielle said, "will you stand up to your mother-in-law?"

"I don't think I dare, Darling. Your mother's very intimidating."

"Nonsense, Roger," Mariotta insisted. "I'm a lamb. Everyone knows that. And, if my daughter can walk straight or sit comfortably, I'll send you back to do it to her again properly."

Just then, Nathan Goldrick arrived with a glass of champagne for his wife.

"My love," he said, "I'm sure the young people can arrange their bedroom matters for themselves."

"Bedroom matters, forsooth! My dear husband, you weren't always such a prude. Children,
shall I tell you what my Lord and Master did to me on the day we met?"

"Oh, Mother!" Danielle exclaimed as the seasoned diplomat himself kept a diplomatic silence.

"All right," Mariotta said with determination. "I'll whisper it to my handsome new son-in-law."

She did so.

"That was not very diplomatic behavior, Sir!" Roger said, sounding shocked.

"My dear boy," Nathan replied, "I have no idea what my flighty wife told you: she changes her stories every time she tells them. However, if you are minded in taking Mariotta's advice, I will congratulate you for the final time and wish you both an excellent night."

He kissed his daughter on the forehead and shook hands with Roger.

It seemed a good idea to start their rounds of thanks and goodnights. With Mariotta in charge, however, the valedictions were short. She bustled the lovers quickly and efficiently to the secluded lodge house, a five-minute walk from the main house, where they spent their wedding night.

"You'll find everything you need indoors, and I'll have food and fresh linen delivered to the pantry."

"Oh, Mum!"

But Mariotta was serious. She kissed their cheeks and whispered a final instruction to Roger, then pushed them inside and shut the door, regretting she couldn't lock it from the outside.

In the bedroom, the newlyweds took off their shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, holding hands, breathing quickly, taking in reality.

"We did it!" Roger said.

"We surely did. You composed yourself very well, husband."

"As did you, wife. You were beautiful, radiant, perfect."

"You were pretty handsome, tuckered up like a grey penguin."

He pulled her to him, and they kissed. She climbed onto his lap.

"What scandalous story did my mother tell you?" Danielle asked.

"Are you sure you want to know? Some children never recover from learning that their parents had sex."

"I think I can take it, though spare me the grisly details if there are any."

He told her.

"Ooh! Ooh," she pushed herself away. "Grisly details!"

"Sorry, Darling. I'll spare you the rest."

She settled back into his lap.

"I've been meaning to ask this for ages," he said. "How come your father is such a successful diplomat when his wife is so deliciously indiscreet?"

"Ha! Do you think there's a contradiction? Dad's successful because Mum's so indiscreet. It's all an act: she reveals some trivial secret to put people at their ease and make them want to be less guarded in return."

"Very clever. It helps him, and the diplomacy game is still heavily skewed toward men, and most men fall instantly in love with Mariotta.

"Yes, that helps. It's the irresistibility gene: all the Goldrick women have it."

"I knew you had some power over me. I thought it was drugs."

"Drugs are unreliable: the irresistibility gene is more certain."

"Certain enough to keep us confined to this bedroom for three days, per your mother's orders?"

"Well, we can try, though I don't think she can stop us going for a walk outside."

"Mariotta's last piece of advice to me catered for that."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She said that if you wanted to leave, I should tie you to the bed."

"Ooh! Well, go on then."

"Maybe I will, though you don't want to leave yet, do you?"

She immediately got up and walked to the door. He jumped up to catch and hold her, but she struggled, laughing, inching toward the door. He lifted her and placed her back on the bed.

She leaped up again and ran for the door. He grabbed her again and, this time, as she struggled in his arms, he plonked her on the bed and lay on her, trapping her under him.

"Now stay put," he ordered. "Didn't you just vow to obey me?"

"Certainly not! I vowed to laugh at your jokes, even when they're not funny, and to fake an orgasm every so often to keep you happy. I never said obey'."

"Not funny? When are my jokes not funny?"

She laughed and pulled him down to kiss him.

Getting into it, she turned them over to go on top and used his body to push herself up; then she sprinted for the door a third time, though slow enough to give him a good chance to catch her.

"All right," he said, his arms around her waist, pulling her back to the bed. "Mariotta's rules!"

She lay on her front on the bed, laughing hard. He knelt over her, searching for something to restrain her with. He decided on a pillowcase and shook out its pillow, grabbed her arms, and knotted her wrists together. With another pillowcase, he tied her ankles. Then he pushed her onto her side in the middle of the bed.

"Stay there, wife, while I find something better to tie you up."

She looked at him, saying nothing, her eyes shining, an expectant, hungry smile on her lips.

He pushed her blonde hair from her cheek and kissed her, then slapped her bottom. "Ooh!" she exclaimed. He went to the drawers and cupboards for a large soft blanket, which he took to the kitchen. With a pair of scissors, he cut the blanket into strips.

It was a complex procedure, keeping Danielle still while undressing her, removing the restraints, and tying her up properly. Of course, she struggled, laughing and squirming, even trying to bite, giving him just enough trouble to want to gag and blindfold her.

Finally, he got her in the position he wanted, spread-eagle on the bed, naked except for her white stockings and suspender belt, her wrists and ankles tied to the corner posts, her bra loosened and pulled down her chest, releasing her big juicy tits with the pert toothsome pink nipples.

He left her there, breathing quickly, anticipating, loving her wedding night. Usually so independent, so much in control, she relished giving up power to her new husband, longing for him to take possession. The soft blanket strip covering her eyes, another strip gagging her mouth, made her concentrate on her predicament. She took shallow breaths and tried not to relax.

Roger stripped and lay on her. He started on her neck, kissing, flicking her throat with his tongue, taking small nibbles, working down to her shoulders. She enjoyed it too much to put up any resistance at first, but she began squirming again, just for show. She was already aroused and starting to ache for his cock in her.

He got to her tits. She loved it when he adored her nipples, which had just the proper sensitivity to be a big turn-on when he sucked and nibbled but not enough to give her pain or want him to stop. The sensation went straight to her pussy, where the tap opened. She arched her back and held her breath.

He didn't leave her breasts until they had been adequately worked over, sucked, and licked in all the right places: the sensitive underside between ribs and nipples; the valley between; and the large pink nipples themselves, hard and aching to be squeezed and sucked. He left tooth marks.

Then he kissed down her belly to her thighs. Slowly and gently, he rolled her stockings down to her ankles, kissing the bare flesh as it was revealed.

He went as slowly as he could to tease and frustrate her, finally reaching her wet pussy, where he languished for an hour, loving her with his tongue.

Danielle bucked and moaned. Her muffled note rose and fell as the warm and nervy tingling spread about her body, sometimes tense, sometimes intense, always a kind of fizzing joy that numbed her mind as she rose in her dark, self-contained world to a series of pretty little orgasms. She shook and gasped as Roger sucked on her clit and lashed it with his tongue.

He licked the alphabet on her pussy, then - showing off as a historian - licked the Greek, Cyrillic, and Hebrew alphabets as well. She moaned sweetly and came many times, biting on her gag, her juices wetting his chin. Finally, it was his turn.

He stripped off the last of his clothes, lay on her, pulled off her gag, and pressed his mouth on hers. She sucked his tongue into her mouth as he stuffed his stiff cock into her. She hummed her approval as he began ramming her. But it was six weeks since they'd had sex, and he couldn't last long. After a dozen hard strokes, he felt the liquid sensation, then the urgent, almost painful joy at the head of his cock, and finally the relieving spasm as he spurted his seed deep inside her.

He grunted and lay heavily on her as the ecstatic feeling ebbed away.

Still, in her dark world, eyes tight shut under the blindfold, Danielle felt content and satisfied.

She clung on to him when he undid her bonds, unwilling to let him go, hanging around his neck. He carried her to the shower, which they used together, drying off with a hot air blast; then he brought her back to the bed. They lay together, resting, glowing, laughing a little.

"You know, husband, I thought married sex was supposed to be boring and Samey."

"I'm sorry. I promise to be more boring next time."

"Don't you dare! So, when is 'next time'?"

"Soon, I need to recover."

"I'm ready now. Come on, Roger, making a lady wait is not polite."

She climbed on him and began kissing his chest. He quickly began to recover and ran a hand through her hair.

"Tie me up again, please?" she said.

"As my lady desires."

He tied her wrists together behind her back and helped her to kneel beside the bed. He put the blindfold back on but left off the gag.

"Open up," he said.

She obediently opened her mouth, eager to be commanded. He pushed his cock into her mouth, and she sucked it with relish until it was hard again.

Restrained, controlled, and vulnerable though she was, while Danielle had his cock in her mouth, she felt she was the one with the power, the power to give him heavenly pleasure and make him groan.

Fully hard, he withdrew and helped her stand. He gagged her again and guided her forward onto the bed, kneeling with her ass up, her knees spread, her face in a pillow. He spanked her round buttocks a few times, which kept her in her subjugated mood, then he knelt behind and pressed his cock against her wet and ready slit.

She moaned sweetly as he pushed his cock in and began thrusting. He held her hips, and she did what she could without the use of her arms to buck against him.

He thrust slowly with long strokes, pulling out and ramming back in. She moaned loudly despite the gag, loving the friction. After a while, he began to go faster. Her moans rose in pitch and were interspersed with gasps as she sucked air in past her gag.

Grabbing a breast in one hand and tugging her head back by her hair, he rammed her harder, bringing her to the edge of a climax. She arched her back and moaned sweetly.

He reached around and rubbed his fingers sideways over her clit. She tipped over the edge, crying out with joy. Climaxing hard, Danielle felt waves of pleasure flow upward through her belly to her breasts and throat and downward to her thighs. More orgasms quickly engulfed her senses as her back hunched and relaxed. Her thighs shook, and she felt the tension in her toes. Her body rocked with spasms of pleasure.

Swept away by her sexual response, Roger could no longer hold off his release. Her convulsions drew out his orgasm. He held her tightly around the waist as he spurted his load deeply into her wet cleft.

After he'd untied her, she rolled over and laid on him. He held her tightly, stroking her back.

They shared that delicious moment of coming down together from a mutual high, breath returning to normal, heart-beat slowing, heat suffusing. They rested some time, then Danielle
said:

"Ready to go again?"

"You're kidding?"

"Not brave enough for me?"


To be continued