The Pleasure Seekers Read Free Page A

floor to spread them wide apart on the edge of the mattress. With deft fingers he searched out those most intimate of lips and sucked on them, nibbled at them, licked them as nobly as she was tending to him. He found her small, ever so sensitive bud, the clitoris, that can deliver as strong and pleasurable an orgasm as exquisite penetration. He excited it and was rewarded with a taste of honey as she came on his tongue.
    He immediately slid off her body to stand at the foot of the bed between her legs. Laurence gazed at her for one brief moment before he raised her legs and none too gently pulled her bottom up off the bed. He held her that way by the waist and in one forceful thrust sank himself as far as he could into D’Arcy.
    To be penetrated by a man at the right moment in the right way was for D’Arcy one of the great joys of life. She had not moved since the moment Laurence had pushedher down on the bed. Now she closed her eyes and raised her arms as if to heaven and called out in a voice filled with passion and that special moan that comes only with sexual ecstasy: ‘Oh, yes, yes! Laurence, it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.’
    She came and came again. Her orgasms drove him wild, they always did. The more she came and the stronger her orgasms, the more out of control she was in her submission to him, the better the sex was for him. He gave in to his own lust; he was ready now to deal with sexual depravity, all things carnal. Until D’Arcy such desire had only been possible in his fantasies. He penetrated her again and again in that position then changing his rhythm, the pattern of his thrusts, rolled her over on to her knees and took her from behind. The excitement of being riven again and again in these two positions was sublime for D’Arcy, and the thrill of sex with her like this no less so for Laurence. Then the moment arrived for them. They came together in an explosion of lust which they rode out on for a few seconds into oblivion. He had been right when he had told her: ‘And so it begins.’ For indeed that was only the beginning of sex for them that morning.
    The post and the newspapers arrived by boat – how often was dependent on the weather, the boatman and what else he had to carry to Livakia, if indeed he felt like making the trip down the coast at all. The delivery was the first highlight of the day for D’Arcy and every resident of Livakia. Like everything here it was a casual arrangement, though since it was the boatman’slivelihood and he lived in Livakia, the post at least was more or less reliable.
    The port was where the Livakians did all their living when they weren’t in their own houses; there, and in the narrow streets off the port, climbing up the side of the amphitheatre-like hill. There was a well-stocked grocer’s shop, Mr Katzakis’s, selling the best of the Cretan cheeses and honeys and olives, all sorts of foodstuffs native to the island and Greece. It smelled strongly of rosemary, lemons and Retsina. Amid the open bags of beans and flour, barrels and kegs and shelves of tinned goods, were upturned boxes where you could sit down and drink Retsina run off from a barrel into old-fashioned copper measure cups, smacked down on the makeshift tables with chunky, stubby glasses.
    It was always cool, dark and relaxing when one stepped out of the sun and into Katzakis’s emporium. You could read the paper or your post, having picked it up at the post office, drink a glass of Retsina so strong it could strip the paint off walls while nibbling at slivers of cheese, slices of salami, a dish of black olives. You had to bring your own bread. There you could pass the time of day with whoever else was in the shop and catch up with the latest news coming in from the boat people who arrived daily with the deliveries.
    If there was a catch there was fish for sale off the boats, and bread and cakes from the baker who also, for fifty pence, would put your roast in his oven. That was another