Black Knight's Will Ch. 1

Rachel Fortescue was 55 and Personal Assistant to Sir Gregory Wilkinson-Smyth, a top-flight Whitehall civil servant with great influence and responsibility. She enjoyed her job and the status it gave her, she’d been his PA for over 15 years and had never married nor had children. Well in her day having children without marriage was unthinkable and there is no way she would have disgraced her family. No, that definitely would not have done at all!

Daddy had worked in the Foreign Office and Mummy had stayed at home to raise her and her younger brother. In fact, the only engagements her mother had undertaken were charity ones and lunches with her friends. In essence, Rachel was a well brought up middle class gel.

Rachel looked in the mirror over the washbasin, it was 5 pm on a Wednesday evening, work was over for another day, Sir Gregory had spent the hour or so after his highly liquid lunch at The House of Commons snoozing quietly in the armchair in his large well appointed office in Whitehall. Rachel on the other hand had spent the entire time catching up on typing and fending off phone calls so that Sir Gregory could sleep. She was feeling rather frazzled and tired and just wanted to get home to her nice little flat in Chiswick and have an early night.

Snapping the powder compact shut, she looked at herself with pride, She looked rather good for her age, Her well cut, expensive navy pinstripe suit, fitted perfectly and showed off her slim figure, hinting at the fullness of her breasts and flatness of her stomach, the skirt length, just below her calves, accentuating her slim ankles and hinted at shapely legs. A Hermes scarf was draped around her neck and a single string of real pearls could just be seen peeping out from behind it.

Her dark, shiny bobbed hair suited her well and her understated, classy makeup made her look naturally attractive. “Well done, old girl, you’re looking good for your age.” She said in her distinctive clipped Home Counties voice. She smiled at herself in the mirror, picked up her handbag and left the ladies room to make her way to the tube station.

She took the lift down to the ground floor, saying goodnight to several colleagues on her way out past the security guard, who as usual nodded in deference to her as she left. “Night Miss Fortescue” he called after her. After all, she was PA to one of the most important men in Whitehall and should be treated with respect. She waved her hand absently in acknowledgement as her expensive Bally court shoes tap tapped over the tiles as she made her way out of the imposing building and turned left to go to Westminster station.

Making her way down the station steps in the rush hour, she arrived at the platform just as a train was about to depart; she dashed the last few feet just as the train doors were closing. A large black hand held back the door for her as her slim figure slipped inside the carriage.

Looking up, she saw her helper properly for the first time. He was at least 6 feet, in contrast to her 5 ft 5. Broad shouldered, with clear, glistening chocolate coloured skin. As he looked down at her and smiled, she saw the 2 small gold earrings glinting in his left ear and a small diamond mounted on one of his front teeth. He looked like some kind of body builder she thought, as she looked up and smiled her thanks. She could see the width of his shoulders under the thin material of his shirt and found herself getting wet at the thought.

“Don’t be stupid!” She said to herself “He can’t be more than 22, you’re old enough to be his mother, if not his Gran.” She looked hastily away, trying to gather her composure. All the time she was aware of his hard body next to hers, she felt the dampness spreading in her sensible Marks and Spencer’s knickers and her large nipples stiffen in her serviceable brassiere.

Covering her confusion, Rachel scrabbled in her handbag, pretending to need a tissue, She could feel his body pressed close to hers; there was no room even to breathe in the crowded cattle trucks of a rush hour tube. Her shaking hands trembled even more under his scrutiny, he watched her openly, amusement glinting in his eyes. His hands brushed against hers as he steadied the bag for her to rummage. Rachel blushed as she again smiled my thanks,

She could feel beads of perspiration glistening on her top lip; the squelchyness of her pussy was becoming unbearable. She shook as she dabbed the tissue across her top lip. She started as she felt his hand rest on her waist, stroking her gently with his fingers, small almost imperceptible movements which sent huge shocks through her already straining body.

She hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. They stood there, swaying gently with the motion of the carriage, neither speaking. Rachel had no option but to stay close to her black knight, but even if she could move away, her body was screaming for her to stay close. She pressed her thighs together in a vain attempt to quell the dampness and need that grew so rapidly within her.

She jumped violently as she felt the doors open behind her. “This station is St James’ Park,” intoned the mechanical sounding announcement. She felt the black knight’s hand gather her towards him as people pushed past to alight and to get on the train. As usual there was a fair amount of pushing and shoving and each movement thrust them together. Rachel felt each touch a million fold. It was as if somebody had slipeed her a drug to make her feel more acutely.

She was now pinned up against the door, her back towards it, with the cause of her consternation standing directly in front of her. She knew that when they got to the next station, she could just step back onto the platform, walk away and never see him again. Victoria station came and went. He watched her quizzically, his hand still on her waist. He held her captive with just his gaze.

As the doors opened at Sloan Square station, he moved his hand to her arm and led her from the train onto the platform, she followed meekly a mere step or so behind him. She had to hurry to keep up with him, as his stride was so long and confident. Up the stairs, through the ticket barriers and out onto the street.

No words had been spoken; it was as if she’d become attached to him via a steel rope. She HAD to follow him. They continued along the streets, the streetlights glistening in the puddles as they walked. It was only 5.30 a mere 30 minutes had passed since she had left her office, but now she was in a totally different world. A world she had not entered for a long, long time. Not since here fiancé had been killed in the Falklands conflict had she felt the desire burning in her loins as she did now. Her wetness permeated the material of her panties; she could feel droplets begin to gather on her lips, ready to begin the journey down her thighs.

Her black knight paused by the entrance to a small market; in the distance she could see the stalls, under cover for the night. He turned towards her and took her hand, leading her into the market compound. She smiled nervously up at him…. But followed all the same.

Rachel trod carefully through the debris of everyday market life. Discarded packaging and fruit and vegetables were strewn upon the floor. Once she nearly slipped and fell. He placed his arm around her waist to steady her. Leading her onwards towards the stall storage area.

When they reached the storage space, they hesitated, allowing their eyes to become accustomed to the gloom. He turned and kissed her hungrily, his tongue probing the depths of her mouth, playing with her tongue and teeth, his lips crushing hers. She returned his kiss, tentatively at first, then her hunger growing, matching his.

His arms wrapped around her waist, moved his hands massaging her bottom through her suit, pulling her towards him so she could feel his growing erection pressing upon the burning furnace of her womanhood. She twined her hands behind his head, responding to her stranger, like a bitch on heat.

His hands slipped inside her jacket, mauling her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples, feeling them spring to attention at his merest touch. He fumbled as he pulled her blouse out from her skirt and thrust his huge black hands inside her brassiere, the contrast between her milky white skin and his dark hands shone starkly in the shadows thrown by the streetlights in the distance.

Suddenly she felt a jerk and the sound of her blouse ripping…. In his hunger for her, he had no patience for buttons. She leant back to facilitate his attempt to remove her brassiere and his mouth fell swiftly to her still pert tits. She groaned as he chewed the large brown aureole, his hands busy unzipping her skirt, which fell to the floor, leaving her with just her jacket, her tattered blouse, panties and tights,

Suddenly he lifted her bodily and deposited her on the edge of a stall, she could feel the hardness of the wooden edge under her bottom. His mouth, still chewed at her breast as she looked down in awe at the muscles rippling under the thin material of his shirt. The feelings emanating from her tits, flooding her guts with a sexual fire she’d not felt for a long, long time. Rachel groaned.

He looked up and grinned at her, laughter in his eyes. He pushed her so she rested back on her arms, her body open before him. She followed the direction of his gaze… the wet patch between her thighs, as she licked her lips, wondering what he would do next.

He held her gaze for what seemed, to her, an eternity but was probably only 10 seconds, before his fingers tore the thin material of her tights, ripping a huge hole in the crotch. As he did so the unmistakable scent of woman on heat assailed his nostrils, which flared in appreciation.

Rachel gasped in surprise; his fingers pulled aside the material of her panties and slid along the grove of her sex. She groaned, her lips parted and she licked them nervously. Watching his fingers trace patterns up and down her snatch. He lifted his finger to his nose, sniffing deeply of her scent. He put his fingers to her nose to smell also, then to her mouth. She hesitated; he lifted one eyebrow sardonically, before forcing the finger into her mouth… Just for one millisecond did she hesitate before sucking avidly!

His left hand, twisted her nipple drawing gasps of lust from Rachel, his right hand gravitated back to her lightly downed pussy, again pulling her knickers aside, he slipped two fingers deep into her sopping hole, the pad of his thumb upon her clit, she moaned, thrusting her hips she urged herself onto him.

‘Hmmm so you like that do you? You little slut!’

Her eyes snapped wide open at the first sound of his voice, deep, chocolaty like his skin, cultured, refined. He smirked at her amazement.

‘Oh I see. After a bit of rough are we?

He jabbed his fingers deeper into her streaming puss.

‘Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yessssssssssssssss, yessssssssssssssss’

Gasped Rachel as she shuddered to her climax upon his fingers; her hands grasped his shoulders as she held on to stop herself falling from the barrow.

When she finally stopped shuddering he removed his hand from her pussy and held it to be shaken

‘How do you do, I’m James’ He said, a smile playing across his finely chiselled features. She took his hand and shook it ‘Rachel’ she said simply

James sat beside her on the barrow as she tried to tidy herself up. She removed the tights and her jacket and what remained of her blouse, hanging the jacket and skirt from a convenient nail on the side of the market stall. All the time James looked on appreciatively at the older woman, taking in the slimness of her waist and the wetness of her velvety pussy. When she finished she sat quietly beside him.

He reached down and pulled off his trousers, his huge black cock springing to attention once released from the confinement of his pants. Rachel gasped at the sight of his proud member, her hands naturally gravitating towards it, she licked the palm of her hand and rubbed it tenderly over the tip of his cock, cupping her hand as she did so.

‘Ah you little slut, you like my fucking big black cock don’t you?’

‘You want to play with it, and suck it don’t you, you little slut!’

Rachel’s eyes widened with lust as he spoke. He could tell from the way she handled his cock that she was inexperienced, but it felt good all the same.

He grabbed the back of her hair.

‘You’re gonna suck my big black cock till I spunk in your mouth, do you hear me?’

Her eye’s widened even more as she stared at him.

‘Do you hear me?’ He demanded. She nodded silently.

‘Answer me!’

‘Y..yes’ said Rachel.

‘Yes Master.’ Said James sternly; he shook Rachel’s head to emphasize the point.

‘Y..yes Master’ stuttered Rachel. ‘Good girl.’ James smiled, contentedly.

Using her hair to guide her, he moved her off the barrow and onto her knees between his legs. He watched amused as all shades of fear and embarrassment flashed across Rachel’s face. Finally, she licked her lips and took the tip into her wet mouth. James sighed

‘There you are you fucking little whore! Sucking cock like a pro now aren’t you? On your knees begging me to fuck you.’

Rachel’s eyes widened in lust, nobody had ever spoken to her like that before. She could feel her body responding. She could feel her nipples harden once more, the wetness of her cunt, dripping in anticipation, she groaned as she licked and suckled his throbbing member. James guided her hands to his balls and showed her how to fondle them to give him pleasure.

‘Fucking little cunt, whore; look at you! On your knees in the shit of a market sucking my dick. Look at all your fine clothes now you little slut!’

With that he slid the whole length of his meat into Rachel’s mouth, she gasped in surprise as it slid down her throat.

James grabbed the back of Rachel’s head and fucked her mouth, once, twice, three times before delivering his creamy load right at the back of her throat. James shuddered and jerked for almost a minute before collapsing backwards onto the barrow. Rachel carefully picked herself up and sat beside him, watching him as he floated on his little cloud of satisfaction.

He reached out and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply, tasting himself on her tongue. His hands roaming freely over her body, feeling her nipples taut with desire and the chill of the evening. He could feel her nervousness as she touched him.

‘How long since you’ve been with a man honey?’ He asked gently

‘Over 15 years.’ She said, smiling ruefully at the memory of her fiancé ‘He died in the Falklands’

‘Nobody since then?’ James looked surprised.

‘Nobody I’ve wanted to sleep with.’

James kissed her deeply, his hands roaming her body, touching her, lighting the fires of desire once more. He touched her pussy gently, stroking and teasing her till she was taut as a bowstring before dropping his face between her thighs and licking her from back to front in one sweeping motion, again and again, till she shouted incoherently with desire.

Moving up her body, he kissed her belly, her waist, her nipples, licked along her collarbone, before nuzzling behind her ear, all the time touching, teasing, and tempting her. As he moved up along her body, he pushed her back so she lay on the barrow, her legs braced against the uprights, his hand found a large parsnip laying on the edge of the barrow, obviously left over from the days trade.

James reared up and kneeled beside Rachel, the parsnip in his hand, he peeled back the petals of her pussy and slid the parsnip inside. Rachel started with shock at the cold, hard vegetable. James smiled his reassurance down and her, and moved so that he could watch the parsnip sliding in and out of her hot, wet cunt.

The creamy vegetable continued to slip inside her and James watched in silence as his cock began to rise again from the ashes of his spent desire. He started as Rachel spoke.

‘Fuck me; fuck me like the fuckslut I am. Use me as you see fit!’ Breathed Rachel.

‘Come on fuck me! I’m a fucking little slut.’ Louder this time

James looked at Rachel, lust in his eyes, the parsnip was pumping harder in and out of Rachel’s snatch as he dropped his mouth to suck at her clit.

Rachel groaned ‘Oh yes, yes, what a slut I am, a little cunt, a bitch.’ Louder then ever this time, obviously enjoying the effect that the words had on them both.

James threw the parsnip to one side and slid his cock into the sheath of Rachel’s hot wet pussy. Despite the fact she was so fucking wet, she was so, so tight, like a virgin James knew he couldn’t hold out for long not with the tightness and wetness of Rachel’s pussy.

‘Take it, take all you little cunt.’ Shouted James as he pumped his wad into her

Rachel groaned and held him tightly to her as the spasms receded.

A few minutes later, James levered himself from on top of Rachel, sweat glued their bodies together, kissing Rachel he said ‘I think we’d better get dressed before somebody finds us don’t’ you?’

In silence, they both dressed, Rachel discarding the blouse and tights, so badly torn earlier, luckily her suit covered her well enough. She brushed her hair and tidied herself as best she could in the circumstances. The smell of sex surrounded her like a cloud of perfume.

‘I think we’d better get you a taxi don’t you…?’ said James kindly.

Rachel nodded in agreement and they strolled out of the market hand in hand. It took several minutes to find a black cab and James climbed in alongside her for the ride to her flat. They chatted amiably throughout the journey about this and that, discovering similar tastes in books and so on.

When they got to Rachel’s flat, James waved aside the money she offered for the fare and asked for her phone number. Pocketing the number the black cab drove off as Rachel stood on the steps and wondered if she’d ever see her Black Knight again.

James sat inside the cab, fingering the paper with her number, before keying the number into his mobile phone.

At the same time the security guard who had been checking the monitors of the close circuit TV at the marketplace had just finished cleaning up after he had shot his wad…