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Silence In The Cellar - eBook

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Silence In The Cellar by Lizbeth Dusseau

“In summer, Bella’s inn by the lake vibrates with the carnality of a whorehouse in any season.”

The young widow, Bella Fauré, wants only to run her beloved Inn and enjoy the men she entertains on the side. Her favorite lover, Daniel, listens to her sexual tales and takes notes for an erotic novel of her stories. But there’s a dark side to Bella’s life and a reckless past. Her husband's brother Claude still retains a hold on the lovely submission, one that she cannot easily shake, and time and time again, she plummets into his world in order to satisfy his recurring need. Though she despises the man, she is driven by a body that enjoys the extremes of lust he offers. Claude takes in cellars, attics and the boathouse by the lake, with whips and bondage and other tortures that leave her breathless.

Her sex life overwhelms the imagination. But can she finally cut the ties with Claude? And what of Daniel's role. A novel brimming with tender sensuality. Includes S&M, D/s, female bisexuality, spanking and multiple partners.


As Bella moves toward the old boathouse, her bare feet dancing in the cool wet grass, she darts behind trees, out of sight of the inn that rises as a gracious monolith of elegance and Victorian overstatement. The white clapboard requires endless painting to maintain its stark image of cleanliness and purity. She must be pure as well to keep a well-heeled clientele returning all seasons of the year. It has taken some adroit maneuvering to accommodate her intense sexual requirements and keep a guise of decency about the inn. It is her child, her life, the foundation of who she is. She would be lost without its comforting arms just as the inn would be lost without Bella’s constant nurturing. Always balance, she says to herself, on those nights when her loins go wanting for a lover to soothe her aches. Perhaps that’s why she found Zoë—or more aptly put, Zoë found her. Their affair is much more discreet than any entanglement with a man.
Though tonight she won’t go without the promised erection between her legs. She imagines now its fullness, Daniel’s dick slightly arched, massaging her on those sensitive tiny pillows of flesh inside her vagina that respond to the feel of his firm head battering them gently as he moves within the moist channel. Moist? Hardly, she’s already dripping and sticky.
Knowing there is no one to see her now, she lifts the sundress over her head, letting it trail in her hand as she takes the remainder of her journey in the nude, being careful not to run splinters into the soles of her bare feet as she steps onto the aging boardwalk. Beyond the squeaky door, she’s fully aroused, almost quaking as she makes her way to the bed where Daniel Bogart sits pulling off his shoes. It’s been nearly two months since she had the comfort of a man’s powerful thighs and a bold rod to calm her.
“I thought you’d be naked by now,” she murmurs to him unhappily, as she presses him back against the new poplin comforter and finishes removing his shoes.
“Anxious, are we?” he grins. He’s lit the hurricane lamp to create a mood of romantic adventure. Their flesh will dance in the glowing shadows just as the flame dances inside the glass.
She’s at his waist, her hands opening the buckle of his belt, fingers working fast with the button and zipper of his pants. She tugs eagerly to remove the khakis. Uncharacteristic of her explicit sense of order, she opts to act on her primal need; and as though obsessed, she tosses the pants to the floor in a heap, then moves quickly for the cock encased in Daniel’s briefs.
He has a lean torso, powerful shoulders from playing ball, but a little flesh on his bones from beer and hot-dogs. He’s not a twenty year old buck, but a seasoned thirty-four years, with flecks of premature grey in his tawny colored hair. His pale brown eyes are practically closed, drowsy with lust.
Daniel lies back groaning softly as his cock springs free like a birthday present opened to the surprise and satisfaction of the birthday girl. Bella smiles just before her lips cover the small, circumcised head. First running her tongue on the rim, she then dabbles her way along the surface tasting a bit of salty urine. Breathing deeply of his buoyant musk, that dark mystery of masculine earth and heat tickles her nose and inspires a trek deeper into his fragrant groin. She has one hand on the shaft, but ignores it now—except for an occasional jerk. She tongues her way down its girth to the base where his balls jiggle merrily. Burying her face in the sac, she breathes again, the aroma of Daniel stronger still—of sweat and pheromones. She licks the scrotum and then opens wide to take a nut inside her mouth and whirl it about with her tongue—teeth gently grabbing, but only in play.
Daniel pants anxiously, hips moving back and forth on the bed as he presses himself into her face. Her second hand moves beneath the balls, fingers flattening in that spot just before she reaches his rear door, where to massage it makes his penis stiffen urgently, throbbing almost meanly in her hand. He wants her mouth or cunt or her ass, any orifice would work as long as it’s tight and able to milk the brew that’s about to shoot from his rod. She starts with her mouth, giving him the impression she’ll end him there. She lets his cock slide down her throat until she’s about to choke, but then draws back, squeezing with a powerful sucking force. He’s about to ejaculate when she backs off altogether and pulls up on the bed to straddle his hips. This is Bella’s favorite ploy. She says the greater the buildup, the greater the pleasure, the greater the end—if you want to touch that nowhereland of body and soul, you take yourself to satiation, not mere coming. He’s hardly going to disagree.
Nestled in Bella’s vagina, Daniel grabs her hips while she rides his cock. She lifts herself above him on the strength of her arms, so her round breasts droop as small but plentiful offerings for his mouth to taste. When he buries his teeth into the tiny brown nipples, her cunt muscles tighten on his prick and they both begin to spasm.
“Ahhhhhhhh, Daniel ….”
Ah, Bella, he thinks though he can’t speak. No words, not now, his mouth is much too occupied with her skin. There’s a delicate layer of perspiration looking like glistening satin in the light of the flickering hurricane glass. She smells of tea roses, and he remembers how once he watched her masturbate with roses pricking her skin, petals fondling the small tuft of hair between her crotch. She took several blossoms and pressed their fragrance into her breasts. Pinching her nipples with those petals, the aroma would seep into her skin. Nothing smelled quite so lovely. Now, he drinks the brew of her taste, smells the aroma, and a heady lust joins his more animal and artless passion, building to the end. She cries, whimpers really, mewing nonsense sounds. She’s about to climax. He feels it in the way she squeezes down on his dick. He knows her well: the moods, the body waves, the beginning, middle and end of her orgasm. Almost there, he speeds the process, forcing them to a brisk finish.
The exhilaration makes them frenzied.
She’s crying in sharp panting breaths, as he groans his exclamation, “Gawwd, yesss.”
Bella’s on her own to climax while he’s engaged in spewing his seed in her grabbing cunt. She hangs on to his dick like she’ll never let go, her belly burning with heat. Finally, dropping to his chest, her ass bobs softly as the orgasm pulses through her clenching groin. For a time, Daniel’s cock remains erect, throbbing in her vagina loosely until it finally dwindles.
Pulling off of him, she drops away, breathing in exhausted sighs.
“Ah! This night is damn hot,” she’s the first to speak.
“And you were horny,” he said.

Artist Credit

© stryjek - Fotolia.com

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