Bertrice Small - Sudden Pleasures

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Ashley Kimbrough has everything a woman could want. Not only is she wealthy and successful, she has a more than satisfying sex life in The Channel, a secret network that allows women to live out their wildest fantasies. But if she doesn't find herself a husband she could be in danger of losing it all.
Then multi-millionaire Ryan Mulcahy enters Ashley's life. With that Celtic warrior's body and drop-dead gorgeous face, he makes her fantasies run wild. Although their marriage is one of convenience, Ashley is starting to wonder whether she can use everything she learned from The Channel on her unsuspecting husband.

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"Merry Christmas from Mr. and Mrs. Mulcahy," he said. "There'll be another envelope when you come to pick them up on the twenty-sixth. Drive carefully." Byrnes opened the front door and ushered the driver out.

To Ryan's surprise the evening went smoothly. They sat down to a supper of shrimp cocktail, followed by small plates of pasta with a simple marinara sauce, followed by Dover sole broiled in butter with lemon, a marvelous casserole of carrots made with cheese and cream, tiny potato puffs, and a green salad. Dessert was a plain caramel custard in individual cups topped with raspberries.

Angelina Mulcahy smiled, well pleased. Her new daughter-in-law, while not a Roman Catholic, had known that December twenty-fourth was a fast day, although she hardly thought the lovely feast placed before them would qualify as a fast. She noted that her daughters and their spouses were eating to the point of silence. "Is there a church we may attend tonight?" Lina asked Ashley.

"St. Anne's," Ashley told her. "Ryan can take five in his car, and Bill will take the rest in the limo I rented for the weekend. The mass begins at eleven. That's why we've eaten early. I thought you all might like a little nap before church."

"Will you be going with us?" Kathleen asked pointedly.

Ashley shook her head. "I'll be at St. Luke's. I'm an Anglican. I'm driving myself. And before you ask, I don't intend to convert to Roman Catholicism. If this were a perfect world there would be no differences in religion to divide us, but it isn't a perfect world, and I prefer my own church." She smiled at Ryan's family.

"Will you ever get married in the Church?" Bride wanted to know.

"Yes," Ashley said, but added nothing more.

"And your children? That is, if you have any," Elisabetta said. "How will you raise them, I'd like to know?"

"I'm sure you would." Ryan stepped into the conversation, which was beginning to lean toward confrontational. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now, girls, I think that is enough questions for tonight." He saw his eldest sister, Bride, smile just ever so slightly, and thought, My God, I think she's actually beginning to warm up.

At ten thirty the cars were ready, and they were transported to St. Anne's. Ashley honked and waved at them as she passed them by, pulling up at the pretty stone church across the street. Both churches let out at approximately the same time, and Ryan asked Frankie to drive his car home while he joined his wife. They led the way back to Kimbrough Hall. There they found whiskeyed eggnog and hot mulled cider, along with very thin slices of an almost black and extremely rich fruitcake awaiting them.

"This is fruitcake?" Angelina was surprised.

"It's how the Irish make it," Ashley told her mother-in-law. "It's my great-great-grandmother's recipe. It's one of the few things I actually make every year."

"It doesn't taste at all like those disgusting light fruitcake bricks we had to sell in Catholic school," Frankie noted. "Remember, we used to kid about using them to build a house." She laughed. "All those yucky candied cherries, and big pieces of nuts."

Everyone departed for bed. The tree in the living room was now surrounded by gifts, as each of the sisters had brought presents. Ashley walked through the house, smiling to herself. She had a really big surprise tomorrow for her husband. She stood for a moment in the living room, darkened now but for the dying fire in the fireplace. It was well after midnight, and there was absolute magic in the air. She could feel it. Going upstairs, she noted it was silent behind all the bedroom doors. She entered their bedroom suite to find Ryan standing naked, a large red bow about his very distended cock.

Ashley giggled. "You're kidding," she said.

"You don't like my present?" he said.

"I want to know how you got it that way without me," she replied.

He grinned. "I've got a talented hand and a great imagination."

"Well, I suppose I should try it on for size," she said as she began to pull off her turtleneck. "It looks like it might be a good fit, darling." She unfastened her lacy bra and tossed it aside. Then she kicked off the slippers she always wore in the house when she wasn't barefooted, unzipped her slacks, pulled them off, pulled down her silk briefs, and stepped out of them. She was quite naked now. Reaching out, she undid the bow adorning his long, thick penis, let it drop, and then, wrapping her hand about him, she led him into their bedroom.

Pushing him down on the bed, she climbed atop him, her butt toward his head, and, leaning down, captured his dick between her two full breasts, moving it up and down.

"Ohh, baby," he murmured as he hardened seriously. His hands reached out to squeeze her cute ass cheeks.

"You like?" she asked him. Her tongue snaked out to lick at the tip of his cock.

"Yesss!" he hissed. "Hike."

She took the tip of him between her lips and rotated her tongue about him. "Mmmm," she said. Then she bent lower and sucked him deep into her mouth and throat, but she was careful with him, because she didn't want him to come in her mouth this time. For a moment or more she sucked him, and then released him, gasping as she did when Ryan pushed a finger deep into her ass. "Ohh, my!" He had never done that before. She squeezed her butt cheeks together hard.

He chuckled and rotated the finger. "You like?" he parroted her query of a few moments before.

"I'm not sure," she admitted.

"We'll get a nice little dildo and play sometime. I think we should expand our horizons, don't you?" he said softly as he withdrew the single finger.

"Oh, God, am I boring you?" Ashley asked, turning around to face him.

"You will never bore me, baby," Ryan told her. Then he rolled her over and thrust himself into her wet pussy. "This is where I belong!"

Ashley wrapped herself around him and let him fuck her until she was weak with pleasure. He took her high, and she scratched and bit and screamed as he groaned and finally, as they climaxed together, shouted. Afterward she giggled as they lay together, replete and satisfied.

"Good thing we're way down the hall from everyone else," she said. "The harpies would sure as hell be jealous."

He chuckled. "Fuck 'em!" he said, and she laughed.

"That was your first Christmas gift," she told him.

"Yours too," he responded, pulling her into his arms, and then yanking the down quilt over them.

They fell asleep, waking several hours later to the smell of coffee in their sitting room. Byrnes had crept quietly in, as he did almost every morning, to bring it. Getting up, they pulled on robes and went out to find the tray decorated with a sprig of holly and containing a plate of cinnamon rolls and butter as well. They fell upon the food, realizing that their exertions several hours previous had given them an appetite.

"Can we open our presents?" Ryan asked boyishly, and she nodded.

Together, like two kids, they took turns pulling off Christmas paper and opening the boxes beneath their small tree. They had decided beforehand to limit their gifts to two each. Ashley's boxes contained a red cashmere turtleneck sweater and a beautiful gold chain, at the end of which was a ruby heart. It was the necklace that caused her to cry. She had gotten Ryan a beautiful antique gold and bejeweled miniature triptych she had found in Venice with Bianca's help, and a leather desk set for his new office. He was delighted with both.

"We hung our stockings for Santa," Ashley reminded him. "I see there's something in yours. You'd better go check it."

"I thought we said two gifts. I forgot about the stocking. Stocking gifts don't figure in the total, do they?" He looked a little distressed.

"You'll remember next year. Go see what Santa left you," she encouraged him.

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