Yolanda’s Escape
by
Gypsy deWilde
Smashwords Edition
Yolanda’s Escape
Copyright © 2010 by Gypsy deWilde
ISBN: 978-1-4523-2308-4
Cover Art by Gypsy deWilde
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This is a short work of erotic fiction. Though the main character, Yolanda, is based upon an ancestor, all other places and names are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. Any similar names or characteristics to any person, past, present, or future, are entirely coincidental.
Yolanda’s Escape
My grandmother (actually my great-grandmother), Yolanda, desperately needed to escape the old country when she was a young woman. Starvation, sickness, and a coming war plagued her world. She saved money to make her escape, the money being given to her monthly for food and shelter by a man who swore he loved her.
Then this lover, an influential man, an important man of means and wealth, died of unnatural causes. She was supposed to meet him, but had been late as she prepared a special surprise for him. As she arrived she saw his murderer leave the building, only she did not know this at the time. When a servant ran into the street hysterically screaming for help, Yolanda hid around the corner and waited. Once the gendarmes arrived and she heard Ivan was dead, she silently slipped away. No one would ever believe who she’d seen leaving the building. She alone knew who had been responsible for his death.
News soon spread that Yolanda’s name was the last word on Ivan’s lips. Suspicion fell on her and the gendarmes began their search. She could not even return to her rooms for her money or belongings for they were well-watched in hopes of apprehending her there.
Yolanda faced an even more serious worry. The man’s wife knew of her and wanted her eliminated for the secrets she carried. Yolanda feared for her very life. The woman had murdered her husband after all; she surely would not hesitate to kill his mistress.
Friends hid Yolanda, fed her, disguised her, and helped her make her way out of the country. She cried as she saw her homeland fade into the distance for the last time. Fleeing, many times mere steps ahead of the authorities or the rich woman’s assassins, she reached the coast where ships left regularly, full of immigrants bound for a new country and a new life.
Yet other problems cropped up. She carried no papers and had very little money. The friends who helped her along the way had little in the way of cash, but each gave what they could. Ships were overcrowded with people seeking to start over, to escape the coming conflict, striving for a new home and better lives for their families. Yolanda spent days going from ship to ship, searching for a solution, a job, an inexpensive space, anything to gain passage.
Time was running out, she discovered one morning as she traveled the docks looking for a ship to take her away. A poster containing her likeness and her name was being passed about by men in dark coats. She used a scarf to shield her face and sought out what might prove to be her last chance of escape.
Demitrius saw the small, shapely woman approach, her face shielded against the early nip in the air. His was the smallest and final ship tied at the long line at the pier. Not sure why this one figure out of all the crowd should draw his eyes, he leaned on the railing and puffed his cigar as he followed her progress to the gangplank below.
The steward in charge of boarding shook his head, pointed back along the dock, and turned away from the young woman. Demitrius watched, intrigued, as she grabbed the large man’s arm and seemed to plead with him, pointing up to the Captain’s spot at the rail. The steward pushed her hands loose and shoved her away. The young woman sprawled on the dock and his man turned to someone else.
Her scarf fell away, her Madonna-like features and beautiful eyes revealed in the weak sunlight. Demitrius hurried down the gangplank, rushing to her aid before he realized his intent, drawn by a force greater than himself.
Yolanda jerked away as he reached to help her to her feet. “I am going... No need to get rough.”
“I’ll not hurt you. I am Captain Demitrius Petrovski. I saw you fall and came to help.”
“If you wish to help, you will give me passage on your vessel. Your sailor there, he says there is no room for such as me and to go away.” Yolanda brushed off her sleeve and skirt then repositioned her scarf to conceal most of her face. “But I must find passage...”
“He is correct. We have no more cabins or berths; there will be men sleeping on the decks as it is. Many people wish to leave here now. But he should not have mishandled you. I am sorry. He will be dealt with.” Demitrius tipped his cap and prepared to step away.
“Captain...” She caught his large, calloused hand and grasped it with both of hers, staring up at him with wide cat’s eyes. “Please, I am desperate. I... I will be your personal servant, I will sleep in a corner and eat very little if you will but give me passage. I will repay you many times over once I have more money, but for now I will give you everything I have. It means life or death to me. Please...”
Speaking gently, he told her, “I have a cabin boy to see to my needs and it is not possible to make room where there is none. If you had a fortune, it would not buy you passage. All the space is taken.” Again he tried to turn away.
Yolanda took a chance and slipped nearer to him. She pressed her hands to his chest and stared straight up into surprised, dark brown eyes. “I think you misunderstand my offer. I can do things for you, things a cabin boy can only guess at.” She allowed one hand to slide lower. He was very much a man, she found. “I know how to please a man... It is in my blood...like a fire, a desire to satisfy, to offer pleasure as well as take it.” Her fingers played expertly over his manhood as she whispered to him.
His shaft became thick and full, his jewels tight and achy, here on the dock, amid the hurrying crowds as she stroked and taunted. Her bright green eyes sparkled with knowledge and smoldered with heat, but what swayed him was the single tear that ran down her cheek in spite of all her efforts to hold it back. Demitrius grabbed her wrist and dragged both hands away from his body, breathing hard. “This is a bad idea, but... You will remain in my cabin at night. You will stay away from the men, and you will obey me in everything. Agreed?”
“I agree. I will warm your bed and serve you for the entire trip. I will obey you as the Captain and as my master for the journey. Will I owe you nothing more at the end?”
“You will owe me nothing after the voyage as long as you stick to our arrangement. Where are your things? I’ll take you aboard.” Demitrius took her arm.
“I wear all I own.” She snuggled into his side, placing her hand over her still small stomach where her most cherished secret resided. This man was large, handsome in a rugged way, and smelled as if he washed regularly. The voyage looked to be pleasurable for both of them, if he just didn’t have any strange...appetites.
Yolanda’s escape and a new life had begun.
* * *
Demitrius shielded his new companion with his large body as they made their way across his ship’s deck. Crates of vegetables, live pigs, and chickens were being loaded in the hold. Passengers were being escorted to small stairways leading down into the ship.
Yolanda watched everything around her with curiosity and an eagerness to learn. She enjoyed the wonders of life and absorbed them all whenever possible. This ship did not look as grand as some of the others along the quay, but it felt sturdy beneath her feet and the Captain and crew seemed strong and fit.
“How long will this voyage take? Will there be bad weather?” She asked as they reached a small staircase. He went down first then turned to offer her a hand.
“There may be a storm or two, but we’re a sound steam vessel. The trip will take ten to twelve days at most if Lady Luck is with us.”
Demitrius angled his broad shoulders sideways to fit as he walked along the narrow passageway leading to a corner cabin. “Here it is—your home for the trip.” He opened the door and ushered her inside. There’s always water in the pitcher for drinking and over behind the curtain is the privet. The basin has a pump, but don’t drink the water as it comes up from the sea and is only for bathing. My cabin boy’s name is Jon and he’ll bring your meals and see to the cleaning. Don’t get in his way as he knows how I like things done,” the Captain warned.
“Yes, Captain. Looks like a fine space you’re sharing with me, and I’m grateful.” She eyed the large, sturdy bunk filling one corner beneath an open porthole. Then she sashayed closer to him and walked her fingers down his wide chest. “If you’ve time, I’ll show you just how—”
He grabbed her fingers. “Enough of that, girl. I’ve a ship to care for first or we’ll never leave port. There’ll be time for that later and you’ll soon tire of me once we’re underway. I aim to make you work hard for your passage.” He carried her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one. “Tell me your name... I can’t be going about calling you, Girl, now can I?”
His sweet kisses on her fingers touched her in ways she had not felt in a while. A tender place opened in her heart for him, this man she did not know, but who could show her this simple kindness. “Yolanda... And I shan’t tell you more until the journey’s end.” She teased him with a saucy grin, “You’re sure you don’t have time? Most men would be near finished by now...”
Demitrius caught her bound hair in his hand and tugged her mouth near his, firmly but careful not to hurt her. “You’ll find I’m not most men, my Yolanda. I prefer to take my time with some things. Wine, a good cigar, and a new woman are all to be enjoyed slowly.” He softly kissed her mouth. “Tasted...” He licked across her lips with his bold tongue. “Explored...” he whispered hotly against her now parted lips. He delved between her lips with his wicked tongue and played with the very tip of hers. “Savored...” he hoarsely got out before he deepened the kiss and drew her body tightly against his. His hands traveled her back and shoulders then down to her upper buttocks.
She felt the ridge of his desire grow stronger against her belly and pressed into him. She opened herself to his kiss and let him have his way. Yolanda thrilled to being held close, feeling safe in his embrace for the first time in weeks. His kisses stirred emotions best pushed away. But she welcomed them as proof she was alive and able to share something special with him, if only for a few days or weeks. She would share her womanly ways with this man while she could and she would deal with the rest when it was necessary. Her arms tightened around his neck and she returned kiss for kiss, her hands running wildly through his cropped brown hair.
Demitrius broke away, holding her at arm’s length. “Yolanda, I warn you, rest now for you’ll get none tonight. And don’t attempt to keep me from my duties as my ship must come first—for both our sakes.” With that he picked up his cap from the floor where it had fallen and headed from the room. At the door, he turned back. “And stay put. I’ll not have you wandering among my men causing trouble. Just the smell of you as you are now would drive them to a frenzy.” He closed the door firmly behind him.
Yolanda touched her swollen lips and smiled after him. “No, I’ll not keep you from your lovely ship, Captain. But I’ll give her a fair run for your attentions this voyage, I’d wager.” She went to play with the pump. Once she knew the workings of it, she stripped off, bathed using lots of the fragrant soap she found, and then washed out her bloomers and camisole. A rope ran across another corner and she made use of it to hang her things. Even the outer ones would benefit by a good airing.
She found a clean linen shirt hanging on a peg and slipped it on before climbing into the bunk. Sinking into the feather mattress, Yolanda pulled the blanket up around her ears. It smelled of the sea. She was asleep in no time, exhausted after weeks on the run and from sleeping in doorways these last few nights with one eye open.
Yolanda never knew when the cabin boy entered, left a tray, and slipped out again.
“She be sound asleep, Captain,” Jon reported. “Must be nigh on dead to sleep through this ruckus.” Jon waved his hand at all the loading and work continuing in preparation for leaving the following morning. “I left the tray just as you said.”
“Good job, Jon. Now, be a good lad and fetch me something to gnaw on whilst I work and a pint. Oh, and bring one of those cigars we got in Spain.” Demitrius shooed the lad away as he hurried to stop a cargo crate from going in with the passenger’s luggage.
* * *
Bone weary and smelling of a cask of lamp oil that wasn’t plugged properly, Demitrius dropped to the edge of his bunk to tug half-heartedly at his boots. He’d long since sent Jon to his hammock. But they should be able to depart early once the last of the passengers boarded.
Movement on his bed startled him. He’d forgotten about the girl.
“Here, Captain. Let me,” She straddled his leg, rump toward his face and expertly pried off a boot. Then she did the same with the other one. “There now, that should feel a mite better,” she spoke quietly. “Whew, you smell like an oil pot.”
He heard a match and then a lamp glowed in the previously dark cabin. She stood there covered in his best linen shirt, dark wavy hair falling about her shoulders, and slim, shapely legs revealed from the knees down. She looked warm and welcoming.
“Shall I finish filling the tub for you? Your boy brought in hot water earlier and I tried to keep it warm.” She moved over to where she’d draped blankets over the large, round, wooden tub to retain the heat for him.
He grinned at her. “You’re already earning your way, Yolanda. I had my mind set that it would be a cold wash for me tonight.” Demitrius stood and stripped off his waistcoat and shirt then his trousers. “If you’re modest, you’d best turn your head because I aim to shuck these and get in the tub afore the water cools. I’m tired of smelling this hellish coal oil.”
“Are you ugly? Or may-haps disfigured?” she teased as she removed the blankets to prepare the tub for him. She felt the water and sighed in relief that it was still hot.
“Not that I know of. I’ve never had a complaint from a female so far. But you can check for yourself later.” He stepped over into the tub and groaned with pleasure as he folded his legs and sank into the liquid warmth.
Yolanda picked up his soiled clothes with the tips of her fingers, careful not to brush the smelly things against herself, and dropped them outside the door. When she turned back he was vigorously soaping his hair and face. She moved behind him and slid off the shirt she’d borrowed, tossing it onto the bed. Wrapping in a toweling cloth, she then stepped forward and took over soaping his hair. He grunted his appreciation and leaned his head back toward her allowing her to better reach him. She smiled to herself and also soaped his neck, shoulders, throat, and upper chest. Then using a dipper she rinsed him.
“Arm, please,” Yolanda requested and proceeded to wash it and then the other one with a soapy cloth. She enjoyed exploring his work-hardened forearms and muscled upper arms. Not stopping there, she washed his back and stomach, and then laughed as he stuck his feet up one at a time for her to wash his long, hairy toes.
“You’ve forgotten something,” he prompted and winked at her.
“No, Captain, just saving the best for last.” She soaped her cloth slowly and deliberately. Then she stroked it inch by inch down his chest, across his navel following the dark hair arrowing south, and finally to the thick nest of curly hair surrounding his large shaft.
As the warm soapy cloth enfolded his manhood, Demitrius let his head fall back against the edge of the tub and closed his eyes in total pleasure. She gently washed his shaft over and over until he thought he would burst. But then she went lower still and cupped his jewels, sliding the cloth back and forth over first one and then the other. He growled and reached for her.
Yolanda was ready for that, however, and backed away laughing while wagging her finger at him. “Your boy said you haven’t eaten properly this day. I thought we might sup together. He brought a full tray.”
Disappointed, but hungry, Demitrius gave in for the moment. He’d have her soon enough and the bed would be better than the tub...or the floor. He finished his bath and also wrapped in a toweling cloth. He joined her at the small table where she busily divided out two portions from the food, hers much smaller than his. He grabbed a hunk of cheese and a slab of pork and dug in.
They ate in silence until the worst of his hunger was slaked. He relaxed a bit and watched as she used a small knife to peel a pear. She cut it into small pieces and then stood to move around the table to him. Yolanda took a slice between her fingers and held it to his lips. As he accepted it, her fingers rubbed the drippings on his lower lip. Then she leaned even nearer and licked the juice from his lips with her tongue. Picking up another piece and another, she fed him all except the last two slices in the same manner. With the next to the last piece, she sucked the juice from his lips with her mouth. The last piece of pear, she put half-way in her own mouth before leaning near him once again, offering to share.
Demitrius had never enjoyed a pear more as he took the half-slice in his mouth and met her lips with his own. Sweet, succulent pear juice burst into his mouth as he fused to hers, open-mouthed, moist, and greedy. His tongue stole the pear, he chewed once and swallowed, and then he took over. He thrust his tongue deep within her warm, juicy recess and pulled her onto his lap at the same time.
His wandering hands made short work of the top portion of her towel. Her breasts were well-shaped and filled his hands. Her nipples were pebbled and extended, showing her need of him, and he rolled them between his fingers as he kissed her, alternately nibbling then stroking her tongue with his.
Yolanda felt his shaft grow longer and broader against her thigh. She wriggled against him and tangled her fingers in the hair curling across his chest. Pinching his male nipples then stroking his broad firm flesh, warmth flooded her private recesses and she was ready and eager for him to bed her. If he used his staff the way he kissed, she should tolerate the experience well.
When his mouth left hers, she whimpered her complaint but then gasped as his hot lips closed over a full half of her breast at once with his tongue lathing the nipple his clever fingers had already sensitized. As desire arced between her legs, she squirmed and reached for his staff. Tugging impatiently, she soon had it out from beneath his towel and her hand wrapped around it. When he switched to her other breast and bit down on the nipple, she made noises in her throat and grasped his manhood harder.
Demitrius needed her in his bed with his staff buried between her legs this very minute. He lifted her, letting the towels fall, and took the three strides necessary to dump her on the feather mattress. Without giving her a chance to move, he slid between her legs and shoved his shaft against her nether lips. Catching himself just before he impaled her, he slowed a bit, taking the time to lubricate his shaft with her juices by rubbing the head against her.
Yolanda shifted slightly, widening her legs more and lifting to invite him in as he rubbed the broad, hard head of his staff against her. She moaned in delight and buried her fingers in his back as he sank in, slowly filling her, inch by torturous inch. She’d had big men before...Ivan had been large, but Demitrius was both wider and longer when fully aroused as he was now. Yolanda shifted her hips again, trying to accommodate him completely as she stretched around the silken rod of iron pushing deeper and deeper.
Demitrius stopped when he felt her shift, thinking he was hurting her. She’d taken more already than many women larger and more experienced. He drew back a bit to try to ease her discomfort. He could gain his satisfaction from here and see that she enjoyed it too.
But Yolanda had other ideas. “No,” she cried, grabbing him at his lower back. Forcefully, she clasped him and drove her pelvis upward, shoving him back into her, deeper yet. Through gritted teeth, she dared, “What’s wrong, Captain? No sense of adventure?”
He threw back his head and laughed then kissed her hard. “I’ll give you all the adventure you can hold.” With that he drew back a bit then surged forward. “Tell me when you’ve had enough, little gypsy.” He felt her tremble beneath him as he pulled out a bit and shoved more in repeatedly until he was so deep he felt the ending wall of her brush the tip of his staff.
Yolanda lost herself in pain-pleasure such as she’d never experienced. She had never been so full, so stuffed with hot, seething manhood before. Every tiny movement of her inner walls sent arrows of delight along her limbs. Every time her inner muscles squeezed him, his shaft jerked and added more sensation to her inner parts. He now lay impaling her, totally still, groaning deep in his throat as her inner parts worked on him. She knew he was near completion, but then so was she. One good stroke might take both of them over the precipice. It became a contest to see who could wait the longest.
Demitrius held perfectly still as her muscles gripped his burning, pulsing staff. One push and he would fill her with his seed. He wanted to feel more of her...he wanted her to come apart beneath him and then he would pump her full, reaching his pleasure once she was satisfied and there was less chance of hurting her.
Deciding to see if he could help her, he slid a hand from beneath her back and along her side to her breast. He stroked her sensitive nipple then pinched it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it as he tugged.
That did it for Yolanda. She could remain still no longer. She shoved upward with her lower body catching him unaware and drove him to the hilt. Then she rode him eagerly as her pleasure washed through her over and over again in scalding, blinding waves.
He couldn’t stop what was happening. Hot, liquid pressure roiled up from his jewels and he thrust hard and deep. He heard her scream and covered her mouth with his, burying his tongue inside. Grabbing her buttocks he helped her work up and down upon him. The pressure became unbearable and he ground into her, flattening his jewels against her, refusing to let her move until the dam broke and he spurted his full load of seed deep within her. As he collapsed he hugged her to him and rolled just enough not to crush her completely.
Several minutes passed before either of them moved. They lay panting, gasping for breath as the last of their pleasure ebbed through their bodies.
Yolanda squirmed up his body enough to brush her lips against his lower jaw. She whispered, “Thank you, Captain. Not only have you saved my life by helping me escape, but you’ve given me back my pleasure and my sense of adventure. I thought I had lost them forever. And you’re not too horribly disfigured,” she teased. Then she drifted off to sleep, a satisfied smile on her face.
# # #
I hope you have enjoyed this free story.
For more erotic stories from Gypsy deWilde
Please visit gypsydewildeserotictales.yolasite.com
Other erotic short stories by this author include:
The New Maid’s Duties
Serving at the Cotillion
Abigail Takes A Ride