Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity

Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity

by A. Aimee

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Overview

Sex. Deceit. Lust. Captivity. And maybe…the love of a lifetime. Just when Rachel thought she could settle down with the man of her dreams, life takes a dramatic turn and she finds herself getting sucked into a web of dangerous deceit and sexual intrigue. From the House of Sin on Cap Ferrat to an isolated Buddhist monastery in the mountains of upstate New York, Rachel once again finds herself on the battle field of our times, both sexually and emotionally. Then, in a blinding flash of insight that lays bare the haunted alleyways of her soul, she realizes that things are not what they seem to be. Will she find her way out of captivity or will she remain in the shackles of the old world order?

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781782799436
Publisher: Hunt, John Publishing
Publication date: 06/26/2015
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 218
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

A. Aimee is a modern woman and international author.

Read an Excerpt

Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity


By A. Aimee

John Hunt Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2014 A. Aimee
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-78279-943-6



CHAPTER 1

Part I

Cap Ferrat, The French Riviera


Little did I know that the day my beloved, Albert, was abducted by terrorists in Jordan was also the beginning of my own captivity.

That horrendous day started innocently enough. I was sitting peacefully in the sunny glass-covered terrace connected to Albert's house on Cap Ferrat, while baby Isabella was taking her afternoon nap in her little crib beside me. Albert was away, in Amman, Jordan, heading a conference with his friend, Prince Abdul of Saudi Arabia. They were presenting their developmental project called "Reconstruction" to top Jordanian officials and members of the influential K Fund.

I had spoken to Albert on the phone a few hours earlier. The week-long conference, which was being held at the Four Seasons Hotel in downtown Amman, had ended. Albert and his team were packing up to return home in a few hours' time. I was relieved and delighted. Neither Albert nor I had been particularly happy about him going to Jordan to begin with ...

That was when Victor Gandler, CEO of Albert's company, Giovanni International, knocked on the glass door of the terrace. He'd been working down in the annex offices at the lower end of the property.

I got up and opened the door.

"What's up, Victor?"

"Rachel, there's something you should know."

I motioned him to come in. I never particularly liked Victor, but since he was the leading member of Albert's team, I always did my best to be friendly and polite.

"Turn on the TV."

"Why? What's up?"

"A massive car bomb just exploded outside the Four SeasonsHotel in Amman. Apparently just as all the delegates were leaving the hotel for the airport."

"Oh no!" I cried and ran back into the room.

I turned on the TV.

CNN. BREAKING NEWS flashed across the screen. MASSIVE EXPLOSION OUTSIDE THE FOUR SEASONS HOTEL IN AMMAN. Live pictures from outside the hotel flashed across the screen. It was mayhem ... smoke was everywhere ... destroyed vehicles, hysterical people in shock, screaming and staggering around ... the carnage was ...

All the blood seemed to drain from me and I sat down, feeling faint.

"Oh my God!" I cried.

BREAKING NEWS kept flashing across the screen.

People covered in blood were just staggering around – looking dazed and shocked. There was smoking wreckage everywhere ...

BREAKING NEWS kept flashing across the screen ...

* * *

Just five months before that horrendous day in mid-December, life looked completely different. Albert and I had returned to Cap Ferrat from New York and were blissfully happy. The grueling experience of Howard's trial for attacking me in the hospital and triggering baby Isabella's premature birth was over at last. Howard had been sentenced to eighteen months in prison for threatening our baby's life and causing her to be born five weeks before she was due. But now she was thriving and we were finally able to go to Albert's house on Cap Ferrat and get our lives back. So we did. We packed up and flew to Nice with three-month old Isabella and my five-year-old son, Daniel.

We were elated, high and overjoyed at our good fortune.

Finally there was time for us.

Albert's house was perfect in every way, like an enchanted ship. And there we were – Albert and I with our new baby – on a fairy-tale cruise in that big, wonderful house on the hill, overlooking the sea.

Everything was perfect.

Everything delighted us.

I savored every moment and knew Albert did too, because finally we were alone again. Finally we were able to find each other after our time of trial in New York. Isabella was a wonderful baby – easy in every way – and miracle of miracles, Albert, the love of my life, was her father!

Our first project as a family after we arrived was to redo Albert's house. Though I loved the Zen minimalist way he had decorated the house when I originally saw it the year before, moving in with him and our new baby and my son Daniel meant we had to make a lot of changes. Because it was no longer going to be the house of an eligible bachelor with a hang for open spaces and Zen meditation, but rather it was going to be "our home" – a house for our new family.

So we made changes everywhere and Albert seemed to delight in doing it. Nothing was sacred or off limits when it came to making changes. My favorite space by far in the house was the spacious glass-covered terrace which we made into a lovely living room/playroom for us and the children. It was such a wonderful room because the light was always fantastic, and you could be there all year round, no matter what the weather.

"My mother loved this room too," Albert told me, "and always wanted to sit here. You know she moved here from Vienna and lived after my father died. I always found her here whenever I came to the house."

"Well, it makes sense," I said, "if you've spent most of your life in a cold climate!"

"Exactly what she always said," he replied laughing.

We threw out all the stuff that was in there and redid the space completely, putting in large, comfy white sofas and arms chairs, and adding nice throw rugs on the floor and also on the playing space for Daniel and Isabella.

Albert kept his office on the lower level of the house with its splendid view of the Mediterranean. But the annex further down the property was where his business operations were really based. The annex, which was mostly hidden from view from the house by the trees, had several well-equipped offices, a meeting room, a luxurious lounge, and it was connected to a two-storey guest house for visitors. I was delighted with the set-up because it meant that even if Albert had to work with his team, he wasn't far away.

But now it was summer and, fortunately for us, it was a slow time of the year for Giovanni International. So we spent our time lounging around the pool; I swam a lot while Albert would sit with baby Isabella. Daniel also loved the pool, but we put him in a local playschool because we wanted him to make friends and learn French as quickly as possible.


It wasn't long after we arrived that Albert's best friend and my former lover, Stefan, came to the house with his Dutch wife, Monique, and their two daughters, Sabine and Linda.

It was a big surprise to see them.

It was also the first time I'd seen Stefan since I left him in Nice the previous October when I discovered I was pregnant.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw Stefan approaching on that hot sunny day.

"Look who's coming!" I cried out in surprise. We weren't expecting them.

Albert and I were sitting by the pool with Isabella napping beside us when suddenly, Stefan came walking across the lawn towards us with his family.

Seeing Stefan like that, all of a sudden after so long, sent an intense rush of energy through my body.

Albert jumped up to greet them! "What a wonderful surprise!" he cried.

I just sat there, stunned. Stefan!

I hadn't forgotten him or how gorgeous he was or how much I loved him. I tingled all over as he approached in his white jeans and tight-fitting black t-shirt. He looked so divine. Oh, my blond Adonis, how I loved him!

Albert hugged Stefan and Monique warmly. Then he took Stefan's two daughters by the hand and led them quietly over to the baby carriage where Isabella was sleeping.

I got up and just stood there, gaping, drinking in Stefan with my eyes as he and his wife turned and came over to me. It was a shock to finally see his wife in real life after all that happened between Stefan and me. She was as blond and gorgeous as he was.

Did Monique know Stefan and I had been lovers? I wondered.

But there was something about her open, friendly manner that told me she didn't.

He hasn't told her, I smiled to myself. Wise, very wise.

So I played along and didn't immediately throw myself into his arms. Instead we just hugged in a friendly way, as friends will do who haven't seen each other in a long time. Then I shook hands with Monique and we all went over to see baby Isabella. She was awake now and looking at us with her big brown eyes.

Albert picked her up and as he did, I watched Stefan. This was the first time Stefan had actually seen the baby and the relief on his beautiful face was palpable. It was obvious she wasn't his baby! Yes, Isabella really did have curly, jet-black hair and dark brown eyes like Albert. There wasn't a trace of blond baby in her! Not a trace! It was obvious she wasn't his child as we both thought when I first discovered I was pregnant.

"She's so beautiful, Albert," Stefan said softly, touching her little cheek. "Beautiful."

I was positive Albert knew what Stefan was thinking too.

"Isn't she a little angel?" Stefan smiled, turning to his blond,blue-eyed daughters, who were both wide-eyed with appreciation.

"She looks just like you, Albert!" exclaimed Sabine, the eldest, and everyone laughed.

After that, Stefan's girls pulled off their shorts and t-shirts and hopped in the pool while we all sat down in the shade and chatted. Albert's housekeeper, Madam Raffin, came out with refreshments for everyone. It was all very relaxing and homey.

As usual, Stefan didn't say very much, but Monique chatted away.

"So you lived in Amsterdam?" she cried when I said I knew the city.

I couldn't help but smile inwardly as I listened to her talk. She was so obviously Dutch, very down-to-earth and outspoken.

"Oh yes, I lived there for seven years."

"For seven years! Really? What were you doing there?"

"I was married to a Dutchman."

"You were ...?" Monique was incredulous.

"Yes, believe it or not, I was!"

Everyone laughed.

Then Monique and I exchanged a little gossip about Amsterdam, where I'd lived and where she'd lived, and a bit about the shop Jan and I had in the center of town – and also about my son, Daniel, who was at playschool.

"I would have kept Daniel home today," I said, "if I'd known you and the girls were coming."

Monique started to reply but then stopped in the middle of her sentence with this quizzical look on her face. First she looked at Albert and then at me. "But if you lived in Amsterdam, Rachel," she said slowly, looking back and forth from Albert to me, "then how in the world did the two of you meet?"

I could have sworn Stefan turned pale when she asked that question.

Obviously she didn't know it was Stefan who brought me to the Riviera from Amsterdam and introduced me to Albert.

"Oh, now that's a very long story," I exclaimed and jumped up from my chair with the most innocent smile on my face. "Why don't we all take a swim? It's so hot today."

"Good idea," Stefan chimed in immediately, standing up and pulling off his t-shirt.

Albert just sat there, smiling like a Buddha. "You all go ahead. I'll look after Isabella."


That night in bed, Albert asked, "Well, darling, how was it to see Stefan again?"

His question took me by surprise, but I answered truthfully, "Oh it was great, just great. You know how much I loved him, and still do."

"Yes," he said slowly, "I do know. And I also know he loves you too – so much – even though he's probably never told you in so many words."

"No, he never really did," I replied. "But I guess I always knew, on some level that he did."

"He's not much of a talker and probably never will be."

"No, definitely not!" I smiled and we both laughed.

"But the truth is we both love him," I continued. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, darling, it is. There's just something about Stefan – a kind of purity that just gets to you. Once he decides he loves you, well, his loyalty is undying. You know that."

We were both silent for a moment.

"Fortunately, Monique doesn't seem to know Stefan was with me."

"No, she doesn't, that's obvious. She wouldn't have been so relaxed and chatty if she had the slightest suspicion that the two of you were lovers."

"Well, that's a relief – it would probably make things really difficult for all of us if she knew."

"Yeah, undoubtedly," said Albert, "but you saw for yourself she's a pretty tough cookie, as you Americans say. The truth is, she hasn't always been happy with Stefan's relationship with me. She wants him to be more independent."

"So I noticed."

There was silence for a moment until I added, laughing again, "Didn't Stefan seem relieved when he finally saw with his own eyes that Isabella obviously isn't his baby."

"Yes, he did," smiled Albert. "But I don't think you realize how difficult your getting pregnant was for him."

"No ... maybe not ..."

"To really understand his reaction," Albert continued, "you have to know a little about his background, which I'm sure he never told you much about."

"No, not really ..."

"Well, he comes from a little village in the mountains of Austria from mountain people and his family is Catholic and very religious. People like that take the matter of having children very, very seriously."

"You mean like you do!" I added, poking him in the ribs.

"Yes," he replied laughing, "... like I do. But even more so in Stefan's case because he already had two daughters when you got pregnant. You've got to remember that. And understand that he was always so troubled by the fact that his marriage to Monique was so problematic. Not so much because of his feelings for her, but because of his daughters. He feels being a father is a solemn duty so he really wants to be with his girls and be their father. That's how important it is to him."

"He did tell me, right from the beginning, how much he missed his daughters ..." I said, thinking back to my short, tempestuous love affair with Stefan.

We were both silent, thinking about Stefan.

"When you think about his background," Albert continued, "you better understand that all Monique's liberal Dutch ways and talk of single parenting and mothers taking care of their children without their fathers was something he never really understood or was willing to accept."

"Hmmm ..." I replied, "I guess you're right. Stefan once told me that if I didn't have a child, and if he didn't have two, he would have dropped everything and run away with me. In fact, he told me that more than once."

"Well, I'm sure he meant it and that's probably the biggest declaration of love any woman's ever gotten out of Stefan. So you should be honored, my darling. I can see I was right when I said he really did – and probably still does – love you."

"Well, maybe he does," I said teasingly as I pushed Albert down on his back so I could crawl up on top of him.

He was a sight to behold. I just loved looking at him with his slightly tousled, curly, jet-black hair and that mischievous grin on his lips. I started kissing his bare chest on my way up to his sensual mouth. I loved the warmth of his full luscious lips as my mouth bore down on his, and my hands found their way into his dark curly hair. "Hmmm ..." I sighed softly as he engulfed me in his arms.

I snuggled into his chest, feeling safe and happy. We lay like that for a while, savoring our good fortune and enjoying the tranquility of being together.

Then I felt his hands slowly moving down my naked back, caressing me gently as his hands sought my buttock and thighs. "How is little pussy doing tonight?" he whispered softly in my ear. "Is she ..." He didn't finish his sentence but I knew, once again, he was going to ask me how my pussy was doing now after the birthing. It wasn't the first time he'd asked.

"Oh, darling," I sighed, "I'm really quite okay ... really. And she's quite okay too."

"Are you sure?"

"But of course I'm sure," I said, laughing softly into his neck. "Please, I want you to touch me ... I promise you, I won't break."

Obviously Albert had never been a father before, never been with a woman who had recently given birth. "It's been more than four months now," I cried laughingly.

"Come here," I said firmly as I rolled off him onto my back, pulling him with me. I wanted him on top of me. I wanted to feel all his manhood in me.

"Not so fast," he said deliciously in my ear as he fondled my nipples which went taunt at his touch. "I want to pleasure you a little first and enjoy you ..." With that he moved slowly down to my pussy. First he touched her softly with his fingers and then he began caressing her gently with his tongue.

I moaned with pleasure.

Oh, he was good, oh so good.

He kept on kissing my pussy gently until I was quivering all over. Then he stopped kissing her and massaged her softly with his fingers, putting them up me with that gentle firmness of his. I sighed deeply. He knew me so well. Knew what I liked ... knew everything about me ...


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity by A. Aimee. Copyright © 2014 A. Aimee. Excerpted by permission of John Hunt Publishing Ltd..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Part I – Cap Ferrat, The French Riviera,
Part II – Albert's Story,
Part III – Cap Ferrat, The French Riviera,
Part IV – Albert's Story Continues,
Part V – New York,

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