Lydia
The absolute most cliched Halloween costume you could pick in the last few decades was a Playboy Bunny. But I couldn’t bring myself to choose anything else! I mean, it was just so perfect; we were going to a private rich folks club where I’d once poured drinks and lit cigars for the patrons. All of that made my choice to commission a classic suit pretty much a guarantee.
The fuchsia coloured silk perfectly molded to my curves and held my tits up better than expected, the leg cuts were also just a bit higher than I thought they would be, but it certainly gave me a good range of motion. I adjusted my cufflinks and turned in the mirror, smirking at my little tail as I bopped back and forth. The tail was adorable, but the collar and cuffs were shockingly perfect considering how well they fit over my bracelets and real collar.
“Lydia, the car’s here!”
I glanced to the door at the sound of Patrick’s voice. Quickly, I ruffled my curls and grabbed my heels off the counter with my matching headband. Here we go. The first time we were going back to Plaisir after the TMZ incident – this better be good.
Throwing open the bathroom door, I came out into the bedroom and glanced between the guys as they pulled their jackets on. Jon opted to come as Hugh Hefner if only for the reason that Patrick had been horrified at the idea of looking “old” as he so lovingly called it, and Pat himself had gotten a gorgeous custom-made Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde costume. They both looked really good, but I was mostly in awe of the fact that they had put so much effort into their costumes.
“How are we supposed to take you anywhere like that?” Jon asked as he caught sight of me. “We’re never going to make it to the club.”
I grinned down at myself and posed dramatically with my hand on my hip as they both checked me out. “You’ll be fine, pass me the trench coat.”
Patrick chuckled and held up my black jacket for me to slip into. The coat didn’t quite hit my knees and my dark pantyhose weren’t exactly thick, so hopefully, I wouldn’t be out too long in the cold. Without any preamble to prepare me for the weather, he held my hand for me to pull my heels on and the three of us headed down to the car.
It was wet and rainy in D.C. but that just add to the fun spookiness of the lights and décor. It was about ten-thirty now, and kids streamed up and down the sidewalks while screaming excitedly and swinging their candy bags without a care in the world. I touched the faintly fogged glass and watched the parents trade off full bags for empty ones, others encouraged their young kids to knock on the doors, some posed for pictures. I’m going to take so many pictures. I didn’t have a lot from my childhood, and I had maybe only one or two of my dad – I needed to make sure that I had more for my own kids. Plural. I smirked to myself and caught Patrick’s reflection in the window. At least one more. Hopefully two. We could talk about that much, much later though.
The streets became narrower as we got closer to the mansion, the landscaping more meticulous, and the decorations more elaborate. Finally, the car pulled up to a large gate and I watched the shadow of the security guard pass by while shining his light in at us. After a moment, he gave the driver the go-ahead and we continued up the winding driveway.
Trees held up strings of orange and purple lights with swaying white ghosts and ghouls. I watched it all with growing excitement, practically bouncing in my seat as we pulled up in front of the mansion. The massive white rectangle of a structure looked more welcoming than I had ever seen it with all the windows lit up and the dozens of pumpkins lining the stairs. I hit Pat’s thigh repeatedly as I pointed out the window, unable to contain my wonder.
“Look!” I whispered fiercely. “Ohmigosh, look at all the jack-o-lanterns!”
Patrick and Jon laughed and waited for the greeter to open up the door for us. As I stepped out onto the gravel, I got a better look at the grounds and heard the thumping music coming from inside. The men came up on either side of me and escorted us into the building, nodding politely at the costumed people flanking the doors. They reminded me of the weird auctioneers the first time I was here, except that instead of wearing pewter bird masks, they now wore black and gold brocade cloaks with giant hoods pulled up. At first, I thought it was just the shadows from their hoods hiding their faces, but as we got closer, I could see that they were actually wearing some sort of stretchy black material over their faces. Weird. I knew the whole premise of the club was to be completely immersed, but I doubted I could take something like that seriously.
Together, the weird faceless people opened the doors and let us into the house. The outside had gone for a classy and spooky instead of scary approach, oddly child friendly, but inside was full-on horror movie. The invitation had warned of strobe lights for epileptics and smoke machines for asthmatics, but I still wasn’t prepared for everything they had done.
Patrick helped me out of my coat while Jon checked in with the front desk and I just gawked at the scenery. All the lights were off, strobe lights pulsed every now and then from the floor, the fog rolled across our feet, and the modern wall sconces had been replaced with traditional candle holders. Fake, bloody shackles hung from the railings, cage doors had replaced the normal ones and hung slightly off their hinges. And the people; there had to be hundreds of people weaving themselves in and out of rooms, carrying an array of creepy cocktails and wearing heavily BDSM themed gear or extremely elegant and extensive character costumes.
Across the way, straight to the ballroom, the fireplace roared, and I could see the red coloured lights trying to make the room more hell-like. I wonder if each room has a different theme? As I was pondering that, I became vaguely aware of music playing over the subdued sound effects.
“Are they playing the Rocky Horror soundtrack?” I asked Jon as I put on my headband and bent my ears back into shape. I was absolutely certain that Science Fiction/Double Feature was playing from another room.
“They had Frank-N-Furter’s lab as a theme room last year,” he replied with obvious amusement. “A friend of mine said they were doing a shadow box set up this year with curtains to make it look like the sex scenes.”
The bedroom scene when Tim Curry gets it on with everyone. Huh. Alright. I shook my head to myself and hung myself off Jon’s arm while Patrick straightened up his jacket.
“Alright, Hef, lead the way,” I teased.
The guys chatted in my ear about the rooms, gesturing to the erotic, weird, and some downright creepy displays. One woman was tied to the bed with a cloth gag in her mouth, she was lying on messy, wrinkled sheets and wore a ripped shirt with panties that barely covered anything. She squirmed and writhed as the man above her dripped bright red, hot wax onto her tits – making it look like she was bleeding everywhere. The man, the dominant, wore a black bandana over his mouth, no shirt, and ripped jeans. He was clearly playing the role of an intruder to her obvious pleasure. I watched with fascination as she dug her nails into her palms and moaned loudly around her gag.
It took me a minute to realize that this scene was playing out in the same room I had done my initiation. With all the furniture removed, it was a hell of a lot different than I remembered it.
“I want to hear you moan like that while I drip wax down your back,” Patrick whispered in my ear suddenly. “Jon could use ice on you at the same time, get you properly worked up until you’re begging us for more…”
He trailed off and I drew in a shaky breath as his fingers trailed down my arm. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I found myself keeping my legs tight together at the realization that I was incredibly turned on by both his words and the couple’s actions.
“Do you think we could?” I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off the writhing woman.
A lot of what we did was safe while pregnant, the only real exception being when they choked me sometimes, so that was off the table. Along with flogging on my back, but my butt was completely safe. Was wax though? I’ll have to check that out.
“Probably,” he answered huskily.
He nipped at my throat and I gasped in surprise. Jon’s grip on my waist tightened and his fingers dug into the silk until it felt like he was going to tear through the fabric. I glanced up at him, to see Jon staring down at me intently – arctic blue eyes sharply focused. Without saying anything, I tugged them away from the scene and toward the bar. They followed me closely, dodging other people as they flitted back and forth.
The bar was set up to look like an old saloon, not much different than it already looked, except for the fact that there were signs telling the patrons where to find prostitutes and whores, and several mostly naked women perched on the bar. It took me a moment to realize that the male bartender was completely naked while serving drinks.
“Do you think they have anything non-alcoholic?” I asked the guys.
“They probably have some fruit punches and flavoured water,” Pat offered. “What do you want, Jon?”
“Scotch, chilled glass, no dry ice. They go overboard with that.”
Patrick snickered and went to get us some drinks while I glanced around at the cool themed furniture. I took a seat in the barrel chair and leaned forward with my elbows on the table, watching the girls shimmy their chests at the men they were talking with. One of them had fake stitches painted all over her body, along with faint green makeup. A zombie prostitute. Cute, I thought, smirking to myself.
“Have I ever introduced you to Eloise?”
Jon’s words brought me out of my reverie and I blinked a few times rapidly. “Is that her?” I asked, gesturing to the long, dark haired woman. I knew that Corrine sat beside her; I recognized her copper coloured hair.
Jon nodded. “She’s friendly, and she was Patrick’s first submissive.” He called over to her and she perked up, waving happily at us before getting off the bar.
Patrick got back to the table before she did and set down a martini glass in front of me; fake blood dripped down the rim and into the bright pink lemonade. I thanked him and took a tentative sip, watching Jon over the rim over my glass as he suspiciously eyed the lime green ice cubes in his drink.
“They aren’t flavoured or anything,” Patrick told him, obviously noticing the trepidation as well. “Trust me, I asked the bartender because I knew you would shit if they were.”
“They’re green,” Jon complained. “Not everything has to be themed…”
A bubbly laugh drew my attention and I turned to see Eloise pulling up a chair at our table. “It’s Halloween, Harris, you know we go all out for this and Valentine’s day.”
Jesus, I could just imagine what Valentine’s day looked like here. I laughed, set my glass aside and held out my hand. “Hey, I’m Lydia.”
She shook my hand happily. “Eloise, but you can just call me Elle.”
With all the people, all the theatrics, and the amount of drinks trading hands, I was pretty sure that the normal etiquette for the club, like slaves not speaking unless spoken to or avoiding eye contact, was most optional.
“It’s good to finally meet you,” she continued. “I’ve heard a lot from Ike and Morgan.”
I bristled at her words and Pat just snorted indignantly. “Heard about that, did you?” he asked.
“Oh, hell yeah, everyone here did. Ike hauled him across the coals for bribing the security team for access to the servers and the entire security team was replaced afterward.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I was appalled about it when I heard he did that, I’m so sorry.”
She reached out and touched my hand reassuringly, my skin prickled at her soft touch. When I’d first seen Eloise, she had been standing up against a wall, bare naked, and covered in body oil. It was easy to say then that she was more of a prop, when my understanding of BDSM was that I was just there to do what they wanted sexually, which usually happened to involve me getting off, but actually talking to her now felt weird. She was a person, with a loud, out there personality and was very comfortable with public nudity.
It was kind of neat to me while a man was across the room, on his knees in front of his Domme while eating her pussy, that this girl and I could just sit there like it was nothing. And I know she’d had sex with my boyfriends. But that didn’t even bother me, not like it had with Trent and any other boyfriend where meeting their exes made me irrationally jealous and combative – this girl wasn’t competition, she was someone here to have fun.
“Thanks,” I told her with a lopsided shrug. “It’s fine, it’s in the past now and I think we’ve mostly moved on from it.”
“Until we announce the engagement,” Patrick pointed out.
Oh. Why didn’t I realize that might dredge things back up? Shit.
“Don’t worry about it for now,” Elle advised quickly. “Hey, have you met the other girls here?”
“No.”
“Do you want to? Corrine’s out back in the hot tub but we have a bunch of great set ups if you want like a mini tour.”
Why not? “Sure,” I answered, downing the rest of my drink. “Do you guys mind?”
Jon and Patrick glanced at each other and shook their heads. “Not at all, dove, you go on and we’ll come find you shortly.”
Elle and I excused ourselves from the table and took off back through the intruder set up. The woman was covered in candle wax while another man had joined them and were fucking her while the other filmed it. My palms were sweaty as I watched the well-built man fuck her like he owned her. He does, I reminded myself, he owns her the same way the guys own me. Chills danced up my spine at the thought and I quickened my pace behind Elle, trying not to show how obviously I was watching everything.
“So, you’re engaged to Patrick?” she asked chipperly, guiding me into the ballroom.
“Yup, it’s new so we haven’t told many people yet.”
“Aw, congratulations, he deserves it – he was always such a sweetie.”
He is. “Do you have a boyfriend or husband?”
She laughed. “You met him, Ike O’Connell? He and I got married eight months ago.”
What! “Seriously?” I asked, stumbling over my own feet as I fought to get around a couple groping each other. “I had no idea.”
“Oh yeah, Ike and I met two years ago through Jon and it was basically love at first sight.”
She came to a stop and I nearly ran into her. On the stage, there was a man with elaborate horns and wings, jerking off as he cracked his whip. It was Ike. Even in the darked room, I could see his gorgeous emerald eyes reflecting in the light from the fire. His dark skin glistened with sweat and I ran my tongue over my teeth subconsciously, just taking in his beautiful body. Lucky girl…
“Congratulations to you,” I murmured.
She grinned and looped her arm through mine. “Thanks, quite the catch if I say so myself.”
“Where did you meet Jon – if you don’t mind my asking anyway.”
“Oh we met at Bower and Rosing,” she answered, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, not officially. We actually met in a bar chatted each other up. Nothing happened, but I started working the front desk there a few weeks later and we got to know each other better. We hooked up a few times and one thing led to another and we ended up here. I agreed to stay for a week and that’s how I met Ike, since he was supposed to be my trainer when Jon wasn’t there.”
“It’s like a club,” I joked. “We all meet each other through work.”
She laughed again and nodded enthusiastically. “Pretty much. I actually fucked Patrick first and way more frequently but outside of sex we didn’t get along much. He was a shit Dom back then.”
“He’s really great now, at least, I think he is. I don’t have much to compare it to.”
Elle blew a kiss to Ike who winked back at her as she continued dragging me along. Touch-A Touch-A played over the speakers, making the walls vibrate with the sound of Susan Sarandon’s voice.
“Is Patrick your first Dom?” she asked as we fought to get to the front of a thick crowd. “Or Jon?”
“Both actually,” I countered. “Jon was technically my first, then Pat.”
“That would be a great introduction,” she replied sagely. “Honestly, Jon was always great, especially with aftercare and what not. Christine taught him well.”
Her name set my teeth on edge but I chose not to say anything. The crowd thinned enough for us to get to the front and I realized that we were in the Rocky Horror room. Several curtains were set up to show us only the silhouettes of the people having sex. This room was pure eroticism, and it was gorgeous. The couples were sensual and romantic with each other as they kissed and touched. We could only see the bare minimum, but I could see why this display was one of the most popular.
Display… I wonder... “Do they have anything in the Display room set up?” I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the others.
She glanced at me. “They do, but it’s a little creepy – it’s a mirror maze.”
“Sign me the fuck up,” I replied excitedly, this time dragging her along with me back to the front of the mansion.
Elle laughed and we quickly found ourselves in the start of the maze. The room, like the rest was mostly pitch black, with only a few strategically placed candles on the floor in front of mirrors, to guide us around. She held onto my hand tightly and we moved as slow as possible, gawking at the two-way mirrors that had people on the other side. One woman was getting fucked from behind, a man jerked off onto the face of his female slave, one woman fingered another while roughly kissing her, a man masturbated alone with bright pink panties wrapped around his cock.
I pressed myself back on Eloise, feeling myself getting overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of moaning, skin on skin, and cries of ecstasy.
“Which one do you like more?” she whispered close to my ear.
The husky sound of her voice and the warmth of her breath made me shiver despite myself. “U-um, I don’t have a favourite. I love them both.”
“Even when they fuck you?” she teased with a light giggle. “I won’t tell anyone. I always liked Jon more – he stayed in character better, he wasn’t just about being a sadistic asshole.”
I shook my head. “I like that Patrick’s dick is thicker than Jon’s but they both make me feel really good.”
“Thickness is nothing compared to Jon going at someone from behind,” she said dreamily. “Even Ike can’t do that for me the way Jon always could. From behind, legs together, face in the pillow. Fuck, I wouldn’t walk for the rest of the night after he did that to me.”
Jon did like to fuck doggy style; it meant he could get his entire cock inside me for once. He tried to goad me a few times into putting my thighs together while he did it, but the one time he did that, I thought I was never going to walk again. It was a combination of being too tight and deep that made me uncomfortable. I had to admit that I was kind of jealous that Elle liked it so much.
“I wish,” I mumbled to myself. “No, I honestly love it with both of them, they always find new ways to keep it interesting.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you find new ways to keep it interesting for myself?”
“I usually just go along with what they come up with.” Was that bad?
“You should explore stuff yourself too and introduce it into the bedroom,” she advised. “It’s always nice to discover your sexuality without someone’s help, you know? Plus, it help keep things fresh.”
I’d never really thought of it that way, I’d just enjoyed the ride they were taking me on. A man moaned loudly, pulling me from my thoughts and drawing our attention just as he came, shooting thick ropes of cum across the mirrored glass.
“Was Jon your first Dom?” I asked as I admired the man’s handiwork.
“I had a friends with benefits type of relationship with a girl in my apartment building who introduced me to it, actually. She was more submissive than dominant, but it opened me up to a lot of things.”
“Is everyone here bisexual?” I asked randomly.
She laughed again, much louder this time. “No, not by a long shot. There are a lot of guys here that are super protective of how straight they are, and plenty of women who are grossed out by the rest of us. Ike is straight, I’m bi, I know Jon is bi, and last I heard, Pat was straight, but I’m guessing that label is a little more lax for him now.”
I grinned to myself and looked away as we exited the maze. “Yeah, it was pretty recent for him but he admits it now.”
“What about you?” she asked suddenly.
“Bisexual?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah, it’s not that outlandish to ask.” As Elle spoke, she gestured to a free couch.
I took a seat next to her and lounged backwards, wincing at the boning in my corset reminded me to sit up straight. “I’m straight, my bestie is pansexual.”
Elle’s eyebrows rose and she stopped a man walking by for two drinks. “I never would have guessed,” she said finally.
I took the glass from her and sniffed it delicately. “Does this have alcohol in it?” I asked cautiously.
She shook her head. “No, the trays they walk around with are just punch, don’t worry.”
Thank god. I sipped the punch tentatively, preparing myself for the tang this time. “What did you mean by that?”
“About you being straight?”
“Yeah.”
“Lydia, I’ve been watching you stare at women all night. You could barely take your eyes off the girl tied to the bed, and then again in the hall of mirrors you couldn’t stop staring at the lesbians.”
And? “Women are pretty, it’s not a crime.”
She shook her head and laughed silently. “I didn’t say it was, you’re the one trying to defend yourself.”
Was I? I glanced over at another, much more provocative, Playboy Bunny. My eyes immediately locked on her tits and I found myself obsessed with the wetness of her bright pink lingerie, how it clung to her pussy and how something ran down her inner thigh. Probably cum. My thoughts drifted to Jon, on his knees in front of me on the boat in Poland, eating me out after Pat came inside me, or the night we got engaged and I filmed him doing the same thing, he even had me sit on his face. What would that taste like? I liked licking their fingers after they were inside my cunt, would it be different from someone elses? Maybe I just wanted to see them with someone else. I mean, they’d seen me with plenty of other people…
“Maybe it’s a little more than that,” I admitted reluctantly. “But I don’t know. I’ve never questioned it before.”
Maybe Eloise could hear the curiosity in my voice, maybe she was being presumptuous, or maybe I had been trying to lead her on all along and didn’t realize it. Whatever it was, she surged forward in her seat to kiss my cheek. In shock, I turned to her, and instantly her lips found mine.
I’d kissed Allie once at a party, the same one where I lost my virginity, and we never spoke of it again, but Eloise didn’t feel anything like she had. Her lips were softer, her fingers lingered on my cheek and coaxed me to open my mouth, letting her tongue find mine. She tasted like sugar and was tangy from the lemonade. She didn’t push me to go further, but I found my hand coming up to rake through her long, dark hair.
She eventually pulled away and I drew in several shaky breaths at her absence. Did I have to tell the guys? What would they say? Fuck me.
“Well?” she asked, her dark eyes glittering wickedly. “Was it terrible?”
“Awful,” I answered with a huff. “Horrible. In fact, I might need to do it again just to get the taste of it out of my mouth.”
She giggled and reached for me again, there was no preamble with it this time – her tongue explored my mouth and I moaned against her, clutching at the nape of her neck while her fingers dug into my thigh insistently.
“Eloise, are you corrupting my pet?”
Shit! I pulled away quickly and clamped a hand over my mouth at the sight of Pat standing there. His arms were crossed over his black vest and his hat was pulled low, casting shadows over his eyes. He’d left his jacket somewhere and, in the vest and loose white dress shirt, he looked very Victorian and fuckable.
“Having fun?” he asked salaciously.
I nodded and wiped my mouth, feeling the fire on my cheeks.
“She’s cute, you’re very lucky, Mr. Rosing,” Eloise purred as she toyed with my hair.
Pat smirked and checked his watch. “Daddy’s waiting for us upstairs, kitten. Do you want to bring your new friend?”
Ohmigod. I looked to Eloise, completely at a loss for words. Was that something I was interested in now? Like, right this minute? When else will I have this opportunity? I didn’t have to say yes, but I did. The minute the word left my mouth, Patrick hauled me to my feet and the two of them led me back to the foyer and upstairs. I was in a haze, feeling lost and dirty and completely confused. What if I didn’t like sex with a woman? What if I didn’t like Pat and Jon fetishizing it? I fetishized them, I could admit that, but this was new for me and I wasn’t doing anything behind their back’s ahead of time.
I didn’t try and stop either Pat or Elle as they opened up the bedroom door for me and guided me into the room. Jon was waiting for us and already shirtless. He grabbed me and kissed me hard, holding me to his chest while he undid the fastenings on my outfit. I moaned under his onslaught and dug my fingers into the muscles of his arms, needing to ground myself to him for clarity.
“You brought a friend,” he whispered huskily. “A female friend.”
“She was telling me how much she like fucking you,” I whispered back. “I thought she would be a nice early birthday present.”
He chuckled and pushed my costume to the ground before quickly pulling off my tights. “My birthday wish is to see you make her your bitch. Don’t let me down, baby girl.”
His birthday wasn’t for three weeks, but who was I to say no. I turned on my heel to see Eloise kneeling on the bed and waiting expectantly. She was naked, probably courteously of Pat. The music made the floor vibrate under my bare feet and I felt the room fade out as I approached the bed, crawling across it to the woman.
I knew the guys were watching me, getting off on me doing this, but all I could think of was how pretty and long her hair was as it pooled on the bed around her, how much I would love to sink my fingers into it and how tanned her skin was. A gold brown hue, with chocolate coloured hair and a dark gaze that made my heart beat faster.
I reached for her and we fell back on the bed, lost in each other as we kissed. Her hair was silky, but her skin was softer, and away from all the other people downstairs, I could smell the rose scent of her perfume. My hands roamed her body curiously, just feeling her breasts, and the dip of her hip bones before her pussy. My fingers froze as they reached her bush, which I was weirdly fixated on, and just barely stroked over my slit.
“Take your time,” she whispered into my ear. “Don’t rush for them – they don’t matter right now.”
No, they didn’t. We rolled over completely and I straddled her waist, still kissing her and letting my hair fall down and hide us from the men. Her hands slipped over my hips and up my sides, delicately massaging the grooves the boning made in my skin. My pussy was on fire, I could feel the wetness dampening my slit.
“Do you want me to go first?” she asked, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes.
“That would probably help,” I answered sheepishly.
Eloise giggled and pushed me over. Her mouth found my nipples first, kissing and sucking them gently. When her lips closed around the sensitive peaks and her tongue flicked over them, hot and fast, I arched myself against her and moaned softly. She knew exactly how to work me up; one hand playing with the nipple she wasn’t currently sucking on, the other teasing my pussy. I spread my legs wider, hoping she would go further, but she didn’t.
Instead, she moved slowly down the length of me and pushed my legs back while she kissed the soft spot above my folds. The second her lips touched me, I jumped and felt my heart start to pound even harder in my chest. But then her tongue parted me with absolutely no warning. I gasped and clutched at her hair as she held the back of my thighs, letting her tongue swirl languidly around my clit, bringing me dangerously close to the edge so soon.
Her fingers suddenly delved into my pussy, seeking my g-spot, and I cried out as a small orgasm washed over my body. My eyes were squeezed shut and I rocked my hips against her mouth, relishing in the feel of her expertly getting me off. There was a feeling I couldn’t explain, a knowledge that there wasn’t any sort of expectations between us that made it feel different. She wasn’t doing this just to make me wet so she could fuck me, she wasn’t doing this to reciprocate, she just wanted to make me feel good – something that I didn’t feel that often when I was with my guys. And I wanted to return the favour.
I had just reached the edge again when I roughly pulled her off me and pinned her to the mattress, roughly going after her tits – biting and nipping at them while she squirmed and whimpered under me. I loved the way she sounded; delicate and soft and completely different from any man that I had been with. My excitement started to mount, once I was certain that she would have a hickey or two on her chest, I moved down to her pussy, only pausing momentarily at the dark hair covering her snatch. Well, it’s natural, just go with it.
I dove face first between her legs, pulling them over my shoulder as my tongue delved through her soft pubic hair. I didn’t wait to finger her like she did with me, I wanted her to feel good and there was no need to work up to it when we had all night. She tasted different, but not in a bad way, it was still salty and tangy and the heady aroma made my head spin, but it was like an aphrodisiac. The more her wetness coated my tongue and fingers, the harder I worked to get her off, listening to her cries to guide me in the right direction. It was when she was almost screaming that I pulled my digits out and shoved them into her waiting mouth, making her taste herself the way the men often did to me. Where are they? Were they really just going to let us play and not even try to join in? A sudden smack on my ass made me gasp and answered my question. They were done watching.
“Do you like the taste of that slut’s cunt, kitten?” Master whispered in my ear, pulling me back by my hair. “Keep licking.”
He shoved me back down between her legs and I quickly followed orders while he got me up on my knees with my legs spread, face down in her pussy. My arms wrapped around her thighs and my fingers dug into her skin as I lazily traced figure eights over her clit.
Master groped between my legs gruffly, spreading my wetness around and pushing his cock against my entrance. Yes!Daddy must have been with Elle based on the choking sounds I heard, but I didn’t have time to focus on it before I was gasping and crying out myself. My Master was in me to the hilt, completely sheathed in my pussy and was fucking me like he didn’t care if I liked it. His thrusts were hard and unforgiving, and all it did was make me wetter at his callousness.
I tried to focus on Eloise, I really did, but her pleasure started to drift from my mind and soon Jon pulled her away, clearly wanting to take advantage of his opportunity. I peeked up at him as my nails raked against the sheets, watching him position Eloise until she was exactly how he wanted her. She fell back against the mattress beside me; her eyes wide and mouth swollen. I pulled her to me, kissing her gently while she clutched at my hair.
We gasped and moaned against each other, biting at the others lips when one of the men was unexpectedly brutal. My hands played with her tits while she tried and failed to reach my clit. Master kept spanking my ass hard, ordering me to thank him and threatening to fuck my ass for Elle to watch if I didn’t make her feel good. There so much and I felt overwhelmed by everything around me, but I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
When I came again, my whole body shook and I pulled away from the other woman to scream into the sheets, desperately trying to ride the waves of pleasure as they rocked through me. The room seemed fuzzy after that. I could see Daddy turning Eloise over, clamping his hand over her throat, and I could feel Master fisting his hand in my hair and pulling it while he rode me, but it was all background to me as I dropped into my own world.
My Master suddenly forced me against the bed, groaning loudly as he came and clutching me to him. I could see a minute later when Daddy came, the way Eloise’s eyes widened and the sharp cry she gave as her back arched and his grip on her throat tightened. I smiled to myself. It always feels good. It didn’t matter which one, when they used you, they made it worth your while.
There laughter as they pulled away and I watched her sweep her sweaty hair back as she gazed at me and started to giggle. I laughed too, feeling silly and happy and extremely glad to have come all the way here.
My eyes drifted down her body and I pushed myself up and crawled towards her, eyeing her well-fucked cunt. If Daddy likes it, maybe I will too. I settled between her legs and leaned forward, my tongue touched her and she gasped, spreading her legs again for me. Daddy’s cum dribbled down her slit I latched my mouth onto her, throwing myself completely into the act. She pushed my head down and raised her hips, moaning shamelessly as I cleaned her up.
My face was soaked when I finally crawled back up and laid my head down on her sweaty stomach, watching the guys from our spot on the bed. They sat at the table and watched me in return as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smiled.
Patrick smirked and brought his phone out, clearly going to take a picture. Jon grinned widely and got his smokes out. I hoped they didn’t think I was done for the night.