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Though she could tell he was offering it out of hunger, and as a continuation of an apology for dinner, a way to make amends, she liked those reasons. Violet also liked the idea of having him serve her pussy in sight of his previous Mistress. A branding that, while outside the bounds of civilized behavior, loosened the tension within her further.
"Mistress, may I?" His mouth was even with her thighs, the breath tickling the sensitive skin.
"You may." She whispered it.
Mac's eyes flared hot, and he put his hands on her knees. Tanned, rough male palms against the white delicate inner thighs slid forward, nudging them further apart. She leaned back on her arms to accommodate him and he raised her legs onto his shoulders as he dropped lower into the water. Her heels floated, grazing his back.
She had imagined that he would be very, very good at this. With the first touch of his mouth on her, she knew she'd understated it. He didn't move the crotch of the swimsuit right away. He breathed on her, heating her, then put his mouth over the wet fabric, sucking the moisture of the pool off of it, through the fibers, creating pressure and suction on the enervated skin beneath that throbbed in response at the moment of first contact. The reaction rocketed through her body, tensing every muscle, digging her heels down in the water into his back.
No way was she going to be able to stay in an upright position. As if her mind was being read, hands closed over her upper arms. Mark held her, giving her back support. She guessed that Tyler was helping her test the lesson of dinner. True to Tyler's ironic sense of humor, Mark held a towel.
Mac's attention lifted. Remarkably, Violet watched Mark lower his gaze, acknowledging Mac's dominance over the situation.
"Only to give your Mistress ease as you pleasure her," he murmured.
Mac gave an imperceptible nod, settled back to what he was doing, tiny nibbles on her pussy, his hands stroking the inside of her thighs even as he held them open, countering that strange impulse to close them against the wave of pleasure screaming through her nerves. She had thought about how his well-groomed beard and moustache would feel against her inner thighs and pussy, and now she trembled at the additional overpowering sensations, the alternate rough and soft brush of the hair against her tender skin as he moved his head.
Violet lay back into the solid wall of Mark's chest as he sat down, his thighs on either side of her, his groin pressed nicely against her lower back, but her focus was all on the man working between her legs. His tongue, teeth and lips driving her to insanity, making her twist against the gentle but unshakable restraint of his hands holding her spread wide to his pleasuring.
She gasped when his finger slipped under the cotton crotch, pulled it aside, and he slid his tongue into her. A slow unfurling so she felt it push past the labia, sample the moist heat within, flicker so he tickled the inside channel, while the broader part of his tongue pushed up, rolled against her clit.
"Ah..." She couldn't get a breath. He was barely moving his mouth, and yet every slight altering of position was rocketing through her as if he were working her like a steam engine.
Through glazed eyes, she saw how they were affecting everyone else. Tyler had brought Leila out of the pool and onto her knees to serve him in a like fashion, a mirror image across the pool from Violet, only he sat in a chair and she knelt on a towel he'd folded and provided for the comfort of her knees. He stroked Leila's hair as he watched them, and Violet's attention drifted to the girl's pale buttocks, moving rhythmically with the bobbing of her head on his cock, her back to Violet. Leila's pussy glistened with a liquid heat that had nothing to do with the pool.
Lisbeth had made David sit next to her knee and watch both sets of oral play. She had commanded him to maturbate himself as he watched, though Violet heard her firm murmured command. "You will stroke yourself until I command you to stop, but you are not permitted to come, because I want to save all that lovely seed of yours for me."
Collin was back on all fours serving his two demanding Mistresses. They had rebound his cock in a tight harness, the back strap threaded through the gold ring pierced through his scrotum and attached to two leashes. Water still dripped off his body as they had him go back and forth, pulling aside the crotches of the matching black string bikinis so he could eat each pussy in turn while the unencumbered twin tugged idly at the piercing with her leash, giving him no relief. Both of the twins watched Violet and Mac intently with those liquid dark eyes. As Collin brought his mouth away from one cunt and took lips moist with one sister's arousal to the other, Violet wondered anew at the familial relationship between T&K.
Then any idle thought was blasted away as Mac set his teeth lightly to her clit, abruptly holding steady there. Just a bare increase of pressure as he smoothly thrust his tongue in and out of her, lapping her moisture up, until all she could see was a sparkling white haze that rose off the water, obliterating everything but the sense of immersion in sexual heat, of being surrounded by it, inhaling it. His hands tightened on her thighs even as she fought him, fought the reaction that seemed to be rushing down too hard, too strong.
"Come for me, Mistress," he muttered. "Please, God."
His actions became audible, a sucking, appreciative noise that did her in, as all her senses were impacted, hearing, feeling, seeing, his head working hard over her, his heated breath, the flex of his shoulders. Tyler's hand tightening on Leila's head, forcing her down harder on him. The rasp of David's breath, his panicked expression as he knew he was coming close and his apprehension that he couldn't stop. The smack as Kiera brought the leash into play, strapping the loose end smartly across Collin's tight ass. He obediently raised it higher as he had been trained to do, displaying the glint of the scrotum ring and asking for more as he kept up his rhythmic licking of her sister's cunt. Tamara's long fingered hands gripped his head, her body rising up on the lounge chair, close to climax.
Violet beat her there. She arched back abruptly, Mark's strength increasing on her upper arms as she screamed, thrashing against the strength of two men strong enough to hold her still, let her feel every sensitive movement of Mac's lips as her pussy convulsed, rippled, contracted against him with the force of an orgasm so hard her vision grayed. Her heels kicked, splashed water, thumped hard against his back and still he held on, his mouth fucking her as she bucked, even as her pussy got so tight with her response that it was a screaming pleasure to feel the thrust of his tongue, over and over.
She came down with soft cries, like a runner gasping to catch her breath as she crossed the finish line. The orgasm spun away, its aftermath like that of a full body massage, leaving every muscle limp, her heart pounding against her chest like a hammer. He became still, his mouth sealed over her pussy, his tongue still deep within her, but not moving, as if knowing she couldn't bear any movement, even her own. Her involuntary twitches and quivers brought more soft whimpers from her lips. She put a trembling hand to his hair, curled her fingers into it, partly a caress, partly to just hold on, connect to him. Be one with him.
Mac lifted his head at the pressure of her fingers, and before she could give him an order not to take liberties, any order at all, he had moved up, sliding her legs off his shoulders, and crushed his mouth over hers, his hand cupped to the back of her head. Her hands fluttered helplessly to his shoulders as he devoured her, let her taste herself and his own raging hunger. She was distantly conscious of Mark, still pressed against her back, separated from Mac only by the width of her own body, but then he slid away discreetly, and there was only Mac, his arms coming around her to hold her up, hold her to him.
Fortunately, she had enough brain cells to stop her beloved slave when he tried to draw her back into the water.
"No," she murmured, pushing against his shoulder. He was more than strong enough to resist her, of course, but this was about strength of will, not his ability to bench press three times her weight. She knew that Mac's subconscious knew that, even if his conscious awareness didn't, for he stopped the moment she spoke. He did not let her go immediately, though, his body still and explosive as a lion before leaping for prey.
He reached between them, his gaze on her face, and pressed the towel to her vibrating pussy, absorbing the moisture there. Violet arched, her breath catching, her fingers digging into his shoulders. With some amusement, she wondered exactly when the t
owel had been transferred. Mac adjusted the crotch of her swimsuit back over her, his fingers brushing her still swollen clit, and then he stepped back, his fingers trailing down her calves and ankles, reluctant to break the connection. A moment later, he finished the formal retreat by deliberately lowering his glance from hers in an expression of deference. It tightened the emotion and need squeezing her chest to the point of pain.
"Dearest?"
Violet looked up, found Tyler above her, offering a hand, his touch on her shoulder a reassuring anchor. He looked a little flushed himself, suggesting Leila had served him well, but Violet thought he looked far more composed than she felt. But then, Leila didn't seem intent on smashing out the foundation blocks of Tyler's conception of life.
"Would you like to take a stroll in the garden, see my new orchids?"
Chapter 11
Translation: Get some breathing space before your brain cells explode?
