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"Noah is going to go down on you." Lyda leaned forward further, her beautiful hair curtaining Gen's face. Reaching up, Gen threaded her fingers through it, pleased with the thick softness. Lyda studied Gen's fingers on her hair. The look on her face was pleasure, laced with a reserve that told Gen she'd considered ordering her to put her hands down. But Gen wasn't here as a sub or a Domme. Certain liberties would be allowed. At least right now.
"Noah is going to eat your pussy, drive you to insanity," Lyda continued in that melted-sugar voice. "But he's not going to let you come. Not until you beg me to take you home with me tonight."
That was blackmail. Extortion. Something nefarious. Before she could argue, though, Noah's tongue slid over the crotch of Gen's panties, teasing her pussy through the silk fabric.
"He's a master at this. He compares it to martial arts positions, giving names to different strokes, positions, rhythms. Hummingbird, Flowing Water... He'll tell you all that nonsense sometime when his mouth isn't otherwise occupied."
Noah had a finger occupied as well, because he'd caught the edge of the panties, eased them aside, so that metal stud was sliding up her bare labia. It made her thigh muscles strain. Lyda's thumbs and forefingers captured Gen's nipples. It started as a light hold, but then became an increasingly firmer pinch. As the discomfort increased, the coil low in her belly got tighter, and she found she didn't want Lyda to ease off, as if the pain was feeding into the pleasure, making it bittersweet. Gen arched into her touch.
"That's it. Thrust those lovely tits up at me." Lyda tugged harder on her nipples, as if she was pulling Gen up by that hold. Gen gasped, her head pressing against the firm pillow of Lyda's breasts, Lyda's shoulder. Which also pushed her pussy against Noah's face, increasing the sensation there. Noah shifted his position. It was as if he was teasing her with light fingers, only this was his tongue against flesh, wet heat.
She moaned. "That first sweet taste," he murmured. He slid his hands under her buttocks, digging into the satin of the panties as he pressed his thumbs on either side of the labia, a compression she felt in her clit. When he spoke again, she strained to hear him, even as everything he did made it more difficult to focus her senses.
"This is called...bee on a flower. Following the stem, every petal, to the center, where your honey is sweetest..." The tongue stud pressed one single point, and sensation exploded in her core, bucking her up against him in an unexpected flow of motion he nevertheless anticipated, his sure hands holding her. The stud began making a light buzz, and that sensation skyrocketed. A desperate sound broke from her lips. Now she found just how strong Noah was, because his hands held her fast, didn't let her move more than an inch as he played with her.
"Hold there. Ssshh. Just ride it." Lyda's hair brushed her face again, and Gen's wild gaze flicked up to her. Lyda looked as caught up in Gen's pleasure as she herself was, in a different way. Gen panted, attention latched onto Lyda's mouth, the moist lips, the gloss there.
"Do you need a kiss, Gen?"
Gen nodded and then her body twisted hard as Noah's tongue slid right up beneath the clit. He swirled a tight circle there, then pushed deep into her cunt. The rate of vibration had become more intense. She felt it everywhere, through all the delicate tissues and veins, those layers of flesh like the juicy inside of a ripe fruit when like this. That was probably what he called this maneuver...ripe fruit...
"Ask me nicely." Lyda's intent face was over her, eyes demanding.
"Please..." She couldn't call her Mistress. Could she? She wasn't sure. Fortunately the please was enough.
Lyda bent, and Gen kept her eyes open, wanting to see this time. Lyda's lips pressed against hers, an exploratory caress, soft but not too soft. A woman's kiss wasn't as girly as Gen had expected. Maybe because Lyda didn't kiss the way Gen did, a yielding of her lips to the pressure of the lover's. Lyda held her mouth firm, so it was Gen's mouth that became more pliant, gave way, trembled, as Lyda's tongue slid along her lips, entered her mouth, and then her lips sealed over Gen's, making the kiss strong and sure, sweeping her away. Seeking an anchor, Gen tangled her fingers in Lyda's silky red locks. Lyda's hand locked over her wrist, holding her there.
It was an amazing mix, Lyda's female beauty so close, her hair brushing Gen's cheeks and temples, her lips on her own, while Noah's five o'clock shadow rasped against Gen's inner thighs. Male and female, integrated. Noah wasn't the type of male Gen knew, the kind she treated with wariness. Even so, she didn't think Noah alone could have coaxed her into this position, for the simple reason that Gen's vulnerabilities had been past prey for male attentions, not female. Noah was under Lyda's command. Somewhat. Was that why it was easier for her to let go like this?
Any intelligent thoughts were driven away as Noah shifted once more, flattening his upper body on the loveseat. His chin scraped her perineum as he flicked and worried her clit, making her hips gyrate like a carnival ride, her hand clamped on Lyda's thigh. Lyda curved her fingers into the spaces between, unlatching Gen from her leg to form a hard knot. She did it with the other hand as well. But as Noah continued his torturous magic, Lyda shifted her grip to Gen's wrists. She drew her arms back past Lyda's hips until her knuckles were pressed against the couch arm, as if Gen's hands were being restrained behind Lyda's back. Lyda's upper body pressed more firmly into her shoulder blades, arching Gen further.
She was soaked, Noah likely getting a wealth of the honey he'd described on his tongue and lips as he drove her higher. How wet was Lyda? What would happen if Gen turned over, pressed Lyda back on the sofa, buried her face in Lyda's pussy the way Noah was buried in hers?
"Ahhh..." Gen let out another cry as Noah did a new amazing thing between her legs. Lyda remained bent attentively over Gen's face. Her lips were moist from kissing Gen.
She was so close...or not. Her body thrashed on the couch as Noah teased her. Her hips lifted again, pussy wet and begging. The arch of her body displayed her naked breasts, the stiff tips, for Lyda, Noah, anyone watching. It didn't matter. Seeing Lyda study them with proprietary detachment was a hungry thrill she couldn't explain.
I'll keep you safe...
Everything Noah was doing to her, Lyda saw as something she had the right to command, Gen's body her possession. Gen could see it in her intent look, feel it in Lyda's touch. Maybe it was just a feeling-of-the-moment, but it had an overwhelming effect on Gen's senses.
The climax coiled like an unhappy, frantic snake, thwarted in its strike. She tried to follow Noah's mouth, to force the issue. He held her down, teasing her labia with dragging strokes of his tongue, creating patterns with the tongue stud, here, there. When he lifted her up enough to trace a firm line up her perineum, such that she felt the vibration of the tongue stud in her rim, a scream tore from her throat.
"Please..."
"Please, what, Gen? Beg me for what I want, or you won't come."
"Please..." She tossed her head back and forth. Noah's fingers bit into her thighs, his hair brushing them as he nipped them then went back to her pussy, tonguing her deep once more, a thrusting penetration, a swirling lick inside. He made a slow excavation, sliding up toward her clit, under the hood, putting pressure there. Oh God, she was going to die from all the sensation. That tongue stud vibrated, lashed over her clit, making her crazy. Spots came into her vision, but he had the skill to hold everything else out of reach. Until Lyda got what she wanted.
What Gen wanted.
"Please...I want to come home with you. You and Noah. Please."
"That's your pussy talking. You just want to come."
Noah did something then that took her so close to orgasm tears threatened. Her throat worked, fingers clawing at the side of the couch. Christ, the woman was strong. Gen was straining against her grip on her wrists with all her might, not to get away, but just in reaction to what Noah was doing, and making no headway at all. Her agitated gaze rolled over Lyda's smooth biceps. They were firm, unyielding, like the woman herself. Gen wanted to put her mouth on them, on Lyda's neck, on the rise of those beautiful breasts above the corset. She was so beautiful. To feel like this all night, to be beyond thought, lost in whatever Lyda demanded, in Noah's touch...
"No...please. I want to be with you...both."
