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Deana twisted her head and could barely make out Lord Devon and Lady Isabella from the corners of her eyes. She felt the bed sink with Rockwell’s weight. He was kneeling behind her. Once more she felt his hand between her legs. With a delighted moan, she parted her legs further to allow him full access. He fondled the nub of flesh at the gates of her womanhood, coaxing from her that clear honey of desire. With his other hand, he caressed the curve of her rump. He swatted one cheek. His next blow landed a little heavier, but nothing to make her jump. She was more engrossed in the delightful sensations being generated between her legs. He strummed her clitoris while pressing his thumb upon a raised and sensitive area inside of her. Wonderful, agonizing tension flared deep and hot inside of her.
Whap!
Devon had applied the paddle to Lady Isabella, who screamed. Both Rockwell and Deana stilled.
Whap!
Another scream.
The paddle was thicker and harder than the tails of a flogger, Deana considered. Rockwell resumed his fondling, and she forgot her concerns. Would he let her spend? Could she spend before witnesses?
Yes, oh yes, she answered herself when his ministrations intensified. He slapped her derriere with his hand. The bright sting felt delicious. Awash in that tangled mix of pain and pleasure, she felt her ascent looming.
But then he let fall the paddle, and she heard her own scream.
The pain was large and penetrating. She heard a steady rain of slaps from the other side of the room.
“Stop! Please stop!” Isabella cried. “Ah!”
Deana hoped her ladyship screamed for effect. She hoped Lady Isabella remembered the safety word.
The paddle struck the bottom of her own buttock, and Deana gritted her teeth. Rockwell attended to her cunnie once more. Moaning, she reveled in his skills as he took her body through that blissful craving. The sounds from the other side of the room blurred with her increased desire, her increased need for release. He rubbed her more intensely, making her toes curl. She prayed he would not stop. Her cries became ones of urgency and anticipation.
But just as she approached the precipice, he withdrew his hand and once more applied the paddle. It smarted, but she was more intent on her release. She pushed her cunnie at him, wanting him to finish the job. He spanked her once more with the paddle.
“Ah! Please...” she groaned.
On the other side of the room, Lord Devon discarded the paddle and lay upon his back, his head between Lady Isabella’s thighs. He pulled her cunnie down to his face.
Lady Isabella looked as if her eyes might pop from their sockets, but then her eyelids lowered as she realized the pleasure from Lord Devon’s efforts. Deana and Rockwell both paused to observe her.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Isabella cried, then shuddered as paroxysms of ecstasy overcame her.
Filled with envy, Deana implored Rockwell to continue, arching her back and pushing her backside toward him.
“Are you offering your arse or your cunnie?” he asked in response to her movements.
“Please finish the deed,” she murmured.
He caressed her sodden flesh, then buried his cock inside of her.
Glory! Her cunnie took him in hungrily. He sank the full length of his cock into her. She closed her eyes and marveled at the fullness between her legs. Circling an arm around her hip, he played with her clitoris. It did not take long for her to become undone. His thick, hard rod filling her combin
ed with the stimulation of her clitoris shot her over the precipice. She shattered into spasms, losing all control of her limbs.
She had yet to recover when he began his next assault. He bucked against her, holding her up by the waist. His scrotum slapped against her nether lips. She felt the hair at his groin against her arse as he drove himself deep inside of her. At first there was some discomfort as her first wave receded, blocked in part by another coming wave. As the second grew in size, she felt herself awash once more. His cock pommelled into her cunnie with increasing speed.
“My God! My God!” she screamed.
Her body crashed into the heavens. All else became nothing.
* * * * *
When Deana settled back down, she became vaguely aware that Rockwell had pulled out of her. Her legs had buckled beneath her and she lay prone upon the bed. She heard panting and grunting from the other side of the room. Prying open her eyes, she saw Devon buried inside Isabella, pounding her into the mattress. With a howl, Devon found his release and collapsed onto the bed.
Rockwell got off the bed, and Deana saw his cock was still stiff. Why had he not pushed himself to spend? Did he find her unsatisfactory somehow? Did he not wish to impose upon her now that she had finished? Or was he somehow saving himself for Lady Isabella? She watched Rockwell approach Lady Isabella and release the shackles from her wrists. She turned onto her side and lay beside Lord Devon.
Returning, Rockwell then removed the shackles form Deana. She sat up and rubbed her wrists as Rockwell gathered his clothes. He stepped into his trousers and pulled on his shirt. Assisting her off the bed, he assumed the role of chambermaid and helped her into her shift, stays, and gown. The rest he slung over an arm. He looked over at Lady Isabella and Lord Devon, who had begun to snore in his sleep.
