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I eat a little, I drink a fair bit, I preside over the conversation and receive obliges, all with Rhea’s tight arse right over my aching cock.
I was about to call for a plate and cutlery for her, but I quite liked her nibbling from mine, so I let her carry on. Besides, she let me lick her fingers when she’s done. By dessert, I’m desperate to get a real taste of her.
And I will very soon.
Rhea savors the sweet mousse, scooping up every morsel.
“Like that?” I make a mental note to ensure the chef includes it in his regular rotation for the time being.
She bobs her head enthusiastically.
“How would you like to lick it from my cock?” I don’t lower my voice.
She flushes, more out of anger than embarrassment. "At least there'll be something enjoyable about it."
She really doesn't know how to help herself, does she?
"You don't like sucking my cock?" I feign astonishment. "And here I thought I remembered you moaning all around it."
"That's called faking. You men tend to be done with us faster when you believe we're enjoying your pleasure. It's sad you don't know that."
I press my lips to her shoulder, either to apologize for what I'm about to do, or because I can't seem to help myself. "I think we're going to have to test this theory properly, with witnesses to vote on the outcome. On your knees, darling Rhea."
She stares at me in complete and utter shock. "What?" Her eyes flutter to the court, chattering in their seats.
Poor little proud beauty. "I don't believe I stuttered."
I could tell her that in order to appease my council, we would have ended exactly here even if she'd been as pleasant as she's capable of. If anything, I'm grateful she opted for a spectacularly immature show of peevishness all evening. If she'd been sweet, I would have felt sorry for her.
Slowly, with a remarkable glower leveled at me, her eyes on fire, she complies, and goes as far as fiddling with my belt buckle, to open my pants herself, unprompted. It takes her a while, but she manages.
Vessorian hands me his untouched dessert.
"How obliging," I say, smirking gratefully. "But I don't believe our research would be accurate. Why, Rhea might get wet for pudding rather than my cock, don't you think?" I set his plate down, and cup the delicate chin of her heart-shaped face. "Don't worry, darling. You can have it after you've sucked all my seed off."
I let go, my hand moving behind her neck and guiding her face toward the cock pointing right at her lips.
The entire hall's attention's fixed on us. They can see her just fine under the long wood table even with the cloth draping it, as she works her skilled mouth up and down my shaft.
Rhea treats my cock like it's nothing but a staff she's been tasked with polishing thoroughly with her tongue, making a point of remaining as removed from her actions as possible. I pity her for believing that'd work. If she were anyone else, anything else, it just might. But the blood in her veins betrays her, demanding everything I have to offer and more.
Her hot eager mouth dips lower yet, widening to take me deeper, the tip of my cock hitting the softness inside her throat. She slobbers and moans over it.
“You’re just so good at this.” I stroke her hair as I praise her, my hips swaying back and forth. “I suppose we can put it down to practice. You must have sucked so many cocks to get this proficient in your trade, my gorgeous whore.”
Rhea’s eyes shoot a thousand daggers in my direction, and my cock hardens in response. I can’t help it. I’m so used to women wanting me, and taking me as they’d like. She’s a breath of fresh air. I realize enjoying her reluctance makes me considerably more twisted than I thought I was, but it’s on the surface. She thinks she shouldn’t enjoy herself. She believes I’m a monster and so she hides her desire, but at the core, we both know she’s already dripping.
“That’s it, darling,” I hiss, my muscles tightening. “Take all of me.” She doesn’t need further prompting, her sensual lips pressing against my balls and the base of my cock as she lets me fuck her throat.
Yesterday, when we were both still pretending to be civilized, I wouldn't have gone so deep, so fast, and she might have pretended not to be able to breathe around a ten-inch cock, but we're far beyond pretense. We've left the bounds of civilities far behind.
Neither of us cares about the fact that the dining hall's half filled with Allean prudes who'd never so much as dream to show an ankle in public. I'm supposed to be punishing her, and my council might believe I am, but she's relishing in giving them all a show at least as much as I am.
I come in her throat, muscles spasming, grunting, but I can't stop my hips moving in shallow thrusts.I get to my feet without withdrawing from her, keeping her mouth right there. My cock's already hardening again, craving more of her.
More, more, more.
But we're not alone in a cocoon, where I can do as I please. Hundreds of eager gazes are fixed on us, watching every second, like sharks circling for blood, trying to catch any weakness.
