Page 6 of The Show
To my surprise, her promise made me glow with something that might have been pride. I felt myself leaning into her, desperate for her support and touch, wondering how I had managed to do this without her.
Meanwhile, one of the men called, “What’s next, Edward? I’m ready to fuck her face.”
“Go ahead,” came Edward’s amused tone. “Where should he come?” he asked the rest of the men.
As my mouth was once more filled with cock, I heard the calls around me—aroundus.
“Paint her tits again! I want to see Madam licking her there!”
“Her face. Come on the whore’s face, let’s see their tongues intertwine, eh?”
To my surprise, I found myselfagreeingwith their plans, and instead of dreading what this man was doing, I eagerly leaned into him, supporting my weight with his thighs, using my tongue on him whenever I could.
Iwantedhim to come, to coat me with his release, so I could feel Madam Eve’s tongue on me again.
This man was different from the others. His cock was thick, stretching my lips wide, and he was gentler, his hands guiding my head rather than forcing it. He tasted different too, a musky scent that was not unpleasant. I found myself eager to please him, my tongue swirling around his shaft, since he moved slowly.
He groaned, his hips moving in a rhythm that was steady rather than punishing. I could breathe, could control my gag reflex, and found myself enjoying the act in a way I hadn't with the others. I wanted him to come, wanted to taste his release.
When he did, it was with a soft grunt, his body tensing. His cock pulsed in my mouth, his hot seed spilling onto my tongue. I didn’t even try to swallow it, knowing that if I did, there’d be no reason for Madam Eve to put her mouth on me.
And I very much wanted that.
So as he withdrew, I opened my mouth, allowing his release to spill across my tongue and lips, dripping down my chin.
Madam was there immediately, her tongue licking up the trail of cum, her mouth meeting mine. She kissed me deeply, her tongueswirling around mine, sharing his taste. I responded eagerly, my body already growing aroused again by her touch.
We passed his seed back and forth between our mouths, our tongues dancing together. It was filthy, depraved, and yet, it sent heat coursing through me, even as the men around us called out their crude encouragement. I moaned into her mouth, my body leaning into hers.
Madam Eve's hands cupped my face, her thumbs brushing gently against my cheeks as she licked and kissed me. My body was on fire, my cunny aching with need already. I wanted her to touch me, wantedherto make me come this time.
The men around us were shouting their approval, their voices a distant rumble. I didn't care about them, didn’t care about anything but Madam Eve’s touch, her mouth on mine.
When we finally pulled away, both of us swallowing the last of the man's release, I was panting, my body trembling with need. Madam Eve smiled at me, her eyes filled with a wicked promise.
“More, my dear?” she murmured, her thumb brushing against my swollen lips. I nodded eagerly, ready for whatever came next.
With that, she turned, tipping her head back to boldly meet Edward’s eyes. I could only sway, dazedly, my breaths coming in heaving, desperate pants.
“Well, my lord? You have delayed your own release long enough. Where will you be spending?”
Edward didn’t respond to her taunt, instead merely chuckling as he stepped forward. His fall was unbuttoned and he lazily stroked his cock, but with his free hand he gripped my hair painfully, wrenching my head back.
My lips were already parting, ready to accept him…but he yanked me forward. “Get on the chaise,” he commanded.
Confused, I scrambled to obey, climbing up on the piece of furniture, lying on my back with my legs spread wide. Madam Eve followed, perching beside me, her hands not leaving my skin as she stroked and caressed comfortingly.
Edward dropped to his knees between my spread thighs, positioning his cock at my entrance. I panicked, trying to close my legs, but Madam understood.
“A hundred pounds, my lord,” she snapped, her voice clear. “If you penetrate Heather’s cunny, you will pay extra.”
“I know,” growled Edward, and when he pushed inside my swollen, eager folds, I tipped my head back in blissful surrender.
This position was The Falconer and the Oyster, page sixty-three inA Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts. “The woman rests with her back against a surface while her lover stands between her legs.”
But Edward wasn’t mylover; he was too rough, too demanding as his fingers dug into my hips and his cock slammed into my core. And the book had never mentioned anything like what Madam Eve was doing to me with her tongue on my nipples, her hands stroking me to arousal.
Had the writer ofA Harlot’s Guiderealized the pleasure possible when another woman touched her like this? Even with Edward’s rough handling, I was arching and panting in need.
