Page 132 of Darcy
In answer, I raise one breast to my mouth and let my tongue swirl out around the dark pink skin of my areola.
The stick of charcoal he’s holding snaps, but he barely pauses to discard the top half before his hand starts gliding furiously across the paper.
“Keep going,” Dodger murmurs in my ear. “You want to give him plenty of inspiration, don’t you?”
His hands slide down my rib cage to rest on my upper thighs. With the gentlest of pressure, he spreads my legs apart, exposing my pussy to the hungry gazes of the rest of the band.
“Who wants the first taste?” Dodger asks.
Slate moves forward eagerly, and to my surprise, Prophet lets him. For all his worry about jealousy, or perhaps because of it, he’s probably the best at sharing out of the group.
“I’m going to grab a few things,” the drummer mutters, mysteriously. “Don’t get too carried away without me.”
Slate’s on me before I can ask what Prophet is up to. The bassist lies flat on the floor and kisses his way up the scars on my calves. The evidence of my ordeal is healing, but my skin remains pink and shiny in places. He takes his time laving each mark tenderly, kissing the sensitive skin beneath my knees, then stroking a path up my thighs as Dodger holds me open for his friend’s use. Slate’s first lick against my pussy makes an audible wet sound as his tongue swipes a path across my entrance and up to my clit.
“Darcy’s getting distracted,” Arlo complains.
“Keep playing with those tits,” Dodger growls against my ear. “You wouldn’t deprive Lo of his masterpiece, would you?”
I hadn’t even realised I’d stopped, but my mouth eagerly returns to the task as Slate continues eating me out.
God, he’s good at this. My hand clenches hard against the softness of my other breast, knuckles turning white as he lashes my clit with sure strokes. Dodger notices and releases one thigh to pry my fingers away.
He raises my hand to his mouth and lightly sucks on the tips of my fingers. The sensation travels straight down to my clit, making me clench, hard.
Why is that so hot? Fingers are not supposed to be an erogenous zone.
It’s so hard to focus on my breasts while Slate’s eating me out like he’s forgotten the need to breathe, but I do my best. Then, when he adds a finger and starts slowly working his way inside me, I lose the will to try. My head falls back against Dodger’s chest, and he chuckles as I tremble against him.
“Does it feel good, baby girl?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Too good.”
Slate slips a second digit into me, and the room begins to fill with the noise of him lewdly finger fucking me. He curls them inside my pussy until he finds the spot that makes me jerk like a livewire. It’s been too long, so I’m not surprised when my orgasm barrels into me out of nowhere. My breath whooshes out of me, and pleasure arcs up my spine.
Slate doesn’t stop. No. He just wraps his arms tighter around my thighs and doubles down on my hypersensitive flesh. Dodger takes both of my breasts in his hands and pinches my nipples again as I hit a second peak in moments, drawing out my release until I’m squirming and gasping for breath. Another orgasm is on the horizon, and my muscles tense as I strain to reach it.
“Not yet,” the singer whispers against my ear. “Prophet’s brought you some toys to play with, and then we’re going to take turns filling up your pretty cunt.”
“And her ass,” Prophet adds.
“You sure you know how making a baby works?” Slate asks, chin glistening as he pulls away, allowing Dodger to rearrange me so I’m straddling him. “Or have you forgotten in your old age?”
There’s a slap, which I assume is Prophet cuffing Slate upside the head, before the drummer takes his place behind me. His hands slide over my ass, spreading my cheeks while his thumbs press inward at the back ring of muscle. He plays there for a few seconds, stretching me, reminding me how good it feels, before he pulls away.
“I’m going to plug this ass, angel. Then Dodger’s going to fuck your pretty pussy while you suck Arlo off. Then, when you’re nice and stretched and open for us, Slate and I are going to fuck you at the same time.”
Does he expect me to object? “Please.”
A cold dollop of lube lands just above my asshole, and Prophet lets it drip down slowly before he starts to work it inside me with his finger.
“This plug is bigger than before,” he warns.
“You can take it, can’t you, baby girl?” Dodger croons, his hand slipping between us to fondle my clit as Prophet awakens a whole different set of nerve endings with his careful stretching.
“Yes, sir,” I mumble against his chest, my words ending on a gasp as he catches my clit between two fingers and pinches.
I’m on the verge of coming again when Prophet draws back, replacing his finger with the cool, firm press of silicone.
