The Dreamatorium

[Britwitch]

There was a fleeting desire to pout, to turn and saunter away...but she knew she'd only be punishing herself. And she wasn't going to try and kid herself. After all, it was always so much more fun when someone else did the denying.

Slowly she approached, eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed flesh. She couldn't blame him, not really. She'd have been impatient too. So much fire and spice. She was positively mouthwatering.

Nudging him aside and looking over the red head, ruffled and all the more gorgeous for it, there was a pause.

Sighing, although she tried to stop it, at the kisses. There was remorse there, that was obvious. But she didn't want remorse. She wanted something else.

Her lips leant forwards, finding the column of a neck. Tasting, licking, hands pushing her back against the wall. Gently...but firmly.

She heard a movement behind and turned her head, eyes finding his. Words surprisingly firm.

"You. Don't move. It's my turn. At least for now..."

She knew 'now' wouldn't necessarily last long so she was determined to make the most of it.

A nibble of neck, a bite near the shoulder. Delectable didn't come close. Body pushed forwards, soft flesh pressing against equally soft flesh.

She almost wished she'd gone with him, but then the hunt was his game. He was far better at it. This was her game...different...but still so much fun.

Lips trailed across a shoulder, back and forth. Hands rising to the swells of chest against her own. Weighing, squeezing. One dropping between thighs and pressing slightly, rubbing.

[Scuttle Buttin']

His eyes were nearly sea green as she joined them, and somehow it grew hotter in the room.

The cane, and the hand holding it, hung at his side. It would be used again, of that he had no doubt, but not quite yet. The music had changed, the dance was new, and he was shifting along with it.

Almost aimlessly, unmoored from any real point of focus, his eyes drifted among them. Their bodies somehow similar and yet, in others, strikingly different. He recalled the taste of the Witch's kiss, held it there in his mind for a moment, and then his tongue slipped out and stole the taste of his first dance partner off his lips.

Fucking intoxicating.

The warmth of the body against his was gone, and now her back was to the wall. Still his eyes drifted, trying to drink in as much detail as humanly possible.

He moved off the wall, his intended direction clear, but was stopped by stern words and dark eyes.

He grinned, inclining his head slightly to her.

His wrist rotated, pinwheeling the cane at his side as he watched.

After a short moment he turned away, crossed to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a new drink. Perhaps this one would not suffer the same fate as the last.

Silent steps carried him to a high backed chair, and he sank into it. He was still quite hard, and under no illusion that it would be lessening anytime soon.

Over the rim of his glass, silent, observant eyes watched them. He drank the liquor, a poor substitute for that which he truly thirsted for. But the burn helped.

The tip of his tongue appeared, stole a drop of the cool liquid off his lips.

He watched. Hungry.

[Miss_Vivi]

A study in contrasts.
They had once discussed the contrasts between herself and the one who assaulted her senses now. Between the two women, one sugar, one spice. And together, everything nice. At least that was how the story went, but the contrast was between him and her. Two tempting tones with different beats.

He was all strength, power and denied pleasure till it was sweet enough to taste. She was all enticing warmth and shared pleasure and need.

It was into and against her Vi melted, not even bothering to fight, just pulling hips against hers and clinging to the curves that invited roaming hands. Soft, tiny, whimpers met by even softer lips, another moan met her ears, not sure if it was her own or belonging to the brunette that had so totally conquered her.

In this moment at least.

Sure, it took a moment for that resistance to find it's footing. For her to find her legs, what with wandering pinching, rubbing hands that weakened her will. But she did find it.

Looking over Brit's shoulder at a very hard man, another smile. Another tortured moan handed over as penance for broken glass.

And then it was her turn.

Music change.

She spun the woman in her arms around to face him. Untying the loose belt and sliding the already falling robe from her body. Vi's chest pushed against an exposed back, both of them arching together. One hand around a throat, the other leaving a red trail behind pink nails.

"Look at what you do to him."

The words are even, measured and whispered for both of them. They were equally guilty of his hunger, the cause of and solution to. But even an admittance of guilt wouldn't deter her, and she pushed both of them well into his grasp.

Well, one of them, anyway. No way she was going to be near when that cane whistled through the air once more. Her beautiful British lovely was surrendered to an angry and hungry god.

Vi, danced out of reach to her own soft giggles. She had no doubt that she'd be ordered or dragged back into the fray, soon. Her freedom granted her the minute she needed to find her ability to breathe, which hadn't been right since he'd found her and she'd kissed her.

Tempo change.

[Britwitch]

Brit was like a kid in a candy shop. There was simply too much that she wanted to taste, to slip between her lips, to feel. But alas she had only one mouth and two hands. So they were kept busy, very busy.

Stroking, fondling, pulling, teasing. Leaning more and more against Vi's sumptuous frame, starting to lose her grip on where she ended and the other began. Sounds a constant swirl around them. Soft and undeniably wanton.

Then the deliciousness was gone. Pinked face now faced him. She shivered as smooth fabric fluttered to the floor, useless, unwanted. A wave of tension as a hand curled around her throat and the nails of the other drew a quiet hiss from her lips.

There was a moment in which her mind wondered just how she always seemed to end up in this position...between them. And, more often than not, naked. But it was a fleeting moment as a carefully timed shove from Vi pushed her forwards and onto her knees before him.

Landing between spread legs, hands coming to rest on his thighs.
They're tense. Like the rest of him.
She's partly to blame for that but she's not the only one. And yet she's the only one on the floor, at his feet. So far, at least.

A glance back at Vi, watching her dance herself out of harm's way...for the moment.

"You don't really think this saves you, do you?"

A slightly playful smile as Brit turns back to him and runs her palms up his legs towards his body, shuffling a little closer on her knees.

"Your turn now...?"

[Scuttle Buttin']

Another drink. Liquor held in his mouth for a moment, his tongue swimming in it.

Swallow.

Burn.

And then they were facing him. His head tipped just off center, a brow arched, his gaze fluid between the two of them. He could just hear the whisper between them, floating with the sound of their joined and ragged breathing.

His own seemed to catch in his throat for a moment as the robe was dropped, and she was revealed to him in her entirety.

It might, to an outsider, seem a strange thing. He sat, basically fully clothed, his suit loosened and rumpled here and there but still entirely on. They stood before him, the only piece of clothing between them a skirt that only one wore. To say he seemed overdressed would be a profound understatement.

And yet, there was something exceptionally arousing about it. It made him throb within the confines of fabric.

They approached. Curves and bare flesh swaying and moving and growing within his view.

A well-timed movement over her shoulder, and suddenly Brit was before him. Kneeling. Hands on his thighs. His gaze flickered, one to the other, back again. His focus torn, the one that touched him and the one that seemed to think she was getting away.

A voice gave him focus, drew him in, and his hands gripped tighter, one around a clear glass half-full of swirling liquid, the other around a straight piece of rattan that felt nearly to be an extension of him. Another appendage.

He nodded. His turn. Yes.

The glass is lifted to his lips, a long drink drawn in, swallowed, and then his arm lays along the length of the arm rest. The tumbler is held at the end of curled fingers.

"My turn."

His voice was low, a tone that said more than his words ever could.

"Make her want to come back and see what she's missing."

[Miss_Vivi]

A perfect row of white teeth sunk into a red lip, followed by an intake of breath and tingles sliding down a spine to land between her legs, where it made her weak. Wanting. She turned, crossing her arms. Crossing her legs, after finding a chair to watch them both from.

He'd used that tone. The one that was filled with lust and need, and the one sound she could never, ever deny. Even in her chair, squeezing her legs together she felt like crawling in next to Brit, to join her tongue with the other that would soon be sliding up and down hard flesh.

She resisted. How, she would never know.

Her focus was solely on a pert ass that moved as the woman did, her hands moving up and down tense thighs. She breathed, and squeezed her own thighs hoping for a measure of release from her own aching body. It didn't come.

He smirked.
She sighed.
Vi whimpered.

Oh fuck....

[Britwitch]

A glint in blue eyes, a glance back over her shoulder and then fingers went to work. Trousers undone, parted and firming flesh found. Pink lips were moistened. One last look up to his face.
"As you wish..."
No more words, not for now, now she used her mouth for another purpose.

Wet warmth embracing him, drawing him in. A sigh as fingers curled around the base and tongue went to work, trailing along skin, following veins, seeking those special spots that made it hard for him to sit still. The ones he tried to ignore. Especially at times like this, of that she was certain. Or at least, of that she hoped.

Another sound - a groan, louder this time, for Vivi's benefit as much as anything.
Dark hair trailed back and forth along his thigh while Brit took up the challenge readily. She would do whatever it took to get the flame haired beauty by her side. A palm cradled sacs, massaging. Cheeks hollowed, increasing the pressure around him. The other hand dipped between her own bare thighs, increasing the noises, her own movements. Hips rocking below, almost in time with her mouth.

Licking and sucking.
Tasting and teasing.
All to please.
Always to please.
Filling, over-filling, her mouth with him time and again.
Brit was nothing if not dedicated.

[Scuttle Buttin']

Heavy-lidded eyes watched her, his posture almost appearing relaxed were it not given away by the great vortex of tension she worked to uncover.

His hips pushed forward in the chair, body sinking lower, legs parting further for her. He watched her intently, lips parted, waiting. Ready. So very fucking ready.

Her lips on him sent his eyes rolling, his lids falling, his back arching. He didn't drop the glass, but some of the liquor contained within may have spilled as he shifted, moved, arched, responded.

"Fuck..."

He whispered the word, though exactly what he meant with it he was unsure. Nothing else seemed capable of coming out of his mouth right then. He was a beast of need, and her mouth only drove him on.

A groan from the mouth circled around his cock drew his eyes open, a slight nod from his head. His arms remained unmoving on the armrests of the chair. Goddammit, if she didn't look good there.

With some considerable effort, he pulled his eyes away from the sight of her and flung his gaze across the room. A grin touched on his lips as he met Vi's eyes. He knew he was using that tone with her, and she would know his doing so was entirely on purpose. And both of them knew why it was occasionally broken for a gasp or a low moan.

"Her mouth... is exquisite."

A pause, electric pleasure shifting his features for a moment.

"And doesn't she just look... fucking delicious? Look at those hips move... ah, fuck... I think she wants you over here. I think she wants you to taste her..."

[Miss_Vivi]

A tempting tango to join. The dance of her tongue on his cock, he counters with a softly spoken fuck, she dips and slides, he pushes past soft needy lips. Vi could stare all night.

She could if they weren't both gunning for her involvement.
She'd be happy in the corner.
Just watching.
Okay, not happy.
Thighs spread, skirt around her hips, fingers sliding over skin, bitten back whimpers filled with longing to meld with other moans.
Oh yes.

Eye contact is made and suddenly she's very aware of him and how he's watching her fingers, her spread thighs, her own little lusty noises. Turning the same color as her hair, her legs close and she stands.

She knows she lost.

The remaining piece of fabric from her foray into the night hits the ground, though her heels remain, clicking over the wood floor to their side. Besides the soft groans, moans and randomly thrown fucks, he watched her movement closely, or at least that's how she felt.

Before she gave in to either of them entirely, there was something that she had to do. Kneeling down behind the hardworking and determined little Brit, she pressed her lips to an already very wet pussy. Tongue dipping to fully taste the other woman, wetness spreading over lips. She was soon covered with the other woman, delighting in the taste, but this was only a taste.

Vi moves back and stands, two steps bring her to his side, a small wet smile, before bending at the waist to kiss and share. He tasted of liquor, of wet needy kisses, and now, of the tenacious brunette knelt before him.

Sharing is caring, afterall.

[Britwitch]

Words are heard over her head but she doesn't falter, all they do is encourage. Compliments of a kind. He's moving, so is she, but her rhythm holds steady. Just.

Deep and slow, over and over again.

New sounds, soft sounds, drift over. Making her smile around him.

A whimper as tongue and lips press between her thighs, announcing the arrival of Vivi, of her participation in things. Hips twitch back towards the mouth against her sex, rocking for the all too brief moments that the connection is there.

She watches, lips stretched tight around him, as Vivi leant down to kiss him. Feeling a twinge of pride that together they'd enticed her over - no matter how easy that might have been in reality - along with another of frustration. She wanted to kiss them both too. But that, as with everything else, was part of the game. Part of the dance.

They all had their parts, their roles, their places.

Another lick. Another swirl of tongue around sensitive head, the tip dipping into that little indentation to treat herself to the faint taste, those few precious drops, she hoped would be there.

She knew her place. And she loved it.

[Scuttle Buttin']

His eyes are narrow, but his gaze is focused as he watches her. Sliding down her body, watching her fingers dance and tease. Back up to her face to see the pleasure wrought there. And through it all, the one kneeling between his thighs, so expertly teasing his cock, draws low groans and deep, shuddering sighs from him.

A grin, victorious, triumphant, full of wicked lust, shapes his lips when she stands, and the last of her clothing is lost as well.

Were he to appear overdressed before, the fact that he is not simply the only one wearing clothes in the room, but that he is still wearing all of his clothes would make him appear much more so now. But still, it is an entirely arousing state. And the sight of them, one giving in to her desires, the other knelt before him and feeding his, might just be enough to drive some men insane.

What a way to go.

Another mouth joins to another sex, and even were he not able to see the descent of the red haired one, the whimper that slips out from the lips around his cock would be enough to tell him what was happening.

She stood again, and he could see her lips, her chin, her smile glistening in the light of the room. The shine of arousal.

His eyes were focused on her as she approached, falling closed only when her mouth joined to his, and he groaned into the shared kiss. The sound was drawn as much from the swirling and teasing tongue as it was from the taste he was given. Another log thrown on the fire of his need. Sparks sent up the chimney. Flames licking higher.

The glass, only mostly empty, was tossed aside, shattering not far from where the other had broken. Perhaps they'd buy her a new set later. Perhaps he'd manage to give a fuck about a glass later. No time soon.

The cane was pushed into the chair between his leg and the armrest, and his hands now free, he reached out. Driven by need, fueled by adrenaline and a heart that seemed to pound impossibly hard in his chest - could she feel him throb against her tongue, he wondered - he pulled up onto the chair with him.

Feet moved to each armrest, his hands on the globes of her backside, feeling the heat of the welts under his palms, he pulled her to him.

A new and familiar taste mingled with that he'd just been given, and again the thought occurred to him.

Fucking intoxicating.

He was a dehydrated man in the desert, and the pussy before him was an oasis. He drank deeply, unreservedly, attack the only fitting word for the way his tongue met her.

Mouth on sex. Mouth on sex. He swam deeper in the lust that threatened to drown them all.

Air was so overrated.

[Miss_Vivi]

Thank god for walls.

Just as she was standing next to him, swirling her tongue over his, sharing the taste of the beautiful kneeling girl before them both, did she find herself trailing a broken glass, stepping up onto the chair, surrendering herself to the hungry lusty god himself.

This wasn't a dance. It was a fucking opera.

Yes. Walls. Something to cling to while her own voice joined theirs, and rang above it. Something, anything that kept her upright when her knees wanted to give out, wanted to fall down and lay on the floor and let them both use her in new and imaginative ways.

Her fingers sunk into his hair and she held him tight against her, knowing how wet she was, how wet she'd be, how every moan from her lips was echoed by the wetness that he slurped at.

Oh fuck.

Her legs shook under his hands, because of that tongue that dragged and teased, flicked and licked at her clit.

She whimpered, begged, cajoled and pleaded with him to stop, to let her go, to let her down, to stop, for it to be harder, softer....
And then she forgot her words, dripping only whimpers and moans, and wetness.

Oh fuck.

Why did she play with herself earlier? Why did she let him hit her? Why? It made her way more ready than she wanted to be.

And then it was over. With a soft intake of air.
She came all over his lips, screaming his name. Screaming for Brit, begging for a release that she knew he wouldn't give unless she freed herself from him.

She did. Wresting her hips away and sliding off the chair.
Or maybe she stepped off.
But her legs weren't working very well.

Her breath. She needed her breath.
It was without thought that she moved next.
Somebody needed to be fucking someone else.
It was past time.

Hands sinking into brown hair, and pulling her free of a hard cock, his look of surprise only to be replaced with humor when the woman was turned. Vi shared a kiss with Brit as she pushed her down onto his lap. They tasted of each other, a heady mixture that almost derailed her.

Breaking the kiss, Brit is moved and helped to spread her legs over the chair arms. Placing his cock where it so desperately wanted to be. One move of his hips and it was over. A shared whimper. From one? Three? Who knew. But it was fucking gorgeous to watch them move together.

At another time she might have undressed him, but figured the ruination of another pair of pants at her behest was worth it. He'd take it out of her later.
In another moment, Vi replaced Brit on her knees.

Only this time, her tongue worked over the both of them.
Sweet, hard, soft, penetrating wetness all over her tongue and lips.
Fucking intoxicating, indeed

[Britwitch]

More than once she nearly choked herself, so desperate to watch what was happening above her head, not to miss a moment of him driving Vi to that peak that would almost ruin her before it rewarded her. Mouth watering almost as much as her own pussy as she watched. In her mind, feeling every pass of his tongue over the lips before his face against her own.

She took him into her throat time and again, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. But always deep.

Suddenly everything changed. She was moved, pulled up, pushed back, repositioned. A kiss, hungry and feral and delicious. Not to mention far too short.

There was a moment's pause and then she felt him. That moment of delicious discomfort as he pushed deep inside her needy sex. Lips formed an 'o' of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Tightness wrapped impossibly close around him.

She rolled her hips...then again...and again...each time taking him deep inside. Bouncing deliriously in his lap.

Then Vi moved down between her thighs and everything exploded around her.
Whimpering shrieks and cries. Pleas mingled with expletives mingled with sounds.

She wasn't her, not any more. She was this thing that they'd turned her into. Again. A shaking, trembling mass of need and lust. Hell, she barely knew her own name at that point.

One hand tangled down into the red waves between her legs, the other ran through her own dark hair, pushing it back from flushed features.

"Oh...oh fuck..."

A slight smile before she completely lost her mind.

"Don't...don't think I didn't...didn't hear the other glass break...God...fuck me...God knows how you're...you're going to make it up to me for breaking two if...if this is what I get for one...!"

[Scuttle Buttin']

She absolutely coated him. Lips, tongue, chin, trails down his neck. His taste filled his mouth, her scent filled his nostrils, her sound filled his ears, his world became her need, her body, her pussy he had no intention of pulling his mouth from until he'd torn from her what he wanted.

Only the mouth still working his length kept him tethered to anything but the whimpering, begging, writhing mess caught between his hands and his lips. One hand left her, returned in a quick, firm smack against skin already abused.

He wants.

She gets no mercy until it is given up.

As her orgasm hits her, washes over her, his tongue laps, his lips press, and he drinks of her.

And then doesn't stop. He knows he can keep her going, know he can make a mess of her, and the beast of his need is uncaged.

He. Fucking. Wants.

She pulls herself from him, and he lets her go, breathing deeply of air that feels cool compared to the heat of her. He is hard, so hard, velvet steel between soft, stretched lips.

Just as suddenly as one is gone from him, the other is as well. His cock rises lewdly from opened trousers, his chest rises and falls quickly, his eyes felt wide as he watched them.

And then Brit is in his lap, moving against him, Vi moving her, adjusting her...

"Oh... fuck."

She's tight, hot, wet, extraordinary. He sits back in the chair, watching her hips roll, watching her body move on him.

"Yes."

A low groan.

"Fuck me."

The tongue catches him by surprise, his focus having been entirely shifted from one to the other and causing him to lose track of where Vi had gone. But, fuck, there she is.

His hands lift, reach out, fingers in the hair of the one atop him, pulling so she leans back against him.

He releases her hair, one hand across her throat, a firm grip. The other hand moves to a full, heavy breast, fingers teasing the nipple. He holds her against him, back to his chest, hips to his hips, his cock nestled fully within her and held there. His lips are near her ear, allowing him to whisper.

"Fuck your glasses. Do you feel her tongue on your cunt? Tell her how good it feels."

His fingers pinched, rolled the peak of her nipple tightly.

"Tell her how you love being filled with my cock while she licks you."

Nipple released, his grip replaced with a smack against her breast.

"Show us what a needy little whore you are."

[Miss_Vivi]

He fucks her.
She bounces up and down on his cock.
Vi tastes them both.

She could, if she wished, stay in one place and have them slide over her tongue, without any effort from her, but that's not how she works, or wants to work. Moving up to play with an exposed and hard clit, sliding lower to clean her off of him. Still lower to take sensitive sacs into her mouth, rolling them around her tongue while they pause before movement releases them from her lips.

Nails slide over exposed thighs, and she moans softly between long drags of her tongue. Plying them both higher and loving the reactions, the soft fucks, the louder and more demanding fucks, his words which are in the tone that kills her, those breathless moans from Brit.

It's so fucking fantastic.
For once, Vi doesn't fight it, just happily laps at her fucking lovers and keeps her mouth shut...well...open.

[Britwitch]

Damn him and his hands. Brit does wonder if she gave him a map, at some point. Something telling him all those weak points, all those places to 'push'.

He pulls her hair, her hips twitch harder.
His hand lands on her throat and her insides grip him that much tighter.

He plays her all too easily.

"Fuck your glasses. Do you feel her tongue on your cunt? Tell her how good it feels."

Words are not within her capabilities in that moment.

"Tell her how you love being filled with my cock while she licks you."

A howl at the slap accompanied by a harsher thrust down onto him.

"Show us what a needy little whore you are."

"I do. I love all of it and you...you know it...you both do..."

A growl as her fingers tighten in Vi's hair, pulling her closer.

"I don't just love it, I need it. And that's what makes it all so...so...so godamned, unexplainably fantastic..."

All the while she impales herself onto him.

"Please...please just...just don't stop...please..."

The pleas drip from her lips without pause, as Vi's talented tongue pushes her closer and closer...

"Please, oh fuck...please..."

On their own they are forces to be reckoned with. Like all together too tempting flames dancing and enticing moths to get that fraction too close.

Together they are downright bloody dangerous.

And she can't help but throw herself headlong into the madness.

[Scuttle Buttin']

The mouth on the heavy sacs hanging below where they are joined draws a groan from his lips, an arch up against the one in his lap, and interruption to the words that stream from him.

It doesn't last long.

"I know you love it. I can feel you love it. So fucking wet..."

His hand tightens on her throat, momentarily sealing off her air, fingers claiming her nipple again, twisting it roughly in his grip.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

The fingers on her throat loosen, allowing her to breath again, but he doesn't release her entirely, keeping her body back against his, keeping his lips near her ear. Letting him spill forth every dirty, depraved thought that flows through his mind.

"Beg to be used, little toy."

[Miss_Vivi]

The moaning and swearing above her only gets louder.
Music change.
This is the part where it swells louder. Fuller. Like the cock under her tongue or the clit that grows with each drag of her tongue.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

His words, harsh and loud ring loudly in her ears and her focus is then centered on the clit and full pussy. Matching each thrust with an assault from her tongue, sucking on it as she could. Enjoying all of her wetness that covered sweet sucking cheeks.

"Beg to be used, little toy."

She didn't stop eating the pussy in front of her, waiting for those delicious words to be dropped from ruby lips, and poured forth onto a waiting, willing and wanting tongue.

[Britwitch]

"I know you love it. I can feel you love it. So fucking wet..."

The quandry of remembering to breathe is removed as he tightens his hold on her throat. The panic barely bubbles inside her as the feel of delicious pain shooting through her nipple blocks out almost everything else.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

A nod. A silent, desperate, agreement leaves her lips.

"Beg to be used, little toy."

"Please, oh please don't stop...please don't stop licking that needy little pussy, that sopping wet cunt that is so desperate, so desperate to cum..."

A whine, then another, louder. Heavy, rapid, breaths peppered with wanton sounds.

"Oh fuck...please...please I'm close, so close...please..."

Her voice trembles, so close to almost crying the need is so great. The pounding of his cock, the suckling of her mouth. All she is aware of is the three of them. Together they are the sides of some bizarre and intoxicating triangle of lust, driven by needs she doesn't entirely understand but can't begin to deny.

"Please anything...I'll do all the things, let you do everything...your toy just wants, needs, to be played with...just please...please make me, let me, cum for you..."

[Scuttle Buttin']

"That's what I want to hear from you..."

He was moving under her, steady but not fast, hard but holding her still as he did. His breathing was heavy, a bit ragged in her ear, her mouth, her pussy, and now that tongue that roamed where their bodies joined having more than a little effect on him as well.

But he was not nearly done.

"Cum for me, little toy. All over me. All over her tongue."

Lids fell, eyes closed, and his mouth moved to her shoulder, teeth against her skin. His hand remained on her throat still, holding her back against him, keeping her close and as unmoving as possible. His other fell away from her though, fingers sinking into the red hair between their thighs, curling into a grip and pulling the mouth on her tighter.

No more words. No more tone. No more commands from her, dirty words spilled forth between groans.

Whether she was ready to give it up or not, he would tear the climax from her body by force if he had to. There was no stopping, no slowing, no mercy, until he had what he wanted from her.

[Miss_Vivi]

Her eyes raked over the two of them with hunger. So. fucking. hot. Every ounce of her being felt infused with both of them. Her tongue danced along with their frenzy. His words burned along her spine and they weren't even intended for her. Brit's whimpers danced over exposed skin and left yearning in their wake.

His intentions were clear.
And he'd take until he got it.
From both of them.
Not that either of them would complain.

A hand entered the fray, this one low to cup, hold and tug at his balls. Her tongue far too busy on a very sensitive clit to be bother with exploration elsewhere.

He may be gunning for an explosive orgasm from Brit, but Vi had other plans. If one was going to cum, then they both should. She'd just have to make the option too good to resist.

Her tongue pressed forward, her hand moved and swirled and she whimpered and moaned for them both, the vibrations moving along already sensitive flesh.

She almost hoped they would hold off.
Almost.
But not quite.

[Britwitch]

"That's what I want to hear from you...Cum for me, little toy. All over me. All over her tongue."

The words would have been enough.
His hold on her throat would have been enough.
The sheer power of the steady thrusts into her all too willing body would have been enough.
Her mouth would have been more than enough.

In other circumstances any of those would have pushed her over the edge long before now. It was as if there were so many triggers, so many delicious sensations and dangerous desires in the air that the signals to her brain were smothered.

In the end it was the bite that did it. That nipping of teeth against flesh sending a flare tearing up and down her spine simultaneously, sparking lightning in her brain and fanning the fire in her sex, that sent her over into oblivion.

Sounds of lust echoed off of the walls around them, body spasming against his hold, jerking against her talented mouth, grinding lewdly down onto him.
But it didn't stop...his hips, her lips...they kept pushing...pushing, pushing, pushing...keeping her there, keeping her falling...

Soon she was begging again, but these couldn't have been more different.

"Oh...oh please...please stop...I....fuck, I can't breathe...I..."

One hand rose to hold her forehead then push damp dark waves back from her face, the other dropped onto his hand on the firey mane between her thighs. Her body twitching far beyond her control as wave after wave of pleasure continued to batter her vulnerable body. Breathing was nigh on impossible.

"I can't...please...I don't...fuck, fuck, fuck...oh please...please stop..."

She had to try, before she slipped into orgasm induced darkness, she had to try and make them stop. She knew if they did it wouldn't be because she'd begged, it would be because that was what they wanted. And more than likely, because they now wanted something else.

Her mind nearly melted just considering it.

[Scuttle Buttin']

A hand was on him suddenly, massaging and teasing, and weakening his resolve to hold out. The body his lap, writhing, shaking, the sounds that poured from her, all worked as a fine distraction, and he knew he wouldn't erupt just yet. But fuck, did these two push him close.

He kept moving under her, kept his grip on the red hair in front of them so the mouth against her remained, and he pushed through the pleas, the begs to stop. Pushing, pushing. Enough was never enough. Finished was never quite finished. An orgasm was not the end.

And then, at last, he relented. The hand in Vi's hair released, and his arm lifted to wrap around the quaking body in his lap. His teeth left her shoulder, half moon marks left in her skin. Together with the hand on her throat, he pulled her as he leaned back, lifting her suddenly and fully off of him and away from the skilled mouth that had brought her to this state.

For a moment, he simply held her tight against him as he leaned back in the chair, both of them breathing heavily. His cock stood up wetly between her thighs, throbbing and hard and coated in her.

And then, a whisper.

"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."

[Miss_Vivi]

The crescendo.
Nonsensical begging words fall from her lips like rain onto a parched and needy earth.

That moment when the orchestra swells, and fills your being with pure sound.
Her clit beneath a ravaging tongue gets no quarter, and though she begs for release would she even want it?

You can feel it in every cell of your body
Vi whimpers softly, then moans, lapping every drop that coats her tongue and lips, her entire frame wracked with shivers.

Nerves dance and you can feel how in sync every single piece is.
Breathless, how the moans, whimpers, begging words fill Vi and create a new and wanton lust in her... how watching them fuck makes her want to be filled..tasted and writhing beneath them both.

She's freed. A glance up.
A sudden quiet, the conductor waits, a pause is always part of the music. Even if the audience hears nothing.

"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."

Downbeat. Breath. Blow
Vi does.
In that minute before movement and exchange where she finds herself on the ground beneath another woman, her lips wrap around hardness and licks him clean.

Music change
Damn they taste good.

[Britwitch]

"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."

It was a good job the floor was close otherwise she could well have injured herself when she slithered down from his lap towards it. She was barely in control of her limbs as she crawled towards Vi. Her mind however, that she was rapidly regaining control over and it was focused on one, single, solitary thing.

Giving back.

Vi was glorious. There were not really words to describe how or why, there was just that indescribable element, indescribable and inescapable. Every look drawing her closer, every sigh a new siren song she couldn't fight. Being told to go to her was hardly a difficult command to follow.

Lips found a neck, kissing and tasting while hands drew down to chest. Stroking and squeezing, circling stiffening peaks before slipping down over stomach and heading ever lower.

Nibbles and licks took her mouth to Vi's chest, sighing with no attempt at hiding the enjoyment as nipple slipped between parted lips to be flicked by her tongue. Mouth suckling as fingers finally found their destination.

Wet. So wet. A smile that she might have had some small part in causing it.

Fingers parted and stroked, toying around the source of the incredible heat. Almost pushing inside, desperate to do so. Hips moving, almost inviting her to do it.

There was another nipple to taste first. A soft growl as teeth tormented the other peak, at the same time fingers rising slightly between legs to circle that tiny, powerful, bundle of nerves.
Round...and round...and round...

Self control was running out, desire was rising sharply and it's voice was loud. Too loud to ignore.

One movement down her body, a slight alignment and her mouth pressed against velvet softness. Finger at last pushing inside, tight and hot, slipping back and forth. Another pushing inside to curl alongside the other, seeking out those places deep inside. Lips and tongue focused on her clit, sucking and licking. Her own breathing hard and mingling with the sounds trickling down to her from higher up the redhead's devasting body.

Slick sounds, wet sounds, grunts and groans. One glorious song and it was all for her, all for Vi.
Brit gave her everything she had.