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Old 09-22-2010, 02:27 AM   #51
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Katirah could see that the Comte was enjoying his bath. His face was finally free of that near permanent frown line between his eyebrows. It made him look younger, less harsh, more handsome.

She almost didn't hear him when he told her to sing in her own language. Perhaps it sounded more exotic to him. Or perhaps he found her French displeasing. She must remember to ask him. If her French was so bad, she needed to improve it. She was sure the Comte was far to busy to teach her. Perhaps one of his men... She switched back to Turkish.

Samara dropped the cloth and pulled her hand away rapidly when the Comte grabbed her wrist. He was as large as Katirah implied from their giggled conversation earlier. She was relieved that he would wash his privates himself. "Pardon, me Comte." She breathed out in her bad French.

Samara moved away from the side of the tub and knelt at the back. She sat upright so she could reach the Comte's head. She ran her fingers through his hair and began to massage his scalp pulling his head back so it rested between her breasts. Her fingers made little circles.

Katirah finished her song and began another. She was playing the Pasha's favorites. These love songs seemed to please the Comte.

((http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6OPRlCnhC6o another love song about a lover who has gone away and left no forwarding address basically. Sounds better in Turkish ))
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Old 09-23-2010, 08:48 PM   #52
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How his cock and balls hurt. Samara may not know what she was doing according to Katirah, but heavens, it was enough, combined with the beautiful voice off to his right to harden his cock.

His eyes closed, Marcel enjoyed the massage of his head at the hands of his slave, and imagined it was Katirah singing to him while massaging him. This of course did nothing to alleviate his needs.

Never before had he wanted a woman so badly. Never before had one occupied his mind so completely as Katirah did, and yet, she was owned by his Baron, a fact that Marcel could not overlook.

He didn't understand what she was saying in the song, but he certainly understood the meaning behind. "Your voice is exquisite Katirah, I am sure the Pasha misses it by now."
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Old 09-24-2010, 01:27 AM   #53
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((Poor Marcel. I hear an icepack will help with those blueballs.))

"Perhaps." Katirah answered as she continued to play the oud. "I imagine he has found another to take my place as his musician. The First Wife is very happy, I am sure." She herself missed the court. She knew her place there and what was expected. Her brief time with the slaver had been frightening. Not knowing what was expected of her. Not knowing who would buy her and what sort of master they would be. If the Baron was like the Comte, she thought she could be content. But when the Comte looked at her the way he frequently did, she wished that he was her master.

"If the Comte is done with his bath? Does the Comte require anything more from Samara right now?" She tried to keep her voice even. She had clearly seen earlier that the Comte had a rather large need that required a woman. "I will have her make up the Comte's bed." She plucked at the strings as she looked at him.
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Old 09-24-2010, 02:49 AM   #54
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Had he heard correctly? Marcel wasn't positive that he had. Was there a slight hitch in her voice as Katirah asked if he had a need for Samara. Heaven knew that he wanted, needed for the first time in his life, to relieve the tension between his legs. Did Katirah want to alleviate him of his need?

Did she want to satisfy his desire?

The thought that she did caused his cock to twitch in the increasingly tepid water. A wave a desire coursed through him that he barely could control. The thought of that voice singing for him almost elicited a moan.

Yes she had been singing to him all night, but not for him in any substantial manner.

His eyes turned to her, and he held her with them. Tenderly, possessively.

Marcel knew he was in trouble, if his need were so great after merely one day with her, what would he be like after the trip back?

Sighing he at length said, "Yes, have her prepare my bed."

Grabbing a towel, Marcel tried to quickly decide whether to show Katirah his ass or cock, then ultimately decided cock. Watching Katirah's face carefully, Marcel stepped out of the tub, his painfully turgid cock bobbing like a cobra with each movement.
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Old 09-25-2010, 01:36 AM   #55
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Katirah found the Comte to be a very frustrating man. Frustrating and confusing. He said she belonged to the Baron and so he and none of his men would be using her while they traveled. Clearly he was aroused by her. She had seen the prodigious evidence.

What puzzled her was that the Comte did not want to use Samara to unburden himself. He had told her he did not want to bring more bastards into the world. Once again she wondered if he were truly a virgin and planned to save himself for marriage. Possibly he had some sort of romantic notions about men and women and was only saving himself for love. It nearly made her snort in derision. Love was the stuff of stories.

When she asked if the Comte required Samara for anything else, he gave her a look that made her heart beat faster. She was accustomed to men looking at her with lust, but this was different. There was something more in his eyes. As if he saw her as more than a hole to empty his seed in, albeit a very attractive and gifted hole. She stopped playing the oud. No man had ever looked at her quite like that, not even the Pasha and she had reason to believe that he was quite fond of her. But his interest was more like one who admired a precious jewel.

Katirah watched as the Comte stood, neither proud, nor shy about his erection. She couldn't take her eyes from it. His skin was paler, at least in places where the sun didn't touch him, than other men she had been with. At that moment she could not recall if any of the men's cocks had been larger. However, she was certain that none were so well formed, like it was sculpted from alabaster or white jade. It glistened with water. It was like the dancing cobra that hypnotized it's prey.

Katirah blinked. The Comte had spoken. She spoke to Samara who bowed and went into the main room. Katirah crossed the room without thinking and knelt before the Comte. She took the towel from him and began drying his feet. She moved up to dry his calves, his knees, his thighs. She looked up at him and their eyes met again.
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Old 09-25-2010, 01:28 PM   #56
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He could feel her eyes on his engorged member as it swayed between them. She sat mesmerized by it, and Marcel found himself reveling in that fact. The fact she found his manhood appealing enough that she had been rendered silent. The oud sat forgotten on her lap, her mouth soft and inviting.

She could not have shocked any more than she did, when she silently walked over and knelt before him. The sigh of her kneeling before him, his cock pulsing above her head.

Something had changed, this was not the haughty Katirah, she was someone else. Her touch, albeit through the towel, was soft, sensual, but not the programmed touch of a courtesan. It was more a touch like an experienced lover gives to the object of her affections.

Marcel could almost feel her caressing his balls, pulling on the slightly as she kissed the head of his cock. Her lips were soft as she opened her mouth, sucking her deep into him. Her perfect breasts pressed against his thighs, her hands wrapping around to pull him further into her mouth.

Precum began seeping from the slit and slowly worked its way down the ridge of his cock. He imagined it was Katirah's tongue, teasing him, forcing him to pleasures he had never imagined.

Her movements stilled, yanking Marcel from his imagination, and he looked down at her. Her butt no longer rested on her ankles and she had risen up. Her mouth was perfectly situated to be rammed into her mouth, if she would but open it for him. Her eyes reflected his own, unbridled lust, confusion, a sense of something more than either had felt before.

Marcel reached down, cupping the heavenly face before him and raised her up, until she was standing. Her eyes never wavered from his.

Marcel leaned forward, tentatively kissing the beautiful slave. Hesitant, unsure, his lips pressed against hers, his tongue safely in his mouth. Katirah's hands wrapped around his back, just above his hard ass, and she leaned slightly into him.

His kiss changed almost instantly, pouring his heart out through it. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, greedily taking her offer of it. His tongue dueled with hers, flicking across his teeth, her teeth. His hands unbidden wrapped around her ass cheeks, squeezing them, a miserly touch that showed all the possessiveness that he felt toward her, unable to vocalize.

He pulled her tight against him, his cock cocooned between their bodies, the silkiness of the clothes, of his skin agitating it to a state he had never experienced before. Their bodies undulated together, a rhythm so natural, so right, that he could not have believed it.

His knees weakened as he broke off the kiss looking into her eyes, seeing the same fire in them that he was sure his eyes showed. Her feather light touch made his skin dance beneath her fingers.

His mouth descended onto hers again, his tongue sliding easily into her mouth. The taste of their dinner yet on her lips. As he pressed onto her, into her, Katirah folded herself into him, a perfect union of disparate cultures, yet the same desires.

Shamelessly, his cock exploded, coating them both in his seed as Katirah opened herself to him, her body easing into his.
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Old 09-26-2010, 05:57 AM   #57
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Katirah knew many stories of love at first sight. This wasn't exactly that. She was a slave and she wasn't in love. But the Comte looked at her in a way no other man had. It was more than lust. He was tender and kind. She had to admit she found him a challenge when he said he did not wish to cast his seed far and wide.

Something magical had happened between them. It had happened fast. She found him attractive. Very attractive. And when he looked at her as if he actually cared...it made her want to be with him. When she knelt before him she was prepared to alleviate him of his burden with her mouth. But he raised her up and kissed her lips. The Comte was gentle, almost chaste. She put her arms around him feeling the cool damp skin of his back. His kiss changed immediately as if her were storming a castle. She did not submit. Instead her tongue sparred with his fighting for dominance. She clutched at him running her hands up his back.

Katirah felt the Comte's body tense, the quiver as he came to his release. She held him until his breathing slowed.

She grew wary. Perhaps he would be cold to her now that he had unburdened himself. Perhaps he would be angry or embarrassed at the outcome and blame her. In her experience, if men had a good time, they took credit for it by way of their own awesome prowess. If they did not enjoy themselves. It was her fault and a cause for punishment.
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Old 09-27-2010, 02:05 AM   #58
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Marcel was rather amazed that Katirah didn't pull away as his cock unloaded on the two of them. Her arms held him close as his seed spilled between them. He felt her tense up as his cock began deflating.

He leaned into her slightly, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue swishing across her lower lip. "You make me feel like a young boy, Katirah."

His hands swished across her body, soft strokes caressing her back, her arms, the nape of her neck.

Keeping one hand on her, Marcel picked up the wash clothe and began cleaning Katirah's dress, when she took it from his hand.
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Old 09-27-2010, 04:10 AM   #59
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Katirah could not keep the small smile from her lips. "Not too young a boy, my Comte. I told you it was unhealthy to keep your essence pent up." She took the wash cloth from him and began wiping his body. Her movements were slow and methodical with a practiced ease. It was as if she were memorizing his body as she washed it. She rinsed the cloth and knelt to clean his legs saving his now flaccid cock til last. She gave his manhood special attention. She held it with one hand and used the cloth with the other. She gave his heavy balls the same treatment.

When she finished, Katirah, still kneeling, looked up at the Comte. "Would the Comte like Samara to sleep in the other room?" She stood up in one graceful motion. "I will have her see to my dress in the morning." She tried to keep her own feelings out of her voice. She was a slave waiting to hear her master's bidding.

She did not know if the Comte would pretend this never happened between them and retreat to his previous attitude toward her. She did not know him well enough to anticipate his moods and react in accordance. She focused on a point at the base of his throat where the skin exposed to the sun met the skin that was generally covered by his tunic. She could not look at his lips. That would make her remember his burning kisses. And make her imagine him kissing her again while she was stretched on the bed with him covering her, preparing for Opening to Heaven, or The Cat, or The Spider's Web. She breathed and tried not to think about all the ways she could bring him pleasure. And in pleasing the Comte, she hoped she would please herself as well. The man was well-equipped for it, unless he was too quick again. Although his mouth on hers gave her pleasure enough and far more than any man she had been with, so why was she thinking greedy thoughts?

She snapped herself back to the moment at hand.
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Old 09-28-2010, 01:31 AM   #60
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Marcel watched Katirah as her eyes glazed over slightly while still staring at his throat. If he were a superstitious man, instead of a faithful one, he would have worried that he had bought a vampire for his Baron.

Instead he bought a temptress, a succubus of incredibly talent. Marcel was smart enough to know that his chance to resist her charms until they made it back to France was small. Frankly, none.

His hand strayed to her hip, which rolled like the foothills that led to the Alps. The touch pulled her, or seemed to, back to the present. "Yes, have Samara remove the tub, and sleep elsewhere."

Leaving his left hand on her hip, his right cupped her chin and turned her face up, until her eyes met his. His voice was low, raw, and trembled with great power, great fragility, "Perhaps I should go buy the Baron a lesser woman."
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Old 09-29-2010, 02:53 AM   #61
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"As the Comte wishes." Katirah answered. She felt the heat of his hand through the fabric of her caftan. He cupped her chin and turned her face to him. She looked up at him. Into his blue eyes. She had noticed his eyes before, but this close they reminded her of the first time she had seen the sea.

Katirahs lips curved in the faintest of smiles as she lowered her eyes. "Whatever the Comte wishes, I am but a slave." Her heart beat faster. She could not imagine what it would be like to be owned by a man, possessed by a man, who wanted her for more than her body. That _was_ what she saw in his eyes, wasn't it? She could feel the heat between her legs at the thought of sharing his bed.

She looked into the Comte's face, "I shall speak to Samara." She stepped away from him and into the outer room.

Katirah and Samara spoke softly in Turkish. Samara left to have servants come and take the bath away. Katirah went back to the bedroom. "If the Comte would like to relax in the main room until the bath is dealt with...I woud like to change. Samara has also asked that she be given leave to visit with her brother for a time this evening. She plans to sleep in the female servants quarters and will return in the morning to attend me. If that meets with the Comte's approval."
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Old 09-30-2010, 10:57 AM   #62
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Marcel looked nodding. "One change though. Samara is to sleep in the other room, no one to disturb us until morning."

He walked from the back room into the front room, naked the towel and all modesty forgotten. Lounging on the cushions, Marcel considered his fortunes, monetary and other wise. The possibility of buying another slave to give to the Baron was daunting, Katirah had been terribly expensive. Purchasing a second of similar value would impoverish him, at least temporarily.

Deciding he would discuss the matter with Henri in the morning, Marcel relaxed mulling that and other things over, losing track of time, barely aware of the movement of slaves through the two rooms; removing the water and then the bath itself.

The delay was more than adequate time for Marcel's vigor to return, and his thoughts of her lips on his roused him to a half excited state, interrupted only by Samara's entrance to the room, "She ready."
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Old 09-30-2010, 03:19 PM   #63
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Katirah change out of her soiled caftan and chose a long gauzy chemise the color of saffron. It brought out the highlights in her hair. It was as soft as a butterfly's wing and so sheer nothing of her body was hidden. It was as if she was seen through a golden haze. She had sweetened her breath with anise seeds and daubed more perfume in the crooks of her elbows anbd knees. It was subtle and spicy and spoke of exotic things. it suited her.

She gave Samara her instructions and the girl left to visit her brother, telling the guard outside that except for her return, no one was to disturb the Comte until morning.

There was wine and bread, cheeses and fruit on a table near the bed. Katirah wasn't sure if she should go to the Comte or if her would come to her. Samara had told him that she was ready, she would let him come to her in his own time. She sat by the window and picked up her oud. She played a simple melody as she waited. it calmed her. She had never felt anticipation like this before. She had never been with a man quite like the Comte before. She could still feel his hand on her hip and the taste of his lips on hers.
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Old 09-30-2010, 08:31 PM   #64
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Marcel walked into the inner room his eyes fixing on Katirah instantly as he walked in. He noticed the gossamer cloth, hiding nothing at all. Her entire body stripped bare for his consumption, save for the halo of gold around her.

A halo that would stop nothing what so ever.

Her eyes came round to his as he stood there staring at her. When they met, an arc of lightning seemed to traverse the room between them. The charge shot through his body as his breath caught in his throat.

"She is mine" he thought. The thought of that sent the charge ricocheting through his body again.

A rather bothersome part of his mind pointed out her slave status and that was only reason she was his. Marcel stilled that part as he crossed the room taking oud from her hands gently.

Tossing the instrument aside, it landed safely on a pile of pillows. Marcel stood over her looking down, his eyes still not straying from hers. His hands opened and closed reflexively. His body both tense and relaxed.

His right hand reached out, cupping her face with his palm, then tilted her face fully up toward him.

His voice was calm, earnest as he said, "I will change your life."
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Old 09-30-2010, 11:30 PM   #65
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The Comte entered the room like a King. Or a God. Katirah thought she had never seen a more magnificent man. Boys and old men. The few virile men she had been with seemed only to sweat and grunt, then leave. There was that one Sultan, black as midnight. She had thought him a very handsome man, but she soon discovered he only appreciated her for her music. The young male slaves were more to his taste when it came to the bed chamber.

She thought all these things in the moment that it took him to cross the room in all his naked majesty. She looked him right in the eye. She was not Samara, a docile and meek slave. Katirah was better educated than the queens and princesses in the harem. She was beautiful and she knew it. She knew the effect she had on men in general and on the Comte in particular. And yet, when their eyes met, she felt the electricity between them. She couldn't turn her eyes away, even if she wanted to.

The Comte set her oud aside and turned her face up to his. "I will change your life." He said.

Katirah thought about that for a moment. She looked away, then looked back into the Comte's eyes. "I believe you already have." Her voice was low and sensuous. A vocal caress.
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Old 10-01-2010, 02:12 AM   #66
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Marcel stood before Katirah, his eyes not moving from hers as his hands reached up, pulling the string holding the diaphanous material up. The material made the lightest of sounds as it trailed along her body, hanging briefly on her taut nipples. His finger ran along the thin seam, flicking her nipple, causing the material to fall free to the floor.

His breath caught in his throat. Yes the material previously hid nothing, but her sheen was lustrous forcing his eyes to roam across her body. Running his hand along her hip following the dip of her waist and then over the ridges of her ribs.

"Now Katirah," his voice soft choked with lust, "Now, I will take that massage you sought to tease me with earlier."
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Old 10-01-2010, 04:26 PM   #67
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((FYI: In my research, I discovered that in the Middle East it was the custom with women to pretty much remove all hair from the neck down. And there were all sorts of henna rituals. Since we are doing more of a fantasy alternate universe version, we can go with this or not.))

Katirah's breath hitched (in Turkish they use the word 'hup') when the Comte touched her nipple. She felt the material of her chemise slid down her body like a whisper to puddle at her feet. His strong hand was gentle as it followed her curves from hip to waist and higher stopping short of her breast. "Now, I will take that massage you sought to tease me with earlier." He said. She could hear the lust in his voice and knew the massage

"If the Comte would please to lie on the bed. Face down." She continued to look him in the eye, her lips curved into a small smile.
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Old 10-02-2010, 02:31 PM   #68
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It was a very un-slave like smile that creased her face. It was more the look of a cat about to devour a mouse than a slave preparing herself to pleasure her master. His eyes held hers, a moment, then two; the space of silence lengthened, the look n Katirah's eyes started to be shaded with uncertainty.

His hands wrapped around her upper arms and pulled her close, his mouth closing over hers. The taste of anise in her mouth fed his hunger, his tongue invaded her mouth, driving her tongue back and down. It was a kiss unlike any he had given before, demanding and forceful. On and on, he drove into her mouth until Katirah's breath caught in her mouth.

As her hands reached for his hips, Marcel turned and laid on the bed.
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Old 10-02-2010, 09:29 PM   #69
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The Comte held Katirah's eyes when she smiled. They bored into hers as the silence between them grew. Her gaze and smiled faltered to be replaced by a look of studied docility. Whenever she thought she was beginning to understand this man, he did something unexpected. The Comte held her arms tightly. Tightly enough to make her open her mouth in surprise and in anticipation of a more bruising grip. As her mouth opened, his was upon hers. His tongue forced entrance that would have been freely given, but he did not pause in his onslaught for her to accommodate him. Had the Comte's tongue been his cock she would have gagged as he continued to assail her mouth. He finally stopped and turned away leaving her gasping for air, her heart pounding.

The Comte stretched out on the bed on his stomach, his head cradled in his arms. Wall sconces had been lit, the light gave his skin a golden cast. Katirah sat on the bed and poured some scented oil in her hands. She rubbed it lightly to spread it on them and to warm it, then she began rubbing his shoulders. She could feel his hard muscles and some knots are she ran the hells of her hands uip and down his torso from shoulders to the small of his back. She could not get the leverage she needed in this position. The bed was not a proper table to give a massage.

She shifted on the bed and straddled his ass. She poured more oil onto her hands and worked on the Comte's back again. Long smooth strokes to start, then she located the tension spots with her thumbs. Some were recalcitrant and she had to lean forward and use her elbow to push against the knots slowly working them out.The movements caused her to lift up from him and then sit back down. Naked flesh against naked flesh. She found it somewhat stimulating. She had never given anyone a massage while she herself was nude.
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Old 10-03-2010, 11:34 PM   #70
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Marcel laid on the bed closed his eyes, trying to relax. The vision of her nakedness filled his mind, his body reacting predictably. The scent from the oil played in his nostrils, myrrh, if he had to guess, was the foundation scent. Her hands were generating much pressure, mostly sliding along his skin, not having much if any effect on his muscles.

Then his heart almost exploded. The bed shifted as Katirah climbed up and the straddled his hips. When her vagina sat down on his ass, it took all the self control, which he normally had in abundance, to not moan.

As she raised and lowered her pussy felt like it was clinging to him, then reluctantly let go. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to warm up, the heat she was generating began soaking into, then fade, into his skin in response to her movements.

His mind began wondering what it would feel like for her to make the same movements changing only his position, so that he faced up.

He began to relax, melt under the ministrations of her hands and elbows, the muscles turning to soft butter under her. A moan rumbled in his chest as Katirah's hands moved to his upper arms.
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Old 10-05-2010, 06:35 PM   #71
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Katirah felt more than heard the purr-like moan from the Comte. He had been so quiet. She could feel him relax under her hands. she worked his arms and hands moving down to straddle his legs. Then she turned around to straddle his hips again while she worked his legs. she wished he would give her more feedback, let her know what he liked or disliked. It was disquieting to her the way he kept so much to himself and then would spring a surprise on her. Like that kiss. She thought her lips might be bruised from it. he seemed to have so much pent up inside him like a coiled snake. She never knew when it would strike--what would cause that snake to rouse itself. She smiled to herself. She did know that she herself roused a different snake in him. The image of him standing before her in his nakedness, his manhood proudly displayed.

Katirah's hands worked from thigh to ankle and back again. The fingers of her inside hand curling around to his inner thigh. His legs were strong. She worked the knots in his calves. he had been sitting too much.

She finished his legs. "If the Comte would..." She didn't know 'turn over.' "Lie on his back." She got off of him and knelt patiently on the bed putting more oil on her hands.
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Old 10-06-2010, 02:30 AM   #72
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Marcel wasn't sure if he were in heaven or hell but he wanted more of it. The feel of her sex as it warmed against his skin, the warmth of her hands as she massaged the knots and concerns away were nearly mind boggling. He hadn't felt such peace ever, or so he thought.

His entire back glowed slickly in the lamp light. Muscles relaxed and he could easily have fallen asleep had it not been for the constant presence of her womanhood pressed against him. Marcel wasn't sure, but it seemed like Katirah was leaking onto his ass and back. The thought of which was nearly enough to throw him over the edge again.

Her hands were so close to his balls as she massaged his thighs. He found himself hoping, wishing, praying that she would slip and caress him there with but a finger. Instead her dulcet voice sung, "If the Comte would...Lie on his back."

He felt her move to the narrower of the sides, allowing him to roll more into the middle of the bed. His cock sprang up from his stomach, the head quivering hungrily a good two hand spans above his stomach. His eyes sought hers out, seeing that she moved from his turgid manhood to his eyes and back as if entranced by one or the other, perhaps both.
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Old 10-07-2010, 02:54 AM   #73
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Katirah watched the Comte roll over. She could not believe his prodigious manhood. Had it looked so large before? She looked at his face and back to his turgid member. She wasn't sure what to do. He gave her no indication as to what he wanted.

Katirah moved closer to the Comte, but she didn't straddle him this time. She worked on the arm closest to her beginning at his shoulder. Then she took his hand in both of hers. She gently pulled his fingers. Her thumbs made circles on the back of his hand. She turned his hand over and looked at his palm. It was too dark to read it. She massaged the heel of his hand. It was no surprise to her that his Mount of Mars was well developed. Her lips curved in a slight smile. His Mount of Venus was also; hard and firm. She set his hand down.

Katirah shifted on the bed again. She started at the Comte's ankle and made long strokes running her hands up to where his leg met his body. She watched his shaft quiver as if in anticipation.

She straddled his thighs to move to his other side and paused there for a moment. She leaned forward and put her hands on his chest. She worked his shoulders, then his chest. She moved her hands lower and lower, down his torso, then out to his hips. She didn't need to use leverage to massage the front of him. She leaned forward again to go back to his shoulders. She could feel his shaft pressing against her.

She looked at his face. She debated if she should take his manhood in hand or finish his massage.
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Old 10-07-2010, 09:56 PM   #74
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Marcel found it nearly impossible to relax. Katirah's ass and inner thighs were slick from the combination of oil from his back, and quim from her nearly over heated pussy. With each movement up and down his body her hands roamed and touched and caressed him; spreading her heat along his body. Marcel's cock quivered and seemed to convulse every time she glanced at it.

Which seemed to be all the time.

Katirah was massaging his chest and shoulder's her pussy resting just below his balls, the heat and liquid dripping from her collecting along his thighs, draining up toward his nut sack. She leaned in to massage his shoulders again, his mass pressed against his stomach.

Her hands stopped moving and his eyes met Katirah's, he could see the uncertainty in them. In one easy movement, Marcel wrapped his arms around Katirah and rolled her onto her back.

His eyes never left hers as he slid down her body. The head of his cock trailed precum along her stomach and across her pubic mound. The hairless skin of the mound acting to funnel his cock to her core. Slowly his cock slid down the slit, and settled against her opening.

Marcel's eyes burned with lust and hunger as he whispered, "I can feel how badly you wish to please your master."

It was in the next second, her eyes showed more uncertainty, more emotions than she had all day; in that second, he pushed his hips forward firmly.
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Old 10-11-2010, 02:52 AM   #75
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Katirah made a startled sound when the Comte rolled her onto her back. It was done so swiftly and effortlessly, it was as if the move had been choreographed.

Marcel's eyes burned with lust and hunger as he whispered, "I can feel how badly you wish to please your master."

Katirah paused. Did she want to please the Comte? That was her duty as his slave. But more than that, she wanted him to please her. He had shown her a glimpse that he saw her as something more than a pleasant way to relieve his burden. When he kissed her it stirred her soul. And still the Comte left her feeling uncertain. All of her thoughts flew away like petals on the wind when he pushed inside her.

Katirah's eyes opened wide as her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened on the Comte's shoulders. She breathed out and tried to consciously relax her muscles. She arched her back and moaned as he began to move inside her. She ran her fingers up into his hair and pulled him down to kiss her.
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