She did her best, taking joy in the challenge, even as she groaned against him. Dana was not only doing those circular movements, but had slid her fingers beneath their contact point and was feathering her touch through Rachel’s cunt and then easing in, slow, slow.
Every ounce of her effort was needed to focus on giving a Master pleasure as ordered. Her lower body seemed swept by fire, a climax shudderingly close. Her nipples were tight, her skin tingling all over. Ben withdrew, then thrust back into her mouth. Again. Again. It was a friction that worked for her as she sucked, licked, and tried not to get him with her teeth. Though when she did, his hand tightened in her hair in a way that confirmed what he said. He didn’t mind the pain.
He had testicles that were well matched in size with the rest of his equipment, and they pressed against her brow as she serviced him. She inhaled cologne, soap, cotton, denim. Male.
The orgasm hit point-of-no-return, and she tried her best to stop it, to tell him, but her mouth had no room to form words. All she could do was clutch and claw at his hips, at the impossibly hard layers of muscle at his waist, as it shuddered through her body. When she screamed against him, she tasted another spurt of pre-come on her lips, his reaction to her pleasure. In the crazed spiral that was her mind, she wondered if he would come in her mouth, but instead he went still, holding her there, mouth penetrated as the climax shook and rocked her body.
Dana was coming again, too, her cries and the rippling of her tissues against Rachel’s adding to the barrage of sensations.
How many climaxes would they have before the night was over? It didn’t matter. She was a creature of responses alone, a submissive, a slave, something that needed no name other than being called her Master’s.
As she came down, her fingers were still clutched tight over Ben’s hips, her own hips raised so she was pressed tight against Dana’s pussy. The other woman lowered herself on trembling arms. Rachel took one hand away from her hold on Ben to wrap it around Dana’s shoulders as she laid her head on Rachel’s bosom, getting her breath back. Rachel curled her leg over Dana’s backside, holding her close.
While Rachel’s other hand stayed anchored to Ben, he slowly pulled out of her mouth, massaging her jaw and throat with heaven-blessed fingers. They stopped only for as long as it took him to readjust his clothing, then he took a seat, pulling his chair up close to stroke her hair, and resume the massage.
“Come here, little girl,” he said at last, speaking to Dana. “Time to take you back to Daddy.” Rachel noticed his voice was somewhat strained. She wondered why he hadn’t let himself go. Perhaps he was honoring Jon by enjoying his slave’s mouth but not completing himself in it, leaving that privilege to Jon. While the idea of Ben coming in her mouth was a sun-hot idea, she didn’t mind the idea that certain things were Jon’s right alone.
Dana made a compliant noise and shifted off Rachel. She stroked Rachel’s hip and side, a way of communicating affection while she used Rachel’s body to guide her to the edge of the table, where Ben adjusted to meet her. He lifted her, her arms and legs twining around his body as he carried her around the table and brought her to Peter, depositing her in his lap, where she curled up with a contented sigh.
“Hey, give me another beer while you’re up, Ben,” the ex-National Guard captain said, and Ben complied. Rachel only had a moment to wonder if she should remain where she was or go to the door again, or see if anyone else needed something, before her Master spoke.
“Come to me, Rachel. I want you to kneel at my feet for now.”
She rolled back to her hands and knees, and slipped off the edge of the table. Ben had returned, just in time to give her a hand down and a smile, before she moved on wobbly legs to Jon. She sank down next to him, leaning against his leg. It was one of her favorite places, her comfort zone as a submissive, and she closed her eyes, taking the pleasant respite.
It was an actual respite. For the next hazy time period, the men continued to play, but this time, the varying winners didn’t make any new demands on her or Dana. She liked it, listening to the men, their back and forth banter with one another.
From this position, she could see Peter holding Dana, because he had the chair pushed back. Dana’s fingers were fisted in his shirt, her face nestled against his broad chest. In another world, it would seem odd, the men playing poker so nonchalantly, a naked woman curled in the lap of one, while she knelt at the side of another. But in their world, it was normal. And perfect.
Jon’s hand never left her. Stroking her hair, her bare shoulder. After a while, she didn’t focus much on the words, just the rise and fall of the male voices. Until Lucas tossed out a name that caught her attention, since she loved Cassandra’s siblings.
“Don’t forget, Marcie graduates officially soon,” Lucas commented. “They’re mailing her diploma, since extending her internship period changed her graduation date. Graduation gifts sent to her co-op address in Milan will soothe any regrets she has about not graduating with her classmates.” He added that part with a smile.
“Does she seem like that’s bugging her?” Ben asked.
“No,” Lucas assured him. “She told Cass on their last phone call she was glad you talked her into that. She’ll be able to tell you herself when she comes home. She’s be returning to the States after the Milan job is done. She’s just trying to figure out when that will be.”
Peter sighed. “Seems like only yesterday she was crushing on you, Ben. They grow up too fast. Well, she did. Jury’s out on you.”
Ben made a face at him. “Give the kid a break. I wasn’t a crush. She was too old for kids her own age, so I was her very platonic friend who knew the stuff they didn’t, but she already did.”
“There was nothing platonic on her end of things,” Lucas observed. “If I didn’t trust you alone with her, you’d have been in serious trouble. She looked at you like you were the sun and moon, all wrapped up in one.”
“Even if that’s remotely true, she went to college and found out I was a disqualified planet, like Pluto,” Ben said lightly. “She hasn’t written me regularly in over a year or two. Don’t bust my balls.”
Interestingly, Rachel thought she detected some regret in Ben’s tone about Marcie’s lack of contact. She wasn’t surprised that it bothered him some.