There’s a room on the third floor of the host’s house (the host being my uncle, too, though not many people know this) that is different than the others. Just about every other place in the house is used for some sort of sex or another, from the library, which has thick couches to bend a sub over (though we don’t call them subs; we call them guests), a large desk whose surface is ideal to lay a sub down upon, and various chairs and ottomans to and over which our ‘guests’ are tied and enjoyed. Of course there is a dungeon, fully equipped, with the requisite St. Andrew’s cross, benches, manacles suspended from the ceiling, and so forth. And there are bedrooms, and the old carriage house out back gets its share of use--it’s one of my favorite places, in fact. There’s no place off limits except for the host’s bedroom, which is always locked and, I think, padded or insulated, since you never hear anything from inside, except the occasional faint cry as my uncle gets to work on whoever has caught his eye that day.
Vanessa began to cum first. Now her hips were in full motion, rotating, thrusting back on me, her cunt ever tighter, and grinding into Mimi’s mouth. She made a rising keen, her body quivering, and when her orgasm took over she went rigid, and while it’s understood that a sub shouldn’t yell, “Jesus, God, fuck me, fuck me now!” over and over, I saw fit to let it pass, especially as my own cum was rising. I don’t know just how it happened, but now I was in Mimi’s mouth, her lips locked around my shaft, and she was sucking for all she was worth, and when I came, her finger was buried in me to the hilt, and I pulled Vanessa closer and cried out my own climax into her mouth, and then fell into a shadow-place, aware only of our breathing and the mingled scent of our cum and the opium vapor.
I came to some time later. Mimi was gone. Vanessa was on her knees, her back to me, filling the bowl again. She turned and pressed the stem to my lips, and murmured, “More.”
Vanessa began to cum first. Now her hips were in full motion, rotating, thrusting back on me, her cunt ever tighter, and grinding into Mimi’s mouth. She made a rising keen, her body quivering, and when her orgasm took over she went rigid, and while it’s understood that a sub shouldn’t yell, “Jesus, God, fuck me, fuck me now!” over and over, I saw fit to let it pass, especially as my own cum was rising. I don’t know just how it happened, but now I was in Mimi’s mouth, her lips locked around my shaft, and she was sucking for all she was worth, and when I came, her finger was buried in me to the hilt, and I pulled Vanessa closer and cried out my own climax into her mouth, and then fell into a shadow-place, aware only of our breathing and the mingled scent of our cum and the opium vapor.
I came to some time later. Mimi was gone. Vanessa was on her knees, her back to me, filling the bowl again. She turned and pressed the stem to my lips, and murmured, “More.”
