A Witch's Orgy Ch. 04

Guinevere Carling was lost in the pounding music, the throbbing beats as steady as the slow strokes of the cock currently buried in her. Her fingers flicked her clit along with each off-beat. The twang of the guitar accompanied the shuddering of her pussy. The lyrics were as dirty (and more clever) as the words coming from the mouth of the man gripping her ass from behind. It made this man (if you could call the barely legal, completely thrilled with his luck, virgin behind her a man) bearable, the music.

As his harsh grip clamped down on her like a vice and his body stiffened like a board, she knew he was about to come. Guinevere let loose a string of words that sounded like a myriad of voices sounding upon each other. It would have terrified the man had the music not drowned it out. Instead, he let loose a bellow and emptied himself within her greedy pussy. Her body absorbed his essence, the power she stole from him more intoxicating than the momentary pleasure he gave her.

When he collapsed upon her, she shoved his sweaty body off onto the floor where he landed, completely oblivious. She stood up and stretched her muscles, enjoying the sensation of a perpetually youthful body. The magic was great, the spell beyond her own abilities. If it were not for Moira, she would never have even thought to attempt such an act. But her friend had taught her, nurtured her, until she had finally managed to steal the life essence of her first man. The power had nearly overwhelmed her. When she came down from the high, Guinevere saw with amazement that her wrinkling skin had smoothed down and her sagging curves tightened.

Now, Moira and Guinevere stalked the world for youth the way a vampire hunted for blood. They took what they wanted and left the husk of men behind; living, but incapable of assuring the immortality of mortals.

Guinevere left behind yet another husk, panting to survive his little death. Scattered here and there throughout the party were men left in exactly the same manner. She wondered, as she searched for her next victim, how her friend was faring. The whole point of this night was for Moira. It was her birthday, and Guinevere knew that Moira loved nothing more than to corrupt the innocent as she stole their most precious possession.

Hands reached out to caress and touch Guinevere as she walked through the frat party turned orgy. A man slipped a finger between the lips of her pussy. A woman rubbed her full breasts against her back as she passed by. Her ass was pinched, her nipples twisted. Engorged cocks were thrust in her direction with hopes that she would take advantage of them. Yet Guinevere ignored it all with haughty distain.

Ignored it all, that is, until she saw the perfect specimen of masculine beauty. He was lounging on a couch with the glazed look of a man truly bored, though there were two women diligently sucking on the thick piece of meat that thrust up through his open slacks. Guinevere's mouth watered as she watched feminine lips running up and down the man's cock. One of the women attempted to swallow the entirety of what had to be at least ten inches, but she couldn't even take half. A hand attempted to circle the girth, but fell well short.

Guinevere shook her head. No wonder the man looked bored with such inept handling. The girls were green, having only practiced their technique on college boys. College boys were easy to please; finding a woman willing to spread her legs would excite a man in less than three minutes. Suck his cock, and three minutes would be whittled down to three seconds.

But this man was the real deal, needing more than a pretty young face and a willing body to satisfy him.

She sauntered up to the trio, and posed her body in a way to show off her perfection just before them. The man looked up at her. If he was interested, he hid it well. In fact, his face was still a mask of boredom. Guinevere, however, didn't hesitate for a second.

"Ladies," she addressed the two kneeling before her newest target, "fuck off."

Slowly, they obeyed the softly spoken spell. They sucked on the head like a lollypop with a last, lingering suck before they moved away. Guinevere ignored the lethal glares they gave her, focusing instead upon the man. Without asking permission, she slid onto his lap, straddling him with her slender legs. Her hands moved up her body until she cupped her breasts as if offering them to him. When he just sat there waiting, she twisted and played with her own nipples for him.

Between her legs, the hard evidence of his need throbbed hard. She could feel the beating of his heart against her clit, his soft bulbous head sliding between the lips of her pussy as if it belonged there. With the shifting of her hips, she ground herself down upon him. His body responded by hardening even further, though his face betrayed not a single thought. Guinevere continued her bump and grind, rocking her hips back and forth over him as she twisted her nipples with punishing fingers.

Her body was quickly working up to a spectacular orgasm, and she moved faster and ground herself even harder down upon him to hasten the impending explosion. Mere seconds before she was about to come, his hands clamped down on her hips, effectively stilling her frantic movements.

The orgasm teetered on its pinnacle. If he were to allow her to move even a fraction of an inch, she would come. But it was as if he knew, the bastard, and he was intentionally refusing her what her body demanded.

"You want me, you'll have to be on your knees like everyone else."

His voice was like liquid heat; gravelly and rough, yet beautifully melodious with the deep tenor. It sent shivers down Guinevere's spine to her very center, and, as if obeying some unspoken command, she came with such intensity that she melted off his lap and onto the floor. Panting, struggling to take in enough air to steady her out of control heart, she knelt at his feet as he required with her head resting in his lap. She could smell her pleasure mingled with the dark musk of male, and her body quickly readied for another round.

From beneath lowered lashes, she gazed up at this gorgeous man. How a mortal could captivate her so easily, she didn't know, but as her eyes swept down to view his thrusting cock Guinevere knew that it didn't matter. From her new position, it seemed like a towering monument; holding tall and strong above her head. The base was lost in a dense mat of black hair, and it rose without shame to an impressive height. A thick vein that ran the entire length throbbed visibly with the coursing of blood. Capping it off was a head with a diameter that surpassed the staff's intimidating girth.

Guinevere looked hungrily upon it. It gleamed in the light from the slick wetness of her body, and she couldn't wait to discover the taste of herself mingled with his. Her tongue flicked out to caress the very tip of him; slipping within the shallow groove with deft skill. She dragged her tongue back and forth over it until his body responded with the releasing of a milky-white pearl of wetness. Sucking the head entirely into her mouth, Guinevere fed upon the liquid like the ravenous wanton she was.

When she was certain that every last salty drop had been consumed, she let her lips widen. Slowly, she took him into the heat of her mouth. Every inch was savored with the swish and whisper of her tongue. He filled her mouth completely; her lips spread uncomfortably wide to accommodate him as the thick head glanced the very back of her mouth. She held herself still for a moment, then began sucking on him. A vacuum formed within her mouth, tightening around his cock like a vice, and she used it to drive him wild as she bobbed up and down over him.

The slight sound of a grunt sent a surge of elation running through her body as she took him even deeper than before. Unlike those pathetic girls from earlier, this man responded to her ministrations. Riding the wave of victory, she doubled her efforts. Up and down she moved; faster and faster. Her lips squeezed around him like a tight band, and her teeth grazed his tender skin. But all the while, her tongue caressed the sting like a soothing balm.

So focused was she on his pleasure, that she startled when his hand wound into the thick mass of her hair. With his grip holding her head still, he thrust his hips upward. Guinevere relaxed her mouth, allowing the invasion and taking everything he gave her. Once, twice he pumped into her welcoming mouth. Then, when the third thrust forced his cock deep, he let himself go, spilling his hot seed down her throat. Guinevere readily swallowed it, the taste as dark and intoxicating as the man himself.