Compromising Positions: A Fantasy

Cynthia was touching them both. Cynthia was being touched by both. She was at their center, she was the fulcrum upon which their hard levers balanced. She loved being in this position, feeling the rush of control, with that sinful shame of having it lost. The young woman adored both cocks with her feet, feeling no pressure to prefer one above the other.

Granted, it was a complicated affair, with a degree of difficulty that was orders of magnitude above patting one's head and rubbing one's stomach. With her legs spread, her damp center grinding against her chair, she had to switch her attention from one foot (and one cock,) to the other, and then back again. Both of her groaning playmates got their thrills in their own time. Stroking Nathan was a bit easier, since she had help. All she really had to do was apply pressure, give Erin something to push against, while Cynthia's toes danced.

Erin's cock was trickier, both because her bulge represented something unusual, and because her new lover's fingers were so wickedly attentive. Apparently, the fire-haired goddess could also make a lover cum through massage. It was something Cynthia would have to explore later. For now, she tried her best to keep her attention on giving pleasure, as opposed to receiving it.

But like any gift worth giving, seeing her lover's response was its own reward.

She could not remember the last time her sex had stayed this consistently wet, her inner muscles at a near constant shudder. Erin had gotten her so very close to a secondary release, with those sweet, sensual lips. Now those kiss-delivered promises were finally being fulfilled. Moreover, there was something about the way those fingers danced along and between her toes. There was something about the way the lustful woman pressed them, with lidded, emerald eyes.

Oh god, Erin meant to fuck her, Cynthia realized.

It might seem like an obvious revelation but only to someone who had not witnessed that godly cock at full gorge. That thing, that wondrous impossible beast; Erin meant to push it inside of Cynthia's body, hard and deep. Fuck, how many times? How often? Wo-would she remember to pull out? What would the young wife do if Erin did not?

Arms across her chest, squeezing her breasts against herself, she eyed the lustful Amazon; that red-haired, stallion-cocked Gaia who Cynthia had tempted out of her sacred slumber. The blonde watched those wet lips wrap around a silver heel, slurping and teasing. Without warning, the wife's body tensed. What was simply damp, suddenly tumbled into a flood. Her toes tightened about both cocks, just as her internal flesh was doing the same.

The writhing woman became a knot. Twisted and corded, with a molten center, she gushed into her bikini and leaked into her chair. It was all she could do not to scream. But neither was she entirely silent. There was more than just the one couple nearby who conjured up a familiar scene from When Harry Met Sally.

All of them wanted what she was having.

Nathan's experience was somewhat different, though no less unhinged. Though he was being treated, pleasured, and would not have traded his place for the richest, most decedent monarch, he was also passive. There really was nothing the older man could do at that point, beyond enjoy. It made him feel both guilty, and adored. As Erin had mentioned, it was everything he could possibly want.

He had no idea what it is the pair wanted in return. With his wife involved, he knew that there would be a price to pay, whether he enjoyed it or not. It hardly mattered, he was in a state of bliss that few would ever know. Everyone had that fantasy or two, that reoccurring daydream that served to arouse when all others had grown stale or uninteresting. Nathan was experiencing that particular fantasy right then.

Whatever it was they wanted, he would give them, and still think himself a fine bargain hunter.

His cock ground between Heaven's brightest pleasures and Hell's most delicious sins. If that was the case, he was pretty sure his wife was the fallen angel, full of whispered temptation. Did that make Erin a Seraphim? She certainly looked it, with the crimson hair and powerful body. Nathan had no idea that between those shapely legs hid a flaming sword to match.

His own shaft throbbed and pulsed between something silken, strong and agile on left, and something softer, sweeter, more familiar, on the right. As his heated flesh responded to their push and pull, the grip and tug, he shut his eyes and just focused on pure sensation.

Touch here, press there; a melody of strokes that played above the hard, hungry rhythm of his cock's heart-fuelled bass line. Could he be blamed when he rose his hips up to meet them both? Was it sinful to feel his own inner tightening as that swollen, pleasured member began to rush toward its release?

Wo- would it feel this good, in the bed, with both women on either side? An angel that made his knees knock, with a sultry succubus whose every promise led him further and deeper into her dark embrace; whatever was a mere mortal to do? That thought almost pushed him over the edge.

Almost.

Whatever could be said to comprise that almost was there when he opened his eyes. There was sexual, sensual Erin, licking something shaft-like, something long, something hard. That was his almost, that was the final barrier. His face clenched, ever so slightly, a tightening at the corners of his lips. That was all one might see.

It was such a subtle preamble to what was going on below. His cock came alive in his white pants. It leaped and jerked, writhed and pressed. With every press, it found a caressing foot. With every jerk, there was a silken grasp. All of it was frustratingly blunted by the fabric of his trousers. Like a beast thrashing about in a cage, his cock seemed to reach out for those lovely sirens, and as it lashed, it exploded.

Again and again, his bulbous tip flared, pushing another sticky, molten load of ivory against the walls of its prison. He felt it, splashing against himself, soiling himself, pooling in a sticky flood. "O- oh fuck... fuc- fuck the both of you."

It was his moan, more than that, it was his prayer.

Nathan's soft, intense exclamation and the sudden, growing spot of dampness were Erin's cues. She had been eying his partially-drunk bottle of beer as her toes worked with Cynthia's to bring him to the edge, then push him over. She planned to reach for her own glass, 'miss' and knock his beer into his lap.

As it developed, there was no need for such subterfuge. She felt Cynthia's foot tremble, heard her low-voiced ululation of pleasure, and as her eyes moved to the blonde's face, her hand missed - and knocked her own pint of bitter into Nathan's lap. The dark, strong beer splashed over his shirt and trousers, leaving a brown-tinted patch of damp, neatly hiding the dampness spreading from within. The tumbler bounced once, soaring gracefully over his leg to shatter on the tiled floor. Glass shards flew everywhere.

"Bloody!" she exclaimed as she dropped her heeled sandal and rose hastily to her feet. She was greatly enjoying Cynthia's attentions to her girl-meat, but dared not let them continue any longer. She could feel a damp spot of her own in her panties, and felt the slow, surf-like surges of pleasure moving through her groin; if she didn't do something very soon, she would start pitching a tent the likes of which the restaurant staff and patrons had never seen. As it was, if they didn't get out of here soon, she'd be showing a tell-tail trail herself.

"Oh, I am sorry, Nathan!" she went on. She grabbed at a napkin, started dabbing at the spreading stain on his shirt. "Hell's bells... Cynthia, he needs to get changed and get those things soaking before they stain." She looked around quickly, her hair flying in a fiery fan behind her as she tried to spot the nearest waitstaff. She saw one of the staff emerging from the kitchen door, drawn by the sound of breaking glass. "Check, please - por favor?"

Newlyweds with a suite and a room service tab have a bit of pull in just about any hotel. Newlyweds who are obviously about to spend some quality time in their room, even more so. Aroused couples play, aroused couples lounge, aroused couples order drinks and chocolates and pay-per-views.

A spilled bit of bitter and a fractured tumbler was a bargain, when you thought about it. The wait staff happily saw to the mess, waiving the bill off as a formality. Nathan was having none of it. After untangling himself from Cynthia who was giggling and trying to "clean" her husband with a wet nap from her purse, he pulled out a couple of bills to lay on the table. "Gratuity, if nothing else."

Cynthia continued to giggle, having moved from her husband, to lean, rather naughtily, against Erin. Her fresh blossomed sex was a sweet musk about her, and that giddy gasp of hers was infectious, as always. "Mmm, look at our man, trying to impress us with a big tip." She looked up to the stallion-endowed beauty. "I can think of other big tips that are even more impressive."

Her husband arched an eyebrow. He had seen his wife get this way before, a sort of sexual inebriation. She was probably not all that far from removing her top, claiming her bikini was "stifling." He tossed another apology to the young man with the hand broom and the dustpan. The apology was appreciated, the twenty dollar bill that came with it, even more so. With everything settled, and an aroused Cynthia to handle, he herded the pair into the nearest elevator.

His wife was still leaning, even grinding, hard against Erin, purring in that way that made both men and women lose their will to resist. "Mmm, I think we're going up, sweetie. I think Nathan is all excited. I think you're about to see our suite." She pressed herself a bit closer to the larger woman, with hungry eyes. "Won't that be sweet? Will you be sweet? Mmm, I love sweets."

Her husband gazed at Erin, having removed his sunglasses. He wanted to apologize to her for his wife's little afterglow buzz. He wanted to thank her for his own. More so, at that moment, he could not help but wish he were a woman, particularly one as free-willed and sensual as his wife. Standing on her tip-toes and pressing her breasts to Erin's own; it looked like a lot of fun. "I think you are stuck on that word, honey."

Cynthia giggled, turning around, pressing her round little bottom against her companion's front. "Honey is sweet too. I like honey, when it's nice and warm, and dripping into my mouth." Her eyes closed, hands moving up, feeling the lurch of the elevator, and giving out a groan as it did so. "Oooh yes, I like honey quite a bit."

The older man found himself enjoying his wife's somewhat shameful display. Besides, in this elevator, who was there to see, or be ashamed? Surely Erin could care less. He could feel himself getting somewhat stiff again, in a near puddle of his own mess. Like his wife, it provided a musky scent, with just a hint of lager. "Eh, I'm a mess. I should probably get a shower."

Cynthia cooed, "I like the way you smell honey, it's oh so very sweet." This prompted a few more giggles, and a harder, more focused grind of her body. "But a shower is a wonderful idea. Gives Erin and me a chance to get the hot tub bubbling."

Nathan looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Erin and I, you mean. And do you really think I am going to leave the pair of you alone, again?"

The blonde closed her eyes, beginning to sway and humming to herself as she teased the more-than-woman behind her. "Why yes, yes I do. One, because you currently owe us, and two, because it's a nice hot tub and we don't want to get it all icky, now do we?"

Her husband sighed, watching the numbers disappear, the door slowly open. "We talked about this, Cynthia. There is no trying to get even in a marriage. If you start counting up who did what and when, things get forgotten, people get hurt." He pressed the door button, keeping it open, so that his lovely companions could walk out at their leisure.

"Oh silly, that's true for dish-washing and taking out the trash. This is just a wee bit different." Her hand reached back, gently taking hold of Erin's wrist. "Besides, it is not the same as before. You are taking the shower, you are the one who decides how long to take, you are in control." She wrinkled her nose up cutely. "Just think, love, you might catch us in a compromising position."

Erin's nostrils flared as Cynthia's musk teased her. The blonde temptress had maintained a steady stream of sly innuendos and double-entendres as they left the restaurant, and during the ride up in the elevator. The pressure of her rump against the redhead's groin only exacerbated her lust, and she moved against that sweet, enticing pressure.

Cynthia's behaviour, she realized with a sudden insight, was like an addict. She needed sex, craved it the way an addict craved the next fix, and for a moment she felt a brief resentment. She didn't want to be something consumed by Cynthia. That's not fair, she told herself. Cynthia doesn't just take, to start with. This was undeniably true. Addicts sucked in from their surroundings, like a black hole. Cynthia was a connoisseuse of sex, without a doubt, but the frenetic energy she radiated, the way she teased and tantalized... no, she was not a user. She gave just as much as she took. There were similarities of need, but that was as far as it went.

That analogy, though, did go far to accounting for her current giddy recklessness. Like Nathan, Erin realized the pert, petite blonde was a short inch away from stripping down in public. One part of the stallion-girl wanted that very badly, wanted to see her newfound lover misbehaving, setting the resort abuzz. Another part of her, the pragmatic, sensible part, pointed out that such behaviour would only draw unwelcome attention and probably a stay in the local lock-up.

Nevertheless, she thrilled to Cynthia's naughty behaviour and her body responded in kind. Since they were now safely in the elevator, she welcomed the warm, sensual body grinding against her groin, resting her hand on the smooth swell of the blonde woman's hip. She knew Nathan was watching them tease each other, was enjoying the sight even if he wasn't quite prepared to admit it consciously. It was, she reflected briefly, probably a good idea he didn't know her true nature just yet; she wasn't sure he would relish the prospect of being cuckolded by a prick-equipped woman - and she fully intended to cuckold him, several times.

The problem was her girl-cock; Cynthia's foot treatment has roused her quiescent member. At least now she was in no danger of causing a riot in the restaurant, but her insistent organ was starting to emerge and the broad, flat head was pressing with increasing force against the taut fabric of her underwear. I hope Nathan plans to go right into the shower, she thought, increasingly distracted by the firm, round globes pressing against her crotch. She was glad of Cynthia's warm, enticing presence; at least it concealed the nascent tent she was sure she was already pitching. Cynthia and I need to work off some steam!

She followed Cynthia closely, letting Nathan bring up the rear. So intent was she on the prospect of pleasuring her blonde companion, and being pleasured in turn, she nearly ran Cynthia over when she stopped at a door, fishing in her bag for her keycard. Her legs trembled slightly, and she bit her lip as the thought of what awaited her, the heaven-sent opportunity which had brought her to this point, with this couple. Scenes of pleasure and lust played in the theatre of her mind - Cynthia riding her monstrous pole while Nathan watched, both horrified and aroused, masturbating himself urgently... Nathan topping her, his cock plunging into her cunt, his pubic bone mashing her balls against her thick, erect cock... Nathan caressing her stockinged legs, kissing her feet while she slurped eagerly at Cynthia's flowing fountain... The erotic, sensual vistas playing in her mind accompanied her rising pleasure, and little shocks of pleasure built one upon the other, spreading through her body.

Suddenly she felt dampness between her legs as repeated jolts seemed to fire her loins. Her own musk wafted to her nostrils as she came, her pussy flooding, soaking her panties. She could feel her horse-member, her balls throbbing as well, and from the size of the damp patch, she knew pre was leaking from her stallion cock as well. Please, she prayed silently, let him go for a shower straightaway...!

The door unlocked with a muffled 'click' and Erin's eyes widened as she followed Cynthia into the palatial suite...

Act 2 - "Won't You Come Into My Parlour...?"

The newlywed's suite had taken an exotic approach to luxury. Instead of compartmentalizing, it was largely spread out with few actual walls to split up the space. Less an apartment, more of a loft, the central theme seemed to be light, air and view. Most of the wall was window, a thick glass gazing out onto the beaches below.

Just outside, a tiled ledge following the same subtle Aztec theme, lead to a hot tub which was less than subtle. It was fed by a gape-mouthed spectre of a civilization, long since past. It was deep, surrounded by local flora, and could seat eight in a pinch; big enough for a small party, not so large as to lose intimacy.

The inside was dominated by a massive bed, semi-circular in design. The selling point being the lush cushions, and the ability to approach it from just about anywhere and slide oneself toward the warm center. Only the back was guarded, the headboard having a solar image with a mysterious, archaic face at its center. Behind that was a large mirror that could be covered or revealed, depending on whether the occupants wanted to view themselves or not. Moreover, at night, it would reflect the open view, giving a couple the feeling of being surrounded by starlight.

The kitchen was small, serviceable and seemed designed most prominently as a temporary bar for wedding parties. Opposite of it, a wall-mounted TV hung, with a shelf underneath that held a keyboard for web surfing, a console for noob pwning, and a cable box for pay-per-viewing. The movies available featured all genres, but the erotic, most of all.

Without many walls, the structure was broken up by columns etched with more of the Aztec decor, though an expert might quibble over influences from all about Mesoamerica. They were nice for sliding around, running your fingers along and leaning against while watching a lover undress. Matching them was the furniture, lacquered to appear as either stonework or exotically alive.

Cynthia probably had those filled with all manner of outfits and toys, despite Nathan's protests that they should "travel light."

Finally, there were sofas and love seats scattered about, where people could chat, lounge, or make love. They were all arranged so that the bed was ever the focus. Apparently, the entire room was designed to be a voyeur's delight. A couple could hold court on that bed, while their friends and lovers paid their respects with lustful glances and the shedding of cumbersome clothes.

Nathan turned to Erin with a bit of shrug, as though to say, "Not the room I had in mind, but eh, it makes her happy." His body slid behind and then past the pair. "Alright then, shower it is." He allowed himself a bit of a grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

If only he knew.

The giddy, aroused blonde found that terribly amusing, "Oh sweetie, we plan on doing exactly what it is you would do. In fact, you might just be surprised how many of your fantasies we live out here."