A Touch of Frost Pt. 03

Frost's hand went under Iris's skirt, thumb on her clit, fingers inside her. Iris cried out as Frost entered her, but made no move to stop her. She just kept watching the screen, Caitlin impaling herself on thrust after thrust of Frost's strap-on. It was like she was touching herself, giving Frost permission to ease her lustful suffering as she herself couldn't—passive—submissive—like Caitlin riding Frost's cock, only not as enthusiastic about being another woman's bitch. Not yet.

"See, I don't like to share, but two of us could dominate Caitlin so much better than just one. We could both fuck her ass. Take her double anal cherry and really show her that her asshole belongs to me. And then I'll fuck you. Just to prove I'm the only real top around here. You and Caity are such good friends... it only makes sense you'd both be anal sluts getting off on my strap."

"Oh Jesus..." Iris trilled, opening her legs in silent invitation for Frost to continue, the muscles of her thighs clenching, her breath coming fast—all of her body begging for Frost to finish her off. For the first time, she looked away from the screen, down to her groin and the ownership Frost's hand had taken of her sex. "I... I..."

"It can't happen, right?" Frost teased. "You're not a submissive, not a dyke... you can't get off from another woman fucking you in the ass... that's what Caity said. Now I've fucked every hole she has. And I think you might actually be enjoying my fingers more than she did. Who knows how hard you'll come when my cock is in your ass..."

Frost pushed up into Iris's sex, wishing she could find a hymen, but she couldn't—that virginity was already spoken for. Iris still wiggled around on the ends of her fingers, her fragrant juices assaulting Frost's nostrils as she smelled her, her sweat falling in sheets all over her perfect body. She was primed—ready to explode.

"Getting off on watching your friend fucked in the ass?" Frost pulled her fingers from Iris's pussy, the tug of her clenched sex making Iris groan, and then Frost actually spanked Iris's womanhood with the flat of her palm, again and again, mixing pain into the abject pleasure Iris was feeling. "You have a dirty—little—cunt!" she cried as she forced Iris to climax, not like a lover, but as her bitch.

And Iris gave in willingly to the sweet hurt, powerful shocks of ecstasy shaking her body, making her body roll and writhe helplessly just like Caitlin was doing on-screen, impaled on a strap-on dildo. Hot sensation shook her with burst after burst of feeling and Frost's slapping hand was soaked with Iris's spurting cream. After nearly a full minute of being in thrall to Frost's control of her pussy—and still that wasn't anywhere near as long as Caitlin was coming in the video, with a near-perpetual orgasm as she rode Frost's strap-on from one peak to another—finally Iris was left limp and panting.

An eternity later, Iris recovered... Caitlin was still dropping herself on Frost's cock, trying to find a limit to her bliss. Caitlin's face flushed as she realized that for just a moment—no, for much longer than a moment—she'd been every bit as much Frost's bitch as Caitlin was.

"Get out," she said shakily.

"Absolutely," Frost said, taking her hand away. Smelling it. "I haven't fucked Caitlin yet today and... I don't think she gets a good night's sleep if her asshole is closed up."

She didn't take the video with her. Iris barely waited until Frost was down the street before watching it again, this time imagining herself in Frost's place.

The third time she watched it, she imagined she was in Caitlin's.