Exquisite Torture Pt. 02 - Asuka

"Yes, sir," runs through my mind. I'd never stop kissing her to say it though. After all, I'm already doing what he wants, and what she needs. My fingers walk down her body to rest lightly on her hip, so I can feel her reacting to him. She's fucking his hand, rolling her hips onto him and off again. Her tongue loses its vigor as she reaches a new high, so I dive into the kiss, providing the effort my mistress can't and showing her how much I want her to come.

She moans into my mouth, and I devour every second of it. A slow wave down my spine ripples my chest against hers. My fingers latch onto her ass as I grind my clit into the smooth, warm skin of her hip, unable to resist the need to share with her. More moans, and she bucks harder as his thick fingers stretch her. I do my best to suck the sounds of pleasure from her, and it's not long before she fills my mouth with more screams.

He lunges up her body, hands slamming down on each side of her head, hovering just above her, nose against her cheek. "That was fun."

"Can't argue with that," she replies, drained. We cover her face with kisses, letting her recover. After a moment, her breathing slow and regular, she pushes her way free and sits up, leaning against the steel grey upholstered headboard. "Ass right here," she directs to me, patting the shimmering, creamy white sheets in front of her hips. I sit, and she pulls me back against her, arms around my chest. "Lay down." Her eyes direct him to the mattress beside us.

Once he's in place, she begins to twist my nipples, slowly and gently. "Like I was saying, I want you to show me what a good cock sucker you can be." One hand leaves my nipple to tangle in my hair and point my face at his fat dick waving in the air. "Love that dick. Get it harder than it's ever been. When I think you've done a good enough job, maybe you'll get fucked." She steers my face toward his pulsing erection.

It's not until she decides she's fucked my face with his dick long enough to let go of my hair that I realize I have the corner pieces to a new puzzle. As I worship the length of him like my mistress commanded, she's draped up his broad chest. Instead of the voracious passion I expect, their lips are dancing slowly while her hand rests gently on his cheek. He hasn't taken the opportunity to latch onto the ass he lusts after constantly. Rather, his fingers float idly along the roots of the large tree tattooed up her back. Somehow, even with his dick in my mouth, only the two of them exist. As I watch, a shiver runs through me with the satisfaction of several perversions, as well as a contentment that physical stimulation can only allude to.

Of course, mistress has given me a job to do, which I attack with a galvanized gusto fueled by their intimate warmth. I only feel slightly guilty when their kiss dissolves with his throaty groan. Her head jerks toward me, and she has nothing but delight on her face. She sits back on her ankles and watches as I suck, lick, and swallow his dick like a good girl.

Based on some unknowable criteria, she pulls me away to slurp him into her mouth. Drawing back slowly, her lips pop free noisily before she turns to me. "I think he's hard enough to ride now, don't you?" I nod, eager to get fucked, to get used, to get filled with the cock I was preparing for exactly that purpose.

Except that doesn't happen. Instead, she slings a leg over his hips and quickly takes him inside her. He groans as he slaps his palms to her ass. My pussy tingles and my breath accelerates as I watch her patient rise and fall up close. I'm envious she can be so sexy that I enjoy her getting fucked as much as I enjoy him splitting me open. She does love watching him wreck me though, so maybe we're even.

She leans down to whisper something to him, not letting the slightest bit of him slip free from her. "Of course," he answers, "she always does an excellent job. She's a good girl."

"Get up here, girlie," she orders. I crawl over his leg and around to his side. She pulls my face to hers, settling onto his hips for a moment as she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth before kissing me roughly. "Now go sit on his face," she directs with a shove to my shoulder and a slap to my ass.

He attacks me with eager hunger the instant I'm in place. The room spins, and somehow I know he remembers every second of every time he's used my mouth. My mistress finishes the triangle, leaning forward to grip my neck and consume me with a voracious kiss. My eyes drift closed, overwhelmed with sensation from every direction.

"Ugh, fuck yeah," my mistress groans, ripping apart our kiss. She glares at me with wild eyes and clenched teeth, grinding against him with circling hips. Her hand on my neck throws my face onto his stomach. "Just watch." I forget how to blink as she lifts herself almost free of him before slamming down again. She swirls her hips a few times, and then begins a quick, hard bouncing. I stick out my tongue, unable to detour the fantasy of licking them where they're joined, of being a good girl who helps them both explode. I'm torn from my distraction by his invading tongue, and I writhe on his stomach when an orgasm sneaks up on me. I know it's OK if I come, because he made me come. They never tell me I can't. They just don't let me if they don't want me to.

She's already expended considerable energy, so when her frantic actions suddenly cause her to crash, I drag myself out of the way. He pulls her to his chest, rolls over, and drives deeply into her. She wails and grasps randomly at the sheets as he demolishes her. Her orgasm sets her to vibrating and screaming, and he doesn't give her any chance to recover. Soon, she's shaking and groaning constantly, filling the empty auditory space between the insistent slapping of their flesh.

When he ups the speed of his thrusts, I see a question on his face. Despite her closed eyes, she knows it's there as well, and she finds the strength to answer, "Yes." In no time, he buries himself in her and bites her shoulder as he explodes. They cling to each other as they drift downward before he rolls off her and into the middle of the bed, where he signals me to join them opposite her. I want to leap on his dick, or maybe be told to clean it off with my mouth, but I'm a good girl, so I settle in beside him as directed.

After a few quiet moments, her eyes drift open. "You know, she hasn't been fucked yet, and she and I have kinda done most of the work." She's smiling, but she means it.

"Hey. Dinner," he protests. "And you came three times. You're welcome. Plus, you forgot your strapon, so..." He gestures at his groin with his chin, "only convenient phallic object."

"Well," she begins to respond.

"Only convenient SANITARY phallic object. I already told you you're not fucking my rolling pin."

She sighs and turns a flat look on him. "I just said it looks like a a double dildo, not that I want to fuck it, freak. I was thinking of a fist, actually."

His eyes land on me. "Hrm."

She sizes me up for a moment. "I'm afraid I'd hurt her. Ever done that, sweetie?" I shake my head slowly, eyes wide. "Probably not a good idea then." She stretches across him to slip a hand between my legs and grab my pussy posessively. "Maybe we'll work up to it." I can't keep my hips from throwing themselves at her as I imagine how wonderfully it would hurt if she shoved her hand inside me then and there.

"So," she continues, "the throne is yours. She needs fucked. Make it happen."

He doesn't hesitate. "On your knees." I move quickly off the bed to comply, but when I'm in place, I notice he's still staring at her. "Both of you." Her blissful face catches fire, and she slides slowly off the bed, displaying herself fully for him before landing beside me. He sits on the edge of the bed in front of her. "Back there," he directs me, and I crawl the few feet necessary to kneel behind my mistress. "Both hands on her ass. Give it a good squeeze, and feel free to grind on her." I love when he makes me pleasure her, not that I'd ever miss an opportunity to make my mistress feel good. My hands tremble as I fill them with her succulent curves.

She's playing the part he wants perfectly. Of course, she's had me to study. Completely still, hands on her thighs, her patient smile is fixed on his face. He stands and then bends down to kiss her deeply. She moans into his mouth, and once again I have a front row seat that makes me immediately both envious and jealous. Doesn't he know that's my top he's kissing? Doesn't she know that's my top she's kissing? Oh my god, my tops are kissing, instead of fucking me. I press myself against her with a desperate whimper, which is OK, because he told me I could.

"Suck me, nice and slow," he tells her. She drags her tongue up the length of him before engulfing him and bobbing slowly. "Hold her tits up for me," he directs over his shoulder. I'm a good girl, so of course I don't hesitate to wrap my fingers around my mistress's spectacular breasts, lifting them and displaying them to him, pressing myself against her back and drowning in the floral scent of her hair. I'm sure neither of them will mind if I play with her nipples and give him a good show. My fingers clench around her weighty flesh when her muffled moan rattles through her chest and into mine.

He catches her hair lightly, just the head of his cock in her mouth. "I'm gonna fuck those amazing tits now." He nods over her shoulder at me. "I think she needs another show before I destroy her." He pulls my hands from her breasts, and her hands leap to replace them, lifting and pressing them together. She raises up, lets his dick drop free from her mouth and captures it, sliding her warm, soft flesh up and down his slick shaft.

His eyes roll back. The sight of her presenting herself, offering her delicious flesh for his use, would do that to anyone. I'm awed at the way she's totally in control by doing exactly what he told her to do. Of course, she has flawless tools for the job. A beckoning finger directs me to kneel beside them. When I'm in place, he nods to her, and she resumes, her grip tighter and her stroke faster. I fill my vision with her delicious flesh and his dick erupting from it, my ears full of his throaty rumbles.

After she tortures him for a few minutes by giving him exactly what he wants, he stops her with a hand on her shoulder. "Freeze." His thumb strokes her eyebrow gently, and the puzzle from earlier gets much clearer. Eventually he manages to tear his eyes from her to look at me. "Lick," he commands, and I leap to obey, shoving my face between her tits to swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, all the more energetic because he didn't need to use his hands. My eager mouth shows him how much I enjoy the way he owns my mind.

"We've been bad hosts," he offers suddenly while I drown happily in her cleavage. "We did tell her she was getting beaten. I think, since she's been so good, it's only fair that we both beat her." I turn my face sideways to lap at the head of his cock, cheeks resting on her flawless skin, which gives me a good view of him reaching down to stroke her cheek gently. "I could get used to having conversations like this."

"Then you better act like it," she warns him with a twinkle in her eye.

He smiles broadly. "Message received." His hands in my hair pull my face free. I like it when he owns my body, too. "On your feet, hands on the bed." I stand, but before I can move to the bed, he presses a hungry kiss into my mouth. I feel her shoulders brush my leg; she's still stroking him between her tits. A tingle climbs my skull as my mistress and I switch places in some of my favorite memories.

He pulls back from the kiss and gestures to the bed. I press my palms to the mattress and present my cute little butt to my owners who have used me so wonderfully tonight, giddy with anticipation of being beaten because I'm a good girl. "We did start with sides," he comments. Her palm crashing into my ass on her side is her only response. He paints a matching handprint on the other cheek, and soon I'm on fire from my back to my knees, despite being soaking wet. While they're beating me, I detach mentally, finding a space where I don't feel pain. All sensation is pleasure. It's a space that brings clarity, and I'm surprised and thrilled at what I find buried in a pile of conflicting emotion and sensation - a triangle made of pairs.

He takes me without warning beyond his hands on my hips, and I'm hurled back into my body on the end of his dick. He's shoving fire into me, and a scream that doesn't end until I run out of air fills the room. His thrusts steal the strength from my limbs, and soon she's holding me between her legs while he obliterates me.

"I want her face up," she tells him. "I like to watch her face."

"Yes, Mistress," he responds. She and I moan together. He flips me quickly, eager to resume his possession of my body.

"Open your eyes," she tells me softly, finger stroking my cheek. I do the best I can, but he keeps slamming them closed. Her wide smile tells me I'm a good girl anyway. I can't keep them open when the evening comes crashing down on me. I shake and jerk, control completely ripped from me. He empties himself inside me, his throaty groans stifled by the mouthful of flesh he takes from her thigh.

Our positions barely change as he drags me up the bed to what will be our final resting places, unless he wakes up to fuck me in the middle of the night. I jerk back to consciousness for a moment when his chest hair tickles my nose, and a deep breath finds unused space in my lungs when she presses herself against my back. Her hands clear my hair from my neck, and her lips move in. My tops share a long kiss right above my ear, and soon after we're a motionless pile.

Her sleepy voice intrudes at my last moment of awareness. "Man, the edible is just now kicking in. We gotta start with dessert next time."