Power of Words - The Living Dead Ch. 09

"Of course, Empress."

That afternoon, Rimsky-Korsakov arrived with his manservant, known simply as Ali. He was, in fact, a shy young man of Middle Eastern descent who lived on the same floor of Genevieve and Francine's building. He had encountered Marie during previous time travel, another of the zombies in her life.

Empress Catherine met Ivan in the sumptuous foyer.

"I am so glad that you came to see me, Ivan."

"My pleasure, Empress. At your service."

"Indeed, you shall be. Come with me. Count Mamonov is here today visiting Lady Genevieve in her suite. I'll have my lady-in-waiting entertain your man Ali while we are otherwise occupied. She will be happy to see him, I'm sure," she told him before turning to her lady.

"Francine. Take our visitor's man to your room and keep him occupied for a few hours."

"Yes, my lady," she smiled, pleased with what she had been told to do.

Soon a parallel set of events soon began to unfold in the Winter Palace: Empress Catherine with her new lover Rimsky-Korsakov, Lady Genevieve with Count Mamonov, and lady-in-waiting Francine with manservant Ali. They represented different stations in life, but all were driven by the same carnal desires, that cold late-afternoon.

Catherine was eager to be skewered again by Ivan's big cock, so she hurried him into her private quarters and quickly removed his clothing. Then she was on her knees taking it in her hand, showering it with kisses. His appendage quickly stretched to formidable size with her oral care, leaving Rimsky-Korsakov groaning with pleasure. He eventually reached down and pulled the Empress to her feet so he wouldn't end the encounter before it really heated up.

"Come to bed, Empress, that we might fuck again. Let me help you out of your gown, since your lady is not here. She's probably doing the same with my man, don't you think?"

"I have no doubt. I know her to be a hot little bitch, especially fond of young men's cocks. He is likely down her throat as we speak!"

The Empress was absolutely right. In her own room next door, lady-in-waiting Francine and manservant Ali were naked and in ecstasy. His swollen rod was indeed probing her tonsils as she fondled his balls with one hand and pulled him into her mouth with the other. Streams of saliva fell from her lips as she deepthroated the stiff young man. His breath was coming in sharp bursts, then Francine pushed him away so she could catch her own.

"Amazing cock-sucker! Amazing!" Ali babbled in praise of her skills.

Then he pressed inward again, with his hands gripping her red curly locks. Yes, Francine was especially fond of young men's cocks, just as her Empress had said.

Back in Catherine's big bed, her young lover, Rimsky-Korsakov, had her flat on her back and spread wide for his fingers. He knelt by her head, feeding his cock into her mouth again, before swinging his body above her, with his head to her feet. There he crouched like a hungry animal above her, while his Empress gobbled down his engorged tool.

Then he brought his head down to her pussy and balanced on one hand, using the other to hold her pussy lips wide open. Quickly it became a royal soixante-neuf, two greedy mouths devouring two eager organs. Ivan gathered Marie's tender clitoris between his lips and sucked hard as she moaned in complete ecstasy.

In the lady-in-waiting's chamber, young Ali was much less creative. After Francine's expert sucking, he could think of nothing more than his raging urge to fuck her senseless. He pushed her onto her back and scrambled into position between her open legs. His cock was literally throbbing with the need to thrust into her, but she pushed against him with both hands to slow him down.

"Slowly, Ali. Slowly. You'll split me in two if you rush!" Francine hissed urgently.

"Yes. Yes. I must fuck you now! I must! I must!" he urged.

Ali cried out so loudly in his arousal that his voice carried through the walls and into Lady Genevieve's private quarters beyond the head of Francine's bed. There, she and Count Mamonov had not progressed to this point. They had been drinking together on a divan, and he was still making slow advances, touching her tits and kissing. But hot-to-fuck Genevieve was impatient with his slow moves.

"Really Count, you should be more like the young man who is with the Empress' handmaiden right now. We will make love, but you must hurry it up! Her Majesty expects me to report on your talents. Take off your clothing and come to my bed. Now!"

Count Mamonov didn't want to disappoint the Lady or the Empress, so he reached to unfasten her garments as she turned her back to him. Quickly they were gone, revealing her succulent nipples and lithe body. He threw off his own clothing as fast as possible, scooped up his naked hostess and carried her to her bed. In short order they progressed almost as far along as the other two couples nearby.

An explosion of sexual energy was breaking out in the Winter Palace that cold afternoon. Six players in three separate scenes had abandoned themselves to their passions without a thought for anything else. All of them had plunged deep into energic thrusting and heaving of cock and pussy, with the all-consuming need to reach shattering orgasms.

Ivan Rimsky-Korsakov was balls-deep in Catherine the Great's silken tunnel, his young muscles driving his manhood right to the bottom. Lubricants gushed around his rod, easing its tight grip against the walls which encased it. The Empress' generous breasts pressed tight against his chest as he plied her first from on top and then reclining on their sides. But like earlier, his fitness far exceeded her own, and she was tiring. It was time to take her from behind.

Ali had met his match and then some with Francine, the lady-in-waiting. She directed the proceedings, ordering him first this way, then that to maximize her satisfaction. She liked it a bit rough, no doubt a habit based on her earlier life experience as one of the Marquis de Sade's abused sex slaves, captured by pirates and sold to him.

Therefore, she told her afternoon lover to lightly squeeze his hand around her throat as he pounded into her vigorously while standing at the foot of the bed. Then, fucking from behind, he was ordered to pull her head back by the hair. It was a bit sadistic, but she loved this kind of raw sex.

Lady Genevieve and Count Mamonov finally found their grove too. He lay on his back with the lovely blonde straddling him, his cock buried to the balls in her pussy. She taunted him with a visual feast, pulling at her pink nipples and twisting them into sharp peaks. Then she brought one hand to her vulva and began to rub her clitoris, while spouting dirty words about how good it felt. He responded by lifting up each time she rocked against his groin.

None of them could last much longer. All of them were struggling to maintain the hellish pace of their intercourse. But nobody wanted to quit.

They may have been in separate rooms of the Winter Palace, but imagine one wild spectacle of sound and fury. In each room, the partners were gasping for air and crying out in their arousal, driving on their partner. They were all reaching higher in a great crescendo, like the final notes of an enthusiastic orchestra led by a frenzied maestro. No doubt they could hear one another between the adjacent chambers.

And then they began to climax- the heaving bodies; the clenching muscles; the rasping climb to the very top; followed by the sudden eruption of massive orgasms. Catherine and Rimsky-Korsakov, Genevieve and Mamonov, Francine and Ali- all of them felt pleasure every bit as good as any they had experienced before.

Afterwards there was only a short time to rest, because the visit to another time and place was quickly ending. The travelers had been so immersed in their pleasure that they had overstayed their time in Russia. The words from the old book began to swirl above them in broad circles, like leaves caught in a spiraling wind. As the circles grew smaller, the words fell back to the page from which they had lifted several hours before.

Very soon, the three women found themselves back on Marie's sofa in the dark. But now they were stark naked, their bodies filled with the creamy evidence of their recent adventure. The old book had led to much pleasure in the arms of the living dead, zombies from another time. Now they were exhausted from their labours, too tired to shower; too weary to do anything but sleep.

****

The next morning, the three women slept late. Marie roused herself from the sofa and wandered half-dazed to the bathroom to shower. She found it already occupied by Genevieve and Francine, who evidently had shared her bed last night. Marie went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee while she waited her turn under the warm water.

A half hour later they sat in the kitchen talking about the night before.

"Absolutely amazing, Marie. I must confess that I was very skeptical about his whole Power of Words business before yesterday. Now I know that it's real," one of the visitors confessed.

"I suppose you both would like to do it all again, I mean to some other time and place?" Marie asked.

"Is the sex always that good? I mean that manservant gave me the best damn fucking I've had in centuries!" Francine enthused.

"Yes, every time I've read from the old books it's been like that."

"So, where will we go next time, Marie?"

"I've always wanted to meet Napoleon," she replied. "How's that sound to you?"

"Will he fuck us?" Genevieve asked eagerly.

"I'm sure he will," Marie replied.

Genevieve and Francine were most definitely in agreement with that!

Please rate the story. The Napoleon episode is in the works. Thanks.