Red or Black?

"I hope you aren't going to waste that?" I hear Black say in the corner of my hearing, as I resign myself to having been pulled completely, relentlessly, uncomplaining into the game they've been playing with me since that first day I took them running. I had been their prey from the start, the trap was sprung, but there was no way I was going to be chewing my own leg off to escape.

I leant forward, and was rewarded with the mouth-watering scent of her, musky, spicy scent, mixed with the sweet vanilla of the dessert. Hands on her thighs, I leant in and swept my tongue up her glistening slit. I was in heaven, and there was no way I was stopping there, as I'm sure was the intention. I lapped, licked, sucked and flicked, for all I was worth, not sure if I was cleaning, tasting, lusting, but as I sucked her clit between my lips, and started flicking my tongue across it, she bucked her hips against my face as her hands came down to stop me moving my head away. As if I'd ever be doing that!

As she did so, I just happened to glance sideways, to see Black's legs spread wide, her swimsuit pulled to the side, with two fingers in her pussy and another flicking across her clit, her abdomen heaving with her heavy breathing.

Red bucked her hips against my face, silently, furiously as I continued my tongue-lashing, and then slid a finger into her and up against the underside of her clit. Wham, that was it, she almost pushed me back on my heels as her pussy heaved against me, she sighed deeply and went slack. At the edge of my senses, I was aware of a high pitched squeal, suppressed as much as possible as Black tensed and then relaxed, fingers buried deep in herself.

I stood to see both Black and Red drinking deeply from their wineglasses, with Mr and Mrs Sherman looking on, with gentle applause.

"I seem to have got most of it miss." I said, wiping my face on the napkin.

"You've been wonderfully attentive all evening, your service has been faultless." says Black as she transfixes me with her dark brown eyes, "But how far, and how personal does it go? I think we'd like to take our coffee and nightcap back in the cabin, and your personal service would be appreciated more than you can imagine."

How could I refuse? Mostly because I had a pretty good imagination. I wonder if theirs could match it?