Tales from The Lion's Den Pt. 02

She smiled, 'Oh yeah...'

The next cubicle was full of coloured shadows and fluttering silky hangings, the air full of scented smoke from an incense burner hanging from a post, large, soft cushions were scattered over a large, patterned carpet covering the floor. In the back corner, a man sat cross-legged playing a drum, the rhythm slow, hypnotic. In the middle of the room were two men, one dark, one pale, a slim, beautiful woman standing between them, honey blond hair falling in waves to her waist...

The first man had a bottle of oil in one hand, directing a thin stream onto the woman's shoulders, her back, her breasts, his other hand roaming over her back, her ass, her thighs, leaving her skin shiny, glistening.

The other man was standing behind her, his arms round her, stroking the oil over her breasts, her belly, then lower, between her legs, the cheeks of her ass.

The woman's eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her breath getting faster as the men worked, her breasts rising and falling as their hands spread the oil over her body, their own bodies becoming shiny, slippery with it too.

Sweetwater sucked in a breath and felt Dare tense behind her too, the muscles of the arm round her waist hard, rigid.

The drumbeats got louder, the rhythm like a beating heart, slowly getting faster...

Then the first man threw the oil bottle away and dropped to his knees, his cock hard, jutting up tall and thick, the head curving in front of his belly.

The woman lowered herself down, her hands on his shoulders, the man's arms under her thighs, taking her weight as she slowly sheathed herself on his waiting cock...

The second man dropped to his knees behind her, stroking her hair, her back, the spread cheeks of her ass, stroking more oil onto his cock with his other hand until he was glistening with it, his skin slick and slippery. Then he reared up, his cock thrusting between the full, rounded cheeks...

The woman gasped, her head falling back, her eyes closed and her mouth wide open...

The drumbeats got faster, harder, a driving rhythm...

Then all three of them were moving together, in a writhing dance that somehow followed the drumbeats, or the drumbeats followed them, Sweetwater wasn't sure, but all she knew was that it was beautiful, shocking, primal. She reached back, found Dare's hand, their fingers lacing together, gripping and she could feel all of him pressing against her, his cock a hard, thick ridge at the base of her spine.

'Dare?' she needed to go, needed him. Now. Right now.

He leaned close to her ear, his voice a hoarse, strained whisper that she heard above the drums. 'Stay with me, Sweet, deep breaths, remember the spaghetti.'

She laughed up at him, confused but back in the land of self control. 'What spaghetti?'

He winked, 'that's our safe word, babe.'

She nodded, took a deep breath. 'Spaghetti, I like it.'

Zara was suddenly in front of them, her eyes amused with a bit of challenge mixed in. 'The next cubicle's yours, are you ready?'