Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
"No higher, where it feels the best."
Her finger moved up to the top of her crease to where the folds of her labia embraced her clitoral bud. "Stroke it," he murmured. Her finger moved merely obligingly at first over her folds, and then as the sensations began, slipped beneath it to meet the rising swelling of her clitoris.
"Good" he approved, "Now make it as big and hard as you can."
Her massage was practiced and firm, a steady swirling tempo that uncovered the increasingly turgid bud beneath it. The harlequin drew nearer, his hands moving from her knees to press firmly against the insides of her thighs. "Show me," he ordered again. Using her fore and index fingers Denise pressed against the sides of her clitoris until it lifted from between her labia.
"Make it bigger," he demanded. She resumed her swirling massage and as her sensations resumed she could see his excitement mounting. "I want you to really spread your legs for me, now." She opened her knees even more. "No, like this." He lifted her feet to the cushions, forcing her back in the couch, her knees folded and her legs utterly spread before him. He studied the entire revelation of her vulva and the deep dimple of her anus while he stroked her innermost thighs with his wand, moving at last to rest upon her clitoral hood, touching it gently with his wand "Now make it even bigger," he commanded.
The sensations within her were pure delight now and 'making it bigger' was really all she wanted to do. The harlequin studied the result with satisfaction as her pudenda unfolded before him. Her generous outer folds that he had noted with such satisfaction moments earlier were now even more swollen and engorging to pinkness, and her long neat dark inner lips had emerged into moist turgid erection. Glistening pearls of fluid were forming between them and trickling over the sides. "Use your other hand," he commanded, and stroke your folds with your fingers while you make it even bigger."
She moved to obey, her middle fingers finding and caressing first her fleshy outer lips and then the outer margins of her inner folds where the sensations were becoming utterly delicious. She had to move now, to express for him all this pleasure flowing within her. Even her buttocks were hardening, lifting her closer to his face in alternating spasms of contraction and relaxation.
He nodded with encouragement without ever taking his eyes from her obedient hands. "You have something else to show me don't you?" he said.
"Yes", she whispered, her stroking fingers slipping between her inner folds. "But you must wait until I'm ready." "I have all the time in the world to watch." "I want you to watch. Am I beautiful?" "Utterly exquisite. It feels marvelous doesn't it." "Yes, especially right here," she sighed her fingers traveling in quick circuits within her inner lips, and it is so big now that I'm almost ready. What do you want to see?" "I want to see inside you."
"You want me to open myself up?" "Yes," he nodded hearing the climatic tension in her voice, and wrenching his eyes away from the feast he glanced up at her face. "Then look," she gasped spreading wide her folds, her orgasm shuddering down through her loins and quivering in her wet turgid lips.
Her hymen glistened before him unbroken. He stared incredulously at this treasure while her hips rocked in a crescendo of spasms and subsided. Breathless she stared down at him. "Is that what you wanted?" she whispered, withdrawing her hands, closing and collapsing her legs on the couch. The harlequin rose to stand over her and she could see the hard bulge of his erection before her face as he groped for his waistband. She slithered to the side struggling to slip her free foot into the covering of her body stocking. He watched her tugging at the tangle until she had drawn it over her ankles and then he was upon her trapping her legs, forcing her knees apart again while he fumbled between them at his waist.
Beneath him she struggled desperately against the arm he had thrust against her chest like an iron bar. She felt the heat of his skin against hers, his hand rough on her inner thigh forcing her open again, and the hard blunt club of his phallus searching for the opening she had just denied him. She felt his hips rise and twisted hers wildly to thwart the penetration of his rigid organ aimed at her hymen. The sound of a sharp hard 'thwack' filled her ears followed by a wild yelp of pain and harlequin recoiled wildly from between her legs and landed on the floor amidst the shattered pieces of the caduceus.
Desperately, Denise stared up at the golden mask and the winged helmet. The arm reached down and she clasped it with her hands, letting its strength carry her from the couch while the other slipped beneath her knees to lift her against the golden breastplate.
"Oh Zack!" was all she could utter, her arms encircling his neck, and the relief sweeping through her.
"What are you up to, girl?" he muttered.
"I am so stupid!" she sobbed looking back over his shoulder at the harlequin massaging the red welt rising across his bottom, and at the ring of amused spectators emerging from the shadows to gape at them.
"Were they watching?" she gasped.
"Of course they were, that was some encore, Denise."
"I've got so much to learn," she sighed helplessly.
"Bountiful Towers is not the place to do it."
"I know," she sighed. He carried her past the row of Olympias and found a place at last in the shadows of a partition where she could collect herself. The remains of her body stocking, stretched and gaping with runs would have to serve. "I look awful" she said miserably, pulling it on and tugging at the ribbons dangling from her hair.
"Oh, I don't know," Zack chuckled, "it gives you a roguish look."
"Maybe I should just go without it. Everybody else is."
"They're not exactly stark naked, my dear," he chuckled and unfastened the mantle from his shoulders. "Can you make this do?"
She wrapped the deep maroon drape about herself thoughtfully. "Yes," but I'm going to get rid of this," and she stripped out of the body stocking. In a moment she had draped the mantle from her shoulder to encircle her hips leaving one breast bare. "How do I look?" she asked, tucking her ribbons into her hair. "Like a beautiful young girl with nothing on but a tiny toga. 'Smashing' in other words."
Denise peeped out at the strollers in the Gallery. "Will you stay with me?" "Of course, but wouldn't you rather just go back to the dressing rooms and wait until we leave? After all you were nearly raped just now."
"That's show bis!" she shrugged.
Zack shook his head in amused wonder, "Guess so," he muttered giving her his arm and they stepped out into the floodlights.
*****
Cliff glanced down at the woman beside him with delight as they strolled the gallery. The movements of Katia's arm threaded through his were easy and in a natural harmony with his own stride, the touch of her hand on the back of his hand offered little strokes in lieu of the words that she didn't speak over the music from tonight's performance echoing throughout the space.
He filled her silences with his own chatter and the rhythms of her body beside him were the responses he truly wanted to hear. Katia listened as much to the resonance of his baritone as to his words, dropping a question or an answer here and there when needed, her eyes feasting on the sumptuous visions glowing on the walls beside her.
His voice dimmed suddenly in her consciousness filled with the gorgeous Reid ahead of them. The painting floodlit on a partition of its own drew and held her not only with its luscious impressionist beauty but also the woman depicted within it.
The model, her chin resting upon her hand and gazing with total absorption at the marvelous display of the Passion-Flower before her could have been Sarah herself.
There was a remarkable resemblance in the fair beauty of her features, in the rapt study in her eyes, even in the way her hair framed her face and was held at her nape between this woman of a hundred and fifty years ago and the woman she had first met at the dinner on the night of her arrival in The Court. Katia paused before the painting, sipping the wine from her glass and rolling it leisurely over her tongue, playing with the implications. "She looks like Sarah doesn't she?" Cliff exclaimed.
"Incredibly." Katia returned, her gaze studying the model's undraped breasts and turgid nipples. "Won't she be wondering where you are, Cliff?"
"No doubt," he sighed, "but she's occupied elsewhere tonight."
"With Vi?"
"Who else."
"Does it bother you?"
"Not as much as my being with you would bother her." Cliff responded. "I told her about our swim and that you blew me."
Katia chuckled, "Why did you tell her?"
"I live my own life. I don't have anything to hide."
"I can relate to that," she smiled. "Was she angry?"
"Not really," he said indifferently. "She's getting her jollies too, with Vi." Katia found his insouciance reassuring. Men like Cliff avoided deep entanglements and wearisome amours leaving one free to live for one's calling. Vivienne was more like Sarah she reflected studying the open expression on the face of woman in the painting. Love making with Vi was an art in itself she mused, no doubt just what Sarah needed. Katia finished her wine in a little salute to the thought, placed her glass by the painting and turned to her next adventure.
The gallery drawing them from one space to the next left her doe-skin clad dancers behind, and promenading on Cliff's arm in her Chloe costume Katia drew appreciative comments from the few strollers they passed.
But within her impatience was stirring, an urge to relief, a need to expend the tension that the dance had roused and left unsatisfied. Ahead of them soft light filtering from behind a screen promised a measure of the privacy she sought and she nudged him towards the space.
Within they found themselves in a recess lined with photographs, magnificent enlargements of the human figure in black and white by photographers whose names echoed only dimly in her memory but whose work blazed forth on these walls with a power that shook her. A single chair on a swivel dominated the space. The music from tonight's ballet washing over the gallery outside focused here in a soft clear ambiance that infused her limbs and prompted her into the familiar steps of the dance as she examined the photos. Here were athletic boys and girls posed and cropped into shapes and combinations that she felt in every fiber of her being, that roused her kinesthetic senses and heightened her need.
Cliff slumped into the chair, lifted his Ares mask and watched her pausing here and there to take in the embrace of the girls with their entwining thighs and merging breasts; the close cropped side view of the boy embracing the girl from behind, their bodies so similar and so different; the young men lithe and dark with bold phalluses, and especially the one in full erection with his back arched like a bow. This one held her. As the music swelled Katia's body moved into Chloe's slow limpid dance of supplication, and when the passage ended and she turned to Cliff she was naked. She danced before him then in the incredible beauty of the Sunrise music, and everything that he had glimpsed before was utterly revealed again, but with a measure of sensuousness in movement that roused him utterly into the reality of what she had just worshipped in the photo.
When she came to him and lifted his chiton her hand upon him was not the hurried stroke he had felt in the pond, but was instead the bold unhesitant possession of need, full of savor and expectation.
His pleasure at her readiness to accept him was exceeded only by the utter satisfaction of his penetration into her. Her dance then upon his lap was a revelation surpassing his most erotic impressions of what the ballet had been.
Her movements upon him beginning with the slow limpid beauty of the music rose with its crescendo to the utter abandon of their climax in the bacchanal that left her spent and limp, but still unwilling to release him from the caress of her vagina.
"Can you feel that?" she whispered contracting upon his flaccidity.
He nodded with surprise at her resilience when she resumed her embrace of his organ before he was ready.
"I haven't had a man in a long time" she sighed slipping away from him to kneel between his knees and lift her mouth to his phallus. The hunger in her lips, her tongue, in the caving contractions of her cheeks embraced him and he surged to meet the need in her mouth but it was many moments of utter delight for him before she had satiated herself upon his erection.
When she withdrew from him at last and gazed upon his glistening rigid phallus her eyes were bright with desire gazing looked over it and up into his face. "How many hands are you?" she crooned encircling him at the base with one hand and placing the other atop it. "Two and a half at least! More than enough for what I especially love."
"Anything to make you happy, " Cliff urged thickly.
Katia turned and this time with her back to his chest straddled his lap again. Arching her back against him she raised her arm and slipped one hand behind his head while the other guided his gift to her vagina settling upon his rigidity with a moan of relief.
Cliff lifted his hand to her breasts measuring their unseen shapes with his fingers, massaging their firmness out to her hardened nipples while her lowered hand found and explored his globes, stroked up his shaft to where it plunged between her labia, and settled at last upon the center of her pleasure.
"Just hold me and feel my breasts," she whispered.
"Like this?"
"Yes, only harder. Pinch my nipples."
He obeyed and her lower hand swirled upon her clitoris with his savoring her movements. "I'll let you feel my clit if you promise you won't make me come too soon." His hand slipped under hers and explored every nuance of her petals embracing the sides of his swollen phallus.
"I love to be filled like this" she moaned, her fingers chasing his up and down her labial lips and returning to the magic under her hooded clitoris her eyes drifting over the images upon the walls before her. "What's your favorite picture?" he asked, reading her fascination in the movement of her head tucked next to his. "I love them all, but two turn me on the most. Guess which ones!"
As he swiveled them to face the young man in full erection Katia tightened her vulva in a quick pulsing confirmation of his choice and he felt her nipples collapse again into hard little buds under his fingers. They went then from one picture to the next in this sensual semaphore, settling at last upon to the two embracing girls and reading there her intense excitement, he stayed with this image that seized him as well.
"They're beautiful aren't they," Katia whispered feeling his turgidity swell within her. "You'd like to have two like that wouldn't you, Cliff?" she crooned, meeting his thrust of assent with one of her own. "It's delicious, I can tell you," she sighed receiving his mounting excitement into her self and fanning them both into fire with a cascade of incredibly athletic movements and brought them to the verge as only a dancer could. "Do you like girls?" he gasped with pleasure.
"Love them! Boys too!" she whispered letting herself expand into the fullness of her climax carrying him over the abyss with her. They subsided together then, content at last, though she held him dreamily, her hand stroking yet behind his head. "Do you like what I 'especially love'?" she teased.
"It's exquisite," he agreed. "Just a sample of your repertory, I'm sure, but a particularly delightful one."
"She nodded. "Just a sample. Did you know that's the way the girls in ancient Rome sacrificed their virginity, seated on the lap of the god, Pan?" "Lucky guy."
"He had a marble phallus. It never failed, but I prefer the real thing, there's so much more variety."
"In that case you should find yourself well satisfied here." The voice came from behind them and Katia, turning her head with a start over Cliff's shoulder, beheld a figure in mask and magician's cape in the doorway to the recess. "Please continue with your pleasure, and accept my invitation to explore the endless satisfactions we offer for as long as you choose. We would be most pleased with another performance, Mademoiselle, of the ballet in a fortnight. In the meantime everything you require for your comfort, your pleasure, and your work is at your disposal."
Katia glanced incredulously into Cliff's face. "Why not?" he proposed happily, smiling into her surprised eyes.
"I am delighted that you accept. This evening is but a prelude to endless delights," The Patron intoned and before Katia could respond he was gone.
"A fortnight! I can't stay here for two weeks!" she exclaimed, slipping from Cliff's lap.
"But we're just getting started," he protested. This place is a perpetual turn on."
"My work turns me on. There are too many distractions here. My dancers would be screwing themselves silly, and too much satisfaction takes the edge off your inspiration. No. No. We're going back to The Court tonight!"
He watched her slip back into the little shift, her nakedness at delicious full stretch before it vanished under her costume, and with that the enchanting temptress metamorphosed into the no- nonsense ballet-mistress.
Disappointed, disgruntled, Cliff followed her out into the gallery, pacing in her wake as she retraced her steps back to the buffet where her troop had already gathered. The sight of Denise all but bare-breasted erased any hesitation and Katia collared the young man tending the buffet. "Get Orcutt for me," she ordered staring at him while he spoke into his pager. "All right everyone, we're leaving now for The Court. We've been invited back for an encore performance in two weeks."
Her announcement generated a spattering of applause among her dancers preparing to take leave of the crowd of admirers now escorting them, and amidst them Denise turned to Zack.
"Thanks for looking out for me," she offered. "I'd be rather worse for the wear if it wasn't for you tonight."
"You've created quite a sensation you know. This place is all abuzz with the news that Daphnis' seductress is really a virgin."
"Well that's the way with us virgins, isn't it?" Denise raised on demi-pointe, kissed him on the lips, and with a wave followed her troop to the elevators.
Reluctantly Zack watched her go before he turned to Cliff. "Where's your mask, Ares?"
"Fuck the mask," Cliff grunted.
"Oh I think we can do better than that!" Zack chuckled.
*****
Glancing up Sarah caught sight of Orcutt's tall angular form threading his way towards them and they rose together to meet him. He opened his hands apologetically. "It appears we have a bit of a problem. Nothing that can't be resolved but naturally we keep a very close eye on the activities of the Slavers. It seems Sarah that you have come to their attention. They have a rather remarkable video of you and they are quite eager to find you. Your security is of course of the greatest importance to us and it would clearly be in your best interest to stay here in Bountiful Towers until such time as it is safe for you to return to The Court. I'm sure that you also agree with this course Vivienne, and that you see fit to protect yourself similarly. It would be most disturbing to have the slavers pick you up if you left here tonight."
"Damn it, Orcutt," Vivienne exclaimed, "Where is Zack?"
"Your consorts are both in the company of some of our most vivacious entertainers and seem to be very content to remain there for some time. If you will follow me we have a lovely suite in readiness for you and Sarah."
