The Taking of Amy

"So how did it feel," I asked her, "to have all the men in the room want you and probably most of the women too?"

When she looked shocked, I whispered, "I know Victor did."

Her body shuddered in my arms. She tried for a brief moment to pull away, but I was holding her too firmly.

"Don't look so shocked, sweetheart," I said, softly stroking her hair, "I would be alarmed if he didn't notice beauty like yours. Our marriage is honest. We admit that we can be attracted to other people. He plays the field when the fancy takes him. We both do."

I lowered my voice to whisper in her ear.

"And occasionally, he brings his latest conquest into our bed and we toy with her all night."

Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Time, I thought, for the final twist of the knife.

"You know, when I said earlier that most of the women in the room probably wanted you, that included me."

She moaned softly at my words. I lifted her face up with a finger under her chin.

"Are you upset, sugar, that I said that?" I asked her gently.

She lowered her eyes, unable or unwilling to meet mine.

"No," she mumbled into the skin of my throat.

After a pause during which she seemed to be resolving some inner struggle, she said, with a tone of wonder in her voice, "I'm actually flattered that you would want me."

"Who wouldn't want you?" I asked, "You are so sweet, so innocent, so heartbreakingly beautiful."

I gave her a moment to ruminate and then decided to take the plunge.

"Come home with us tonight, sweetheart," I coaxed.

When she seemed about to speak, I silenced her with a finger on her lips. They were trembling.

"Don't say anything now. Think about it and give me an answer in the car."

We gently disengaged as Victor returned to the table.

"Are my lovely ladies ready to leave?"

"Yes, we are," Amy replied, with a new firmness.

As the car pulled away from the curb and the lights of the restaurant began to fade behind us, I drew her into my arms and kissed her softly on her lips. She was tense for a moment, her eyes anxiously scanning Victor's face for any sign of displeasure. When he smiled warmly, her body finally melted into mine.

I knew only too well what Amy was going through. I remembered, as though it were yesterday, the first time I had been kissed by a woman. I remembered drowning in the softness, being drunk on her taste. Amy's lips yielded readily to mine. She began to moan as I nibbled her lip, sucked the soft wet flesh into my mouth and painted wet trails of desire on her tongue. When my hand slid upwards from her knees, her thighs parted to let me softly cup her mound.

When I finally broke our kiss and retreated, she followed, searching for my lips blindly, her forehead furrowed in a sweet frown, making urgent little noises in the back of her throat. Her hips began to surge, softly pushing her crotch into my palm. She no longer needed to answer my question. Her body was doing it for her.

"Be patient, my pet," I whispered as I gently blew into her ear, "We're going to take you soon enough."

When we arrived at our villa, I helped her out of the car and supported her in the driveway with an arm around her waist as the vehicle pulled away. When the taillights finally disappeared into the darkness, Victor scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. He waited patiently while I opened the door and then carried her to the main bedroom.

When he placed her softly on the edge of the huge four-poster bed, she sat quietly, her hands in her laps, her fingers twining. For a long moment, both of us just drank in the vision on our bed -- of Amy sitting patiently, her head bowed, now a little shy and uncertain, not knowing what the night would bring her. For our part, we were determined that the night would bring her pleasure so intense, so devouring that she would be unable to bear it.

I slipped off my shoes, climbed onto the bed and slid behind her. I reached around her body, gathered her tiny hands in mine and gently lifted them above her head. She looked so open then, so vulnerable that my pussy ached at the thought that we would claim that fragile little body tonight. As she obeyed my wordless command and kept her arms raised above her head, I gripped the hem of her half tee and peeled it off her body. As I did, the hem caught on her nipples for a fraction of a second and then flipped loose, making her soft breasts bounce deliciously.

I tossed her tiny t-shirt on the floor and then slid backwards on my knees taking her with me until she was lying flat on her back on the bed with her head resting on my lap and her legs dangling off the edge. Her pale breasts looked so ripe and luscious that for a moment I was tempted to cup them with my palms and softly knead them. I wanted to hear her moan as I worked her flesh. But there is time for that, I warned myself. Make her wait. Make her seethe. ... Make her beg.

I nodded at Victor who seemed transfixed by the erotic vision spread out before his gaze. He tore his eyes away from her breasts and lifted her legs, one by one, to slide off her high-heeled shoes. He gently massaged the sole of each foot with his hands, restoring the circulation. She sighed with contentment in my arms. She barely noticed Victor's fingers undo the clasp of her shorts or unzip her, even though the room was so quiet I could hear each metal tooth of the zipper tear loose.

"Raise your hips, sweetheart," I cooed.

As she did, Victor gently peeled off her shorts and her lace panties, which were still wet from her little performance at the restaurant and sticking to her skin. She was finally naked. We had both held many eager bodies in our arms -- more than would bear counting -- but we had rarely seen anything so beautiful.

Her pussy was so perfectly formed -- like a delicate shell or an exotic flower. Her outer lips were already swollen and had parted to reveal the soft pink flesh within which was shimmering with the juices that had pooled in her slit. Her clit was unusually long, the pink tip peeking out of its fleshy hood. Her sex was framed by a dusting of golden curls, neatly trimmed, which were glinting in the soft light. Our eyes met over her body and they held the same hunger, the same burning need, the same wonder that this miracle was ours tonight. Victor was almost drooling. I shook my head gently. He closed his eyes with a shudder and fought the impulse to bury his face in her crotch and to taste that sublime flesh.

It is a curse to be so beautiful, I thought. I imagined that her earlier erotic encounters were probably unsatisfactory, hurried fumbles that left her wanting. For what man could resist, after a glimpse of that promised land, the urge to soak himself immediately in her flesh?

"My God, you are beautiful," I marveled.

She blushed, suddenly all too aware that she was stark naked while we were still fully clothed.

"Would you like to see him naked?" I asked her softly.

"Yes ... please."

Her eyes never left his body as it unfurled from the clothes that he carelessly discarded on the floor. By the time he was naked, he was already hard and erect. As she looked at him, his cock twitched and she gasped, her thighs opening of their own accord, offering him the homage of her cunt. My God, she is so hungry, I thought.

"Do you like him, baby?" I asked her.

"Yes ... Oh, God, yes," she stammered.

"Good, because you're his to use tonight."

That brutal assertion of ownership, the sudden realization that tonight her body wasn't hers, that it was ours to savor seemed to arouse her and her thighs parted even more in an unconscious act of submission.

"Would you like to see me naked too?" I asked.

She nodded dumbly. She seemed too overwhelmed to speak. I gently eased her head onto the sheet and then stood up on the bed, above her. I slid the dress off my shoulders and it pooled on the bed in a rustle of silk. I wasn't wearing a bra. When her gaze fell on the soft underside of my pert breasts, I heard her sharp inward breath. As I drew my panties over my thighs, shin and ankles to finally toss them aside, she moaned. Her eyes were riveted to my bare, smooth shaven pussy, which was already shining with the evidence of my arousal.

"So beautiful," she mouthed, her fingers sliding up my shin and past my knees towards the wet flower of my sex. I let her get very close, within a breath of my cunt, before I slapped her fingers away. She yelped, an injured look on her face.

"Not so fast, sweetie. You are not getting to touch that for a long time."

"Why? ... I want to," she whined fetchingly.

"Because we are going to play with you first," I teased, "and do unspeakably delicious things to your body."

She shivered in anticipation and rewarded me with an impish little smile. She shrieked as Victor suddenly scooped her up in his arms, walked around the bed and laid her on her back in the middle of it. We clambered on, on either side of her. Her eyes drifted between the two of us, wondering what we had in mind.

I dipped my head and ran the tip of my tongue along her quivering lip, tracing its outline in a slow, sensuous circle. She moaned quietly as I tasted her. As her lips parted to draw my tongue into her mouth, Victor grabbed a fistful of her hair and twisted her towards him. He held her like that for a long moment, his lips almost touching hers, his breath teasing her skin to let her sense her own powerlessness. When she finally whimpered, desperate for the relief of his lips, he kissed her ... hard, almost bruising her flesh.

When he released her, she was gasping for air. I placed my palm gently against her cheek, turned her towards me and then soothed her swollen bruised lips with one long wet lick. When I sucked her flesh softly into my mouth, she groaned. Soft, hard ...soft, hard. That's the way it was going to be tonight. I knew it would drive her wild. Much more of this and the synapses in her brain would begin to misfire and her mind would slowly disintegrate. And then, when she was wallowing in that secret place where pleasure is a constant and raw sensation the only truth, we would finally take her sweet little cunt.

As we passed her back and forth, for her soft trembling lips to be abused and to be consoled, her body began to jerk, her back arching off the sheets, offering us the sweet mounds of her breasts. Incoherent little noises were issuing from her lips, but I knew what she wanted. She wanted to be touched, to be fondled, to be caressed. She wanted more ... Oh, God, so much more ... than we were giving her. I smiled at her eagerness.

"Do you want us to touch you?" I asked.

"Oh, God, yes ... please," she stammered.

"You have only to ask," I whispered as my hand rose to her breast.

I fluttered my fingers over her right nipple, dusting it with the faintest of caresses. She moaned, pleasure mixing in her eyes with something like regret that she had asked for this -- this fleeting touch that would set her nerves on fire, but leave her thirst unquenched.

And then, Victor's thumb and forefinger closed around her left nipple, squeezing it hard and tugging until the weight of her breast was suspended from that puckered nub. She screamed and her body flung itself off the sheets, trying vainly to relieve the pressure on her nipple. We eased her trembling body down and then began to play. While my fingertips danced over her milky globe, Victor kneaded the breast that he had claimed, squeezing, milking, massaging. Her eyes were wild, her mind already confused by the flood of opposing sensation.

"Do you like what we are doing to you, baby?" I asked.

"... Yes," she managed.

"If our fingers can do this to you, can you imagine what our tongues can do?" I whispered.

"Oh, God," she groaned, "What are you doing to me?"

"Just driving you slowly insane, sweetheart," I cooed.

I spoke the truth.

I shifted my weight on the bed and slowly ran the flat of my tongue wetly along the tip of her right nipple. Her lips parted in a shuddering sigh that lasted as long as that endless lick. Victor was right on cue. He bit down firmly on her left nipple. She shrieked. And then he began to softly chew the rubbery flesh of that rosy peak.

She couldn't seem to stop trembling. Her hands rose to gently hold my head and Victor's to press our faces into her heaving orbs, almost as if she were fearful that our lips may abandon her at any moment. We had given her no reason to believe that we might not. But for now, we were content to devour those quivering globes.

I worshipped the perfection of that sweet soft orb by nibbling and nipping her skin, sometimes pausing to trail my tongue wetly over her flesh. As I circled her breast, teasing, tasting; I kept returning to her nipple to suck it softly again and again into the wet cavern of my mouth. I gazed into her eyes, now glazed over with lust, as I drew her nipple out from between my lips, trailing a silvery thread of spit. That gloriously fragile connection between our heaving hungry bodies made my pussy lurch.

Next to me, Victor was sucking greedy mouthfuls of her flesh hard enough to leave pink circles on her pale flesh. Her breasts would be a sight when we were done, I thought. Her right globe, flushed with excitement, but smooth as milk and her left marked by the soft bruises of Victor's need.

As we ravished her tits, her legs were opening and closing fitfully. She was rubbing her thighs together in a desperate attempt to ease the tension building in her body. My little baby needs her pussy stroked, I mused.

We moved almost as one. Our hands reached out to claim the soft inner flesh of her thighs to flatten her on the sheets. Deprived of the relief, however evanescent, of movement, her body arched, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her fingers tightened in our hair and a strangled moan issued from her lips. I shook my head loose from her grip and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"You are so hungry. Tell us what you want, baby."

"Touch me ... please."

"Where? ... Tell me where."

Her lips were gurgling.

"You know ..." she gasped finally, "there ... between my legs."

"Oh, we already are," I said flatly.

She groaned at my cruel masquerade, my pretence not to understand.

"Oh, God ... touch my pussy ... please."

Her body shuddered while she said it, aroused by the act of pleading so graphically for what she wanted.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I asked her in a voice like the soft rustle of silk, "to ask us for what you need?"

As our hands began to travel upwards towards her molten core, she struggled to stay still, fearful that sudden movement would dissuade us from our purpose. When my hand reached the junction of her thighs, I gently caressed her pouting lips, tracing its corrugated edge with my fingertips. Victor was, of course, more impetuous. He split her cunt open with his finger from her hole to her clit. He retraced that wet path with his thumb and sank it into her waiting depths. She wailed as she was finally impaled on his flesh. Her lips began to surge fucking herself on his thumb. We let her. She wasn't going to cum that way, but she was going to drive herself crazy.

After a while, Victor replaced his thumb with two fingers, placed the flat of his other palm on her mound to still her and began to slowly ... oh, so slowly ...fingerfuck her. Meanwhile, our lips were still working on her soft heaving breasts, which were now slick with our spit and shining in the light. Her head was thrashing from side to side.

As that delicious ravishment continued and showed no signs of ceasing, she finally snapped, desperate now to ease the ache in her body. She tugged weakly at Victor's hair and as he raised his head to look at him, she pleaded, "Fuck me ... please fuck me."

My little baby is learning to talk, I thought.

"I can't, sweetheart," Victor was telling her, "Not unless she lets me," he added, nodding at me.

She turned to me then.

"Kathy ... please," she moaned, "Make him fuck me."

I smiled at her softly as I smoothed the hair back from her sweat slick forehead.

"Let me understand, Amy," I said gently, "You want me to make my husband fuck you?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but then swallowed hard. At that moment, she realized that she couldn't form the words; that she couldn't ask me for my husband. Her eyes fluttered closed and she buried her face in my neck with a groan.

"Oh, God ... Kathy ... I ..."

I placed my hand behind her head to draw her close and rocked her gently to console her.

"Of course I will," I whispered into her hair, "I'm going to make him fuck you out of your sweet little mind. But it's too early for that, isn't it ... too early for him to soak himself in your juices? We haven't even tasted you yet. Would you let us do that, baby? Would you let me taste you?"

"Oh, God ... Yes," she groaned.

"Now?"

"Yes, now ... please."

I suppressed a smile at her eagerness. As I began to crawl down her trembling body, I relinquished her breast, which I was still cupping softly in my palm, to Victor.

"Treat it gently," I admonished.

As Victor's lips closed softly over her nipple, I settled myself between Amy's outspread thighs. Victor reluctantly withdrew his wet fingers from her sopping hole to allow me free access. As a preview of coming attractions, I grabbed Victor's hand and stripped her juices off his fingers with my lips. God, she tasted good. I couldn't wait to wet my lips in the source.

I looked at her for a long moment, committing each fold, each crevice to memory. She looked delectable, a feast fit for the Gods. The stuff of Greek myth and you get to taste her, you lucky bitch, I told myself and grinned. I blew a gentle breath over her cunt, cooling her heated flesh. I chuckled as I heard her moan. As that whisper of air traveled over her folds, she was heaving, trying to smash out of the prison of my hands pinning her thighs, reaching for more contact. When it seemed she would hurt herself, I relented and ran the tip of my tongue along the length of her swollen lips. I slowly traced their outline as I had traced the outline of her other lips which were now mewling in appreciation of what I was doing to her.

I sucked each swollen petal into my mouth, wetting it and then gently drawing it between my teeth before releasing it to snap back against her flesh. After they were slippery with spit, I turned to the hot valley between. I traced its length with the tip of my tongue all the way to her clit.

I resisted the temptation to suck that luscious little polyp, now engorged with blood and peeking out of its fleshy hood, into my mouth. But I traced tiny circles around it, stimulating her nerve endings. My lips roamed the surface of her slick inner folds to gently suck in small sweet mouthfuls. By the time I retraced my path and plunged my tongue into her wet hole, she was moaning continuously. I couldn't get enough of the taste of her, of the pearly liquid that I scooped out of her hole. I must have been thirsty. But, at the same time, I didn't want to be too greedy and make that hot little cunt explode in my mouth. I had other plans for her. I crawled back up her body. As I hovered over her, her nostrils dilated at the scent of her own arousal.

"Your nipples are lovely, sweetheart. But lets give Victor something more, shall we?"

She just groaned in answer. I scooted around to lie on my back and then with Victor's help, flipped her onto my body, her cunt now floating before my eyes. This is what heaven must look like, I thought. She was groggy with a surfeit of pleasure, but she suddenly realized that her face was between my thighs and what lay before her.

I felt her soft hands on my thighs, parting them. I felt her breath on the wet tissues of my cunt, felt her fingers gently part my swollen petals, splaying me completely open. She is looking at me, I thought, Oh, God ... let her find me beautiful. I wanted her so such to taste me, to want me as I wanted her. I willed her on silently, each muscle in my body rigid with anticipation. When I finally felt her lips land in a soft tender kiss on my wet folds, I heaved a sigh of relief and reached for her hips.