Mia took Syria’s hand and laid it on her breast, and Syria tweaked the nipple. Mia’s hips lurched upward. Syria kneeled between her legs and used her other hand to stroke the marks on her belly, soothing the pain away. The stage emptied as she worked over Mia and now they were the focus of the room, although she could see the gentle gyrations of the lithe girls on laps, large dark hands clasping pale bodies.
Syria shut all that out and focused on Mia, who sat up and untied Syria’s halter. The gossamer fabric fluttered away. Syria lay fully on Mia now, back to the familiar, her friend and lover. She kissed the red marks, and her tongue could feel the groove of the indentions. “My Mia,” she whispered on her skin.
But Mia was impatient and thrust against her. Syria moved downward, tongue reaching her folds, hot and slick. And Mia bucked upward instantly, crying out, and the music came down to a soft undertone so the room could hear her.
The attention was intoxicating and Syria plunged in, flicking her tongue on Mia’s clit, her hands bracing Mia’s body to keep her in place. Mia required little contact at all and rose almost instantly into an orgasm, the muscles tightening and clenching. She hadn’t even subsided completely when Mia lurched forward, switching their positions, mouth hot on Syria’s nipple.
Mia’s arms were weak and began to tremble as she tried to work. The man who had used the candles approached and slid a soft length of silk along her rib cage and her hips, quickly tying a simple cradling suspension that took her weight off, looping it through the dangling hook above.
Mia relaxed and now swung freely over Syria, nipping at her skin, and tugging on the skirt.
Am I really doing this? Syria lost her concentration on the moment and realized where she was, lying on a stage, her clothes coming off. Two girls arrived and helped Mia remove Syria’s boots, and the skirt. Mia pulled down the panties and plunged fingers inside. Her knees still touched the floor, only her upper body suspended, and she scooted backward. The man lowered her silks enough that her lips could encircle Syria’s belly button and now they were lost again, forgetting the audience, only the rhythm of the fingers and mouths, the bodies that fit together with familiarity.
Mia seemed to be recovering and worked downward, her mouth fitting over Syria’s mound, sucking lightly on the clit. Syria’s cry seemed to wake the audience and the man with the candle, who had hovered closely, began to run his hands along Mia’s back. He whispered something in her ear and Mia lifted her head and nodded. Even as Mia returned to Syria, the man moved behind her, stroking Mia’s hips and bending over her back.
God, he was joining in. Syria reached over her head for something to hold on to and was immediately given a spreader bar. Madam quickly tied her wrists to it and the effect was intoxicating, the helplessness adding to both her fear and her excitement. Mia worked her carefully, both fingers and mouth. Syria saw the other man over Mia’s shoulder, hands on her back, and he must have entered her because Mia cried out against Syria’s skin. The three of them rocked together and the music rose again, filling the space with a ghostly melody.
Smoke from the men’s cigarettes formed small spirals. The lithe girls moved from one man to another, kissing, sucking, kneeling, bending over to be entered. Syria was consumed with the vision of the men and the girls, Mia between her legs, the heat wafting from the whirring machines, and Madam looking down, no longer disapproving, but content, her eyes alight on the scene.
The man behind Mia shuddered, clutching at her waist. Another one approached and Mia nodded again. The risk, the craziness. How could she do it?
Mia sensed her distraction and worked harder, plumbing all her knowledge to hit Syria’s sensitive spots, and now the cascades came over her, pleasure and light, the world blurring. She tightened into the orgasm, her voice louder than the flutes and the eerie strings, so much more outwardly passionate than the silent men and their slender waifs.
The sparks showered into light and came down. Syria settled onto the floor, feeling each grain of the hardwood planks. Mia ran her hands up and down her belly, smoothing her skin, rocking with the push of the new man behind her.
A third man approached, kneeling by Syria, and she felt panicked. She wouldn’t! Couldn’t! Mia was one thing, but there was Tyson!
The man unzipped his pants, leaning near Syria’s face. With Mia on her and the spreader bar immobilizing her hands, she was helpless. A small cry escaped and Mia must have felt it as she looked up and reached for the man, bringing him closer to her until his stiffening cock was close enough, and Mia drew him into her mouth.
Syria laid her head back, relieved, but what if others came after her? The second man behind Mia finished and stepped away. Mia pulled away from the man’s cock and looked behind her. He moved around to finish the job inside her.