Sex Retreat(50)

Brock sneered. “Look at me, sub.”

Shivers of excitement tickled her muscles. She rose to Brock’s tip, slipped her tongue around the engorged head, and drew him inside her mouth again.

“Mitch, hand me that,” Brock said, irritation in his voice.

Trixie’s eyelashes fluttered as she tried to keep her tears at bay. The ginger stung. The angle in which she stretched to accept Brock’s cock was uncomfortable, but she’d placed herself in this situation. She had no one to blame, or thank, except herself.

Brock remained in front of her. Mitch inched closer, passing off a toy to Brock. Rory stood nearby, curiously observing.

Brock flashed the dildo in front of her face. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

He then took a step back. Gripping his cock with one hand, he held the large dildo with the other. He hit a switch and a pulsating pattern began. The vibrator danced and jerked, swirled around again then jiggled some more.

Trixie blinked. “Dear God. It’s shaped like a bullet. And hops like a rabbit.”

Brock chuckled. Flipped the switch to the off-setting and handed off the toy to Rory.

“Join us, Rory,” she pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t remain an outsider but realizing she might have to accept that Domination and submission perhaps would never appeal to him.

A hard line of determination set his lips, and for a second, Trixie thought he would deny her. Instead, to her surprise, he said, “Give Brock head, sub. I want to watch.”

His guttural demand made her shiver. Her pussy wept. Her nipples ached.

He tossed the dildo to Mitch, and Trixie lowered her mouth again. She tightened her lips around Brock’s cockhead and pulled him inside her mouth as her heart swelled with gladness. Rory had reached a decision. He’d come to terms with her needs.

She hummed, vibrating against the thick wedge of flesh thrumming against her tongue. Her bottom tingled. No, it was on fire. The soft tissues inside her ass burned to a degree of heat she’d never experienced.

Wrapping her tongue around the head of Brock’s penis, she kissed the tip and pulled away, ready to admit defeat. “I can’t take the ginger anymore. It’s too hot.”

Mitch wedged his hand between the counter and her belly. He wiggled his fingers down her midsection and reached for her pussy. Using his middle finger, he tapped her clit and she moaned before giving Brock head again. This time, she was committed to a cause as she watched him in appreciation and willed him to come.

Perhaps her commitment to finish him was all the motivation he needed.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Brock flattened his palms against her ears, guiding her up and down. Mashing his balls against her chin, he looked into those beautiful misty blue eyes, seeing her determination, realizing she was set on watching the pleasure she brought him as he approached the finale.

He clenched his ass and ground against her throat, fucking her face as if he’d never had the glorious opportunity before. She suckled and teased him, but when she tightened those lips around his shaft, he was finished.

Grabbing her by the hair of the head, he watched her lips part and surged between them again, tapping her tonsils, stroking for tremendous satisfaction.

“Oh fuck,” he rasped, swallowing again and again as his mouth dried and hers filled with his cum.

She sucked him dry and licked him clean, nuzzling him as she doused her lips in his release, humming against him until he’d given her all he had to give.

Trixie rose to her elbows. He backed away from the counter, leaving her with a simple kiss on her forehead before going to the bathroom to clean himself.

When Brock returned, he was in for quite a surprise.

At the far end of the room, behind a door they’d never exposed to Trixie before, Mitch had unveiled the dark chamber, the room they’d used many moons ago, a room they’d never shown to Trixie when she’d worked at the camp.

There were secrets there, erotic tales, and some of the darkest of events had taken place there under Mitch’s careful supervision.

“I didn’t agree to this,” Brock said, searching Trixie’s eyes for any sign of objection.

“She did,” Rory told him, acting as if he had no qualms about participating.

“Mitch, I think we need to talk about this.”

“We can,” he said, leading Trixie to the center of the room. “Let me get Trixie situated first.”

“You heard the man,” Rory said, a spark of curiosity in his expression.

“Are you okay, sub?” Mitch asked, placing her in the area once dubbed the circle of desire.

“I’m fine, Dom,” she replied, looking up at the metal bar attached to a chain-link rope.

Mitch pulled the bar down from the ceiling. “Drape your arms over the middle.”