The Red(29)

Mona beamed with pride, his organ still in her mouth. Her satyr was surrounded by his nymphs. Baby Blue was behind him, placing the laurel crown atop his head again. He turned to Pinky on his right and kissed her lips before turning to the left to lick Sunshine's breast. They all took turns kissing him and he took his turns sucking and licking their necks and breasts, poking his fingers into their wet little cunts, and groping their thighs and their bottoms without apology. 

"You make me wish I had four pricks," he said to his nymphs. "I'd take you all at once, my beauties."

"Or we could find three more satyrs," Sunshine said.

"I like my idea better," Malcolm said.

Mona had to stop sucking him simply to laugh. She stroked his prick, catching her breath. After taking the three girls he should have been wilted as a rose in the desert, but under in her hands he was a rod of iron wrapped in warm flesh. She couldn't stop touching him, wouldn't stop even if the world had ended. His scent drew her in-his scent and his power.

He tickled under her chin like a master to his cat. She smiled and set to licking the tip again.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, not pushing her away but massaging her, caressing her. He lifted his hips off his throne to thrust deeper. Mona gripped his thighs hard, holding onto him as he pumped into her mouth, addicted now to the organ down her throat. She had to have it, had to taste it, had to suck it. She was sealed to it and it was lodged in her. The satyr Malcolm groaned in his animal lust, stamping his bare foot on the ground as if the pleasure was maddening. The sound it made was hard and hollow as a hoof on the floor.

His nymphs caressed him, their hands and lips dancing over his skin. Mona heard their whispers: "You can do it, Sir Satyr. You can take it." And Malcolm saying, "No … no … it's too much. She'll kill me with that mouth of hers. She'll suck it right off."

"We'll put it back if she does," one of the girls said. "Who brought the glue?"

And they all laughed except for Mona, who couldn't stop sucking Malcolm off if she wanted to-good thing, then, that she didn't want to stop.

Mona gripped the base of the shaft with one hand and took his heavy testicles in her other. Malcolm growled like a wild beast and stamped his foot again. He writhed under her mouth, moving against his will. Oh, it was dirty, dirty bliss and Mona loved it as much as he did. Her pussy throbbed as if her heart was between her legs, beating and pounding and pumping. She felt Malcolm's hands on her naked back. He clutched at her shoulder blades. She glanced up and saw his head fall back in ecstasy and knew he was there. She sucked as hard as she could, hard enough to make him believe she really would suck it right off. Malcolm roared like an animal again and his body went stiff as a board under her, his hips hovering in the air a few inches off his throne.

Then he came. It was such a surge of hot fluid in her throat, Mona could barely swallow it all. It surged and surged and she swallowed and swallowed. She thought it would never end. It tasted salty as the ocean, but it refreshed her like water from a fountain. When the spurts finally ceased, Malcolm rested on his throne, his head back and his eyes closed and his arms dangling down as the nymphs kissed his fingers. She didn't want to release her hold on his cock. It had all been so delicious.

She looked at him and he blinked and opened his eyes.

He smiled.

"See?" Sunshine said. "It didn't break off."

"That's good," Pinky said. "I forgot the glue anyway."

"Kiss me," he said to Mona, his voice a whisper meant for everyone to hear. Reluctantly, Mona let him slip from her mouth. She rose to her feet and gave him the kiss he had commanded of her.

Their tongues mingled and mated. He took her by the waist and held her in place so that she couldn't escape his mouth on her mouth and the tongue that lapped at her lips and delved into her throat. He seemed to be tasting him inside of her. His majesty's royal scepter was as hard as ever-she felt the bulb of the tip pushing into her belly and she craved it inside her. As they kissed, the nymphs resumed their dancing, hand in hand in hand, weaving around the little trees in a race that seemed to have no end, no beginning, no winner, no loser. Malcolm rose off his throne slowly, not breaking the kiss once. He wound her arms around his neck, lifted her off her feet and brought her down onto his cock. He ran her through with it and she cried in relief as it filled her up to the breaking point.




 

 

She was a rag doll, light and limp. He lifted her again, brought her down, slid her up and down the full length of him. His hips bucked into her and she could do nothing but hang helplessly in his herculean grasp as he fucked her. He locked his wrists around her waist, forcing her to bend her back so he could ravage her breasts with his tongue and lips. He suckled and licked her. Mona moaned, earning the name he'd given her. She moaned and whimpered as his mouth clamped onto her breast like he never intended to let it go. All the while he worked inside her aching orifice. The ache grew and grew as he rammed her and pounded her. He was the predator and she his prey and he devoured her like he had not fed in weeks. Her vagina closed on his penis, trapping it inside her with its wild clenching contractions. They were in a battle with each other, both intent on conquest. But when his semen shot into her, showering her insides, she surrendered to him entirely.