The Murdered World 28

Suddenly, Christina thrust him back, all the way down to the pillow. Frank bounced off it, but held himself back rather than mount another assault. As Christina straddled him—her curvaceous body blocking all but Emma’s sprawling lower body from sight—she brought the bottle of wine up into the air, tipped it sideways, and thrust out her chest to catch the falling wine as it cascaded through the air and onto the heaving fullness. Alabaster skin, pink nipples, and now purple wine.

It adorned her like the queen she appeared, the first splatter lavishly flooding her, blanketing her left breast in shimmering, flowing folds of liquid silk. Rivulets of it ran over her other luscious teat, making colorful inroads onto milky white territory that could never be fully occupied. Christina cooed orgasmically at the chill on her tender, overheated flesh—moving the purple waterfall so that it fell on her right breast too.

Frank felt a hungry sound birthing itself in his chest. Instead of voicing it, he flung himself into Christina, mouth wide to take up as much of her wine-slick tits as he could. Christina let out a delighted giggle as his mouth went into a frenzy, licking and kissing and sucking the countless inches of her bust.

Still she poured; still Frank consumed as much as he could, wine and breast alike. He dragged his tongue over the turgid peak of a yearning nipple, stuffed a mouthful of flesh into his mouth and suctioned away the wine that soaked it, then followed Christina’s lead as she laughingly moved the spill to her other breast.

His hands glided up to her spectacular chest, pushing together the melon-sized teats, lifting them up and planting sucking kisses all over them. The wine spiced her creamy skin, increasing her hunger. Christina could only moan in ecstasy as he tried to sate it. Following every sweeping curve with fast, soft pecks.

Her nipples strained ever harder. Frank let them fill up with unattended lust while he worked over the soft, pale flesh around them, his hands squeezing, his mouth pressuring, the woman cooing and crooning while her pleasure and lust increased in equal measure.

“Please, Frank, please,” Christina whimpered, pouring out the dregs of the wine onto a nipple that felt tight as a rivet, tormenting herself with the insubstantial feel on a sensitive bud that cried out to have all of Frank’s rough love directed at it.

Frank circled the nipple with his tongue, mopping up enough of the chilly wine that all Christina felt was the heat of his mouth—it was like holding her breast up to a furnace. Her eyes crossed as she melted into pure sensation… it’d been so long… and it was so good…

But then his lips were gone, back onto the contours of her breasts. Now that the wine had stopped flowing, he seemed determined to clean her pillowy breasts of anything that tinted them away from their pure, snowy color.

“Your tits are incredible,” Frank said, between licks, between sucks. “I’m going to fuck them after I’m done with your sister.”

“Oh, Frank,” Christina sighed. She felt all heady, too drunk to take offense, too drunk not to be turned on, and his hands were on her breasts and his mouth was around her nipple and everything he was doing was to give her pleasure and it all worked.

Suddenly Frank bit down on her breast, hard enough that she could feel the blood welling between his teeth. Christina let out a sharp cry. Frank let off with the pressure a little, but he held on and pulled back with his teeth, stretching her nipple in a way that made Christina breathe through gritted teeth.

She heard a gagging noise. Looked over her shoulder and saw Emma’s head bent at Frank’s crotch, working itself down to the hair that spooled out from Emma’s scalp to lie tantalizingly on Frank’s pelvis.

Frank shoved his head between Christina’s tits. He could do nothing else. He held himself in their warm succor while his orgasm sped toward him like an express train.

His lips kissed the luscious skin that separated Christina’s breasts, venting some of his desire into it while the end grew closer, closer, and suddenly was there, locking him into a frantic moment of pure release.

Frank totally emptied himself, liquid passion exploding from deep within him. His muscular body arched with the abrupt escape; he was pressed up so close to Christina that it seemed meaningless whether he was in her or Emma. He reached around her, tangling his fingers in Emma’s hair, and felt her head riding his bursting cock like an equestrian until she’d milked all the lust from his clenched balls.

Emma came off his spent manhood and coughed. “So much!” she gurgled in wonderment.

“You bring out the best in me,” Frank rasped.

Frank was still coming down, the high still in him, an emptiness of something that had smoldered and smoked and burnt inside him and now that space was comfortably cool.

But he wanted the heat back.

Christina arched an eyebrow. “Looks like you got the best of both worlds,” she cooed. “My tits and her shutting up.”

“Hey,” Emma wheezed, and cleared her throat as she smacked Christina on the ass. “The wine gone?”

“There—there isn’t anymore,” Christina responded, then gasped out a “Hey!” as Frank laid back, hauling on Christina’s hips so that she went with him.

She had to shuffle forward on her knees to keep from pitching over, half-lifted up Frank’s supine body until she ended up doubled over the bed’s headboard, sitting on Frank’s face.

“Haven’t you had enough?” she asked, feeling his hot breath roll between her legs like an approaching storm, like the funnel forming on a tornado.

Frank didn’t answer. Or his touch was answer enough. He reached callused hands up her body, working at her hips and ass like he’d caressed her tits. His lips tasted her succulent inner thighs, making them twitch sensitively, and his breathing roughened with the smell of her heady arousal. Pouring out of her in waves as she shifted her body and she opened up like a budding flower.

Then his questing tongue was running over the folds of her sex like he was seeking a way inside. It spread her petals, briefly dipping into her, then snaked higher. Up to her clit, still as rigid as it had been when he was feasting on her tits and it took all her restraint not to touch herself

He found the button with ease and licked it sultrily, not too much, not too little, easing Christina into a rapture she couldn’t deny. She whimpered; he made her whimper more. His tongue laved her bud generously, then he pulled at the lips of her pussy with his mouth, keeping her bounding from pleasure to pleasure, nothing yet intense enough to blur into pain.

Soon, Christina found that she couldn’t stop herself any more than she could stop Frank: “Oh yes, oh, that’s magnificent, please, yes, keep going, I want more, oh fuck, Frank, Frank, you’re gonna make me come, gotta… gotta get off… you’re fucking me… with your tongue! Shit, shit, FRANK! I’ll come in your mouth, Frank, Jesus Christ, I’ll come right in that beautiful goddamn mouth!”

She was so close, it was so perfect, her eyes crossed and she didn’t care about anyone or anything but what was going to happen in her wonderful, tongue-filled cunt…

“Stick it in her, Frank,” Emma breathed, not taking her eyes off Frank’s cock. His sleeping phallus had begun to harden while he ate Christina out; it was now stiff enough for Emma to remember how it’d challenged her tonsils. “Yeah, put it in, let her have it, I wanna see that big dick fuck her right!”

Then Frank stopped lapping at Christina’s burgeoning clit and her thrumming womanhood. He simply lay there, and when she rubbed against him, all she felt was the set of his closed mouth—not that incredible tongue.

“No! Don’t stop!” She could almost summon up some of the old pleasure, maybe enough to get her over the precipice, by forcing her cunt against his craggy face. “Please! I’m almost there! Just a little more, you have to, I was so ready—!”

“You want me to give you a reach-around?”

Christina straightened up. Her want still seemed to bulge out of her loins, like if she looked down she might see her clit protruding from her, but the reminder that Emma was there made her embarrassed enough not to give her lust free rein.

“He’s out then?” she asked Emma in the most dignified voice she could manage when her breath was refusing to let her get hold of it.

“We gave him two hundred milligrams of ketamine and most of a bottle of wine,” Emma said. “I’m surprised he wasn’t out before we rounded second.”

With the seriousness of the situation passed, the liquor they’d consumed had its say.

“I still can’t believe you had ketamine in your purse but not weed.”

“Fine, I admit it, I’m a total hipster about these things.” She smiled wryly at Christina. “Maybe we should’ve given him a smaller dose. I doubt he’ll be going down on you again anytime soon.”

Christina colored, but held her chin high. “I was just selling the act. You were the one who stuck his cock in your mouth. Not to mention where you told him to put it with me!”

“I was just playing my part.”

“He could be inside me right now!”

“How horrible,” Emma said snidely. “Well, don’t ask for what you don’t want.”

“I was not asking for it!”

“Uh-huh. He just happened to decide to motorboat you and remind you ya have a clit…”

“It’s not my fault I have big boobs!” Christina protested. “I hate how men obsess over them!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You sure looked like you were praying for the sweet release of death…”

“Enough already. The man’s an ox; there’s no telling how long he’ll be out. Did you get the wheelchair?”

“I thought you got it.”

“I told you to go to the medical ward and find a stretcher or a gurney or…”

“I’ll go now,” Emma assuaged her, rolling out of the bed. “Even though I did all the work just now.”

“Go!” Christina barked at her. “If he wakes up, I’m telling him it was your idea.”

Emma sent a grim smile her sister’s way. “If he wakes up, the only thing you’ll be telling him is that it’s time to finish eating your pussy.”