Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Christine’s calves hang over the edge of the mattress, straddling the sides of Danny’s head, and all else I can see of her are her breasts heaving upward as Danny presses his mouth into her and her back arches. Their bodies’ angles create a form of erotic geometry that rivals the abstract beauty of a Mondrian. Art in motion.
The fact that I can’t see Danny’s face means I can’t know for certain what type of artistic technique he’s applying to Christine’s pussy. Is he just painting her clit with the brush of his tongue? Or is he delving further? Inserting himself inside her walls and tasting her salty sweetness?
All I can know for certain is what Christine’s moans are telling me. And that is that whatever he’s doing, she’s enjoying it. Quite a lot. The sounds she’s making are exigent and she grabs a fistful of his tousled blond hair and pulls his face into her more fully, causing him to moan as well as he slurps and laps and drinks in every bit of her.
And, as if being conducted by the two of them, I begin moaning as well, grunting and sighing out labored breaths with every jerk of my hand. I don’t want to come until they do, but that may actually be a taller order than I anticipated. There’s something about being so close to them but not allowing myself to touch them that’s more sensual than I had imagined.
But I don’t want to ejaculate all over what I’m certain is an irreplaceable Oriental rug, so I’ll need to be thoughtful of that. I may be a creature of impulse, but I’m not some sort of unrefined monster.
Christine lets out a long, guttural cry and her hands tighten in Danny’s hair. Her dangling legs begin shaking and the muscles in her forearms constrict. It’s something to see. Beauty incarnate. In the entire time I’ve known her, I’ve never been witness to Christine having an orgasm that quickly before. It makes me smile.
Danny turns his head, sees me smiling, and a shadow comes over his eyes. I’ve seen this before from him, of course. The dark Danny Fortnight. The powerful Danny Fortnight. The controlling Danny Fortnight. He’s been kind lately. Ever since the two of them came to retrieve me in England. We all have.
I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t to do with Andra. The child. My child. Pure, innocent, untouched by the trauma of the world. That her presence has compelled us all to adjust our own traumas just the tiniest bit.
I hope that when we find her, she’s as free from damage as when we last saw her.
But here, now, in the absence of everything we left behind in the UK, on our way to our next, great, unspecified adventure, I wonder if the darkness Danny works to keep at bay isn’t just a little tired of remaining inside. I hope so. It is a part of him that I treasure just as much as the other, more humane parts.
As if reading my thoughts, my hope to see dark Danny emerge fully is granted as he grabs the hips of a still-trembling Christine, lifts her from the bed, and swoops her in front of him, facing me, as she makes a little squeak of surprise. They are both looking at me now. Him standing behind her, staring just over her head, and Christine herself uncharacteristically coquettish, knees rubbing together as she continues to tremble in place, still working through the effects of having received Danny’s pleasure.
She glances back at him and the dark mist in his eyes darkens further as he glowers at her and then back at me. She turns her head to face me as well, and as if Danny’s inner monster has transmuted Christine, a kind of nightshade also broadcasts itself from inside her.
She bites her bottom lip as Danny grabs a knot of her hair with one hand and forces her forward at the waist with the other. She snaps over, backing her ass up as she does, and Danny enters her hard from behind, causing her to grunt out in pain and ecstasy.
They are both staring at me, Danny holding her hair like he’s gripping the mane of a sleek and majestic filly and Christine, head pulled back, throat exposed, being slammed into from the rear, smiling an almost evil grin of glee the whole time.
I’m thundering my shaft with my fist now, frantic and chaotic. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep from painting the interior of this pristine cabin with my hot, creamy essence. I don’t want to wait, I want to let it out now, but something in Danny’s stare warns me not to. So I hold. Against my will, I hold.
And now they are moving ahead, toward me. Shuffling forward in unison. Like they are one organism. Bound together by something inexorable and unbreakable. Danny doesn’t stop his pounding, thrusting fucking of Christine and neither one of them takes their eyes off me.