Read Online On the Far Side of Darkness by R. C. Graham - Free Book Online
Authors: R. C. Graham
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letting everyone within earshot know how utterly overwhelming her orgasm is. Her legs buckle and she moves her arms to the counter to hold herself in position. Her head jerks back and forth, left and right as muscles trigger in haphazard patterns under the onslaught of her rapture.
That shout fades in a panting groan as Cynthia’s climax recedes. Her tits bobble as her chest works like a bellows. Mrs. Moran’s eyes are slit to shield them against the lurid afterglow filling her. Sweat drips along her pale skin.
Christy keeps at her work. Even over distance and through glass, the faint sound of her mouth at play reaches me. The soft slurping informs me of her greedy appetite for the morsel stuffed in her mouth.
I can see Mrs. Moran’s stomach start to quiver once more. She locks her legs and grasps the blonde head, her knuckles white. Her shoulders heave as she pants. In a very short time, another shriek bursts out. This one is ragged, less forceful. Her lungs are too weak from delight to push hard. Cynthia’s mouth falls open and her eyes glaze as ecstasy fills her.
“Enough,” orders Mandy. Christy immediately pulls her mouth away.
“It’s time for mommy’s little girl’s treat,” announces the domme as she stands. She undoes her jeans and they fall to the floor. Mandy is wearing a harness around her hips and a piece of latex, flesh colored and in the shape of a man’s member, springs out. It’s very large.
Cynthia shudders as she looks at it. I can tell she is no stranger to the dildo and looks forward to having it pushed inside her.
Mandy taunts the older woman. “How does mommy’s little girl want it?”
Emotions cross Mrs. Moran’s face in quick waves. First, shame crimsons her features. Her face hardens next as she tries to gather the strength to deny her dominant. Cynthia’s expression then relaxes in acceptance as she finds she wants what Mandy offers. Finally, lust shows as her eyes sparkle and her body tremors. She pushes away from the counter and on quivering legs crosses to the table. On reaching it, she climbs up and rolls on her back, hips at the edge. Grabbing a stockinged thigh in each hand Mrs. Moran spreads herself wide to her Mistress’s smirking eyes.
“Right here, right now?” mocks Mandy. “What a kinky slut mommy’s little girl is.” The butch places herself between the older woman’s legs and shoves her rubber penis in with a single, quick motion. She reaches up to take her victim’s breasts in her hands, uses them as handles to pull her gasping trull towards her. Mandy’s hips pump vigorously, driving in and out with a hard, steady rhythm.
Cynthia croons a hymn to the wild emotions filling her. Her voice trills, moans and gasps. “Oh God, God!” she sputters. “Fuck me harder! Fuck me good!”
The staccato song ends with another shriek. Mrs. Moran’s fingernails tear her stockings and her hips stutter under the force of her orgasm. Mandy’s motions never cease and neither does her slave’s climax.
“Bitch,” gasps the now sweaty dominant, “get over here and shut this horny slut up.”
Christy has remained kneeling on the floor throughout this tableau. At her Mistress’s orders she stands, mounts the table and straddles Cynthia’s face. The prone woman instantly grabs the yellow tressed girl’s soft buttocks and pulls the lightly thatched vulva to her mouth. She works as hard to please Christy as the blonde girl had pleased her.
It seems Ms. Coburn has been at the edge all along for her eyes roll in their sockets and her lungs sound a guttering growl. Her spending shines on Mrs. Moran’s cheeks.
That’s enough, I decide. I slip away from the minor orgy I’ve been watching and return to the street.
As I head back the way I came I drop my veil and ruminate. It seems my conjecture is correct. Ms. Richardson is a dominant with a fine instinctive skill at seduction. She apparently can spot lesbian submissives, plus bisexuals so minded, and take great
That shout fades in a panting groan as Cynthia’s climax recedes. Her tits bobble as her chest works like a bellows. Mrs. Moran’s eyes are slit to shield them against the lurid afterglow filling her. Sweat drips along her pale skin.
Christy keeps at her work. Even over distance and through glass, the faint sound of her mouth at play reaches me. The soft slurping informs me of her greedy appetite for the morsel stuffed in her mouth.
I can see Mrs. Moran’s stomach start to quiver once more. She locks her legs and grasps the blonde head, her knuckles white. Her shoulders heave as she pants. In a very short time, another shriek bursts out. This one is ragged, less forceful. Her lungs are too weak from delight to push hard. Cynthia’s mouth falls open and her eyes glaze as ecstasy fills her.
“Enough,” orders Mandy. Christy immediately pulls her mouth away.
“It’s time for mommy’s little girl’s treat,” announces the domme as she stands. She undoes her jeans and they fall to the floor. Mandy is wearing a harness around her hips and a piece of latex, flesh colored and in the shape of a man’s member, springs out. It’s very large.
Cynthia shudders as she looks at it. I can tell she is no stranger to the dildo and looks forward to having it pushed inside her.
Mandy taunts the older woman. “How does mommy’s little girl want it?”
Emotions cross Mrs. Moran’s face in quick waves. First, shame crimsons her features. Her face hardens next as she tries to gather the strength to deny her dominant. Cynthia’s expression then relaxes in acceptance as she finds she wants what Mandy offers. Finally, lust shows as her eyes sparkle and her body tremors. She pushes away from the counter and on quivering legs crosses to the table. On reaching it, she climbs up and rolls on her back, hips at the edge. Grabbing a stockinged thigh in each hand Mrs. Moran spreads herself wide to her Mistress’s smirking eyes.
“Right here, right now?” mocks Mandy. “What a kinky slut mommy’s little girl is.” The butch places herself between the older woman’s legs and shoves her rubber penis in with a single, quick motion. She reaches up to take her victim’s breasts in her hands, uses them as handles to pull her gasping trull towards her. Mandy’s hips pump vigorously, driving in and out with a hard, steady rhythm.
Cynthia croons a hymn to the wild emotions filling her. Her voice trills, moans and gasps. “Oh God, God!” she sputters. “Fuck me harder! Fuck me good!”
The staccato song ends with another shriek. Mrs. Moran’s fingernails tear her stockings and her hips stutter under the force of her orgasm. Mandy’s motions never cease and neither does her slave’s climax.
“Bitch,” gasps the now sweaty dominant, “get over here and shut this horny slut up.”
Christy has remained kneeling on the floor throughout this tableau. At her Mistress’s orders she stands, mounts the table and straddles Cynthia’s face. The prone woman instantly grabs the yellow tressed girl’s soft buttocks and pulls the lightly thatched vulva to her mouth. She works as hard to please Christy as the blonde girl had pleased her.
It seems Ms. Coburn has been at the edge all along for her eyes roll in their sockets and her lungs sound a guttering growl. Her spending shines on Mrs. Moran’s cheeks.
That’s enough, I decide. I slip away from the minor orgy I’ve been watching and return to the street.
As I head back the way I came I drop my veil and ruminate. It seems my conjecture is correct. Ms. Richardson is a dominant with a fine instinctive skill at seduction. She apparently can spot lesbian submissives, plus bisexuals so minded, and take great
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