Palpitations accelerated beneath my sternum. Feral curiosity tingled a path up my erection.
It was one thing to hear Poet, Eliot, and Briar’s ladies exploit this subject. It was another to be a participant.
Only Aspen proved I’d been missing out. I waited for instruction, and fuck if she didn’t voice it.
“Rip them,” she commanded.
Holding her gaze, I reached under the skirt. My fingers stroked the slitted delineation of her drawers.
A muted whimper curled from her throat as I toyed with the dainty trim. With my cock throbbing and my vocal cords depleted, it was all I could do not to yank on the slick garment. Instead, a long, slow tear peeled through the arbor, from where I scissored open the rift in her drawers.
Damp heat brimmed from her pussy, the temperature gusting over my fingers. But before I could tow one hand over that intimate crease, Aspen made another request.
“Hand me a sword,” she whispered.
Curious anticipation quivered through my stomach. Reaching behind, I withdrew one of my twin blades and relinquished the grip. Next, I read her performative gaze and stepped back to get a vaster perspective.
The next thing I knew, she grasped the hilt and angled the pommel against her cunt.
Oh. Fuck.
Lust bloated my phallus as Aspen tipped the sword’s pommel and slipped it between the flanks of her thighs. Her pussy spread, cinching around the weapon, slipping inside to the grip.
The sight cracked open a chasm in my tidy world. Riveted, I watched Aspen fuck herself with my sword. Pistoning the weapon in and out, the spread of her cunt drenched the steel, and low moans peeled from her tongue.
Saints of nature preserve me. She fisted the grip and jerked her arm back and forth, every punctuated snap of the blade jolting her into motion.
My voice dipped to an uncivil register. “Open wider for me.”
Nodding, Aspen fanned her thighs farther, granting me the liberty of an unhampered view, my weapon inundating her cunt.
As she rode the pommel and advanced to the grip, I unbuckled the front of my leather pants. “Wider, still.”
She cranked her hand faster, the velocity splaying her limbs, grunts sprinting from her lips. Her eyes landed on my bare cock rising from the panels, her pupils flashing as the engorged head darkened.
Stepping between Aspen’s legs, I slung my arm around her waist and aligned my erection flush with her swollen clitoris.Rolling my backside, I moved in tandem with the sword, the ledge of my cock rubbing the kernel of flesh at her center.
Aspen gave a shout. “Oh!”
“How’s this?” I growled, towing my length up and down over her ruched flesh.
Her only response was a hoarse inflection, which she muffled by sinking her teeth into my shoulder. I hissed, inviting the pleasure-pain. All the while, my cock and sword fucked her until she came against us both.
***
Dirty talk came next. Another novelty, coupled with anal sex. While I hunched Aspen over one of the bridges at midnight, a slew of naughty words passed between us.
“Bend me deeper.”
“Take my cock longer.”
Seasons. My balls warmed, the titillation fueling me to slide her thighs farther and piston deeper.
She bobbed toward the vista, her anus undulating around my length. Although Aspen had experience with this position, I’d never partaken before. Autumn nobility rarely experimented as Summer or Winter did. To say nothing of Sinful Spring.
Aspen turned what I once overlooked into the most exquisite form of torment. Groaning, I reeled my waist, the shallow bob of my cock shoving cries off her lips. The balm she’d stolen from Lyrik’s chamber coaxed Aspen’s opening to accommodate me, the tight grasp of her buttocks sending my eyes to the back of my head.
Indeed. We taught each other well.
