Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) (7 page)

Oh God, this was bliss, exaltation.

Her head thrashed from side to side, and she
opened and closed her hands, grabbing at the air, her wrists still
trapped in Sean’s firm hold. His fingers sunk into her breast and
she arched her back, seeking more of this special torture.

Her hips, too, she tried to lift, but the way
Geoff held her legs made that nearly impossible. So she lay there
and greedily took what he gave her. The way he pulled out from her.
Then lunging inside with one more mighty shove.

To claim her.

To hear her cries.

He grunted as he worked, his breath a
ratcheting sound, a working sound, a thing of power driving the
force. All the way out. All the way in ... out again ... in
again.

She couldn’t stand it. It would drive her
mad. And yet, she’d take more, if that’s what he chose.

The pressure in her pussy built higher and
higher. She would come again, and soon, as impossible as that
seemed. Hadn’t she just come in the other room? More than once? A
thin sound, a high-pitched cry escaped her, trilling out warning of
imminent explosion.

“No,” Geoff said with more command than she
had heard from him. “Do not come, Jasmine. Listen to me. Do not
come.”

That seemed a ridiculous thing to say. As if
she had any control over it. Not tonight she didn’t. Tonight was
special. Tonight she could come and come and then do it again.
Magical night.

Do not come, he said. Surely he was
joking.

Geoff stopped pumping into her. “Tell me you
won’t come. Not yet. Hold it off.”

“Why? I don’t want to.”

“You’ll thank me for it later. Wait a while.
Push it down and let it build. You can do that, can’t you?”

She considered his question in a loopy,
sexed-up way. “I don’t know,” was the only answer she could
give.

“Try,” Geoff said.

She would try, yes, if he thought it was that
important, and he certainly appeared to think it was. And he
compelled her, regardless. After the timely distraction of his
request, she thought she might be able to hold off a while
longer.

He resumed fucking her, but now settled into
a deep, slow stroke. She moaned. So sweet, the feel of him sliding
inside her, the stretch of flesh, the pull of exit, the push of
entry.

Sean. Mmm. Sweet Sean. He leaned over her
now, his hand a torment on her aching breasts and swollen nipples,
making her squirm and mumble. His breath fell on her neck, her ear,
as he nuzzled her, his tongue a damp, ticklish delight on her
sensitive skin.

Then he was kissing her, their mouths open to
one another, their tongues tangling. He took her moans into
himself, and her sighs, and her cries.

And when he wasn’t kissing her, he whispered
to her, things like, “I want you so bad, Jasmine. Your skin is so
soft. I could touch you all night long.”

So she wriggled and shuddered for him, his
fingers pressing like iron clamps into her stretched nipples. He
captured her gasps with, “Mmm, I love that sound. Here. Do it
again.” And he’d pinch again, make her whimper. Sweet Sean. Sweet
ache.

Geoff wrapped her legs around his waist and
settled into fucking her in earnest. He held her by the hips,
lifting her up, his fingers sunk into her flesh. Unhh. Unhh. Unhh.
The impact of him fucking her. The sound of him.

“I’m next,” Sean whispered in her ear,
sending a tendril of heat to her core.

Geoff rode her faster and faster. His breath
beat the tempo of his strokes, of Sean’s pinches, of her gasps.

Unhh! Unhh! Unhh! And he was coming, and she
fought back her need to join him.

“Don’t come,” Sean whispered. “Don’t come.
Wait for it, Jasmine.”

Geoff surged home with one last, mighty
lunge, rattling her teeth with the impact.

“Oh, God,” Geoff groaned, then he collapsed,
stretched out beside her. His chest rapidly rising and falling as
he strived to catch his breath.

Sean gave her a last quick kiss then moved
around the bed, filling the vacancy between her legs. He reached
for a condom on the nightstand.

Geoff turned on his side toward her, took her
hand, held it in his own large one, and raised it to his lips. He
kissed her fingers, and her palm, then held it to his chest. He
stared down at her, his eyes lazy and replete, loving.

He gave a small smile, shook his head
minutely, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. And she’d never
felt more right, this man holding her hand and her gaze, still
panting from fucking her half senseless.

And there was Sean, already his cock moved in
her slit, gathering her moisture, seeking entry. Then he slid
inside her, a smooth, slow sheathing that made her sigh in delight.
Geoff kissed her then, and she opened for him, the way she opened
for Sean.

She closed her eyes, savored every sensation.
Sean told her she was beautiful. Geoff kissed her sensually, firm
and soft. She felt hands on her breasts again. Sean’s perhaps.
Geoff’s? Someone else’s? It didn’t matter. One of them. All of
them. This was unending bliss. No other ravishment could be as
luscious as this.

Then Sean was turning her onto her side,
facing away from Geoff, raising her upper leg high in the air. His
cock entered her from this new angle and made her gasp. Geoff’s
hand pressed her stomach, he nibbled the back of her neck.

She opened her eyes and saw it was Kyle who
had been squeezing her breasts. He muttered “Fuck,” every now and
then, a single-syllable testament to his appetite.

Sean fucked her faster, and again she wanted
to come. Again, Sean urged her to hold off, as did Geoff, his
breath falling warm and moist on her neck. It seemed an impossible
task. How was she to survive this onslaught without release?

Faster Sean drilled into her, his hips
pistoning, his balls slapping noisily against her. “Fuck,” said
Kyle. “Yes!” said Sean. “Wait,” warned Geoff.

One. Two. Three. Four. Deliberate, extreme
pumps.

And then Sean came, his cry filling the room,
joining her own cries as she trembled under the effort of clamping
down her orgasm. She panted and squirmed, arched her back further
than she would have thought possible. Her hands shook.

“So beautiful,” Geoff said. “Wonderful. You
did it.”

And she had, miracle of miracles. But
already, Kyle was moving into Sean’s place, and already she felt
the minor tamping-down she had accomplished losing its ability to
ward off surrender.

She almost moaned in disappointment when
Geoff rolled away from her and off the bed, but she didn’t have
time to mourn him because Kyle had a rubber in place and was ready
to go. He turned her over onto her stomach.

“I want to see you on your hands and knees,”
he said. “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”

She quickly took the position he demanded. He
wasted no time and using his hands, took hold of her puffy labia
and spread her apart, taking in the sight of her open, pink
wetness. “Fuck.”

And then he was inside her, fucking her doggy
style, and her head hung down, low, as she struggled for balance on
the soft mattress. He squeezed her ass, roamed over her hips, found
her hanging breasts and held them for purchase in his thrusts.

Then her head was lifted and she looked up
into Michael’s bright eyes. He, too, was naked now, and from the
looks of things, was prepared for a second go around.

He sat in front of her, on his heels, scooted
under her head, then lowered her down to his cock which stood up
proudly, demanding her service.

She obliged. He watched her lips close over
his dick, the spread of her mouth, the concavity in her cheeks as
she sucked him. He held his cock out for her.

Kyle took long, heady strokes in and out of
her pussy, enjoying every slow glide. Michael groaned as she
flicked her tongue gently across the tip of his dick.

She got an image in her head of how she must
look. Wanton. Exposed in every way. Quivering, desperate for what
these men gave her, what they took from her. Her moans and cries
were now so frequent that there was no reason to take note of them
at all.

She was someone different, someone who had
given herself over to this new thing, this new way of being,
experiencing. And if she looked like a brazen tramp, the naked sex
toy of these five men, loving their every touch, their every
invasion, then so be it. It’s what she was. In that moment.

Soon, Kyle bucked fast and hard against her.
He would come any time.

She had gotten the trick of holding back her
orgasm now, and learned the reason why Geoff had asked it of her.
She had entered a zone of non-stop buzz, a marvel of constant
thrill. It was as if every nerve in her body had formed a choir and
was singing a never-ending, tantalizing song of rapture.

To say it felt good was an absurd
understatement. And yet it did. Everything felt good. All the time.
Every touch, every thrust, every pinch or twist. All good. All the
time.

It ran together. When Kyle finished coming
with a loud bark of, “Fuck! Fuck!” she understood that Michael
would be taking over where Kyle left off, and that was more than
fine with her.

Michael held her by the hips and impaled her
with his rubber-cloaked cock, and she took him inside, readily,
even greedily. Unhh. Unhh. Unhh. The sounds again of fucking.

Sir arrived, settling in front of her,
pushing back her hair and quietly studying her face.

“Are you still with us?” he asked.

She had no idea what he meant. Of course she
was. Where else would she be? “Obviously.”

He grinned that Sir-grin of his, the elusive
one that probably meant one thing but might have meant another. She
realized that he, like the others, was fully naked. Now everyone
was naked.

Sir had an excellent physique, particularly
for an older man, his trimmed body hair still dark, ungrayed, his
pecs defined and firm. He held out his cock to her, and she licked
up and down his shaft. He sighed, petted her, reached under her
chest and cupped her breast.

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, that
Geoff had taken over Sir’s chair, and Sean was sprawled in another.
They watched her get fucked, their eyes hooded, half-lidded. Would
they want her again? She wondered. How much stamina could these men
have? How much did she have?

Sir pulled her head back. He had her stick
out her tongue and lightly swatted her face, cheeks and tongue with
his cock. She might have been put off by this show of dominance,
were it not for the way he looked at her while he did it.

He looked paternal, protective and proud,
perhaps. Turned on — yes. In control — always. And he enjoyed what
he was doing with an honest thoroughness that Jasmine couldn’t
deny, must share.

He held her head in one place, but she made a
game of chasing the head of his cock with her tongue. Left. Right.
His cock batted at her cheek. It passed by her mouth, she licked
out at it, a tender swipe.

Sir made a low rumbling sound. He moved his
cock in front of her tongue, just out of reach. She stretched for
him, barely made contact. He pulled farther back. She
half-smiled.

Then the game began in earnest, her seeking,
him teasing. His cock sometimes stopped to let her bathe the tip,
then moved away to rap her jaw, her cheekbone.

Soon she was panting, and pulling against his
hold on her, trying to reach that shifty cock. She didn’t care that
her struggles yanked her hair. She wanted that cock.

Sir played the game well. As did she.
Somewhere nearby she heard a low groan and knew Kyle was watching
them play. Likely the only one not watching was Michael, who by
virtue of fucking her like a crazed beast, was in no position to
see what she and Sir were doing. Her entire body shook under
Michael’s jarring thrusts.

Sir’s grin turned wicked when Michael came.
Sir’s turn. To fuck her.

Michael fell away from her, gasping and
leaving her pussy twitching and pulsing. It was a close call,
holding off the inevitable release. Michael’s pumping and Sir’s
game made it as difficult as ever.

Sir let go of her and moved to the head of
the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard, sheathed up
his cock then crooked a finger at her.

“I think I’ll let you do the work, Miss
Jasmine,” he said.

It was obvious what he wanted, so she crawled
over to him, then straddled his hips and centered herself over his
cock which pointed straight into the air. She held onto his
powerful shoulders to steady herself.

He positioned his cock at her entrance as she
lowered herself, sliding the tip around to gather some of her
ever-ample supply of moisture.

Mmm. She slowly, carefully, impaled herself
on his rod. Ohh, she groaned at this entry, so deep and filling in
this position. The angle of him hit her g-spot, and the head of his
dick mashed against the limits of her depths.

He ran his hands up her firm thighs and over
her rounded hips. He squeezed her waist and stared at her breasts,
so round and close. She leaned forward and bent down to kiss him.
He tasted of bourbon and the faintest hint of mint. His tongue
roamed inside her mouth, a new teasing game with her own
tongue.

She moved slowly and deliberately over him,
taking her time, taking care, taking him all. His hands kneaded her
breasts, twisted her nipples. They kissed a while longer until she
pulled away, looking down to watch him play with her breasts.

“You have beautiful tits,” he said.

He pulled at her nipples the way he’d done
earlier. She loved when he did that, liked seeing the flesh stretch
outward, changing her shape as he pulled harder and harder. Small
stabbing spikes shot from her nipples all the way down to her clit.
She loved the bounce of her flesh when he let go, the springy way
her breasts rounded up again, the hard pebble that her nipple had
became under his relentless tugs.