Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) (8 page)

And so she fucked him for a while, and he
inflicted his special brand of torment on her until her body
trembled and a light sweat broke out on her forehead.

Sir was breathing hard, too, and urging her
to go faster, harder. She must not have gone fast enough, because
soon he stopped tormenting her breasts and closed his hands around
her hips, raising her and pushing her back down on his lap.

He leaned forward and sucked her nipple into
his mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders and her thigh muscles
flexed, her hips bucked and her desire was a raging fire inside
her. When his teeth closed over her nipple, she cried out, a sound
of pain and passion and want. More. More.

She felt another pair of hands close around
her waist. She turned her head. Geoff. Behind her, straddling Sir’s
legs. His smoky gaze met her own and his fingers ground into her
flesh, helping Sir lift her up, then slam her down with more force
than before.

Sir grunted and released her breast, unable
to hold on with her increased movement. Geoff momentarily let go of
her waist to guide Jasmine’s hands off Sir’s shoulders. He raised
her arms up over her head, bent them back, closing her hands behind
his own head.

She stretched back, her body bent in a
parabola curve, her breasts thrusting outward and bouncing wildly
until Geoff closed his hands over them. And now he used her breasts
to lift her up and slam her down onto Sir. Over and over. It hurt.
It didn’t.

Her breasts ached from the pressure, but no
more than her pussy ached from holding back, from the pounding
she’d been getting for she didn’t know how long. God it was too
much.

“Not yet,” Geoff demanded in her ear.

She shivered when his hot breath fell on her.
Goosebumps rose on her arms.

They lifted her up, slammed her down. Kyle
and Sean were stretched out on the bed, not far away, idly stroking
their half-masted cocks and watching the fucking with gleaming
eyes.

She felt something on her ass, slick fingers
pushing between her cheeks, heading ... where ... not there. Yes
there.

She realized with a start that it was Geoff’s
fingers down there, that only one of his arms was wrapped around
her chest, that only one hand was tightened over her breast,
raising her up and shoving her back down onto Sir.

She made a murmur and a wriggle of dissent.
Geoff quietly shushed her.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice soft and
reassuring.

His fingers pushed against her sphincter. He
pressed one inside her asshole, then followed it quickly with
another.

She cried aloud at the entry, the unfamiliar
feel and stretch of two fingers inside her. Two was different than
one. Very different. Not terrifically painful so much as
disturbing. They didn’t belong there, did they?

Geoff whispered to her that she felt good and
that she was so tight and perfect. And Sir held her gaze in his
own, a promise in his eyes that all would be well.

She believed them both, gave herself over to
them, gave herself over to the promise they offered but didn’t have
to make.

Up. Down. The slip and slide. The slam of
flesh on flesh. The grinding of fingers in her ass, the crush and
oomph.

This was a complete fuck like she’d never had
before. And she clung to Geoff and didn’t mind her shaking breasts
and writhing hips. And let Geoff finger her ass.

She began a steady moan, a feral groan that
signaled the pressure growing inside her, the unstoppable nature of
it. Her body tingled from top to bottom and a ball of energy formed
in her belly and threatened to burst forth at any moment.

On and on she cried her song of ecstasy, a
melody punctuated by Kyle’s “Fucks” and Sir’s grunts and Geoff’s
harsh breath in her ear. This song, this beautiful song of passion
and wonder.

Geoff pumped in and out of her ass, faster
now, harder, as far as he could go every time. “Now,” he said
quietly. “Now you can let it go. Come for us, Jasmine. I want to
hear you scream.”

“Come for us,” repeated Sir.

She threw back her head, surrendered to
whatever they wanted, what she wanted, to all the sensations that
she’d been holding in check. Her blood roared in her veins and her
heart beat a frenzied staccato in time with her hoarse, heaving
breaths.

Yes, she was coming. Here it came. The
climax. The throbbing down low, the ball of energy surging outward,
breaking over her belly and between her legs. Profound in its
totality, the way it rushed and swelled outward, filling her torso,
her limbs, all of her, with rapture.

She was transported to a realm of euphoria,
where everything was pure. Right. So intense. So overwhelming.

There was nothing for it.

She gathered herself together ... and her
cries rang throughout the room.

She was dreaming, she thought. Distant sounds
of deep voices filled her ears. She would have opened her eyes, but
it seemed like too much effort. Besides, she was dreaming, and
opening her eyes would wake her up, and she didn’t want that.

So she lay still, enjoying the warmth of the
blanket on her bare skin, the heavy weight of her arms and legs
lying limp from exhaustion. A sweet ache throbbed gently between
her legs and her nipples were rock hard from over-stimulation.
Over-used. That was her.

In her dream, she smiled.

She wasn’t actually dreaming, though, she
realized after a few more minutes of floating. No, those male
voices she heard were real. And there was a hand on her head,
stroking her hair.

And another hand was on her hip, smoothing a
palm down the outside of her thigh and up again. Mmm. Warm.
Tingly.

She opened her eyes. Blinked twice to clear
her sight. She looked up to see Geoff smiling at her. He was the
one petting her hair.

She turned her head slightly and saw Sir on
her other side. He was the one touching her hip and leg.

She closed her eyes. Mmm. Yes, she remembered
it all now. How Sir cane shortly after she did, how Geoff held her
tight as she shook and quivered from the most outrageously superb
orgasm she’d ever experienced.

And she remembered them both cuddling her,
how they lay her down, settling her between them while they told
her in lovely ways how wonderful she was.

She must have drifted off.

“Was I asleep long?” she asked.

“No,” said Geoff. “Less than fifteen
minutes.”

“Wow,” was all she could think of in answer.
It felt like she’d been away for an age.

She rolled onto her back and stretched her
arms over her head.

“Are you sore?” Sir asked.

“I don’t think so.”

He pressed his hand between her legs, pushed
a finger past her swollen labia and into her pussy. “Are you sore
here?”

She winced. “A little. But I expected that.
I’m not, well ...”

“You’re not accustomed to such prolonged
activity,” Sir finished for her.

“Exactly.”

He removed his hand and she was oddly
disappointed. She mentally shook her head at herself.

“Well, my dear, you have certainly proven
yourself to be a breathtaking lover tonight. I don’t recall the
last time I enjoyed myself more,” Sir said.

She flushed slightly, a silly thing to do
under the circumstances. Still, that kind of compliment coming from
a man of Sir’s undoubted experience, well, it was a bit heady.

Geoff shifted on the bed. “I’ve told everyone
that you’re finished for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re sore. Like you said, it was
to be expected. Time for everyone to leave. They’d already be gone
except they wanted to say goodbye.”

Jasmine pushed herself up into a seated
position and looked around the room. Sure enough, there was Kyle,
Sean and Michael, two in chairs, one sitting on the edge of the
bed, all still naked, all smiling at her.

She smiled back, then couldn’t help but
notice that Kyle and Sean were hard — again. Unbelievable. They
were the youngest in the group though. That probably explained
it.

The fact that they wanted to say goodbye and
that they wanted more of her but wouldn’t ask it since she was sore
... it warmed her all over and set her mind to what should come
next.

She tossed aside the blanket, proudly
displaying her naked self to them all. “I’m not that sore.” And she
spread her legs open wide.

She nearly grinned at the sudden switch in
Kyle’s and Sean’s expression, the change from cheerful resignation
to greedy, open longing.

“Don’t push it,” said Geoff. “You don’t want
to hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. One more round, for
the willing. What do you say, Kyle? Sean?”

Geoff sighed and Sir made a sort of clipped
chuckle. Michael leaned back in his chair and began the process of
stroking his limp cock back into life.

Kyle and Sean rose, advanced toward her,
their stiff cocks leading the way.

She raised her knees, spread her legs wider
and lay back, sprawled herself open for them. Then she reached out
to either side of her, grabbing onto Geoff and Sir.

“Hold me,” she said, “and don’t let me
go.”

They wouldn’t.

Chapter 6

Whatever the ladies of the Fantasy Guild
(adjunct group to The Ladies Naughty Book Club) thought the first
sex report might be in their newly-formed organization, it wasn’t
what they got from Jasmine the night she delivered up her account
of the high stakes poker game. It was seriously, exponentially
better.

Not a member was absent when Jasmine settled
into her easy seat of honor and began her tale, nor were they
likely to be in the future, not if other reports were as
titillating as this one proved to be. Even the members who expected
to be scandalized and appalled couldn’t manage an iota of
indignation. No. Jasmine’s story was far too arousing for that.

Their naughty books generally excited them,
but those books were nothing to this true story from someone they
personally knew. And the idea that they themselves could partake,
if they dared, in something similar, was enough to send them racing
home for some attention from their husbands, boyfriends or
vibrators, as the individual cases may have been.

Jasmine was an excellent storyteller. She
described the men in great detail, what they looked like, how they
acted, how they were different and each one lovely and fuckable in
their own way. Some of the ladies lusted inside for the young pair,
Kyle and Sean, others for the commanding and dominant Sir, some for
the mysterious Michael. No one really considered Geoff.

Geoff had gotten short-shrift in Jasmine’s
recount of her suitors. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the
role he played. No, in fact, he was her headliner. She simply
didn’t speak much of him, or describe him too fully, because she
didn’t want the other women becoming too interested in him.

She glanced around the avid group of women,
continuing her sexy story. “Then I said, ‘Hold me, and don’t let me
go.’”

Several women sighed.

“Oh, and did they ... let go?” asked Cynthia,
her eyes sparkling.

“They did not,” answered Jasmine. “I can’t
describe what it’s like to have two men hold you down while another
one fucks you and another one is touching you all over. It’s beyond
anything.”

Ooh, was the response from more than one
woman.

“And you weren’t scared?” asked young
Layla.

“No,” said Jasmine. “Not once. Maybe I should
have been, but it just wasn’t frightening. They always made me feel
protected, even when they weren’t all that gentle.”

“Just the right balance of rough and tender,”
said Cynthia, practically swooning.

“Exactly,” said Jasmine.

“What happened next?” asked Margie.

“They fucked me.”

“All of them? Again?”

“No, all of them except Geoff and Sir.”

“Good God!” said Margie. “Were you able to
walk afterward?”

Jasmine laughed. “Yes, I was sore, still am
some, but I can walk fine.”

The room fell quiet as the ladies recalled
everything Jasmine had recounted about her evening. Some imagined
they had the nerve to do what she had done, others simply imagined
they were her.

As for Jasmine herself, she drifted off into
her own thoughts, her own memories of what happened after Michael,
Sean and Kyle finished fucking her that final time.

She lay on the bed, sprawled in an utterly
unladylike heap of satisfied wantonness. After the men got dressed,
they said their goodbyes.

They kissed her gently on the lips, one after
another, their hands straying over her well-handled breasts and
mound, her stomach and ass. They parted with reluctance, it seemed,
though a satiated reluctance.