A Birthday Feast, part 15

mollyinthemirror.jpgThe syrup is warm and thick and it clings to my skin as it drips down my body. The warmth of the sun raises the buttery sweet scent and it envelops me. When the pressure of Andale’s hand on my shoulder propels me toward Janie, I feel like my body moves in the same languorous way as the syrup. My knees don’t feel weak; they feel fluid. My body flows toward Janie’s mouth as I lower myself over her eager face. As her tongue finds my cunt I melt. She is hungry. She has been the focus of all attention, and this is the only way she can respond. Her lips, her tongue, her head — these are the only parts of her body she can freely move, and I am now the recipient of all that pent up energy. It is as if every bit of will in her body is channeled through her mouth and into my cunt. We have consumed her, and now she is feeding on me. If I could dissolve myself on her tongue I think I would.

I see Kate, kneeling between Janie’s legs, and for a moment our eyes meet, both of us transported in very different ways. Now I see the chain extended: Kate consuming Janie who feeds on me … and Andale … Where is Andale? I can still feel her hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to kiss her and she catches my chin with one long and slender finger. I reach around and pull her to my side. I twist my body to press it against hers, covering her in sticky sweetness. I lower my mouth to her breast. Taking her nipple between my teeth, I flick at it with my tongue, transmitting to her hardening, stiffening flesh the pulsing the rhythm of Janie’s tongue on my clit. The rhythm becomes stronger, deeper, more regular. I reach between Andale’s legs with my other hand and find her soaking with her own desire. My fingers slide in so easily. First one, then a second, then a third, pressing her open and drumming the same pulsing rhythm against the forward wall of her cunt. My palm is pressed against her clit. My mouth is locked tightly against her incredibly full, soft breasts. My own cunt is grinding against Janie’s ravenous mouth.

The staccato of her tongue on my clit speeds up now, and almost as a reflex my own tongue and fingers match her pace. I lose any sense of time beyond the meter of the percussion score we are composing. I feel Andale tighten around my pulsing fingers, and I press even harder against the front wall of her slick smooth cunt. She is coming and she grabs my hair, quickly wrapping it around her hand and pulling my head back, forcibly detaching my mouth from her breast. The look in her eyes is pure and wild and it drives me over the edge. I am coming against Janie’s lips, against her tongue. In some part of my consciousness is a vague concern that I must be smothering her and yet I am assured by the insistent and demanding way she continues to devour me that she is absolutely fine. She is clearly not finished with me.

I, though, am gasping for breath now. Andale slides up and off of my fingers and comes back around behind me where I can sink against her. There is nothing I can do but ride the continuous waves of Janie’s tongue and the relentless caresses of her lips.

A Birthday Feast, part 15, written by Molly. To read the whole story, so far, click here.

~ by Molly Montrevoir on March 1, 2007.

5 Responses to “A Birthday Feast, part 15”

  1. I can almost taste you, and you are delicious.

  2. I trust you’ll tell us all about it, JanieBelle!

  3. Patience, my Dear Molly! Patience!

    😉

  4. Now who’s talking about patience!! Andale, did you see that? JanieBelle is learning some of your tricks!

  5. Andale is quite the teacher, as we’re all learning at our little luncheon…

    😉

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