A Birthday Feast, part 17

Now we hear from Janie one more time to find out what she has been feeling during all this torment, and then tomorrow Andale ends the story for us.


lilithdetail.jpg My body is begging for the return of Molly’s fingers. It pleads with me and with Molly of its own accord, arching and twisting, aching to be re-entered the way Molly and Kate’s mouths are being entered by each other’s fingers. I couldn’t see Andale’s fingers inside my Love, but I didn’t have to. The surprised look on her face when Andale stands tells me all.

I want and I need, and I am without control, without remedy. Andale’s taunting whispers in my ear are driving me well nigh to insanity. Promises of kindness so unkind in their delay. It is with great effort that I defy my tormentress, bravery I do not feel in the face of teasing I only halfway don’t desire. I am torn between what I want and what I need, and war rages within me between my body and my mind.

It is my body that emerges victorious and I succumb to the flush of chocolate heat that melts through my breasts and my soul and rushes hotly out of me, flowing freely from between my thighs and onto the rock beneath.

The sudden cold of Andale’s ice sends icy shock waves through me, but only intensifies the gushing of my burning cunt when one cube becomes my gag. It is yet another form of skillful restraint, as I no longer can give voice to my surrender or my pleading for mercy. That option is removed from me just as I am about to concede defeat in my challenge to my captors.

It is with great relief that I accept Kate’s kiss and my offer of ice to her is accepted. I am still gasping, finding my voice yet, when that relief turns unexpectedly to icy apprehension. My Lover moves between my legs and I feel her frigid kiss of further manipulation on my thighs. It is stimulation beyond my threshold, beyond my ability to withstand, and as she begins to draw out my cries of frustration, my view of the mischief in her eyes is obstructed by bare and dripping Molly.

Flavored drips hit first my chin, and then my tongue, and finally my mouth is full of Butterscotch and Brandy and Molly. There is no escape for my screams except deeply into Molly, and it is there that I release them, exchanging my voice for her forcefully grinding cunt. I have become a conduit. That which I need applied to me, travels through my body and directly to Molly. The more she pushes herself into me, the more I push myself into her, lips and teeth and tongue all working to release my own waves and spasms through Molly’s throat.

Once My Lover finally finds my desperate cunt, the teasing icicle of her tongue is nearly more than I can stand and I immediately lose control of my spasming body and it writhes away and against her ministrations without care or consent from its owner. In the deep recesses of my mind I am slightly concerned that I may injure Molly, but there is nothing I can do about that, I am so lost in need and neglect, love and lust, demand and desire.

At some point Kate’s tongue has warmed enough that my body makes its decision. While Molly and I are locked in our reverse tug of war, I finally begin to close on the promised ecstasy of my own orgasm. I am driven to the edge by the sudden fierce penetration of pounding fingers, fucking me wantonly. The abrupt addition of further force and girth pushes me beyond and beyond. My fucking skips only one beat, and it is in that instant that Molly’s grinding on my mouth changes to one single, nearly savage thrust into my face.

A Birthday Feast, part 17, written by JanieBelle. Part 18, the last and final installment, by Andale, will come tomorrow. To see all installments of the story, click here.

~ by Molly Montrevoir on March 9, 2007.

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