Chapter 395: The table 7

He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

She kissed it again, softer, and then drew her tongue slowly around the crown, lapping up the bead.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

He felt her warm breath on him, then the wet flat of her tongue sliding along the underside from base to tip, tracing the vein there.

Her lips closed around the head.

She sank down on him slowly, letting him fill her mouth. Her throat made a soft humming sound that went all the way through him.

Spit gathered at the corners of her mouth and began to drip down his shaft and over her fingers.

"Nellie," he groaned. His hand found her hair and tangled in it.

She took more of him.

She was careful about it and a little clumsy, but she was determined, and her cheeks hollowed when she drew back up.

Spit ran down his length and over her knuckles.

She swallowed him down until the tip bumped her throat, coughed, and pulled back with her eyes watering, but she did not stop.

She breathed through her nose, steadied herself, and went down again. The wet sounds were loud in the little room.

Each time she came up, a thin string of saliva trailed from her lower lip to the tip of him, and she licked it away and went back down.

Her hands stroked what her mouth could not reach, slick and warm.

Her thighs pressed together.

He could hear the faint, wet sound of her shifting on the cushion.

"That’s enough," Lor said eventually, and his voice was rough. "That’s wet enough. You’ve done it."

She drew back slowly. Her lips were swollen and shining. Her eyes were glossy and dark.

A line of spit had dripped down her chin onto her collarbone and into the open V of her blouse.

She looked at his cock, slick and throbbing in her hands, then back up at him. A drop of her own wetness had soaked through the front of her stockings and onto the cushion under her knees.

"I have something special for the Light," she whispered.

"What?"

She did not answer.

She let go of him, straightened up on her knees, and pushed the blouse off her shoulders.

It slid down her arms and pooled on the cushion. Then she reached behind her back and loosened the clasp... and stopped. Her fingers hesitated.

She left the bra on.

It was pink lace, and it was tight. Her breasts filled the cups to the edge, pushed together and up into a deep, soft cleft.

Lor’s eyes went to them at once.

They looked bigger.

He was sure of it now: fuller and heavier than he remembered, straining against the lace, and the skin along the top curve was flushed pink with excitement.

The nipples were hard enough to show through the fabric.

He opened his mouth to say so, and then looked at her face, and decided that this wasn’t the time to question her.

Nellie shuffled forward on her knees until her chest was level with his hips.

She cupped both breasts with her hands, pressed them together around his cock, and looked up at him.

"Tell me if it’s good," she said.

It was very good.

She rubbed his cock with her breasts and bra sandwiching it like a sausage, sliding up and down slowly at first, her breasts squeezing him in warm, soft pressure.

The slickness from her mouth made it smooth.

Then she found the rhythm and went faster.

His cock slid through the valley between them, the tip appearing at the top of the cleft with each stroke, flushed and glistening.

Every time it did she bent her head and ran her tongue over it, licking the bead of precum that gathered there.

She was frowning with concentration.

She was breathing hard. Her thighs were pressed together, and he could tell from her restless hips that she was just as turned on as he was.

The smell of her filled the small space between them.

"Fuck, Nellie," he said through his teeth.

"Is it good?"

"It’s so good."

She grinned, delighted, and squeezed harder.

A steady line of precum leaked from him with each stroke, running down over her breasts and the lace and into the cleft.

She smeared it across her skin with her palms and used it to go faster.

The sound it made was filthy and wet.

Lor leaned his head back against the lattice and let her work, his hips twitching. Heat gathered low in his stomach.

His cock throbbed hard between her breasts.

Every stroke dragged the sensitive head through the soft, slick heat of her cleavage and then against her tongue.

He could have stayed there for an hour.

But she looked up at him, and her lashes were damp, and she said in a small, serious voice, "Are you ready?"

He realised she was waiting for him.

He looked down at himself, heavy and leaking and aching between her tits, and then at her, flushed and eager and kneeling in a puddle of her own blouse, spit shining on her chin and her breasts.

"Yes," he said. "Yes. I’m ready."

Nellie let go of her breasts and rose slowly to her feet. Her knees wobbled, and she steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder. Then she turned her back to him, bent forward at the waist, and braced both palms on the low table.

The pleated skirt had fallen back into place. She reached behind her, caught the hem, and flipped it up over her waist.

Then she took hold of her cheeks with both hands and spread them wide for him again.

Her ass was pale and round and slightly pink where the plug had pressed. Below it, her pussy glistened, flushed and swollen, with a thread of wetness running down the inside of one stocking.

Above it, the small ring she had spent the whole morning preparing opened and closed with her quick breaths, shining with oil and his saliva.

The skin around it was warm.

She looked back at him over her shoulder. Her hair was loose, her face was red, and her eyes were fixed on him, wide and waiting.

Lor stood up.

His cock bobbed heavy and wet in front of him.

He stepped in behind her, put his hands on her hips, and let out a breath that was half a laugh.

"I’m so happy right now," he said, "that I can’t pick."

"Um..." Her voice shook. "Let the Light decide."

"All right." He smiled. "I’ll let the Light decide."

He closed his eyes.

He took himself in one hand and set the head against her.

He did not look.

He felt the heat of her, the slick, the give, one place, then the other, and he stopped caring which.

He gripped her hip hard, drew a breath, and pushed forward.

He slid straight into her ass.

"Ah—!"