Balustrade by Mark Henry Page B

Hilary was gripping the headboard and thrusting across his mouth, riveted to the spot and hell-bent on keeping the sensation. Her jaw sore from clenching, grinding. Jack's little grunts drifted up like a reminder. She reluctantly raised herself off of him and twisted around hooking her arms over the top of the headboard and wiggling her ass above his greedy mouth, he snapped at her ass, little love bites that drove her insane. She glanced down the length of him, tan and rippling, his cock rock hard and pinioned against the gutters of his abs, a bead of desire kissed from the slit. Hilary settled her asshole closer to Jack's beseeching lips, his darting tongue and let out a soft mewling as he wet her tight little bud, prodding her pucker in twisting dabs. She sank into him and stretched her foot out to caress his prick, stroking it softly with her toes, pressing it even tighter against him with the pad of her foot. Jack moaned into her and fed all the more, slipping his thumb into her twat and tracing circles around her clit, teasing her with the possibility.
    Hilary glanced across from the bed, at the wall of windows and directly at a shadowy figure. For a moment she thought—hoped—it was Ludovic, come to work his way into Hilary’s fantasy. But it wasn’t.
    Chantal’s face lit in the soft glow of a cigarette cherry. The smoke curled about her head, a grey hood, her eyes sparking beneath the cloak. Hilary tensed and lifted herself off of Jack.
    “ Whassit?” Jack mumbled sleepily.
    “ Chantal. She’s standing out there,” Hilary whispered. “Jesus. Can’t she take a hint?”
    Jack craned his neck to get a look, just as Chantal took another drag, disappearing behind that glowing bud. Rudolf the red-nosed voyeur. Hilary had every intention of bolting from the bed, nude or not, and giving the woman a piece of her mind.
    But Jack had other ideas.
    “Never mind her.” He gripped her around her thighs and nuzzled his nose back into the crack of her ass, straining forward to tongue her clit.
    Hilary struggled with a deep desire to confront the woman —really lay into her for not getting a goddamn clue—and an almost messianic need to stay as close as possible to Jack’s determined tongue. If he had, as Hilary suspected, been taken aside and given some hint as to what exactly was needed in the pussy-eating department, then he was an apt pupil and she'd be happy to let him practice any time.
    Any time. Well, not any time.
    Humiliation blazed on her cheeks as Chantal continued to stare. Still, Hilary kept her mouth shut, when she wasn't gasping from the pleasure shuddering through her loins. Her arms shook, weary from the position, still crucified to the headboard and weakening by the second.
    “S-stop,” she stuttered and wriggled her ass a bit to clue Jack in. “I'm going to smother you in a second.”
    He l oosened his grip on her thighs.
    B ut Chantal, seemingly aware of her surprise simply nodded, waved inconsequently and not so much stepping aside as drifting away, the darkness reclaiming her, leaving them alone.
    Realizing she'd been holding her breath, Hilary lowered herself again, letting Jack take her as he was, but he was seemingly done. He lifted her off him, twisting himself between her legs until he was sitting on his heels, facing her and she was lowering herself again, fitting her sex around his cock and riding, feeling that familiar girth fill her so completely that she couldn't conceive of a time when she wouldn't want it.
    Hilary forced herself to take him deep, until she was tight against Jack's lap. Their arms clamped around each other, her tits pressed against him and his face looking up at her with a pained wanton expression that she couldn't resist kissing away, when she turned her head to the side, she heard him whisper.
    “ I'm going to fuck you in the ass, now. And then you're going to fuck me.” He punctuated the statement with powerful thrusting, lifting her nearly all the way off his