The Choosing

by Darcy Sweet

  Each stroke drew him deeper into the Sarran way. His skin sang with power, his hips rocked in an age old dance of worship. I came to his front to watch Corina kneeling at the altar of his cock. I took her head in my hands, slowing the movement of her mouth.

  “Please, pleasssse,” he groaned, losing the power of speech to the teasing, slow, sucking pleasure of Corina’s mouth.

  I knelt down to Corina’s ear. “Let him fuck your face now.” I whispered. She groaned in pleasure and thrust forward to take Nadar’s cock deep in her throat.

  “Come now. Come now my love.”

  As his body jerked forward I came in with the brush to mark his belly with my symbol—with the power of the Vessel. As the last brush stroke completed the spell Nadar cried out his orgasm.

  Corina pulled back and brought Nadar’s cock down to spray his seed across her firm young breasts. After his orgasm was complete she came and offered her breasts to me. I dipped my head to lick the seed from her young tits, watching Nadar’s face all the while, looking for his reaction to what had just occurred.

  He stepped towards me, chanting the words I most wanted to hear, “Give and take. Take and receive. The cycle of pleasure. Take and share the power.”

  He had accepted the Sarran way. He had accepted me.

  “I share with you now. I give to you now. I take my pleasure with you.” His words rolled over me like a wash of heat. My sex dripped wet with the need for him to claim me hard.

  “On your knees,” he ordered.

  I submitted with pleasure, falling to the soft carpet of grass.

  “On all fours.”

  Yes. Yes. There was nothing I wanted more.

  I dropped my hand before me and waited on all fours for his next order. It did not come. Instead the fat head of his cock thrust deep inside my sex.

  The moan I let out shook the trees around us. The lanterns danced at the sound of my voice. A rainbow of color strobed across our skin. I raised my head to see Hatha with the ceremonial brush, painting Corina’s writhing body.

  “Pleasure her,” Nadar cried out, “Pleasure your Mistress.”

  Corina slid beneath my body on her back, bringing her mouth up to latch upon my clitoris. Her pretty young sex spread in offering at my mouth, I lowered my head to taste her, groaning at the sweetness of her syrup.

  Hatha brushed magic across my back as Nadar took me hard. The soft ink bristles flashed the heat of sexual magic across my skin.

  I was the heat. The darkness. I was the moon. I was all power and all power surged through me.

  I came. Clenching my sex around Nadar’s cock and spurting my release over Corina’s sweet mouth.

  Nadar slipped free of my sex and pulled me back to rest upon his chest. He lay on the ground and I turned to mount him. I looked down at his sex flushed face and let the love pour from my soul.

  I sang. A wordless song of love and joy.

  The cycle was complete. The Claiming had set. I had a home. A purpose in this one man.

  Together we would learn the Sarran way. Together we would reunite our people.

  The path I had begun on the road to the Night Palace ended here with this choice. My choice.

  Nadar.

  My dark angel.

  The End

  ABOUT DARCY SWEET

  Darcy Sweet has a dirty secret—she has a head full of wicked stories.

  She’s thinking of them in the line at the grocery store, at the library, in the bank and sitting in the car at a red light. At first she only shared them with her husband now she’s decided to share them with you. When not writing or thinking about writing she’s reading or negotiating peace terms between the argumentative little people who live with her. She is a music snob who loves to make mixtapes of little known music. Her current musical obsession is foul mouthed depressive Scottish bands.

  She loves erotica and hopes that her stories make you hot and bothered. Her favorite erotica authors are Selena Kitt, Emma Holly, Michelle Houston, Portia Da Costa and because she’s partial to a Bromance, the very, very wicked Habu.

  If you enjoyed THE CHOOSING, you might also enjoy:

  IMPRINTED

  By Darcy Sweet

  "The right kink…watching…spanking…" Mrs. D lifted her hand, and then swished it through the air. I flinched waiting for the contact that never came. "Kinks like those imprint on your sexuality. As solid as a handprint in wet concrete. They're with you forever."

  One summer college break while working for his Step Dad's landscaping firm Jacob accidentally spies a naked Mrs. D masturbating. He tries not to watch-not wanting to be a Peeping Tom-but when Mr. D arrives home and begins to spank his wife he finds that he can't turn away. He's so turned on by the scene that he makes himself come while watching. He thinks that's the end of it until Mrs. D looks out the window and whispers his name.

  He's been caught.

  He waits for her to tell his Step Father and all hell to break loose, but instead she invites him back-to watch again. This time the play revolves around him. Mrs. D elicits a confession from her husband exposing that he wants Jacob. Jacob hear it and realizes that he wants him too.

  Jacob finds himself pulled into the sexual web of the provocative Mrs. D. Through her he lives out fantasies that he never knew he had-fantasies that forever imprint upon his sexual psyche.

  Warnings: This title contains ménage, m/m sex, m/m/f sex, anal sex, exhibitionism, spanking and non-consensual sex play.

  EXCERPT:

  I got there just before midday. Standing in the garden outside the master bedroom I wasn’t sure what I should be doing. Whether I’d been brought to watch again or whether she really did just want the yard done. Maybe Mrs. D was giving me the benefit of the doubt and she was just going to let the last time go. I had all my garden tools. They were sitting at my feet. I was in the exact same spot that I’d been last time. I could still see the indent of my boot prints from before. The window was open again—wider this time. The room was dark. With so much garden it didn’t get much natural light. She must have had the light on last time.

  I looked at my watch. It was now quarter past. I was just about to get to work, actually weeding the garden when I heard the bedroom door open and saw the light flick on.

  She came into the room, guiding a blindfolded Mr. D. If she saw me again she didn’t acknowledge it at all. She was wearing a robe. Loosely tied. I could see she was naked underneath. Her breasts swayed freely under the silky fabric and when she tugged on his arm I saw a mouthwatering sliver of nipple.

  ‘”How long are the kids with Grandma?” He asked. I could hear them more clearly with the window all the way open. He was smiling wide and loosening his tie. The suit jacket must’ve been lost somewhere else in the house. He was only in his business shirt and suit pants.

  “Another three weeks.”

  “Do I get a special lunchtime treat everyday for the next three weeks?”

  She laughed and said, “If you’re a good boy.” Mrs. D led him over to the bed and he sat with his back to me. She knelt in front of him. I couldn’t see what she was doing but I heard the slap of his shoes against the floorboard, the metallic clink of his belt buckle and the swish of his zipper.

  “What do I get if I’m bad?”

  His pants were gone, she slapped her hands lightly on his thighs, he lifted up his butt and she removed his briefs. I heard him groan. His head fell back and his shoulders dropped. The wet sound of sucking made it obvious what she was doing. She wouldn’t fumble. She’d be good. I was sure of it. Through my khaki work pants I squeezed the head of my cock and imagined the wet heat of her mouth.

  With Mr. D blindfolded and the invitation from Mrs. D I felt comfortable that she actually wanted me here. She wanted me to see this, so I unbuttoned my fly and let my dick spring out.

  “If you’re bad. Then I’ll have to punish you.”

  He laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Do you like the blindfold?”

  ‘
Yes.’ His voice sounded thick and deep. Not at all like the commanding tone of the other day.

  “You don’t know what’s happening—do you? You don’t know what I’m going to do next.” She stood up now, dropped the robe and I had to stop myself from groaning. That woman was made to be naked. Perfect rounded curves.

  “No.”

  When she leaned forward to remove his shirt her breasts rubbed against his face. He groaned the way I wanted to and moved his mouth to find a nipple. As he sucked deep on her tit her eyes closed. She speared her fingers his hair and gripped his head, keeping him at her breast.

  “Good. That’s good,” she said as she pulled away. There was a wet popping sound as his mouth released. Her hands went to his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed.

  “Move back now. Back until I tell you to stop.”

  Still blindfolded he shifted back into the middle of the bed. Side on, so I could see him best. Was she positioning him for me I wondered? That would mean she knew I was there, but she still had yet to even look at the window.

  Did she know I was there?

  She straddled him now. As she lifted her leg I saw the slick puffy lips of her cunt.

  That’s what he called it last time.

  Her cunt.

  I liked the word. How it made me feel to hear him say it. She was now positioned over his thighs, so his cock was still clearly visible. Did she do that for me? So I could see him?

  “Eyes covered like that you wouldn’t even know if someone was watching,” she said.

  He gasped, and his hips flexed up off the bed for a moment.

  “You like the idea—don’t you?”

  He shook his head, but it was obvious he did like it. His cock was jumping at her every word.

  She leaned forward, draping her breasts across him so his dick nestled between the soft mounds. “Do you like the idea of someone watching?” She asked, “I wonder what they’d be doing as they watched. What do you think they’d be doing Lucas?”

  He didn’t answer. She pressed her breasts together and trapped his cock between the soft mounds. How good would that feel? I brought both my hands down, sandwiched my cock between my palms and tried to imagine the feeling.

  “Answer me.”

  She snaked out her tongue and licked the head of his cock. I dragged my thumb across mine mimicking her.

  “What would they do?” She gripped the base of his cock and as she spoke her lips touched the head.

  “Masturbate.” He whispered the word.

  “You want someone to come watching you? Watching me suck your cock. Lick your balls. Fuck my tits. Is that what you want?”

  He groaned out a word that sounded like, “Yes”.

  “Is it a man or a woman? Who’s watching us?”

  She sucked his cock in her mouth and he cried out, “Fuck!” in a strangled tone.

  Drawing back, still holding his cock in one hand she asked, “Who’s watching us Lucas?”

  He didn’t answer. Just shook his head as if he couldn’t say the words. Looking frustrated she shook her head and let go of his cock, letting it slap back against his stomach. “Answer me now or you don’t get to come. Tell me who you want watching us, making themselves come. Who is it? A man or a woman?”

  His reply was soft, but I heard the words clearly. “A man.”

  She sat up and reached down to again take his cock in hand. “You want a man to beat his meat, stroke his cock, up and down...” Her hand matched time with her voice. “...up and down until they spurt cum?”

  “Yes. Yes.” His hips arched off the bed. Mine were rocking back and forth in the same rhythm as her—as if hypnotized.

  “What if they were in here now? A young strong man. Barely twenty. Muscled, lean and sweaty. Working the yard he heard you cry out. Heard what you wanted and came in. What if he was in here with us, right now, his cock in hand? Watching you, ready to shoot his cum all you. All over your stomach.”

  Me, they were talking about me, and I liked it.

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