Only Caligula remains externally unmoved. He continues to sip from his crystal goblet without exchanging a word with anyone, without taking his eyes off the women. Without taking his eyes off Sibylle. In reality within him there is a visceral disruption. Among those present he is the most stunned by what he sees. Sibylle — his frigid Sibylle, his boring Sibylle — is there in front of him fore-playing with another woman in front of seven men, of seven strangers. It can't be, it's absurd! In his head many questions are floating now. He starts to wonder if it could have been possible that it was because of him that she has never showed that side of her. Is it possible that it was also his fault? That it was all his fault? It's improbable that in less than a year she changed so radically, so this means that within her there has always been a sensual and uninhibited side that couldn't express freely, and it waited for the right opportunity to express itself in all its resplendent beauty. And though he had always mocked and belittled her, he is shocked to see her so self confident in showing herself before other men! It's almost an oneiric vision...
Meanwhile, Nymphe looks at her own breasts caressed energetically by Sibylle's hands; she tilts her head to the side while her pink tongue slip out from the lips. Sibylle looks at her and smiles seeing that mute sensual request of a more intimate contact with their mouth. Sibylle moves near her face and closes her eyes sticking out her tongue too and beginning to French-kiss her sensually.
The men sit more comfortably, leaning back in the couch and spreading their legs to allow the erection to press against the pants and grow freely without restrictions.
The two women continue to lick their tongues with their eyes closed, feeling an incredible pleasure. The music is a perfect sensual soundtrack now. They stop licking to look into each other's eyes feeling their warm breathe brush against their lips. Lips that now look pinker and thicker. Nymphe takes off Sibylle's bra and now it's her turn to worship her breast. Sibylle sits well arching her body to better offer herself to those attentions.
Drakkar takes a deep breath. It is a beautiful gift indeed, but he doesn't know if he can resist not to possess her carnally! He looks at Tarasque and understands that also him has the same thought about Nymphe.
Lupin and Tribal unbutton their pants to free their members grabbing them by the root and touching them with slow movements, while watching those two beautiful women moaning and swaying in pleasure. Even Richelieu and Taurus are about to masturbate discreetly, in fact they are already touching the bump under the fabric. Caligula-Claude has an erection too, but he doesn't seem willing to unbutton his pants in front of others; he really has a great self-control, we must give him that credit. He places the goblet on the floor and keep staring at the girls controlling his breathe.
Nymphe really loves Sibylle's small breast because she kisses it with great devotion, pinching the nipples with her lips making her moaning insistently. Sibylle black curled hair fall beautifully on her shoulders and on her back like a dark waterfall; her legs bent and slightly apart are very sensual; her dreamy face and half opened mouth makes her look tremendously attractive. She gently draws Nymphe's head on the other breast, asking her in a whisper to lick and kiss it hard, then she arches her back more, sliding a hand in her own panties to touch her tenderness. The men hold their breath.
«No, don't touch yourself yet, baby.» says Drakkar. «Stand up.»
Sibylle stands up with her legs slightly apart in front of the men.
«Takes her panties off, Nymphe.» orders kindly Tarasque.
Nymphe slips her fingers under the fabric on the sides of Sibylle's fine panties and pulls them down very slowly, letting the men enjoy the foretaste. Now Richelieu and Taurus have freed their members touching them gently. Only Drakkar, Tarasque and Caligula haven't unbuttoned themselves, despite their obvious erections.
Sibylle looks at Nymphe going down on her knees in front of her and sighs excited; lifts elegantly her feet one at time to help Nymphe remove the panties. Now she is naked with only a pair of lovely high-heeled red shoes and black stocking on. Nymphe touches softly Sibylle on the legs, on the thighs, on the bottom and on the silky strip of dark hair on the Mons Veneris. Nymphe makes a sound of appreciations when she notices her large labia hanging like the folded wings of a beautiful butterfly; she admires them for long then stretches them gently. She looks at Sibylle's face to see if she likes it and the dreamy expression of the girl it's the answer. Nymphe plays with those soft, exposed, velvety labia; she pinches them with her lips and pulls gently and — when she can't resist anymore — she starts to lick them. Her pink tongue licks that meaty clam that smells like violets. Touches the clitoral hood that overhangs from the labia in all its pride, then stretches her whole intimate flesh exposing her most feminine part. The men hold their breath at the vision of that pink and moist pearl. Nymphe touches Sibylle there making her involuntarily contract the stomach, and soon after she moves her tongue to lick her well. Sibylle throws her head back with her jaws trembling. The part that she has always kept hidden, because of her sense of inadequacy, now she shows it proudly.
Caligula tightens his lips feeling a deep excitement, an unknown excitement.
«Spread better your lovely intimate lips, Améthyste.» says Drakkar with a hoarse voice while slowly moving the hand on his erect member.
Sibylle lowers her head toward her own crotch and spreads her lips with her fingers, exposing herself better. Nymphe continues to lick her moaning in pleasure.
«Good girl, Nymphette», says Tarasque, «lick her gently, let her enjoy your heavenly mouth.»
Sibylle feels Nymphe's tongue harden and move faster, and that makes her bend on her knees a bit.
Drakkar looks Tarasque motioning him with his chin to get up. Tarasque gets up and goes next to Sibylle. At that point all the men sit more comfortably while a soft buzz fills the room for a moment: one the most important member of the Club — Drakkar — has just given the permission to another member to interact with the girls! Now the atmosphere is much more intense.
Tarasque touches Sibylle's back, but his attention is all for Nymphe kneeled there in front, intent to lick her friend. The man bends over to caress her head, smiling gently.
«Mmmm, you are such a good licker, Nymphette. Open your mouth better and stick out your beautiful tongue.» says the man hoarsely.
Nymphe opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, remaining still. Tarasque rests a hand at the base of Sibylle's back telling her in a whisper to bend down on the girl's open mouth.
«Rub your sweet pussy on Nymphette's tongue, Améthyste, let her taste your delicious juice.»
Sibylle bends her knees slightly and rubs her intimate flower on Nymphe's tongue moving sensually back and forth.
Tarasque nods.
«Good girl. Now bend a bit more till you fill her mouth. That's right.»
Nymphe closes her eyes and moans softly after Sibylle almost sits on her mouth.
«Move your tongue now, Nymphette.» says gently Tarasque.
Nymphe clings to Sibylle's legs and begins to move her tongue, feeling her own nipples hardening. Sibylle pants hard squeezing her breasts, moving faster on the girl's mouth.
Tarasque caresses Nymphe's head urging her to lick well as she knows, then goes back to sit comfortably on the couch.
After a few minutes Sibylle feels the orgasm approaching inexorably so moves away from Nymphe wanting enjoy longer that feelings. She kneels down in front of her friend to kiss the lips that gave all that pleasure, while the men look at them fascinated, slowly moving their hands over their members.
«Lie down on the chaise longue, Nymphe, let Améthyste exchange the favor and adore your pussy.» says Richelieu.
Nymphe and Sibylle giggles and hug each other, completely in agreement with that. Nymphe comfortable lies down on the chaise longue bending one leg and keeping the other on the fluffy rug. Améthyste moves on all fours in front of her legs and begins to lick her gently. In that position, Sibylle shows her perfect rounded mi
lky bottom, and the men admire her, often tilting their heads from side to side. Sibylle enlarge better Nymphe's labia with her fingers and pass her juicy tongue all over her wet pussy, licking the girl with passion. Nymphe squirms and arches her back, gasping long “yes” and squeezing hard her own big breasts. The only thing the two women feel now is a deep excitement and the desire to satisfy their carnal instincts. After several minutes — when Nymphe seems about to come — Améthyste lets her go and gently pulls her down on the rug with her caressing her panting body. They French-kiss for long again, with those warm tongues slipping vigorously. After that exquisite moments they sit facing each other, with their legs apart beginning to rub their warm and wet meaty clams together. Both with one hand on the floor and the other touching the friend's breast while their pelvis move rhythmically. With their mouth half opened, the men look at them almost in ecstasy enjoying the view of those mouthwatering bodies moving sensually in search of the extreme pleasure. They are absolute beautiful in that naked dance, a primordial dance without useless inhibitions dictated by a suppressing futile moral. They are two souls that enjoy their femininity sharing sweet pleasure like two rare flowers in a meadow of grass. They caress, hug, kiss, move their bodies and moan continuously. Sibylle pushes gently Nymphe on her back on the rug, grabs her thighs keeping them wide apart before to sit on her exposed tender pussy rubbing hers against it.
The seven men exclaim a surprised “oh” seeing that sensual action and appreciating their natural way to nourish their lust in that way. Especially Sibylle is in the throes of pleasure. She closes her emerald eyes and opens her mouth while her whole body shakes. She rubs her pussy on that of Nymphe's, panting and moaning uncontrollably.
Drakkar place his goblet on a tea table next to the couch, gets up and goes to her, followed by the interested eyes of all the men, especially those of Claude. He crouches down behind Sibylle puts one of his big hands on her throat and another on her stomach and gently draws her against his massive chest.
«Shhh.» he whispers to her ear. «Calm down, baby, please don't come yet.»
She pauses and opens her eyes, smiling but not finding enough breath to reply. Drakkar strokes her breast.
«That's it, baby, breathe slowly.» he says softly. «You and Nymphe are like two divinities for us tonight. Please, let us desire your touching femininity a bit longer, don't come too soon, okay?»
She nods and he turns her head to kiss her on the lips, then goes back to his place again.
Sibylle looks at Nymphe and both giggle amused by their own excitement which makes them look so delirious. She lies on Nymphe kissing and licking her on the neck and behind the ears.
«Good girls, catch your breath.» says Drakkar sipping from his fine crystal goblet. «Why don't you come over here to taste a bit of wine?» he adds.
The two women crawl up to him while he wet one of his thick fingers in the wine. He hands it to Nymphe and the girl takes it into her mouth sucking it hard, looking at him in the eye.
Drakkar emits a low growl which Sibylle knows well and that makes her shudder every time she hears it. Nymphe sucks that big finger moving slowly her head back and forth, exposing her small butt while her big breasts hang down like two mature fruits hanging from a fertile tree. Sibylle is mesmerized by that beauty and has the same thoughts of men, so she extends a hand to touch and squeeze those soft breasts. But then focuses on Drakkar when the man pulls his finger from Nymphe's mouth and wet it again with the wine before handing it to her. Sibylle opens her lovely lips and sticks out her tongue letting him penetrate her mouth with his whole finger. Keeping eye contact — so that both of them can exchange a gaze of mutual pleasure — she tights her lips around that finger. Her emerald and sweet eyes melt something in Drakkar's stomach. He has never been touched in that way by anyone; he never felt those shivers that caress his back every time she looks at him like that, with those beautiful cat's eyes. Similarly, the piercing green-amber eyes of the man are a dream vision for Sibylle, who feels a warmth in the blood when those eyes stare at her. She suck hard his finger and looks down between his legs where the erection is pressing against his pants. Drakkar slips out from that loving mouth, caresses her lips with his thumb which she licks almost involuntarily. Drakkar smiles.
«If you like, you are free to taste the wine of the other men too.» he tells them in a deep voice.
Nymphe crawls straight to Tarasque whom cannot hold back a smirk. When she arrives in front of him — staying on her hands and knees — she opens her mouth looking at him with pleading eyes, as only she can do. And just like he loves. He looks at her continuing to sip his wine, staring insistently at her from his position. She admires those blue eyes under the mask.
«What do you want, hmmm? Have you come to beg something?» asks Tarasque playfully.
Only hearing him speaking like that she feels aroused.
«Yes, Sir.» she says in a trembling voice.
He leans over her, so that others cannot hear as they speak.
«And what you want exactly? Drink my wine, maybe?»
She takes a deep breath, her lips parted and her eyes fixed on his mouth.
«No, Sir, I just want to suck your finger.»
«“I want”?»
«I would.» she corrects herself.
«“I would”?» accuses him again.
She bites her lower lip.
«May I?»
«You may what?»
«May I suck your finger, Sir?»
He smiles mockingly and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at her.
«No.» he answers, before serenely sip from his goblet.
Her eyes become shiny, saddened by his refusal. He emphasizes his smile: he loves when she does those cute puppy eyes, she is just like he always desired a woman to be.
«But you can lick my goblet.» he says generously, handing it to her.
She gets closer to lick the glass, but he withdraws his hand and looks at her with reproach. Nymphe understands.
«Thank you for allowing me to lick your goblet, Sir.»
He nods satisfied and hands her the glass, which she licks slowly and sensually under his watchful eyes.
Meanwhile, Sibylle is sucking Tribal's finger and the man doesn't stop grunting with pleasure making her almost laugh. She then sucks Lupin's finger and after that also Taurus and Richelieu's. These last two gently put their fingers in her mouth at the same time, praising her passion. Sibylle lowers her eyelids letting the two men move their fingers in her mouth, under the adoring gaze of Drakkar. And also the very interested gaze of Claude.
Nymphe, in the meantime, licks too vigorously the goblet and few drops of wine fall on the rug. She and Tarasque look down on the little red stain and then at each other. She gasps something incomprehensible, probably an apology, but he doesn't seem willing to let it go. He places the glass on the table nearby and grabs her chin slapping softly her delicate face with the other hand. It is one of those light slaps that he is very good in giving and she loves to take: a lot of noise but no effective pain.
Drakkar looks reproachfully at Tarasque, but Tarasque doesn't seem to care. Claude, instead, is watching them with deep interest. Tarasque pushes Nymphe's head down flattening her face on the floor; a second later he pulls her head up again and she looks deeply mortified.
«I—I'm sorry, Sir!»
He flares his nostrils and gets her face closer so to bite gently her lower lip before to kiss her. When he lets her go, she remains with her mouth open, rapturously expecting to feel more of that wonderful kiss. Tarasque smiles and caresses her face before to spank her hard on that smooth butt.
«Go away, Nymphette, before I mount you here in front of the others!» he murmurs excited.
She giggles turning her back and crawling to Claude. When she stops in front of the man she closes her eyes opening the mouth, waiting for his finger. But Claude raises his hand ready to slap her hard.
«Don't-you-dare-to-do-it.» hisses Tarasque staring a
t him sideways.
Nymphe opens her eyes and looks at Claude to understand what is going on.
«When you slapped her she liked it!» complains Claude.
«Did she give you the permission to do so?» asks Tarasque.
Claude is extremely angered by that affront.
«And you then?»
«I got her permission to do this every time I want to.»
Drakkar realizes of that grumbling, but still doesn't intervene.
Claude looks at Nymphe.
«Is it true that you have given him permission to treat you like that whenever he wants?»
«Yes.»
«Can I treat you like this too?»
«No.»
Claude clenches his jaw, clearly refraining himself from hitting her seriously. Nymphe feels the nervousness of the man and crawls away, going near Sibylle who is still playing with Tribal's finger.
Claude leans over Tarasque snarling.
«You're just a lucky bastard to have such a whore at your feet!»
Tarasque remains impassive.
«And you are just a rude ignorant. We are not repressed teenagers, Caligula, we are men who know what sex is and what role play is; we indulge in respect and complicity, so don't you dare to disrespect a woman who is donating herself. And better for you not to disrespect Nymphe again, not in front of me.»
Claude grimaces.
«Who the hell you think you are to talk to me like that?! Do you think you can do whatever you want just because you are a member of the sublime? Without your precious ring you are nothing!»
Tarasque sips calmly his wine.
«You better not use that tone with me, Caligula.»
Claude grinds his teeth.
«Or what?»
Tarasque doesn't bat an eyelid.
«Or I'll make you kick out of the Club.»
Claude chuckles in derision.
«You? Ha! I don't think you have the power to do that!»
«And I don't think you understand how powerful I am in the Club.»
«You consider yourself powerful just because you are a member of the Black Onyx Pact?!»
The Black Onyx Pact Page 26