Hellfire {6/11}afterandalasiaOctober 17 2014, 22:26:19 UTC
"Spill your seed in me," she said, her voice a little more of an order than a request. "It will not have time to root."
"Fuck," said one of the other men, "you've got a filthy mouth on you."
"We all saw that," said the third, and the two of them laughed nervously, as if they were not quite sure they were allowed to. But Esmeralda threw her head back and laughed as well, louder than either of them.
"Some tongues were made to preach, or to sing," she said, eyes flashing green as she turned on them, each thrust harder now and winding tighter, pulsing pleasure into her though it was not enough, nowhere near enough. "Some were made to fuck."
The hand that had been caressing her throat slid up, and two the soldier with the moustache pressed two fingers past her lips. She sucked them in greedily, ran her tongue around them and bobbed her head, and saw his spit-slicked cock twitching at his groin. She let her eyes fluttered closed to lose herself to them, cock and hands and searching fingers, and finally felt the rush of something that might be a prelude to climax, a wet rather than a dry pleasure that was something more than simply the readying of her cunt to be fucked.
"Sacre madre," groaned the man buried in her. She locked her legs around him lest he pulled away, and felt the hot pulse as he came, still trying to thrust his twitching cock deeper into her. She could feel it spilling from her, hot and sticky on her thighs, but only when he slumped over her breathlessly did she release him and slide her mouth from the fingers it sucked, in the same moment.
Slipping one hand between her thighs, Esmeralda bought it up again sticky with come, and licked it from her fingers with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. Even if the men had not heard the footsteps in the corridor, so intent had they been on fucking her, she had. And what was there to hide? She had nothing left to lose, nothing more to sacrifice; the worst that she could see would me that the newcomer would stop their sport, and even then she could laugh at the thought that they would have to report it to Frollo and tell him of her indecencies.
She did not expect the man called Jean to pale and step away, trying to cover his cock with one hand. "C-captain!" he stammered.
For one fraction of a second she had the absurd thought that it was Phoebus, and that if there was any man she would not wish to see her like this, it would be him. But no, Phoebus was a traitor now as much as she was, and would have his own cell in this place. Though doubtless he would be spending his last hours rather differently than she was.
She turned to look, eyes falling upon a man with a captain's armour and a leader's bearing, with one soldier on each side of him and a shocked expression. There was a glitter of arousal in his eyes, though, and when he spoke his voice had a hoarseness to it.
"Who is this whore?" he said.
"Why captain," said Esmeralda, before one of the men could say something foolish, break the spell that she had woven with shining lips and heaving breasts and the musk of sex in the air. "Why do you think that I would demand payment?"
She could feel the trickle of seed down her thigh, white against the brown of her skin; her hair was sticking to her skin with sweat.
Strange, how luck could abandon her outside but be with her in this place. The lust in the captain's eyes grew, overcame his shock, and he strode over to grab her by the throat with one gauntleted hand. Her wits could not forgive her if she did not grab for his sword, but the soldiers around her grabbed her wrists to restrain her, and even as she pulled against their holds she gave a feral smile, full of teeth, to the man facing her.
"You are no prostitute, then, you say?"
"Or one who takes fuck instead of coin," she said, feeling the damp of his palm against her skin. She caught his eye, held it defiantly, and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. From the expression on his face, she coud see the exact moment when his lust won out against his duty, and he reached down to fumble at his hose in turn. She turned her gaze to the two other soldiers still in the doorway, looking uncertainly at each other. "Watch," she said, "join, I care not. At least he is man enough to fuck me."
"Fuck," said one of the other men, "you've got a filthy mouth on you."
"We all saw that," said the third, and the two of them laughed nervously, as if they were not quite sure they were allowed to. But Esmeralda threw her head back and laughed as well, louder than either of them.
"Some tongues were made to preach, or to sing," she said, eyes flashing green as she turned on them, each thrust harder now and winding tighter, pulsing pleasure into her though it was not enough, nowhere near enough. "Some were made to fuck."
The hand that had been caressing her throat slid up, and two the soldier with the moustache pressed two fingers past her lips. She sucked them in greedily, ran her tongue around them and bobbed her head, and saw his spit-slicked cock twitching at his groin. She let her eyes fluttered closed to lose herself to them, cock and hands and searching fingers, and finally felt the rush of something that might be a prelude to climax, a wet rather than a dry pleasure that was something more than simply the readying of her cunt to be fucked.
"Sacre madre," groaned the man buried in her. She locked her legs around him lest he pulled away, and felt the hot pulse as he came, still trying to thrust his twitching cock deeper into her. She could feel it spilling from her, hot and sticky on her thighs, but only when he slumped over her breathlessly did she release him and slide her mouth from the fingers it sucked, in the same moment.
Slipping one hand between her thighs, Esmeralda bought it up again sticky with come, and licked it from her fingers with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. Even if the men had not heard the footsteps in the corridor, so intent had they been on fucking her, she had. And what was there to hide? She had nothing left to lose, nothing more to sacrifice; the worst that she could see would me that the newcomer would stop their sport, and even then she could laugh at the thought that they would have to report it to Frollo and tell him of her indecencies.
She did not expect the man called Jean to pale and step away, trying to cover his cock with one hand. "C-captain!" he stammered.
For one fraction of a second she had the absurd thought that it was Phoebus, and that if there was any man she would not wish to see her like this, it would be him. But no, Phoebus was a traitor now as much as she was, and would have his own cell in this place. Though doubtless he would be spending his last hours rather differently than she was.
She turned to look, eyes falling upon a man with a captain's armour and a leader's bearing, with one soldier on each side of him and a shocked expression. There was a glitter of arousal in his eyes, though, and when he spoke his voice had a hoarseness to it.
"Who is this whore?" he said.
"Why captain," said Esmeralda, before one of the men could say something foolish, break the spell that she had woven with shining lips and heaving breasts and the musk of sex in the air. "Why do you think that I would demand payment?"
She could feel the trickle of seed down her thigh, white against the brown of her skin; her hair was sticking to her skin with sweat.
Strange, how luck could abandon her outside but be with her in this place. The lust in the captain's eyes grew, overcame his shock, and he strode over to grab her by the throat with one gauntleted hand. Her wits could not forgive her if she did not grab for his sword, but the soldiers around her grabbed her wrists to restrain her, and even as she pulled against their holds she gave a feral smile, full of teeth, to the man facing her.
"You are no prostitute, then, you say?"
"Or one who takes fuck instead of coin," she said, feeling the damp of his palm against her skin. She caught his eye, held it defiantly, and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. From the expression on his face, she coud see the exact moment when his lust won out against his duty, and he reached down to fumble at his hose in turn. She turned her gaze to the two other soldiers still in the doorway, looking uncertainly at each other. "Watch," she said, "join, I care not. At least he is man enough to fuck me."
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