Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace

by Hill, Joey W.

  “I think she wants to play too,” Lyda said, breathless. “Come here, Gen.”

  She guided Gen to straddle Noah, Gen facing Lyda. Bringing her down on the stool in front of her, Lyda cupped Gen’s ass in both hands and directed Gen’s legs over her own. Then she had Gen slide forward so her pussy came flush against Lyda’s lower abdomen, her inner thighs against Lyda’s sides, her heels pressed to the outside of Noah’s legs. They were close enough Lyda’s breasts dragged a teasing course up Gen’s stomach, then pressed into her own bosom. Anything Gen might say was caught in a gasp.

  Nudging her head back, Lyda kissed her throat, then bit. Gen wound her arms around Lyda’s shoulders, fingers tangling in her hair. Lyda’s arms bound low around her back and hips in answer, holding her close, face pressed into her throat. “That’s my girl. Hang on for the ride.”

  Another rise and fall, Lyda moving against Gen’s body, lifting her with the movement. Gen had a hysterical, lust-induced vision of a carousel horse, only this was a much different ride from when she was a child. As Lyda lifted and lowered her body, Gen’s clit rubbed against her tight lower abdomen, her legs locking around Lyda’s body to increase the sensation. Lyda’s nipples slid across Gen’s curves, then came in direct contact with her own taut peaks. It wrenched a moan from her throat. Lyda murmured against her, licked and bit her throat again. Then she closed her mouth on one of those aching points.

  Gen made another throaty sound as Lyda suckled her, nipped sharp enough to make her jump, her pussy cream. She’d be marking Lyda with that fluid. It would roll down, join the lubrication Lyda and Noah were producing from their own arousal. She realized then that Lyda didn’t have him using a condom. Gen envied that direct contact.

  As Lyda kept working herself on his cock, her breath a rush against Gen’s throat, Noah’s hands slid onto Gen’s hips, overlapping Lyda’s.

  “I can take both of you,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “Let me feel her against me, Mistress. If that pleases you.”

  “You please me, Noah. You both do.” Lyda eased Gen back to her feet. Gen moved the stool and then, at Lyda’s direction, she sank back down. The brief brush of her wet pussy again Lyda’s stomach made her shudder, but Lyda had a steadying hold on her, bringing her all the way back down so her ass rested on Noah’s stomach, her legs curved around Lyda and heels resting behind her, between Noah’s spread knees.

  She noticed Lyda kept a firm grip on her ass. “Bet you wish you could rub your pussy against that nice washboard of his, don’t you, Gen? I’ll let you come that way sometime. Would you like that?”

  She nodded, then remembered. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Lean back and arch your body toward me.”

  She felt Noah’s hands curve around her upper arms, so she could rely on his strength to follow his Mistress’s direction. Whenever he touched her, she trusted him with anything. She was getting there with Lyda as well. Dropping her head back, knowing her hair would be brushing his chest and throat, it made her smile when he caught a strand in his mouth and tugged. Then her gaze went back to Lyda to see what her Mistress would demand next, and more serious emotions took over once more.

  Lyda was fucking him again. Her toned thighs flexed as she took Noah deep, squeezed him as she rose almost to the glans, then went back down, her cunt making that enthralling sucking noise. Gen wanted to put her hand to her own pussy, stroke. Noah’s thighs trembled, hips jerking even harder at his Mistress’s order of self-restraint. With him making those small bucks of motion under her, feeling the flex of his fingers on her biceps, it was clear to Gen how much he wanted to thrust up, fuck his Mistress as intensely as she was doing to him. Gen was ready to beg for all of them.

  Lyda put her hands on Gen’s hips then. “How flexible are you? Tell me if this is too much of a strain.”

  She eased Gen up into more of an arch, her thigh muscles elongating as Lyda pushed her into a position where her pussy was tilted up at a higher angle, more accessible to her Mistress. This time when Lyda slid up Noah’s cock, her clit brushed Gen’s, and Gen understood what she was wanting. The searing pleasure of it helped her be even more flexible.

  She arched further, and, despite the strain, bumped against Lyda’s pussy again. Noah helped, pushing her even closer, and Gen made a soft cry.

  “Give us both a lap dance,” Lyda’s voice was thick, her eyes glowing. “Rub your ass against his stomach, then bring your pussy back to mime.”

  She did it, orbiting between those two points. Noah’s hands again flexed on her in convulsive response as Lyda closed in on her own climax. Gen couldn’t create enough friction to reach climax herself, but she realized she was flying simply from servicing both of them. Her climax wasn’t the point. The clock chimed again.

  “I’m yours, Mistress.”

  “All of you? Cunt, heart? Mind?”

  “Yes,” Gen gasped.

  Watching her Mistress’s face, Gen felt a bond with Noah, knowing they were both working to give Lyda a climax as intense as what she’d given them. Beyond that, they had a selfish shared desire, wanting their Mistress to come, knowing they were the cause. For just an instance, she imagined herself with a tattoo that said “Yours” as well, only she had no confusion about exactly who she would mean.

  Lyda moved her hands from Gen’s hips to her breasts, squeezing them, then slid down again, scraping her nails over Gen’s clit before she cupped Gen’s buttocks once more, ensuring more prolonged contact between their centers.

  “There you go. Work that little pussy against me. Let me feel how much you want to be fucked again.”

  Gen ground against her, teased Noah with the slide of her buttocks over his stomach. Another climax finally started to unfurl inside her.

  “Ah…that’s it…” Lyda bounced hard on Noah’s loins, her breasts quivering, fingers bruising Gen’s flesh where she held onto her. A flush swept up from her loins and across her sternum and throat. “Now, Noah…”

  At the strangled cry, Noah thrust up, deep and hard. It detonated Gen’s own climax. Lyda kept rising and falling, fucking Noah, teasing them both with how damn good she felt. She was a visual feast, every movement, the quiver of her breasts, the lengths of her thighs, the column of her throat…

  “Mistress…” Gen made a helpless noise and Lyda seized her nape, bringing her up to her mouth and pulling her from Noah’s hands. Noah shifted his grip down to Gen’s hips, giving her the stability she needed as she and Lyda slid off that cliff together, moaning into one another’s mouths, a feeling that intensified as Noah let go as well, hips jacking up deeper into his Mistress, the vibration sending an additional shot of response through Gen. It was like everything each one of them did made it more intense for all of them.

  It was forever before they slowed. When they finally came to a halt, Lyda had her arms curled around Gen, was putting a teasing kiss at the corner of her mouth. Noah’s fingers were embedded in Gen’s hips, and she never wanted him to let go. Lyda insisted, though, having other demands to make of them.

  Lyda turned Gen around, had her straddle Noah facing him this time, standing on her knees. His hands slid up Gen’s thighs, eyes dark and mouth a sensual firm line as he spoke past her to Lyda. “I like it when you’re both sitting on me, Mistress.

  “We’d eventually squash your internal organs,” Lyda said, amused. “You’d die.”

  “What a way to go. Under two gorgeous, naked women.” He smiled then, lazy and wicked. With no warning at all, he jackknifed up, rolled and pinned both women, catching Lyda with a leg thrown over her thigh, an arm around her waist. Gen was sandwiched between as he gathered them close. Lyda propped her head on her hand, ignoring the tangle of limbs, though her hand fell on his shoulder, caressing it.

  “You don’t get off me, boy, I’ll use a zip tie on your ball sac.”

  Instead, he shifted next to Gen to nuzzle Lyda’s breast, then put his lips over it, began to suckle. Lyda’s other breast was right in front of Gen. Noah’s hand was on her
back, exerting a slight pressure, an encouraging and clear message.

  It was a sweet pleasure, hearing their Mistress sigh as they each suckled a nipple. Lyda stroked them both, making a little hum as they savored the taste of her, of having their Mistress beneath them. Still in control, but giving them the rare gift of her trust.

  As Gen shifted to her throat, tasting her pulse, Noah was moving down Lyda’s body. The two of them were devouring her, and Lyda was letting them.

  Noah kissed his way over Lyda’s abdomen, down her side, working his way to her thighs. Gen lifted up over her, hands braced on either side of Lyda’s shoulders. When Lyda’s lips parted, eyes glazing, a glance back showed Noah now had his mouth between her legs. A faint hum told Gen he’d engaged that blissful tongue stud.

  Gen bent down and covered Lyda’s mouth with hers, tongue delving deep. Endless. How many times had they come tonight? Shouldn’t they all be exhausted now? But no, it was as if they wanted to explore how many different ways they could bring one another pleasure, how many different crevices and expanses of flesh they could taste with tongue and lips. Lyda broke the kiss, but only so she could push Gen further up, and latch onto her breast anew, take a hard pull as Noah worked between his Mistress’s legs. Gen gasped, tightening her fingers in Lyda’s hair, looking back to watch. He’d be worrying her clit between her teeth, plunging his tongue deep between those wet folds. He had his hands beneath Lyda’s thighs, and her ankles were locked over his back.

  Gen slid an exploratory hand down, played between Noah’s lips and tongue, over Lyda’s clit and labia. The woman nipped the underside of her breast, a rebuke, but one that didn’t stop Gen from continuing to flick at her clit, loving the jerks of her hips, her reaction to the jolts of sensation.

  “Are you creaming for us, Mistress?” she whispered, looking down to meet Lyda’s silver eyes. The response she got was being pulled down for another hard kiss, Lyda gripping her nape as Noah took her over the edge to a moaning, twisting, tornado climax, her hands digging into Gen as it happened. Noah gripped her spread thighs, his knuckles pressing into Gen’s legs as he held Lyda still to maximize her pleasure.

  When Lyda rolled down that peak, they were all breathing hard. Gen thought it was all incredible, but this last time had been special. Three people enjoying one another, the reins tangled in all their hands, free form, incredibly pleasurable.

  Noah sat back on his heels, looking down at both of them. Gen had shifted to her hip, curled up against Lyda’s side, held in her arm span. Reaching out, Gen slid a hand down his side. Noah caught it, lifted her knuckles to his mouth. When she brought them back to herself, she could smell Lyda’s musk from his lips. Lyda’s hand tightened in her hair then.

  “He handled the climax, you handle the cleanup, rabbit. You wanted to know how wet I was for you. Go find out up close and personal.”

  Noah moved out of the way and Gen was pushed between Lyda’s legs. She did exactly as bade, tenderly licking the crevices, collecting the climax, savoring the taste and scent. Lyda made a pleased murmur. When Gen lifted her head, she saw Noah was stretched out behind Lyda, his head propped on his fist again while Lyda had her head on his thigh, watching Gen as Noah stroked her hair with his other hand. She looked sleepy, their Mistress.

  “Time for bed,” Lyda said, confirming it. Noah eased her head to the floor and rose. He switched off the lamp and then, to Gen’s surprise—and maybe Lyda’s—he bent and picked Lyda up, carrying her to the bed. Lyda linked her arms around his neck, and held when he lowered her there. He stayed close, not pulling back until she brushed a kiss over his mouth and let him go.

  “Gen,” she said. “Come to me.”

  Gen slid into Lyda’s embrace. Then, another surprise, Lyda brought Noah into the mix. He slid in behind Lyda, the two of them holding onto their Mistress in a new tangle of limbs, mouths close enough to brush lips, breath warm against flesh.

  “Sleep,” Lyda ordered. “Everyone. I won’t be able to function tomorrow if I’ve spent the night being fucked to death. Or fucking my pets to death.”

  Too late. Gen felt like a limp noodle. She hoped feeling returned to her extremities soon. Aspirin was going to be in order for muscles that hadn’t been used since…ever.

  “Noah.” Lyda’s profile was a silhouette in the darkened bedroom as she looked behind her. “You’ll clean up that mess in my guest house tomorrow. And that note doesn’t exist. If you forget that, I’ll take a strip off your hide.”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  Quiet descended. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness thrown by the nightlight by the dresser, Gen could tell Noah was staring into the darkness over Lyda’s head with a look she didn’t like at all.

  Gen curved her hand over his forearm, draped over Lyda’s side. A little bite with her nails attracted his attention. “Stay with us,” she mouthed. She meant all of it. Not just his person, but everything, his mind, his heart…his soul.

  A look of resignation crossed his face, but he nodded. “I want to,” he murmured. “But it’s not about what I want.”

  Lyda said nothing, her eyes closed. But her hand tightened on Gen’s, a silent message.

  Leave it alone. For now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gen had never been to Gatlinburg. As they wound along the scenic highway that offered panoramic views of the Great Smoky Mountains, Gen coaxed them into stopping on the pull-off lanes more than once so she could gape and snap a few pictures with her phone, even though it wouldn’t capture how awe-inspiring it was.

  Then she saw a chainsaw carver who had rows of wooden bears set up on the roadside. “I want one,” she pronounced. Noah grinned and Lyda rolled her eyes, but they stopped. And after a critical look at the craftsmanship, Lyda had bought a couple herself. She even talked to the artist about supplying wholesale to the nursery.

  Gen earned a speculative look from Lyda when she decided against buying one, but the smallest bear offered was eighty dollars. It would cut too deeply into her vacation budget. She told them she’d decided having a picture of one was better and snapped a quick shot before getting back into the car.

  They’d left Tampa before dawn. Lyda had taken the backseat, spreading out her paperwork and balancing her laptop on her knees. When she started muttering to herself in a way Gen recognized from Marguerite’s adversarial relationship with her own accounting software, Gen began asking questions. Before long, the computer had been transferred to her lap and she was helping Lyda catch up with her books, to the woman’s obvious relief.

  “Do you do this for Marguerite too?” Lyda asked. “If she does, I hope she pays you well for it.”

  “I do,” Gen said, with no little pride. “She used to do it, and now she trusts me with pretty much all of it. I even did her taxes last year. I don’t have a degree yet, but—”

  “You should hire out your services,” Lyda said bluntly. “I know at least five other businesses who’d love to have someone handle their books rather than doing it themselves. If you ever want to hang out your own shingle, let me know.”

  “Oh, well… I love working at Tea Leaves, but I can always use more money.” She figured she could do it at night, or on her days not working at Tea Leaves.

  Lyda frowned. “Doesn’t Marguerite pay you enough?”

  “Absolutely,” Gen said hastily, horrified at the vision of Lyda deriding Marguerite about her pay scale. “But there’s only so much you can reasonably pay someone to wait tables and run a counter in a tea shop, given the profit margins. I love it there, though, and I don’t want to leave.”

  “You’re not a big spender, Gen. Do you have a lot of fixed costs?”

  “No.” When Lyda continued to stare at her, and she felt Noah glance her way, Gen bit back a sigh. She could say she didn’t want to talk about it, but they were getting to the point it was best to put certain things on the table. “I’m in debt, thanks to my second husband. I’ve paid off a lot of it. In another year, I’ll be clear, but getting clear soon
er would be great. So if you’re serious about those businesses, I’ll be thrilled.”

  “I’m surprised Marguerite didn’t loan you the money to get out from under all that.” This time, there was no reproof in the tone, at least not toward Marguerite. Which told Gen that Lyda knew M enough to know she would have offered.

  “I wanted to fix it myself. This is my private business.”

  “Because it makes you ashamed? Sounds to me like you should be proud as hell about it.” Lyda leaned between the seats, bracing her hand on Noah’s headrest. “Plenty of people make mistakes and get into a hole, and look for everyone else to bail them out. Government, family, friends. You picked up your own shovel, even when that hole wasn’t all your doing.”

  Gen set her jaw. “Yes. I did.”

  “Then don’t let questions about it embarrass you.”

  She sat back. Noah gave Gen a wink and squeezed her hand. “We better stop for gas,” he said. “And I need a snack.”

  “When do you not?” Lyda said dryly.

  “I need a restroom break,” Gen added quickly, earning a conspiratorial grin from Noah. Truth, she could use a snack as well. When they pulled into the station, she asked her two companions if she could bring them anything from inside the store. Noah called out a request from the pump to bring him Cheetos and a Dr Pepper. Lyda was quick to lean out the window and correct him, telling Gen to bring him a bottle of water and a granola bar. Noah made a gagging noise that had Gen grinning.

  Lyda rolled her eyes. “Fine, then. Bring him that junk. When he becomes a diabetic, I’ll get a chance at needle play. I’m sure you can inject insulin into someone’s privates.”

  “Cheetos and a bottle of water,” he compromised, crossing his eyes. Gen laughed at both of them. At the convenience store doorway, she stopped to look back. Noah had the gas pumping, but apparently had decided to prove just how healthy he was. He was standing in front of Lyda’s window, doing a stripper dance, gyrating his hips and then turning to rotate his very fine ass in a way that had the woman pumping gas behind them gawping. Lyda looked toward Gen, and rolled her eyes again. “Get his damn Dr Pepper and Cheetos before I strap him to the top of the car,” she called out the window. But Gen saw her reach through the other window, give him a quick chest stroke and admonishing flick, gestures of affection.