by Alexa Quinn
As I work her pussy I sense him working her tits. Pressing them, squeezing them, his fingers tweaking one hard nipple fiercely as his mouth works the other.
Together we bring her to the very edge and then together we pull back. He begins to kiss the soft skin between her breasts, avoiding the sensitive mounds and their pink begging tips.
I pull my tongue away from her entrance and glide it so gently along her channel, avoiding her vagina, avoiding her clit.
She moans in frustration as the peak of her orgasm recedes instead of cresting.
“Please,” she begs us. “I want you. Please.”
I ignore her entreaties. I kiss her belly, dip my tongue into her navel. My hands stroke lazily up and down her inner thighs, keeping her arousal simmering but refusing to let it boil over.
“Please!” she begs more desperately. “Please, Uncle Karl. Please, Uncle Max.”
“What do you want?” Max asks her teasingly.
“I want to come,” she cries petulantly.
“How do you want to come?” he asks, playing the devil.
“With your mouth on my nipples, sucking me. With Uncle Karl fucking me with his tongue.”
“You didn’t ask nicely.”
“Please! Pretty please!”
She reaches a hand towards her clit. He grabs hold of it before she can touch herself.
“Naughty girl,” he chides.
I move aside as he flips her onto her back. He spanks her tender bottom swiftly three times.
“Yes!” she hisses, pressing her pussy mound into the cushions as if to stimulate her clit.
Max chuckles. “We’ve turned our little angel into a little minx.” He sounds approving.
He pulls the round cheeks of her ass apart to reveal the dusky cleft between them. He presses his thumb lightly against the bud of her anus.
She whimpers in delight and raises her bottom towards him.
“Naughty girl. You want Uncle Karl to fuck you there?”
“Yes!” she cries impatiently, almost sobbing in frustration. “Please just fuck me.”
He spanks her again, harder now, each slap leaving her bottom red.
“So naughty,” he says, his eyes gleaming both in delight and mild annoyance. “You’ve let Jake fuck you there already, haven’t you.”
“Yes!” she cries defiantly. “And it was so good!”
He grins at me, and I smirk back.
Our naughty angel has no idea how much we are going to punish her now. If she thinks this frustration is bad, I can’t wait to see her when we are done.
I go over to the side bar and bring back the bottle Max wants. He unstoppers it and puts it to his mouth. He takes a deep pull before handing it to me.
I take a couple of swallows, reveling in the rush of frenzied heat that sweeps over my tongue and throat. I can feel it deep in my belly, setting my insides alight.
This stuff is no mere alcohol. It is infused with Nashaa, a potion whose brewing technique is a closely guarded secret. It is damn expensive, and for good reason.
Max pulls the cheeks of her ass apart and I carefully spill a splash onto her anal bud. The liquid gathers in her cleft. She gasps at the sensation, and I know she is feeling its first gentle burn.
Max gives me a wicked grin, then he presses his thumb a half inch into her tight bud, opening it to let the liquid pour in.
A primal cry rips from her throat and her hips buck up off the cushion.
Max gives a groan of delight and holds her down against the cushion. She gasps and pants, her buttocks clenching as she moans and writhes, unable to understand the sensation.
He gives her only a few moments before he prises her ass cheeks apart again. I dribble a generous amount onto her ass. Enough to run down her cleft and spill onto her pussy.
“Oh my god!” she cries out. “What is that?”
He holds her pussy lips apart so I can douse her inner channel.
“Oh God!” Oh God!” she keens.
Her hips grind against his hand, desperate for something she can’t understand. She needs to come, badly. She wants him to touch her.
He does. But only to rub the liquid into her most sensitive flesh. She lets out a long moan and her toes curl at the intensity of the sensation.
I know when he has spread a few drops over her clit because she gives a shriek of pleasure and bucks against his hand.
“No,” he chides her, pulling it away.
We both know full well what she is feeling. The Nashaa gives an intense burn, the sort that sets your flesh alight, but not enough to fully satisfy. It is like being on the intense edge of orgasm but not being able to crest it. We both know it will already be driving her crazy.
“Please, fuck me,” she pants. “Please fuck me, Uncle Karl.”
Max flips her over to her back and she reaches for him eagerly.
“No,” he chides her. “Not yet, naughty baby.”
He holds her thighs apart. She complies, desperate for his cock. Little does she know he is opening it for me.
He presses her knees up and back, holding her in place. I take another sip of the Nashaa, and then I pull open her inner pussy lips, revealing the small entrance of her vagina. I tip a generous amount inside.
She squeals.
She is so tight that most sloshes out, but enough gets in for her to begin a frenzied moaning. Her hips writhe, as if she is being fucked by an invisible cock. Being fucked by the Nashaa.
Immediately I am jealous. I want my cock there, inside her tight channel, working her to her orgasm.
Max nuzzles lightly at her sensitive nipples, a signal for me to begin working her again.
I bury my mouth between her legs and sip at the Nashaa in her vagina. I dip my tongue in and out, suckling her, but keeping my touches light. Any little thing could tip her over the edge now and we don’t want that yet. She is going to have to wait until we are good and ready.
Max sloshes some Nashaa over her sensitive little nips and she gives a hoarse cry, which gets louder when he begins to lick her, massaging it in with gentle sweeps of his tongue.
“Please let me come,” she begs.
“No,” he tells her firmly.
“Please! I love you, Uncle Max, Uncle Karl. I need it. Please.”
My heart soars at her words. My tongue stills between her legs. She is babbling in her need, and yet her admission has made me desperate to give her anything in my power. I want to let her come. But Max would never forgive me.
“How badly do you want to come, sweet baby?” he says.
“So badly. Please!”
I pull my head out from between her thighs to give him an enquiring glance. This must surely be enough. She is desperate now, her entire pussy flushed red. Even her belly and ass cheeks are reddened with intense arousal.
He shakes his head.
She lets out a panting gasp of disappointment. “Please,” she begs.
And then she does the one thing neither of us expected.
She reaches to her face and peels away her mask. Her face is straight out of our wildest dreams.
Carla!
“Please, Uncle Karl, Uncle Max. I need it.”
Both of us stare at her, stunned. It is our Carla! The sweet angel we have dreamed of and lusted after for years. The only girl we never dared touch. She is naked before us, begin us to make her come.
Max growls an epithet under his voice.
Tears are streaming down her cheeks, of lust and desperate need. “Please, I want you both. I need you.”
“Sweetheart,” I murmur, my head reeling.
Max lets out a roar of undisguised emotion. His mouth descends on hers for a desperate kiss. She wraps her arms around his muscled neck, eagerly opening her moth for his thrusting tongue.
My cock wants to be in her, but not yet, not like this. I don’t want her so awash in Nashaa that my Clara doesn’t even know it is me inside her. So I give her my mouth with un-abandoned intensity.
I sucked her l
ittle clit, pulling it again and again between my lips. And then when she is on the very edge, I plunge my tongue deep into her little hole and press a finger hard onto her clit.
She comes with a muffled scream, her pussy spasming sweetly around my thrusting tongue. I lap at her until her hips stop jerking and her breathing eases.
I kiss my way back up her belly, and Max pulls away from her lips to let me claim her mouth.
“Sweetheart,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell us it was you?”
I nuzzle her lips gently, and then let her answer.
“I don’t know,” she says shyly. “Are you mad?”
“Never,” I say intensely, smoothing back strands of her damp hair that are clinging to her forehead.
“You’re really not?”
“Honey, we could never be mad at you. You have no idea how long we’ve wanted you.”
“Will Uncles Jake and Anthony be mad?”
Max lets out a harsh laugh. “The hell they will. I can’t wait to show them it was you all along.”
Her already pink cheeks flush a deeper hue. Her eyes glow up at both of us.
“You think they’ll like it?”
“Absolutely,” I say, beaming at her shyness.
I cannot help but claim her soft pink lips in another tender kiss.
When I break away, she still looks hesitant.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Dad will be mad. You said he is coming tomorrow.”
“Not now, he isn’t” says Max.
His hands are at her delicate waist. He is still gazing at her intensely like he cannot believe she is here with us.
“But what will you tell him?”
“I’ll tell him to keep busy with his succubae is what. He won’t want to leave those two anyway.”
She beams in relief. “Thank you!”
He indulges himself in kissing her deeply for a few minutes. I run my hands over her body, newly marveling at it now that I know she is our Clara.
Then he sweeps her up into his arms to take her to his room.
The three of us shower together, Max and I barely able to keep our hands and mouths off her. She is a hungry little minx, and it is the most we can do to stop her from fastening her mouth over our still hard cocks.
If we take her now we will exhaust her before the other two get back, and they will be mad about it.
We want them to see us take her in the full knowledge it is our Clara, not just some fantasy girl who looks like her.
Afterwards, we dry her off tenderly and dress her in a silken gold camisole and panties that are so sheer that they barely cover her.
Max phones Jake and Anthony, telling them we have a surprise for them. We have a snack in the lounge while we wait impatiently.
Clara’s sweet blushes and frequent shy glances towards to the door make it incredibly hard for both of us to keep our hands off her. Our pants do nothing to hide our erections.
I decide I can’t resist playing while we wait.
I pull her onto my lap to kiss and fondle her. She grinds her silk clad pussy over my hard bulge while Max watches through narrowed eyes. His hands dip frequently into her ass crack. We finally hear the front door open.
She sits up straight on my lap, biting her lip in anticipation. Her sweet expression is eager and hopeful. I want to see the guys’ faces when they spot her, but I cannot bear to tear my eyes away from her unmasked face.
And so I see her shock immediately. It is swiftly replaced by horror.
With a strangled cry she leaps up off my lap and bolts away.
Chapter 17
MAX
The second I see John standing in the doorway an unexpected fury rushes through me. The intensity of it almost sends me into instinctive transformation into my wolf form.
It takes an immense effort to hold it off. This primal instinct to protect what is mine happens rarely with me. It is the thought of Clara’s reaction if I destroyed her father that gives me the sheer force of will needed to stay in human form. My chest heaves with the effort, and my nerves burn with pain.
In those precious seconds Clara races from the room. I want to go after her, to comfort her and reassure her all will be well. But I can’t leave Karl here to deal with her furious father. John won’t listen to Karl.
Hell, I don’t know if he will listen to me.
John stands frozen some distance away. It takes some moments for his mind to compute what he has just seen. The struggle shows on his face as he tries to reconcile the fact he just saw his barely-clad daughter her, and us with our hands all over her.
And then it hits him.
“What the hell is going on!” he screams.
“Calm down, John,” I say.
“That was Clara. Was that Clara?” he roars.
I shoot Karl a glance that tells him to go after her, to check if she is alright.
When Karl sets off in the direction she went, John charges at him. “Oh no, you don’t. Not my daughter!”
I race to intercept him.
“What the fuck?” John swears.
“She needs me. She’s upset,” Karl tells him.
“You’re damn right she is upset. What the fuck was she doing?”
Neither of us answer him.
This seems to infuriate him, like he expected us to deny it.
“Did you fuck my daughter?” he shouts.
Again, we don’t answer. The words will only make it worse.
“Jesus, tell me you didn’t.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“That friend of hers called me. Her roommate.”
“What did she say?”
“That you were all fucking my daughter is what. Jesus, I didn’t believe it. But it’s fucking true!”
The last comes out half roar, half wail of despair.
He sits down suddenly, as if his knees have given way. His face full of utter despair.
I can tell this is going to take a lot more than just words. I go to get him something appropriate from the bar.
Chapter 18
CLARA
When I get to my room I snatch up my holdall from the bed.
My dad saw me dressed like this, in this see-through camisole and panties, grinding on Uncle Karl’s lap.
He knows.
My dad knows.
There is nowhere I can run to. Nowhere will take me away from the fact that he knows.
I drop the holdall with a thunk and curl up on my bed, my arms wrapped around me knees. I feel helpless. I feel like I am going to be sick.
Oh God, what have I done?
I want to cry but my face feels strangely numb. I want my friends. I want Lola. She could help me find some way to deal with this.
But I don’t deserve her help.
Finding my damn phone would do no good anyway. Heck, I’d been shocked it had been able to receive a call from within Otherworld. I certainly don’t expect it to be able to make a call out to our world.
Of course Roxy took it. Stupid of me not to have realized earlier. She must have called my dad. It is just the sort of thing she would do. She’s told me often enough that no one fucks with her. This is why.
I bury my head in my knees, wishing I could take back the last few days.
No, not all of them. Just the bad bits, these last awful few minutes especially.
Because the rest of it had been spectacular. Beyond my wildest dreams.
Roxy was right after all. What happened in Otherworld will stay in Otherworld. I have no doubt that Uncle’s Max, Karl, Jake and Anthony will choose their friendship with dad and their business over me.
This could only ever have lasted as some sort of sordid secret. Not out in the open.
Roxy was right when she said I was just a passing delight for them.
It’s just that for a tiny while earlier they had seemed so happy to know it was me. They had not rejected me. But none of us had expected reality to rush in like that.
Remembering the fur
ious look on Uncle Max’s face, I shudder.
