Forbidden Reading

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Forbidden Reading Page 12

by Lisette Ashton


  Panic rose in her chest as the drunkenly robust music began to pitch and yaw.

  A tall figure stepped from the crowd; she was both relieved and disconcerted to recognise Sartine lurking behind the mask; and then he was leading her around the floor in a fast-paced waltz.

  ‘I wanted the pleasure of the first dance with you,’ he murmured as he kissed her neck. ‘You look absolutely radiant.’

  She released a sigh of relief as they danced together. His body pressed close to hers, exciting her with the intimate contact and making her shiver with a thrill of exhibitionism. Bemused and avaricious smiles glinted from beneath the masks that they passed at the edge of the floor. Justine realised she was still the centre of attention but, with Sartine’s hands around her body, and his awakening erection pressing against her stomach, her confidence swelled and she no longer shrank from the interest of the strangers. The worries about when she had been transformed from librarian to libertine were equally easy to set aside.

  ‘You honour me with this party,’ she said earnestly. ‘Marie tells me that you worked for hours to perfect every detail. Thank you for taking so much time on my behalf.’

  The hand on her waist inched slowly downwards as Sartine waltzed Justine around the room. His thickening erection pressed more urgently against her and she could feel the familiar heat of arousal smouldering in her loins. Her bare breasts rubbed against his smooth manly chest and she was stung by a glorious charge of excitement. The music continued to sway at a helterskelter pace – its majestic melodies soaring and swooping – while Sartine hurried her around the dance floor with meticulous grace.

  ‘You honour our party with your beauty,’ Sartine replied. The tips of his fingers teased against her cleft. He was cupping one buttock but he had managed to get his fingers daringly close to her pussy lips. His nails grazed against the dark curls that covered her labia. The tingle of excitement he provoked was sweet enough to make Justine shiver in his embrace. ‘Is everything to your satisfaction?’

  She thought of assuring him that everything was sensational and then decided to voice the only true reservation that still preyed on her thoughts. ‘Why are all your guests, except for me, wearing masks?’

  He chuckled. ‘There are several reasons for the masks,’ he explained carefully. Each step of the waltz made their bodies merge together as though they were involved in a greater intimacy than merely dancing. Justine knew her excitement was in danger of becoming climactic from the teasing steps of the waltz and she forced herself to listen to his response. ‘Some of my guests are celebrities,’ Sartine explained, ‘and they wish to avoid the media attention of being discovered at a party like this. The same applies to many of the respected professionals who would face embarrassment if caught participating in anything so bacchanal as tonight’s activities. The masks are also a useful device for identifying you. Everyone here is expected to enjoy themselves with you and treat you to the pleasure of their own particular speciality. If they know you are the only one not wearing a mask, they will have no problems singling you out when they want to inflame your passion.’

  She faltered in her steps and glanced at the endless circle of faces surrounding them. The thought that everyone in the room was expected to excite her and enjoy her made Justine suddenly queasy. There were so many people – all of them beautiful and each arousing enough to fulfil at least one of her myriad private fantasies – that she worried she might not be up to the challenge of proving herself worthy of Sartine’s standards.

  ‘When this waltz has finished they will have their way with you,’ he explained. His fingertips had reached the wet split of her sex and the echo of his words trembled through his touch. As they danced smoothly around the floor Sartine continued to tease the oily lips of her pussy. His touch was light and effortless and made her want to weep from the sudden surge of desire he evoked. The stiffness of his erection was now unbearable against her stomach and she wished he would use it to satisfy the urges he had awoken in her loins. Panting softly and pressing herself more firmly into his embrace, she kissed him as they danced.

  Sartine teased her lips with his tongue for a moment before pulling away. Smiling lewdly down at her, still leading her through the waltz as though he had been born for the dance, he sighed, ‘I am a little worried that you might not be the right person to own La Coste. Is there anything you can say to put my fears at ease?’

  The panic his words inspired was almost enough to quell her excitement. Justine’s heart quickened and she clutched him more tightly. Her thoughts were no longer fixed on the fingers insinuating themselves between her pussy lips. She swallowed twice as she struggled to find an answer, and then said, ‘I’m not sure I could say anything to put your fears at ease. You’re assessing how readily I give myself to pleasure, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Didn’t I give myself wholly to pleasure in your penthouse this afternoon? Aren’t I giving myself to this glorious party that you’ve organised this evening?’

  ‘You proved yourself worthy in the penthouse,’ Sartine agreed. ‘But you seemed very anxious to leave there at the earliest opportunity. That’s hardly the behaviour I would expect from a committed hedonist.’

  She nodded, her gaze never leaving his eyes. ‘I was anxious to get out of your penthouse,’ she agreed. ‘I’d experienced all the pleasures I could envision and I wanted to get back to the woman in my room. I spent the remainder of the afternoon listening to her read de Sade while I licked her pussy. If you want to kiss me again, I imagine you’ll taste that her wetness is still on my lips.’

  He drew a deep breath and his smile was broad with approval. ‘That would certainly indicate a degree of worthiness,’ he conceded. ‘That response might just be enough to help me make my decision, although I’m sure you won’t mind if I ask further questions as the evening progresses.’

  ‘Ask whatever you want.’

  He nodded and brought the dance to an abrupt halt.

  Justine considered him uncertainly, only dimly realising that the music had also been brought to a conclusion. His fingers remained at her cleft and the patter of polite applause rolled around them as the attendant guests showed their approval for the spectacle they had provided with the dance.

  ‘I will be watching you closely for the remainder of this evening,’ Sartine explained. ‘I will have one or two more questions to help assuage the last of my doubts. But, for now, I want you to enjoy the party.’

  He stepped away from her and she suddenly found herself alone and the centre of attention to a room full of masked and naked strangers. The mild arousal she had been enjoying transformed itself into a dire unease and Justine turned from one partially disguised face to the other as she tried to assess the group’s mood. So many of the smiles were ambiguous it was difficult to tell whether she was looking at speculative interest or manic appreciation. Stepping back, continually turning, she realised they were inching closer and bearing down on her.

  Her nervousness turned to panic.

  Hands fell on her arms, shoulders, waist and breasts.

  Mouths touched her cheeks and nipples. Fingers stole against her backside, between her buttocks, then against her sex. Tongues lapped at her bare flesh. Beautiful faces and handsome bodies invaded her personal space and pressed intolerably close. The glitter of exquisitely crafted masks caused dizzying sparkles to blind her momentarily. She caught glimpses of hard cocks, splayed pussies and bared breasts – one memorably pierced by a shiny bolt of gold – and then there were too many of them for her to see any one detail. The scent of bare skin; the fragrance of perfume, perspiration and arousal; it was all too much to accept and understand as the crowd descended. With her emotions swaying from dismay to delight Justine felt sure she would swoon from the sensory overload. Every accessible pore of her body was being stroked, touched or caressed. She briefly fretted that she was going to lose her footing, and then that was no longer a consideration as she was swept from the floor by
a pair of strong and masculine arms.

  A flurry of unknown hands stroked and caressed her body. She was touched in the most intimate places and her excitement rose to the same pitch as her apprehension. Someone kissed her; one nipple was teased between a finger and thumb; something rounded slipped against the lips of her sex; a daring intruder tested the resistance at her anus.

  Away from the grunting sighs of those around her, Justine could hear that the string quartet had begun another piece. She couldn’t place the melody or the composer but she recognised the music had the same disorienting quality as the Khachaturian waltz to which she had danced with Sartine. Combined with her arousal and excitement, she began to grow dizzy as the crowd carried her around the room.

  ‘…see you kiss her pussy…’

  ‘…I’ll have her…’

  ‘…want to lick every…’

  ‘…need to taste that…’

  ‘…fuck her good and hard…’

  The voices blurred until she couldn’t tell if they were male or female; antagonistic or extremely aroused. She realised distantly that her body was now being carried in a specific direction but that observation did little to help her understand the situation or guess how it would now develop. Warm fingers slid easily in and out of her sex while the hands at her breast excited her hard nipples to an unbearable degree. Someone persistent had teased through the tight muscle of her anus and the blossom of expectation left Justine giddy with the need to climax. She tried turning to see who was teasing her with such forbidden intimacy but so many mouths hungered to press against her face that she couldn’t differentiate one person from another or see beyond the immediate forest of masked eyes.

  ‘This way.’

  Sartine’s voice carried over the babble of the crowd.

  ‘I want her over here.’

  Justine realised she was being herded toward the sound of the Captain and heard the clatter of furniture being moved and the crowd parting before her. She only understood what was happening when hands went beneath her buttocks, someone pulled the cheeks of her backside apart, and she was eased into a sitting position. Before she had a chance to think that the guests might have finished having their fun with her bare body, she was deposited on the lap of a stranger.

  He was blessed with a deliciously large and hard erection.

  The hands that held and positioned her now stretched at the skin of her buttocks until she realised where the erection was going to go. A moment of doubt tightened her stomach – she held her breath and braced herself for the pain – and then the length was sliding into her rear. Justine caught a breath, delighted by the penetration and shocked by the easy way her body was accepting the crude entry. The muscle of her sphincter was stretched to bursting point – a spasm of pain threatened to eclipse the joy of being filled – and then the first burgeoning waves of a climax scorched through her body.

  There was no time to savour the glory of the moment. Her heartbeat raced; another pair of strangers kissed her; fingers teased against her buttocks and sex; the shaft ploughed deep into her rear. Someone suckled against her left breast while a crueller mouth nibbled at her right. The constant escalation of pleasure threatened to be more than she could bear. Roughly her thighs were pulled further apart and the weight of a second erection pushed at her cleft.

  Justine gasped for air.

  She wondered if she should tell the man in front of her that she was already being taken from behind. The etiquette of how to deport oneself at an orgy was something she had never previously encountered but her reservations never made it to her lips. He bucked his hips forward, pushed himself inside, and she was thrilled as his shaft burrowed deep into her pussy. Impaled on two organs, able to feel both of them as they slid inside her and squashed together, Justine knew a scream of delight was building in her chest. The masks continued to hide the identity of those all around her – she had no way of knowing which man was buried in her sex and no desire to see the face of the one pushing into her rear – but their anonymity only added to the exotic mystery of the occasion. Hands and mouths still clawed at her as she grunted her way toward orgasm. With a breathless certainty Justine knew, when the climax did come, it was going to strike her with a furious power. She clenched her jaw and steeled herself in preparation for its impact.

  A pair of erections pushed at her mouth.

  They came at her from the left and the right and she briefly wondered if the excess of pleasure had inspired double vision. After blinking and shaking her head she understood what was expected of her and wanted to fall on both shafts with animalistic hunger. There was a moment’s hesitation as she tried to decide which cock she should accept in her mouth first. But there was never any consideration given to the idea that she could refuse either. The dark dusky purple length and the slender red shaft hovered enticingly in front of her lips. They were both leaking with arousal, a glisten of excitement glossed one glans while the other stared at her from behind a pearl-like bead of semen.

  Justine knew she had already given herself to the hedonism of the evening but she was determined to bask in every joy available. That decision hadn’t been made so she could meet the criteria of Sartine’s standards or maintain a façade that would ultimately benefit Mrs Weiss. She wanted to enjoy every pleasure at her disposal this evening because she knew an opportunity like this would never make itself available ever again. Opening her mouth wide, allowing Sartine’s guests to dictate the limitations, she moved herself forward and allowed both erections to punch between her lips. Smiling up at the masked men above her, Justine accepted their cocks onto her tongue.

  The taste of pre-come; the scents of sweat and arousal; the sensation of being used by four erections; the sounds of the crowd hungrily clamouring to be near her; the sight of so much exquisite nudity; all invaded her senses. Justine hadn’t known she could climax with such ease and, when the first orgasm was wrung from her body, she was as shocked by its speed and power as the men who were using her.

  A spasm started in her groin and then shuddered ripple-like through her body. Its power was phenomenal, jolting through every nerve-ending until she was alive and bright with a glow of pure satisfaction. A groan of elation burst from her lips and she basked in the thrill of release as a second wave of delight tore through her.

  The erection in her rear pulsed and her sphincter convulsed around its girth. She could feel the shaft thickening – stretching her anus impossibly wide – and then it quivered and douched her bowel with a scalding rush of ejaculate.

  The length in her pussy trembled next. Its pace quickened as it buried deep and bruised the neck of her womb. She gasped, clutched tight at the man above her, and then languished in a roar of responses as he squirted his seed deep into her pussy.

  The plateaus of pleasure came so hard they were almost intolerable. Justine hadn’t thought her body could suffer so much euphoria, and she began to tense with dread as the first orgasm reached a glorious peak and then threatened to bombard her senses with more cataclysmic bursts of ecstasy. Her heart had raced before: now it pounded like a deafening timpani. She sucked on the two shafts that filled her mouth, throwing every effort into taking them past the point of orgasm, and was rewarded by a pair of united pulses.

  Blindingly bright, more flashbulbs exploded. Her earlier worry about being shamed by photographs was now forgotten. The idea that her acts of daring would be recorded forever added a new dimension to the thrill of the evening.

  Her tongue was coated with the gelatinous spend from two strangers and she quickly swallowed. The noisome flavour was simultaneously disgusting and delicious. It made her want to gag with revulsion and shriek with delight. Dizzied by the conflicting extremes, she was too busy enjoying the moment to try and rationalise her reactions. Caught up in the mood of the party, she could only swallow and wallow in the joy of being used.

  With obscene ease, fresh erections replaced those spent ones that had used her.

  The shaft that penetrated her rear
slid effortlessly inside, helped by the lubrication of her previous lover’s climax. The thicker length that pushed into her pussy was just as easily accommodated, and Justine didn’t know whether to feel shocked by her own depravity or giddy from the pleasure of this new extreme. She choked back a scream of animal hunger and accepted the pair of erections that were thrust toward her face. Panting heavily, she sucked on them both and rolled her tongue against their bulbous ends.

  She lost track of the number of men who used her and the number of orgasms they inspired. In no mood for playing counting games she simply gave herself over to the delight of being brought to climax after climax. Distantly, she could hear the string quartet shifting from one tune to another, but it was a background music that didn’t properly intrude on her concentration. A part of her understood that the evening was rushing quickly past but, with her thoughts fixed only on her personal pleasure, she didn’t fret about the details. When the last erection had pulsed into her mouth, the excess spend dribbling over her lower lip to join the creamy beard that soaked her jaw, Justine only wanted to weep with gratitude.

  ‘Are you acquiring La Coste for yourself, Justine?’

  She blinked at the questioner and realised it was Sartine. After the heady joys of all she had just savoured his question jarred discordantly with the ambience of the evening. Common sense told her he had chosen this moment because he thought her defences would be at their lowest. She didn’t know much about the psychology of interviews and interrogation but she reasoned that, when a subject was distracted, they were least likely to remember a lie. And she supposed Sartine was rationalising along the same lines and trying to trick her into giving a truthful response.

 

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