What She Needs

by Lacey Alexander

  She flushed a bit more, but managed to say, “I’m . . . glad they please you.”

  And he smiled darkly, gratified that she was getting into this, slowly but surely. “They’ll soon please me much more. You’ll please me much more. Won’t you, slave girl?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, appearing breathless, still nervous—but that was okay. “I . . . wish to please you.”

  “Good little sex slave,” he fawned.

  Then he tweaked her nipples lightly, making her let out a pretty whimper, and glanced to his right. “Barbie, Sasha, come here.” It was time to turn things up a notch and hope she didn’t freak out.

  Both girls complied, one kneeling on each side of him so that they all faced Jenna.

  “Look at our new harem girl. Isn’t she lovely? Doesn’t she have beautiful tits?” His hands still framed them loosely.

  Barbie answered first, casting Jenna a warm smile. “Very lovely indeed.”

  “Mmm, sumptuous,” Sasha purred.

  “I wish to kiss her neck,” he announced then. “Move beside her and draw her hair back from her shoulders.”

  Sasha and Barbie obeyed—and Jenna’s eyes filled with uncertainty.

  Yet as he placed one palm at the curve of her waist and leaned in to lower a gentle kiss to her neck, he felt her relax. In reaction to the second kiss, she even sighed. Inwardly, he smiled, sizzling with anticipation now—and despite her shyness, he began to feel more assured she would let his will be done.

  As he skimmed his touch over her shoulder, her arm, he delivered more kisses—and she leaned her head back to accept them, letting out more pretty sighs in response. Did she notice when more light caresses came on her shoulders as his own descended, grazing over her breasts to the soft skin below? Did it dawn on her that he couldn’t touch her in that many places with only two hands?

  Her eyes had closed, but he didn’t reprimand her, not yet—because she was doing surprisingly well, his Little Miss Sunshine.

  When he relinquished kissing her neck and shoulders, he said, “Sasha, Barbie—last night, our new slave girl indulged in activities that might have left her back aching, so I want you both to massage her.”

  Jenna didn’t even appear dismayed when the girls did as instructed, Barbie beginning to knead her neck and shoulders as Sasha’s palms molded to lower areas of her back. But she did open her eyes, meet his gaze, appearing languid and acceptant.

  “Relax and enjoy, slave girl. Let this soothe your tensions,” he said. Then he turned to Kirsten, who sat waiting behind him. “Pour Jenna more wine.”

  A moment later, Jenna accepted the ceramic cup willingly, taking a sip.

  Good, he thought. This was going extremely well. It should, of course—he had years of experience at this. But given that Jenna was such an unusual case, he hadn’t been as confident of the outcome as he normally would.

  When Jenna finished her wine, he motioned for Kirsten to pour still more. Sasha and Barbie continued rubbing her back, deeply, occasionally causing a small moan to erupt from Jenna’s throat. And elsewhere in the room, his other harem girls persisted in entertaining one another as well.

  Finally, he took the cup from her hand and said, “Go lounge amid those pillows,” pointing toward a stack of cushions a few yards away. Sasha and Barbie withdrew their touches, allowing Jenna to lie back among the cushions, a sensual vision in yellow. Her eyes said she was ready for more, and if it was possible, his dick got stiffer. “Very nice, slave girl,” he told her when their gazes met again—as he, too, reclined, leaning back against a large red bolster, propping himself up on his elbow.

  That’s when she realized. “You’re not coming? Over here?”

  He gently shook his head. “There’s more than one way for me to enjoy you, and right now, I wish to do it with my eyes.”

  Jenna drew in her breath. Things were changing here, too quickly. And it had already been so very much to take in: the rich colors and shadowy air; Brent’s cock standing at attention for all to see beneath those pants while a gorgeous woman clung to him; and, of course, all these girls making out and touching each other. At first sight, her stomach had squirmed. But at the same time, she’d been drawn to watch even while embarrassed by her interest.

  Once she’d started getting used to that, it had seemed like . . . wallpaper, like something that blended into the background after a while, and things had grown easier when he began to caress and kiss her. Even when he’d had the two pretty girls massage her, she’d not freaked out—she’d had occasional massages at home and had told herself this wasn’t really any different. That was a ridiculous lie, of course, but it got her through it.

  And now . . . oh God, what was going to happen? Was he expecting her to do what those girls across the room were doing? Just then, she let out a silent gasp because a glance at two women on the room’s higher level revealed that it was more than just kissing now—one was eating the other. And a glimpse of yet another pair shocked her just as badly—both were topless now, kneading each other’s breasts.

  “Spread your legs and reveal your cunt,” Brent said. She returned her gaze to him to make sure—and yep, he was talking to her.

  She felt much as she had at moments in the schoolroom yesterday—like maybe it was time to say her safeword. But then she remembered—Brent had urged her to say it not from fear, but only if she was truly displeasured. Of course, being asked to reveal her vagina to a room full of other girls could be viewed as something that displeasured her—but did it? Really?

  She sucked in her breath at the answer.

  At any other moment of her life, it likely would have repulsed her. But right now, in this room, with all these beautiful, sexual women . . . there was an unforeseen part of her that wanted . . . to be like them. Be one of them. So sensual and carefree. Following urges. Seeking pleasure. And besides, she still found herself wishing to please Brent.

  So she tucked away the safeword in the back of her mind and met his gaze, a place where she always found . . . not solace or safety exactly, but something that gave her courage, urged her onward. Then she took a deep breath, reached down—still keeping her eyes only on him—and slowly drew the front draping of her skirt to one side, revealing first her thighs, then the juncture above.

  She didn’t look down, though, because if she did, she might stop. Just keep watching Brent. Keep pleasing him. His masculine gaze truly fueled her. Enough to make her pull the swath of yellow chiffon completely away. Enough to make her slowly part her legs for him.

  His eyes narrowed at the sight and he looked more lust-filled than she’d ever seen him. She prayed she wasn’t imagining it, because without that, without honestly believing he desired her, she couldn’t do this. His heated expression made her spread farther, and farther still, until she knew she was fully displayed, not only for him, but for any other woman in the room who cared to glance over.

  “Barbie,” he said, “place this tray between Jenna’s thighs.” He motioned to the fruit-and-chocolate tray, and Jenna accidentally held her breath as the delicate, dark-haired girl approached a moment later, carrying out Brent’s command. She felt like . . . an obscene dessert.

  “Now, girls,” Brent said, looking to both Barbie and Sasha, “I want you to taste her. I want you to stroke the fruit through her wet pussy and eat it.”

  Jenna began to shudder lightly, unsure if it was from repulsion or the bizarre excitement of such an utterly kinky command. But she still didn’t say the safeword—and instead, it was Brent who began to speak, in a surprisingly soothing tone. “Jenna, I will take immense pleasure in this. And so you will do this for me, your master.” He arched one dark eyebrow, like a firm nudge, and somehow—somehow—convinced her to let this happen. Oh Lord, she truly was an obscene dessert.

  As the blond girl in blue picked up a strawberry, Jenna kept her gaze riveted on Brent, but he gave his head a short shake. “Look down. Watch.”

  With her knees slightly bent, she made herself glance downward
as the pretty girl slowly raked the chocolate-dipped fruit through her most intimate folds. Jenna had mostly stopped shuddering now, but the new sensation made her tremble again, in—oh my!—a strange sort of pleasure.

  She bit her lip, cautiously raising her gaze to see Sasha sensually bite into the moistened treat, then close her eyes, letting out a long, “Mmmm,” looking as if she were savoring it.

  Next, the dark-haired Barbie, just as pretty and lithe, stroked a piece of banana through Jenna’s pinkness. Again, she watched. Again, she quivered lightly. God, it felt good. Shockingly good. But then, maybe any touch would right now. The way Brent watched her increased everything she felt.

  Although she’d been tense and nervous when this had started, as the two harem girls continued to drag the strawberries and bananas through her cunt and eat them, purring in delight, Jenna began to relax more with each piece. She simply watched now, simply tried to accept the pleasure, shutting her eyes lightly each time it struck, then opening them again to see the girls eat the odd delicacy and let out soft moans. Soon, she was oozing with new moisture, especially when the girls swept the fruit over her clit. It had grown swollen; she felt the touches more and more each time.

  Peering down, she saw that now Sasha’s fingertips, too, touched her, from the particular way she held the fruit. Was Jenna getting the girl’s fingers wet? And—oh Lord, why did that thought excite her? She’d never desired another woman in her life. And yet a stark, forbidden sort of arousal struck—coursing through her veins, and her pussy. Her own impassioned sighs now added to the sounds in the intoxicating room.

  When she sensed movement nearby, she shifted her gaze to see Brent coming toward her. Her gaze locked on his, but in her peripheral vision, she couldn’t help noticing the size of his erection through those thin pants, and it compounded her yearnings. Her pussy pulsed now—she felt her heartbeat there.

  Kneeling between her legs, beyond the tray, he didn’t smile as he plucked up a strawberry of his own and smoothly glided it deeply, oh so deeply, through her sensitive pink creases and over her clit in a way she felt even more than before. She watched him bite into it, chew, swallow. “Mmm, sweet,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

  She wanted, more than anything in that moment, for him to kiss her, to fuck her, madly. Now her whole body pulsed, every cell suddenly screaming to be taken by him.

  But that wasn’t what happened.

  Instead, he simply lay back next to her in the colored pillows and said, “That was lovely to watch, my little slave girl. And now, I want you to learn the pleasures of watching, too.”

  With that, he pointed across the room to where the rest of the girls made out and caressed one another. “Watch,” he said again, because she’d lowered her gaze automatically. “Your master demands it, Jenna.”

  Jenna took a deep breath. She knew she didn’t have to do this—she could leave at any time—but, God help her, she still wanted to please him, give him what he wanted, make him proud, prove herself worthy of his attention and desire. And so she focused on a group of three girls, all with their breasts bared, softly touching each other.

  “That’s right,” Brent whispered low and deep. “Just watch, honey.”

  That’s when a buxom redhead bent to lick the nipple of an equally well-endowed blonde. And just as Jenna began adjusting to what she was seeing, a dark-skinned girl clearly of Middle Eastern descent crawled nearer to take the blonde’s other hard nipple between her lips. The woman being pleasured let her head drop back in ecstasy for a moment, but then resumed watching the ministrations the same as Jenna did, beginning to stroke the hair of the two women suckling her. Jenna could have sworn she felt the suckling between her legs.

  Especially when Brent, already leaning against her, slid his hand onto her thigh, gently caressing. Her pussy went crazy, just from that, and it was all she could do not to squirm and beg.

  “Keep watching, Jenna,” he had to instruct her again, and she realized her eyes had dropped to where he touched her—and at the same time she noticed something new: a small tattoo on his upper arm, the initials D.L.

  When she looked back across the space, though, the view left no energy for wondering what the tattoo meant. Now the dark-skinned girl had backed away and the redhead suckled the blonde harder, using both hands to squeeze and mold the woman’s large breasts. Soon the red-haired woman stretched out on her hands and knees, her face still buried in cleavage, the move encouraging the Middle Eastern girl to caress her now. Dark hands glided over the redhead’s slender stomach, until finally the Middle Eastern girl situated herself behind the redhead to sensually massage her ass through emerald green chiffon.

  At some point, Barbie pressed a fresh cup of wine into Jenna’s hand and she began to drink, simply because it was there. Brent’s scintillating caresses continued on her thigh, making her crazy, but her gaze remained riveted on the unfolding scene across the room.

  The redhead kissed her way down the smooth stomach of the blonde as the darker girl kneaded her ass, finally pushing the green chiffon aside to deliver tender kisses there. Soon, the redhead was pushing aside another chiffon panel, this one fuchsia, to lick between the blonde’s parted thighs. The blonde flinched and cried out her pleasure, and Jenna’s stomach swirled with strange, forbidden excitement as she took another drink of wine and felt her cunt throb. Brent’s hand caressed her mere inches away, but it felt like miles. Her swollen breasts ached for attention as well, and with every subtle move she made now, her chiffon top moved against her nipples, creating friction where she’d not noticed it before.

  Across the room, the redhead ate the blonde vigorously, and the other girl now thrust two fingers into the redhead’s pussy. Moans filled the room, and Jenna realized—remembered—that there were yet other women pleasuring each other among the pillows. The one that had hung on Brent’s shoulder before now kissed another girl in a corner of the room, having pushed aside the girl’s top. And another group of three convened near the steps that led into the pit—one girl lay between the other two, having her pussy rubbed by a petite girl with long, coppery hair while another busty blonde bent to dangle a bared breast into her waiting mouth.

  It was so much to take in, Jenna barely knew where to look. Yet now, somehow, she wanted to see. She wanted to somehow . . . wallow in the wonders of it, trying to understand why she wanted to watch, trying to understand the excitement it produced inside her.

  She drank more wine and feared her pussy would explode if it didn’t get some attention soon. Brent’s slow, confident caresses were driving her mad. She still suffered the urge to beg him, but simply could not. She scarcely understood why—this was by far the most sexually free she’d ever felt, and the most aroused, but she remained unable to ask, to let him know what she desperately craved.

  Still, her breath grew labored, and whereas her legs had naturally closed after the fruit eating had stopped, now they’d parted again, just as naturally, so that when she glanced down, she saw she’d put her pussy back on display.

  She almost snapped her thighs shut at the realization—but she stopped, forced herself to keep them open. She couldn’t tell Brent what she wanted, yet . . . if she could just keep her legs spread for him, well, that alone seemed like a victory right now. Seeking a distraction from her own thoughts, she took another large drink of wine, draining her cup—and like an on-call servant, Barbie was right there, leaning over Jenna in her pretty chiffon to pour more.

  It was as Jenna took the first swallow that Brent’s caresses finally—finally!—advanced toward the juncture of her thighs. Oh God, yes! She parted wider, instinctively, hungry—so hungry—to be touched there. Her whole being ached and she took another large sip, this time trying to drown her need somehow, slow it, weaken it. But it made no difference—she needed sex like she’d never needed it in her life.

  When Brent’s fingers finally sank into her denuded pussy, she let out a guttural moan. At last. At last!

  Brent’s pleasure flowed thr
ough his lusty gaze. “Does that feel good, slave girl?”

  “Yes. Mmm, yes.”

  As he began to stroke her, she moved against his hand, never even thinking to squelch the urge. Yes, yes, yes.

  “Keep watching my other harem girls,” he reminded her, and so she stared as the dark-skinned girl bent to eat the redhead from behind even as the redhead continued feasting on the blonde. Jenna thrust rhythmically at Brent’s hand, and she discovered she also liked looking down, seeing his large fingertips buried in her pinkness, seeing the wetness she left on his hand. She would come soon, so soon.

  But then—oh Lord, damn it, no—he drew his touch away!

  She instantly whimpered, to which he responded, “Relax, slave girl—I’m not going anywhere.” Thank God!

  And already he was repositioning himself between her legs, stretching out on his hands and knees—after which he met her gaze to say, “Spread wide, so I can eat this pretty pussy until you come screaming.”

  She sucked in her breath, but didn’t hesitate to do what he said.

  And then came the hot joy that permeated her being. He licked her from bottom to top, slow, thorough, ending at her clit, which he sucked into his mouth briefly before letting it go. She cried out from the powerful pleasure bolting through her—then watched him do it again, again. Each lick produced a wild burst of heat inside her, so intense she could barely absorb it before the next arrived.

  As her own moans mingled with those of other girls, she glanced from the beautifully obscene sight of Brent’s face between her legs, wet now, to the forbidden liaisons taking place all around her. She thrust at his mouth, hard. And then she grew aware of . . . other hands . . . soft, feminine hands . . . on her arms, shoulders. Like earlier, Sasha and Barbie were gently caressing her, adding to the myriad sensations already assaulting her senses.