Ectasy on Fire

Melissa's grip on Steve's cock was firm and forceful. She squeezed it hard, feeling it pulse against her palm. She fingered herself more insistently as well, scarcely able to continue.

"I drove my finger into her asshole and felt it squeezing around me. Then I felt her tongue on my cunt, darting out like a flame to set me afire."

Melissa's hand pumped harder up and down Steve's cock, while her finger worked more furiously around her own sex. She opened her eyes and looked over at Steve; his eyes were closed in the rising deluge of his desire. He knitted his brows and let out a low moan. "What else?" he said, his voice low and breathless.

"Well," she stammered, her body rushing with warmth. "Well, she licked my cunt, my wet cunt. It's wet now, Steve, so wet, I'm about to come." As she said this, she could feel the ultimate explosion rising in his cock. She pumped her hand up and down while rubbing her finger wildly around her clitoris. "You're coming, too aren't you?"

"Yes." he said and then they both exploded. He spurted onto his leg and her fingers. Their bodies were momentarily paralyzed in their desire. Her hand stopped working up and down his cock and her grip loosened. He took his own hand to it then, and finished himself off.

Chapter Fourteen

Whenever Mrs. Staunton and Maurice were gone from the chateau, the hackneyed theme of "while the cat's away, the mice will play" applied in full, at least where Madam Andre and George were concerned.

Since the arrival some month's back of the Cockney girl, Nellie, another mouse was added to the game. Nellie had been only too willing to participate once she'd learned how much she could trust the two other household servants.

But at first, the young English girl was leery of both of them, and especially George. He was a huge, hairy man and huge hairy men always frightened her.

When Mrs. Staunton had first brought the young freckle-faced girl to the chateau and introduced her to Madam Andre, the housekeeper had had her misgivings.

"George," she said much later, "I don't know how you're going to take to this kid."

"What's that mean?"

"It means," she said, slowly opening her dress so he could observe her great breasts from across the table, "it means that we're going to have to move very fast if she's going to become a part of our secret games, the way I know you wish the tweenie maid to be."

"Right," George replied. He was chewing on a huge pork-chop bone, after having already finished a lunch that might have fed three normal men.

"So how do you suggest we go about this, eh?" she inquired.

"Well," he replied, observing that Madam Andre was now playing with her huge breasts, fondling them mindlessly, "well, if maybe you get her into some kind of embarrassing position. that might do it."

Madam Andre interrupted, "You mean blackmail?"

"Of a sort."

French peasants, and for that matter, French aristocracy, are as addicted to blackmail as American teenagers are addicted to Rock amp; Roll.

"We might work it out together."

"How?" George threw his gnawed pork bone to one of the three waiting wolfhounds that lived on the grounds.

Madam got up from her chair and came around his end of the table. She kneeled in front of him. Opening his pants, she felt around inside until her fingers gripped his enormous cock. It was always semi-rigid. She felt its thickness, and the heat it threw off, but she especially loved the weight of the monster as she raised it up and down in her hand.

Cradling his cock thusly, she looked up at him. He was reaching for yet another pork-chop bone. When she growled at him, he obediently threw it to the dogs.

Madam Andre loved to lick and kiss George's huge prick while he sat at the table. There was something romantic, and at the same time, vulgar about it.

She loved to play with it while she had her other hand up under her long, ankle-length dress, twiddling her clitoris or finger-fucking her cunt. She would lick up and down the shaft, spitting on it, then masturbating it to full erection. He would just sit there looking down at her, perhaps smoking a cigarette, or leisurely drinking a glass of red wine.

When Madam Andre would finally open her big mouth and let his cock slide down her throat in one full thrust, he'd get on his knees and fuck her in the mouth as if he were fucking her from the rear. That sent the French woman out of her mind with lust: drooling, and gasping as his monstrous cock spewed his fluids down her throat in great gobs. Sometimes she was sure she would gag to death if he didn't pull the thing out of her throat, but she loved every minute of it.

She also loved another variation on the theme. Sometimes she would expose her huge breasts while she knelt in front of him, sucking his naked cock. As she kissed and sucked, she would play with her breasts so that George could watch and be amused.

With her hands busy on both breasts, her fingers squeezing, pinching and stroking her nipples, and his prick at her command, she was be lost in pleasure.