Chapter One
They had picked her up off the casino floor. Not literally, no; she was not lying there waiting to be fucked. It was not as easy as that.
Almost...but, not quite. Rather, the raven-haired tomboy with the apple-sized tits popping out of the ragged, low-cut t-shirt promoting some obscure indie rock band, literally thrust her wide hips into them, in apparent haste to reach the "Addams Family" slot machine first. Raven Apple Tits, as the snarky, but entitled-to-be-that way sexy couple were to later call her, splashed her watered-down cheap cocktail all over Pixie's corset.
"Hey! What the... Watch it, you bitch! I'm wet!," the firey-haired, and equally aptly-named Pixie shrilled.
Her partner, Draco, a tall, broad-shouldered, charismatic man with wavy brown hair and electric blue eyes snickered, and lovingly put his arm over the shoulder of his stunning, but now vodka and cranberry soaked, wife.
"Oh my God! I'm mmm soo sorry..." stammered the tomboy.
Pixie absent-mindedly brushed at her bosom, slicking away the offending tonic. Draco, missing nothing, an observant and focused man, followed the dark-haired woman's eyes with his own. Wide, glowing, and deep green, they soaked up Pixie's movements, a smile curled up from the right side of her small, glazed, pale red lips.
"We caught a fish," Draco thought to himself, most contentedly. "We caught a sweet piece of ass, Pixie," he caught himself whispering.
"Let me help!" Raven exclaimed, reaching up with her hands, perhaps forgetting herself as she was about to grope the breasts of a complete stranger she had just obviously offended. Draco intervened, and deflected her hands with his elbow, as he turned to face his flustered wife. One quick wink told Pixie everything she needed to know. Game on.
Part 2
She was wet. Soaked, in fact. Beads of sweat were running down her back; under her arms, her bound breasts, her forehead, and a slippery streak of saliva slivered deliciously down her cheek, through the ball gag in her hot mouth, down onto her lipstick-marked neck, meeting the sweat on her scarlet tits in a luscious river of slickness. Pixie was busy licking all this furiously off the helplessly detained Raven, mixing spit with sweat, with drool, with the natural oils which slowly seeped from seemingly every pore of the tormented woman's skin.
"God. That is fucking hot, Pixie... Bite her tits again. I want to hear her muffled whimpers. Make her slobber some more, baby..."
With a wickedly evil gin, Pixie complied. Her green eyes were wide and blazing with lust; otherwise they burned as fiery as her red hair. She wore only thigh-high black stockings, and a black satin teddy. Her nipples on her perfect C-cup breasts poked through the thin material, which she rubbed firmly against Raven as the dance of licking, kissing, sucking and tongue lapping caressed her captive new playmate. Her playmate, who wore only the hemp cord which tightly embraced and lifted her tits, and the ball gag in her mouth.
Draco stood to the side of this glorious sight, swaying his own body in a sort of synchronized pattern to the "dance" of his lover and Raven. In the darkened hotel room, the decorative votive candles they wisely packed for the weekend, were now flickering in earnest, casting enchanting shadows and light on the women.
Part 3
