The Darness Yields a Question

"Without deviation progress is not possible."

Frank Zappa

Chapter 3

With her ass jutting up, simply begging to be mounted, Grace felt Rex move closer. His thighs pressed against hers and something long and heavy lay itself on top of her ass and across her back. Grace's eyes widened and she tried to see it. But the angle was not good. With her face to the floor, try as she might she could not see behind her. Looking around at the others sitting against the shower wall, she found them intently watching her, jerking themselves off. Whatever it was Rex just dropped on her ass, it felt huge.

Rex's fingers grasped the soft flesh of Grace's ample, white ass, filling each hand with a cheek, squeezing and spreading them slightly.

Her eyes fluttered as she felt his dick snake slowly down her back, between the cheeks of her ass, and then down past her lips, fiery friction against her pussy. And then the head of Rex's giant cock was pressing firmly against the lips of her upthrust cunt.

Thorn and Augustin, jerking each other off now, seemed to lean forward a bit at this point. Their eyes were glued on Grace and Rex, with special focus on the the junction of Rex's giant cock and Grace's tiny pussy. Gordon was equally engrossed, with two fingers of one hand up inside her furry, dripping snatch while the other massaged her breasts.

Grace was lost in the sensations. Her ass and cunt felt so warm and so good, and so did she. Electric sparks and tiny shivers ran through her entire body and she felt she could do anything, take anything.

Rex pressed. Grace grunted, loudly. Rex backed off. Fingers gently probed, pushing in, gently rubbing, one, two, then three fingers, pressing in and down. And then he pulled them out and tried again.

"Unnnnh..." Grace groaned. Ok, well, maybe not anything.

More gentle probing and then another push.

"Unnhhh..." and then, as Grace's brow furrowed slightly with concern, Gordon spoke up. "My turn!" and leapt to her feet.

Inserting herself between Rex and Grace, Gordon grabbed Rex's greasy cock and stroked it affectionately a few times before placing a friendly kiss on its tip. Then, gently pushing it and Rex back, wresting control of the situation, she got comfortable, and got down to business.

Gordon's tongue was well above average in both length and strength. The first, a freakish and fortunate gift of genetics; the second was the simple result of regular practice and constant ambition, a daily exercise of devotion. More worship than recreation, more art than discipline, for Gordon, cunnilingus was the culmination of transcendence and joy. She was a high priest in the sacred order of eating pussy.

A most devout follower of this sacred faith, Gordon approached every pussy as if it were a holy shrine. Gazing rapturously upon the lightly furred mons, she practically devoured Grace's pussy with her eyes, absorbing every beautiful feature as she chanted quietly to herself. Then, closing her eyes, she calmed herself, cleared her mind of extraneous thoughts. And when she was completely relaxed, centered, she pressed her face, eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, close against the lips of Grace's delicate, upturned flower, quietly inhaling, gently murmuring, praying. With great love and reverence, she gently pressed her mouth against the outer labia, briefly inserted just the tip of her formidable tongue, and gave the sapphire hanging from its ring a gentle flick.

The touch was so gentle, to Grace it felt as if a butterfly had landed on her, or a snow-flake, or a spark: tiny, ephemeral, fragile, yet capable of igniting the mightiest of infernos. She closed her eyes and relaxed, let her mind wander.

The mystical tongue pressed a tiny bit more, slid a tiny bit deeper, slowly explored the tender flesh. Grace sighed.

Born with an unusually high capacity for empathy, Gordon also possessed a degree in anatomy from the University of São Paulo, where she studied for a while to be a gynaecologist. To her parents' great disappointment, Gordon never completed the doctoral program. To countless others, however, the hard work she did at school translated to heroic doses of satisfaction such that few mortals could even imagine. From her studies and her natural gifts, Gordon distilled an unfailing intuition for the needs of those she could get her mouth on. She knew every square millimeter of flesh, every wrinkle and groove of the vagina like her favorite pillow, and she loved to rest her head nowhere better.

And now Grace was discovering just how lucky a mortal could get.

With the artful curves of a Billy Holiday song and the power of an Orff opera, Gordon put her indefatigable tongue to work, tongue-fucking Grace with style and purpose. At times rhythmic, building anticipation with predictable strokes, at other times diving deep, licking to the depths and holding tight with her mouth pressed against swollen labia majora. Occasionally punctuating her rhythms with irregular patterns, her prehensile tongue touching spots Grace didn't even know she had.

Grace's juices began to drip. Gordon happily lapped them up.

Rex sat against one wall, stroking his monster cock; Augustin and Thorn sat next to each other against the opposite wall, stroking each other's dicks. All eyes were on Grace and Gordon.

As the magic tongue continued its work, Grace occasionally noticed noises that sounded vaguely like soft whimpers. Sometimes they sounded close and other times very far away. And although she couldn't really focus on them, thanks to the amazing sensations Gordon was generating in her hot cunt, she noticed that they kept getting louder. Surely everyone in the room could hear them.

When Grace finally recognized they were coming from her own mouth, she was too far gone to care. They issued from Grace's slightly parted and drooling mouth and she was no more conscious of them than she was of the puddle of spit the right side of her face was resting in. Gordon was working her g-spot and it felt to Grace as if she were about to catch fire on the inside, as if she might explode. Her moans faltered, her breathing became irregular, and then a sigh and she would tense up, and then she would relax again. Her nerves built up and then fell as if on a roller coaster, crescendo and diminuendo, again and again, over and over.

Without letting up her lingual ministrations, Gordon introduced the digits of one hand. Two fingers with carefully trimmed nails were gently inserted and placed inside Grace's warm and juicy hole. Gently massaging and applying delicate pressure alongside the tongue that lapped and licked and the lips that sucked and slurped, the fingers pressed in and gently but firmly stroked against sensitive skin. Gordon trailed tiny kisses up and down both labia before landing on the gem and the precious pearl it protected.

A third finger joined the first two. Grace continued to moan. The tongue and lips continued to stroke and caress.

Grace's juices were flowing copiously and in no time Gordon's entire hand was wet and slippery.

A fourth finger entered, and Grace sensed a growing fullness deep inside of her. Gordon's fingers pressed with slightly more urgency; her tongue flicked with slightly more force, plucking at Grace's clit like the string of a harp.

Gordon rubbed and fucked and licked with virtuosity. To Grace it seemed as if several people were having their way with her, several wonderful people whom she intended to let do whatever they wanted for as long as they wanted to do it. She was beginning to get that familiar feeling, sort of like needing to pee. Raised with good manners, Grace never wanted to make a mess, and a slight feeling of concern washed into her euphoria. But in her mind were too few brain cells with any capacity for decision making and instead of addressing this concern, her thoughts simply spiraled around themselves like birds in the eye of a hurricane.

And then Gordon inserted her thumb at the same moment her tongue began to rub against Grace's clit with greater intensity.

Grace shivered ever so gently as the widest part of Gordon's hand inserted itself inside her. That Gordon's hands were the perfect size and shape for fist-fucking was simply one of the many perfect things that made her who she was. Still licking and caressing all over Grace's backside, Gordon cocked her head to the side and had a quick look at Grace's face, just to double check that everything was all right as they arrived at the moment of truth.

Rapturous bliss radiated from Grace's warmly glowing face. Gordon pressed just a tiny bit harder, felt her hand slip through, curled her fingers into a fist, and began to fuck Grace properly.

"Oooohhh..." Grace moaned loudly. "What are you doing to me..."

"Shush now, my treasure. Let Gordon take care of you."

Repositioning herself, Gordon got her face underneath Grace's stuffed cunt, which was dripping juice prodigiously, and drank the flowing nectar as her fist gently pistoned in and out, fist-fucking Grace with powerful and rhythmic thrusts. All the while the men looked on with hunger.

Grace's moans became more intense. Tension was building up inside of her. Every movement of Gordon's amazing fist raised her ardor by a degree. She was close and getting closer. Gordon fucked harder and harder.

Nipples taught, mind reeling, vagina on fire, Grace was ready to explode. Gordon's fist was pushing her beyond what she thought she could endure, more joy than she imagined was even possible. Grace's voice uttered sounds without trying to form words and with a growing intensity.

Juices gushing, the pale flesh of her entire body flush with excitement, a keening wale issuing from her drooling mouth, Grace was on the precipice of something huge. Just one more thrust of Gordon's fist inside her hungry cunt would be all it takes. And at that precise moment...

Gordon smoothly, and suddenly, withdrew.

"Ok, boys. I think she's ready." and with that Gordon gave her fist, the fist just removed from Grace's burning and now vacant pussy, a long, languorous lick; she so loved the taste of deep girl. "Maybe take the cuffs off. Her shoulders seem tight."