EPISODE XVII
----
The maid still stood by the door, tray in hand.
Doralea, eyes swimming under the continuing ministrations of the Nordic woman, noticed several others in the shadows, including Shannon.
The brown man stepped several paces away from Doralea and her blonde explorer and, planting both feet firmly on the deck and squatting, peasant-style, watched Gavia work her blind way over Doralea.
Doralea was fascinated by this powerful man, and terribly excited to have the hard-body Amazon chewing and squeezing and rubbing her under his attentive gaze.
Shannon, naked to the waist with a mid-thigh pleated skirt, folded her heels under her ass beside the man in the white suit and watched.
Doralea and Gavia were the focus of everyone in the room, Doralea found it exciting to be on display, inhibiting as well, and, though her cunt was pounding in her head, she stayed at the crest of her high wave, without crashing into orgasm.
The blonde's hot tongue lapped across the line of her waist.
Long, strong fingers pressed deeply into Doralea's thighs.
Gavia arched her neck to reach around and nibble at Doralea's ass-cheek.
Doralea squeaked sharply through the gag when the blonde nipped a chunk of her ass-flesh.
The small audience laughed at her flinch forward, which exposed the thickening, juicy lips of her pussy through the tump of her cunt-hair.
Gavia's long finger poked at the tender lips, probing through the damp, tangled forest, raking the hair back from her glisting slit to expose it even more to the many attentive gazes.
Doralea watched as the brown man rested his hand on Shannon's thigh.
He worked the pleated skirt out of his way until his long fingers curled in the furrow of her lap.
Shannon spread her knees to allow him access and adjusted her skirt to expose her thighs and the cunny nestled between.
Gavia began to lick lightly along Doralea's pussy, her tongue extended, her breath hot.
Doralea lifted her cunt to the blonde's mouth.
To better expose her cunt, to afford Gavia better access.
Doralea set a heel against the powerful Nordic shoulder blades and pressed her pulsing pussy even harder against the burrowing mouth.
The brown man suddenly stood and pulled Gavia away from Doralea, who moaned behind the gag.
"Over there, its time for breakfast," he ordered, indicating the spot on the floor he had just left.
Shannon guided the quickly obedient Gavia with her voice.
He turned his back on them and smiled into Doralea's shivering eyes.
"You won't eat much with this," he cooed and disconnected the thong from the shelf behind Doralea's lead.
He eased the saliva-soaked sinnet out of her mouth and laid it on the shelf.
He laid a hand on the outer curves of her thighs and, stroking lightly, kissed her, pinning her head against the shelf.
He smiled again and went to where he had left Shannon.
Gavia sat there now on the floor beside Shannon.
The brown man sat behind Gavia, hugging her to his chusst.
He turned her to the side and swung his right leg over her belly, leaning her back until her head was supported on his left knee.
The maid began to lay out breakfast on a small lacquered tray beside Gavia, between the man's feet.
A stack of steaming waffles was uncovered and was accompanied by a pitcher of cold juice, a bottle of syrup and a large bowl mounded high with whipped cream.
A large silver coffee urn was placed between Gavia's legs, the long silver legs pressed against the insides of her thighs, the spigot directly over her cunt-mound.
The man in white immediately set a saucer and cup on the plump blonde pudenda and filled it with the steaming coffee.
Doralea winced, anticipating some dreadful scalding, but Gavia held very still.
He filled a couple more cups and handed two to Shannon, who rose and walked over to set them on the shelf beside Doralea's head.
"How's your morning so far, Dear?" Shannon smiled and lifted a cup of hot coffee to Doralea's lips.
"OK, I guess. This guy's quite a ride."
The man in the white suit shot a glare across the room and silenced Doralea with his rich-chocolate eyes.
She lowered her gaze contritely, but Shannon's wonderful tits, set off against the pleated plaid skirt, immediately distracted her.
Shannon spoke quietly, as Doralea watched her tits rise and fall with her breath, "Look, she's going to let him take her."
_
Doralea looked up and saw a slender blonde woman rising from the tub. She had amazingly smooth, amazingly white skin -- it was an alabaster hue, lightly veined with blue and plumped from inside just enough to be smooth, even and soft. She curled on her side, by the tub, her back to Doralea.
A man knelt in the tub stroking the backs of her thighs, which she presented to him. His skin was the same soft white as hers, but his hair was a dark brown, the color of ale.
She waited in careful anticipation as he explored her groin: dipping between her outer pussy lips, scooping her juice onto his fingers and spreading it into all the rills between her soft, white thighs.
All eyes were on the tender assault developing in the mist-heavy air beside the tub.
As everyone watched his progress, she waited, her white ass-cheeks trembling.
"She has never before allowed --" whispered Shannon.
The man lay one pale finger-tip on her ass-hole.
She lay still as he pressed harder with his finger.
She trembled and tried to relax, tried to trust, tried to allow him his gentleness.
The narrow tip of his insistent digit entered smoothly.
Doralea realized that she had been holding her breath, willing the woman to relax, to take the probe, as she had so often willed herself.
As he slowly worked the finger deeper into her ass-hole, the marble-white woman moaned and eased into a stretch.
He drew his finger nearly out of her clutching anus, as she rolled slowly onto her back.
Her tits lolled loosely on her ribs, the areolae nearly as pale as her skin.
As he pressed another finger in, she mumbled in garbled syllables.
He worked in a third and a fourth, then rose over her, folding her at the waist to drive his four fingers deeply in.
