Private Venice for Three

Oily water is closing on the oar as it enters the water in regular long strokes and emerges, glistening wet, like a tongue on a lover. The lagoon is still, heavy deep fog around us gives even more of a sense of stillness.

Venice is just a dream. The fuzzy border of the embroidered cape brushes against my neckline, eyes stare away. A thrill runs down her spine, in anticipation of the delights of the coming evening.

My hands flatten the long skirt as I settle more comfortably into my seat. I await the time to stand up, to show off the long red skirt with gold embroidery, just as wide as the fashion dictates. To walk sumptuously through the main door, to hear us be announced, walking with straight spine and high chin, as the evening begins.

Then to mix with the other guests, to be just another pretty creature in wig and laces whirling around the ballroom, finally enjoying the anonymity of a crowd.

I can see my Husband's eyes have stopped; his attention is drawn on the little triangle of skin the cape fails to hide. My breasts are pushed high by the corset, their fullness lies on the cups, there is no hiding.

My eyes throw a silent invitation in his direction, his stare moves out to the black braided panel separating us from the rest of the world.

A thump and a yell tell we have arrived. The weight of the rower moving the boat to moor makes it lurch. My Husband stands, however bent, and opens the wooden door. 'If you would come along, Milady.'

My hand is raised high on his when we enter, barely touching. The dress moves with my steps like a bell, red and gold attracting envious looks from the other ladies in the hall. But it is due to end soon, the orchestra starts a minuet and attention is drawn elsewhere.

'Perfect timing.' I think when I feel his hand leaving mine. I look at my Husband but he is already disappearing in the crowd. Not a look, not a word.

My eyes scan the people, looking for a face. So many painted faces, smiling eyes and parted lips, so difficult to look for someone in particular. With small steps I move along the hall, my gown brushing against others, my silk slippers making no noise, timid looks exchanged one another with the other guests, 'where is he?' I think.

My nipples harden in anticipation; they look pointed even through the corset. Four tall columns, all in white and gold stand tall at each side of the hall. On top of them the orchestra plays, on a balcony, the light of so many candles shines in the hall and the gold is even brighter.

'Champagne, Madame?' a voice wakes up my senses, pausing before the word Madame. Almost instantly my most private folds begin to moisten. I turn to see my lover, wearing a waiter's uniform and no wig. 'Could you help me?' I ask in return pretending a detached tone.

'I will show the way, if Madame wishes to follow me.'

My right hand slips down the long skirt and grabs a handful of fabric, raising the hem enough to see a silk slipper. My head inclines on tilts to the side and I smile, 'Of course, please do.'

Moving around the guests, my skirts brush against others, like tongues playing a lusty game. Is that what will come soon? Long eyelashes smile, unknowing of everything. Fans move quickly but no fan could refresh the fire burning inside me, the time has come.

We move through a crowd of laces, perfumes, jewels and twinkling things. The waiter moves quickly through the crowd until a reaching a heavy green tent, where he stands to the side with a smirk. The music attracts everyone's attention; I easily slip under the tent, to find a small door with my lover following closely behind.

The small corridor behind the tent is so different from the magnificence of the ballroom. There are just a few lamps lighting the way. His hand holds my side with a possessive touch, I feel his breath on my neck 'I want you.' he whispers in my ear.

And he just does not know how much I want him; my nipples are exploding under the corset, begging release. 'Soon.' is the only word I can speak, my mind is numb I can't think about all that will be expected of me tonight.

His left hand reaches to a door on the side, encountering no resistance. A room welcomes us with the same opulence and golden reliefs of the big ballroom, but with a strange, hot light given by red candles. My eyes stop on the lovers before me.

I see my Husband, naked from the waist down and standing at the side of a rich sofa while pounding a young man bent on the armrest, legs spread, shuddering with each blow. His eyes fixed on the back of his lover; he seems not to notice us. My heart beats so quickly, I could never imagine to seeing such a forbidden scene, his ass is spread and following every move of the big cock torturing it. His eyes are closed experiencing that state when pain and bliss fuse together, I quiver inside with anticipation.

My own lover steps in front of me, a satisfied yet excited look on his face. He bites my neck, shutting off my view of the scene. His teeth dig into my skin. He licks and bites, licks and bite. My nails grasp his back, his mouth moves down to do the same on my breast.

His hot breath excites my skin but we are rapidly divided with a growl. My Husband, now finished with his lover on the sofa, is standing behind him, his cock still hard.

Hands fumble quickly on my corset, letting it hang from my waist. The look on my Husband's face is a mix of revenge and entertainment. His hand pushes on my shoulder, his excitement is so real it can be touched. His big cock is glistening wet from the recent fuck; a quick glance at the sofa reveals he has disappeared quickly.

'Kneel' My Husband says in a whispered growl. I ease myself to my knees offering the scandalous show of my bare breasts on top of the soft meringue my dress has become. My lover, still dressed in the waiter's uniform stands before me; I face his engorged manhood, too tight in the fabric of his trousers.

My Husband touches my head, more a rebuff than a caress. I can feel his impatience growing.

My lover's fingers run through my hair while I unbutton his pants to get to the core of his excitement. His manhood points up before me, engorged, excited and ready. The red head is covered with a neat web of blue veins, I can see them pulsating as I hold it in my hands, contemplating. Both men are looking at my fingers, closing slowly on the hard shaft. Their breathing is held, captured by the excitement of the scene.

I want it. I want that hard cock in my mouth, in my cunt, all over my body...I want it before passion burns me up, I want it to burn me inside like a hot rod. The solidness under my fingers takes my mind back, how many times we have met in secret, and how many times our bodies have been enough to bring each other to ecstasy. My lips get closer to the tip of his manhood, lay a kiss on his wetness and slowly open my mouth.

My red plump lips part, welcoming his cock inch by inch. The shaft lies on my tongue, flat in my mouth and I start moving along his rod.

My right hand helps out my mouth moving along his cock while my left hand fumbles with my gowns, eagerly reaching for my clit.

Music reaches our ears from the other room; the most relevant people in the Republic of Venice are dancing a few steps from us, unaware of what is happening. It is incredibly exciting to think of the Society ladies while I am keeling to suck cock.

My hand fumbles and finally finds a way to free my body from the gowns and be naked. My pale skin gleaming in the candle light. My soft lips sliding along the hard throbbing manhood in front of me.

My Husband moves around and disappears from my sight until a hand with a ringed finger possessively appears in front of me, the family finger. In one swift move he grasps my lover's hips.

Looking up I see desire growing on his face, his eyes closed and mouth open breathing heavily. With his legs parted, my lover holds on to my shoulders. As I let his rod slip out of my mouth I see two pairs of balls getting closer; both my hands pump quickly on his cock. The second pair of balls gets closer and I feel his fingers dig into my skin, a grunt, how I envy him. My hands pump quicker, enjoying seeing the tension in his face, the last straw before his asshole gives up to the invasion, tensed lips, closed eyes and a final grunt of pleasure.

I welcome his rod back into my mouth and my head rocks back and forth from the force of the blows coming from behind my lover. My free hand wander, massaging two pairs of balls, the hairy balls of my Husband and the shaved smooth balls of my lover, both so swollen and ready to explode. My tongue circles his cock, moving into a spiral than sucking hard, feeling his hardness in my mouth.

My lover screams a desperate moan while my Husband fucks him harder, I can see his cock moving out then disappearing from my sight. A punishing cock taking a hold of all his being, like a hot rod, drilling into his bowels to make him shiver, pant, moan and sending him into oblivion. I'm dying to be in his place, to be penetrated and pumped. In a moment I free myself from my lover's hands and kneel on all fours offering him my back and two very eager holes.

My two fingers move frantically on my clit but are distracted by the sharp pain of a big cock pushing into my ass. My lover's hands grab onto my hips and hold them as steady as my Husband's thrusts will allow. It's a quick penetration, quick sharp pain immediately shifting into dull ache, then pleasure as the tip of his cock passes the muscle ring. There is no time; my fingers enter quickly into my cunt, finger-fucking my own slit, deeply tickling my pleasure. I feel it build up, like a wave.

My pain, his pain, our pleasure, it is all fused together. We move with the same rhythm frantically climbing the ladder of pleasure to reach the top. The scent of sex takes over the room, a mix of sweat, man cum and pleasure, if pleasure has a smell of its own. It is pleasure beyond human senses just to be there, my ass filled of cock, that same cock throbbing under the hard pounding of another ripping his ass, the moans, the yells, a whole universe of pleasure.

My body shakes from a pleasure I cannot hold back, a huge red colored wave takes a hold of all three of us, in the light of the candles we shake like leaves with the wind. Our senses are lost in a fog of passion; I am the first to fall from the blows of the two men. My body collapses on the floor and my lover falls on me, my Husband's blows still pounding, then fading like a fog.