Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One (8 page)

“
Hold,” she
ordered
, and Emma
delicately acquiesced,
muscling
her anus to a snug radius.

“
Suck, Emma. Really
bl
ow it for us. Make it look
good
.
”

Emma joyously slobbered back
and forth on the oral pecker as Ione
contemplated
her
performance.

“
More
assertive. Sauce it up. Take control.
”
Glancing around she observed slippers everywhere about the camp in
oral connections with each other, helplessly aroused by the sight
of her blond lover rhythmically self-copulating on the big red
blanket.

Emma worked the jape to a
faster rhythm, but Ione grew
increasingly
critical of her performance.

“
You’re
slipping!”

The toy was starting to wiggle in her rectum,
yielding a wayward stimulation at her twat.

“
Grip it! Get your butthole
under control!” Emma burred in frustration, posture softening, lost
all control for a moment, tears welling to oval pools
at
the precipice of
flushed cheeks.

“
Tighten your technique or
I’ll send them away and you can go to bed hungry!” Ione
threatened.

Emma mewled in frustration,
collected herself with a grunt, then screwed her posterior to a
rigid noose,
bracing the jape
to a thigh-trembling immobility. Her abdomen
knotted again, clamping the jape
to
her labia as her mouth resumed fellatio with new
devotion.

Manassa kneed forward onto the blanket for a
closer view, provoking Ione to a reflexive display of
dominance.

“
Choke on it, slipper!”
she
hissed
, fingers
coming to perch around Emma’s knotted,
dusky
nipples. Cram it.
D
eep in
your jaw!”
A tear swam down
one trembling
cheek.

“
Push it… a little farther…
here we go!” There was a delicate
moment as
the bulging, rubbery head of the top cock slid past the
constricting turn at the rear of Emma’s throat into the preciously
personal tract beyond.

“
Good… You’ve done a nice,
deep violation. Now keep him in there and fuck the skulk in your
ass
!
”

Emma warbled promiscuously
around the flaring circumference of the penis in her head, began
to
contract and relax
her midsection
with a raunchy
disregard for whatever decorum remained
.
The phallus in her hindquarters was hidden and visible in hastening
alternation
, and t
he knurled curve swept fitfully across
her
clitoris, a hard-won stimulation
that quickly addicted the vagina.

“
Faster,” said Ione,
agonizing her nipples with both hands to
emphasize the command. “They’re knocking at your doors, Emma…”
she teased with a mean smile. “Who’s getting in?”
Emma compressed her lips around the oral
pecker,
gripped
its
head deep in her throat, desperate to climax but
stymied
by
the devious nature
of
the
toy.

She began to move
synthetically, feet tracing helpless little ovals in the air,
features softened to an ethereal detachment
that
harbinged an imminent loss of
control.
The activities of the camp around
them had built to a noisy passion, but Ione couldn’t be diverted
now.

“
That’s it… let that fat
mast in your mouth out just a little bit so we can admire it. Now
work’em both.
.. It’s suck and fuck, little
slipper!
”

Her lover struggled for this delicate
compromise. “Mmmmmmmssss…” she sputtered around the cock in her
throat.

“
Faster… drink
it!”

Emma sped her effort, but
the precise
ly reconciled
tension necessary for
this
game of self-
excitation was not possible at
such a velocity, and
the jape
began to
lurch
about
on her twat.

“
You’re slipping again!”
shouted Ione, furiously twisting her nipples, and Emma
started
to cry, then
desperately recollected herself to the
act.

“
Harder, Emma!”
T
he jape went almost still on her mound as
the little blond’s wriggling
physiology
dexterously serviced
the penises at either end.

Slippers throughout the camp were shouting in
sloppy imitation now, their first meaningful communications as a
group.

“
Suck! Fuck! Suck!
Fuck!”

“
That’s it!” Ione crooned.
“Now just a
little
faster and one of those skulks will pop for sure…” she
promised.

Emma accelerated a last
time, and the jape began to
fidget
back and forth, caught in
a
rhythmic byplay of her
orifices,
gripping and
slipping in desperate reciprocation
.
A
helpless sound
emerged
f
rom deep inside as the textured
curve
of the toy rubbed away at
her
stiffened
clit
. Ione pinched her nipples to a
liberating agony.

“
Fuck them!” she
screamed
into the noise of the women around
her, happily exacting pleasure from each other in the charged
ambience of their affair. Manassa had risen to her knees, showed a
prominent pink tip at the arch of her freely salivating
labia.

Emma fucked
and sucked
at
the
skulks till her vagina
was swished to the boundary of orgasm in their helpless
supplication
. She was
groaning shamelessly now,
heaving
with the intensity of an uphill sprint as the jape
slid daintily back and forth on her furiously activated
clit.

“
That’s it! Suck, Emma.
Fuck!” The camp women joyfully echoed her cadence.

The pleasure between her lover’s thighs
overwhelmed any other consideration, capturing her limbs to a
perfectly synchronized effort as she satiated the skulks of the
jape, stealing her own gratification in the undertow of their epic
contention.

“
Vuckmevuckmevuckme
mmmmmmmssssss…
” she
burbled on the penis lustily jacking her throat, feet kicking
frantic little orbits as climax stalled her senses, delivered a
long-stymied euphoria at last.

“
Good slipper,” Ione
sleazily intoned, coaxing the culmination through a six of pulsing,
ecstasy-drenched moments.

Shown the way, a woman came noisily somewhere
in the camp, precipitating a ragged succession of blissful
exchanges among her neighbors.

Ione
deftly tended Emma’s satisfaction
,
careful to maintain the nipple-wringing connection that enabled it.
H
er lover
slowed,
halted regretfully at last, breathing chaotically.

“
Stop,” Ione gently
commanded
and
grasped the jape at the middle
,
pleased by its heat.

“
Let go of the
penises.”

She eased the toy from the
little blond’s exhaustively sated
flesh
, set it gently to one side. A
capricious link to their scrambled past, it wrought a sensuous
glyph on the rouge plain of the blanket, Emma’s tricky plaything of
other times, far beyond her own skill to employ.

Her lover sighed, a distant
sound. Ione turned dazedly to regard her and their
eyes locked
, bridging all
distance to banish the world beyond their soft little island on the
grass. She reached for Emma, ready for a second, mutual
pleasure-taking, all dignity of office forgotten.

“
That was the climax!”
Manassa huskily observed. Ione started, blinking.

She lurched to face the
stranger, leering over them from her singular altitude, massive
legs planted wide to boldly present her vagina. It was furiously
aroused, threateningly proximate now, and Ione was suddenly
grateful Emma had just been emptied of lust; a petty sentiment that
instantly canceled her desire.
Manassa
stared down expectantly, ready for things none of them could
anticipate.

Ione opened her mouth to
speak, but nothing emerged to indicate what would happen next.
Clambering
shakily
erect,
she stalked off into the
camp.

The Merkin

Clouds sailed a warm
evening, flung on a ragged spiral across the City sky from a
darkened knot in their midst.
At the center
of the metropolis below a mist-shrouded forest issued an
impenetrable stream of vapor up the altitudes to endow this eternal
thunderhead. A tent-like construction dwelt there, and the Merkin
waited silently within.

He was stylishly
garbed
in a crimson suit
of lightweight linen fluidly proportioned to his rangy physique.
His dark hair was carefully
conformed to a
neat silhouette parenthesizing an intense
visage,
and a whispery fringe issued
in a narrow delta about mobile lips. H
is
eyes were steep, all-accumulating wells of shadow fixed by an
inhibitory glint.
Nimble hands departed
crisp oval cuffs to negotiate the subtlest need, ever restless to
commence. His pink satin tie was ornamented by a fine circular
threadwork and knotted with flawless technique.

The Tent was a totally enclosed domain, one
that he never left, but the Merkin’s fluid imagination constantly
constructed the metropolis beyond it from a knit of old memories
and new intelligence conveyed by his street-walking minions.

One side was dominated by
cylindrical forms thrust
invasively
up to
the sky,
glass and steel buildings washed by sunset hues
where they exceeded the bulk of City architecture. The greatest of
these was
far taller than the others,
exemplar to its kind—the Tower of the Gnomon, wherein one of the
Merkin’s ancient rivals devised and implemented every manner of
invention
—most notably
the gnomes; compact,
blue-hued
creatures reputedly formed in his likeness that
pump
ed
water
,
transported
travelers and lit streets
in such numbers their collective ambience limned the clouds at
night.

Across the City a broad
elevation
reared from a coterie of smaller
foothills
—the
domain
of the Dowser, his other
timeless adversary. H
ouses
and halls spiral
ed
along a wide avenue up this mountain to
a
colossal, domed edifice at
the
summit; his
Club, high venue for appetite and
gratification
, its circular geometry
imitated in form
if not
grandeur
about the lower reaches of his
territory
. Within
,
t
he equally
imposing
Dowser
tende
d
bar
personally, master of flows and distributions and lurid games to
complicate them.

And between them lay the park, where green
things flourished in a warm vapor that thickened to inscrutability
not far within.

The people of the
City
were unknown to the Merkin’s direct
experience, but he was not without influence where they were
concerned. N
umerous
employees in his service staffed clothing boutiques ringing
the park and beyond, the frontier apparatus of a ceaseless
sartorial intrigue; a war on City culture.

By the Merkin’s will, citizens were compelled
to wear clothing in most places, though his control was not
absolute—in the Dowser’s Club and the Gnomon’s Tower people went
totally naked, against all reason or decorum. His jaw tightened at
the thought.

In his fancy
a
harsh clang
erupted
to trouble his
ear, followed by a deep
resonance
. It was the sound of the
Dowser’s
gigantic bucket
,
which hung
at the center of his
Club. The noise
of its smiting
rolled effortlessly down the
hill and onto the streets beyond, bringing word of his
bounty
, and many
who heard it
were diverted
up to his stronghold
.
And around this time of evening the Merkin knew the last
dispersal of sunlight flung a prodigious shadow from the Gnomon’s
Tower, sweeping grandly about the City to forcibly orient everyone
it touched.