Their Private Arrangement (Taskill Witches 1.50)

Higher, between her thighs, she ached to be touched, her puss tingling. Soon he would touch her there, an

d she wriggled under him, eager for it.

Duggan’s fingers roved along the soft insides of her thighs, stroking her until she was in a frenzy of need. His gaze followed, his mouth moving sensuously as if he were enjoying each discovery.

“ Mr. Duggan,” she pleaded, breathless in her urgency.

He responded by throwing her skirts up as far as her waist and staring down at his quarry. “Yes, my lusty wench, what is that you want?”

He was having a jest—it was there in his voice and in his expression.

Morag gripped his sleeve and tugged up on it. The lips of her puss were swollen and hot and wanting to be touched, her cunny eager to be filled.

“Is it this that you want?” He clasped her bared puss with his whole hand, squeezing it firmly.

For a moment she could not breathe at all, then she rocked her hips in his grasp, and that made her craving even worse. Gasping, she nodded. He squeezed again and then pushed one finger between her damp folds.

“Oh!”

“Oh yes, you do want it, don’t you.” His eyes gleamed as he shifted alongside her on the bed. Pushing her thighs wider, he opened her folds with his fingers.

Cool air dashed against her intimate places. Her face burned, being so thoroughly exposed that way.

“You see how her furrow is made for this, James,” Duggan said as he splayed open her puss with both hands.

Morag whimpered, covering her face with one hand for a moment. But she had to know. When she glanced over at the watching man from beneath lowered eyelids, she saw that there was a tense, expectant quality to his expression. Her arousal grew. His hands were locked over the arms of his chair, his gaze steady on them. After a moment he craned his neck as if to get a better look. If she were correct, he was rather interested in what was going on in his bed.

Morag squirmed, for the dual attentions sent her into a wild mood.

“Aye, I see it,” came the reply.

Duggan seemed pleased by that, pausing to admire the place to which he had drawn the other man’s attention, before he dipped down and ran his tongue into its swollen folds.

Morag jerked and arched against the bed, for she felt as if she might swoon from pleasure. She put her arms above her head and grappled for the wooden post at the corner of the bed behind her. Unable to resist, she gripped the sturdy post for purchase, then wriggled her hips up and down, the better to enjoy the strokes of his tongue.

Within moments her release was set, and when it hit she cried out, loudly. Her cunny was awash, hot juices running down between her buttocks. Still Duggan licked her, and when she managed to level enough to glance down she saw that he was also stroking his manhood, which he had freed from his breeches. It was long and hard and damp at the tip. Morag captured her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at it admiringly. It was very large, and she knew it would feel good inside her. She longed for the weight of his body over her and the thrust of that engorged member inside her. Her cunny rippled and she whispered his name beneath her breath when she imagined what it would feel like, having that hard thing in her juice-doused channel.

When he lifted his head to look at her, she saw admiration in his eyes. He held her gaze while his fingers moved inside her. “Good?”

He pressed two, then three fingers into her channel, and she nodded, her hips moving gratefully against the intrusion. Then he glanced the other man’s way, and when he did he held her open with one hand while he plowed into her channel with the other, fingers moving in and out as if they were a man’s member. Each time he thrust, his thumb nudged up against her swollen bud.

“Oh! Oh!” She rolled her head and bucked. His willingness to display her to the other man and his rough approach had disarmed her completely.

“Lord, you are a hot one,” Duggan commented, whispering low, as if for her benefit alone. “I will enjoy being there.”

The promise in his words made her moan aloud, and her hips moved quicker, urging him to use her. Even as her pleasure built, she noticed that Duggan kept looking toward the other man, as if his reaction was important. She was just a diversion, no more. It was what she was used to, but she found that she liked it when Mr. Grant looked over at her bared puss, for it stirred up a fine confusion of feelings—both embarrassment and lust. To see his curious glances while Duggan toyed with her made her feel quite delirious with pleasure.

“She is everything I said she would be, is she not?” His statement was directed to Mr. Grant, but his words made her chest swell.

“I see how well you look together,” Mr. Grant eventually responded.

“Not too distasteful for you then?” Duggan gave a wry laugh as he climbed between her open legs and directed his lengthy rod to her opening.

When she glanced over at Mr. Grant she saw that he had widened his eyes.

“I confess it is a rousing sight,” he stated.

As Duggan took his member in his hand and shifted between her thighs, laying the hard length of his rod against her damp flesh, he looked back at his friend. “I can see that,” he said, and nodded down at Mr. Grant’s breeches.