Lyda's appearance only added to the lust saturating the environment. She'd changed into another short robe. This one was sheer gray gauze except for the satin ribbon hem and edgings. As the fabric floated around her, she revealed tempting shadows of her naked, inaccessible body. Sitting at the head of her dining room table now, she had a graceful leg hooked over the carved arm of the chair. The loose neckline highlighted the full crescents of her breasts. Occasionally she let her fingers drift down to stroke between her legs. They couldn't see below the table, denied the view.
Gen didn't have to wonder if it was all driving Noah as wild as it was her. He looked like he was carrying a steel piling between his legs, whereas her arousal was free flowing down her thighs, things Lyda noticed and commented upon with crude pleasure, making them bo
th crazier.
Lyda had been right about the whole thinking thing. There was no room in Gen's mind for anything but clumsily coordinating her movements with Noah's, the two of them working together to prepare the food the way Lyda instructed. Just one setting. Lyda wasn't letting them eat first, calmly stating they were her entertainment.
When Gen put the plate before her, her hand trembling under the sensual duress, Lyda motioned to the floor. "Kneel here. Forehead touching the wood floor, ass in the air. Noah, stay where you are."
When Gen complied, Lyda pulled the dual-headed vibrator free, slow and provocative, making Gen moan. "You're close to coming again, aren't you? Shameless girl. And you came the last time without my permission. I obviously need to make it clear who's in charge here."
Gen cried out as a spatula hit her backside. Lyda had pulled the metal utensil out of the pan that had the spring rolls and fried rice in it, so Gen felt the splatter of warm oil and what was probably rice slide down her buttock. The spatula had slats in it that stung like hell. "Now you've made a mess to clean up." Lyda tsked. "Noah, kneel behind her and take care of that."
With her head down, Gen saw him move into place. With his arms bound shoulder height, he had to tighten thigh and stomach muscles in a delicious way to lower himself to the floor, lean over Gen. When his mouth closed over Gen's flesh, she could feel him quivering from the strain. Or maybe that was because of the state Lyda had inflicted on them both. Her breath became more erratic as he licked off the oil, ate the bits of rice. From the sound of a buckle being unfastened, and his sudden jerk, Gen suspected their Mistress had removed his cock harness and dildo also.
"That's plenty. Your tongue is a napkin, not her fucktoy. Not until I say. Go lie on your back on the living room floor."
Lyda curled her hand in Gen's hair, pulling her back up to her knees. She held her so Gen was staring at Noah, watching him kneel and then roll to his hip and back. He managed it with some difficulty, probably due more to the turgid state of his cock than navigating with a spreader bar. He was agile enough to navigate seas rough or calm. If only he could develop that same balance in his head.
Fortunately, Lyda had the right strategy to get them thinking about other things.
"Gen, go straddle his face and take his cock in your mouth. I want to watch him eat your pussy while you go down on him. You can come whenever you're ready, but he has to wait for me to give him permission. You keep sucking his cock while you climax. Don't let up until I say stop."
Gen gave her a desperate look. "Mistress--"
"I'm not in the mood for talking. Unless you're in pain or you need the bathroom, I only want to hear more of those sexy little moans or pleading whimpers."
Lyda's stare made Gen drop her own gaze to the floor. How on earth had she reached the point where all of this felt so...right? But she'd known it today when she'd kissed Marguerite. She'd reached a turning point. She definitely wasn't as extreme as Noah, but she responded to Lyda in ways that were strangely liberating and overwhelming. This, a session-like moment, felt perfectly right. Just like sitting with Lyda on the stoop, talking like equals about Noah's well-being, had. Was that how it worked, figuring it out over time, the power exchange?
"Do I need Marguerite here to get you to move your ass, Gen?"
Gen started as the spatula hit her thigh. Though she gave Lyda a narrow look for the verbal jab, it was a surreptitious one, and she scampered to do her bidding before Lyda could think of another way to stretch her to breaking. The woman probably had a rack hidden somewhere to make the thought literal.
Lyda wasn't letting her off the hook for that nasty look, though. When Gen glanced her way again, Lyda's expression froze her in place, reminding her she hadn't answered. She dropped her gaze again. "No, ma'am."
"Better. Do what I told you to do."
Gen straddled Noah's face, another little quake going through her at the proximity of his mouth to her pussy, the vivid memory of what he could do with his tongue, and the intent, hungry look in his eyes. She planted her knees on either side of his face, congratulating herself for not landing on him in an uncoordinated heap.
She slowed herself down as she stretched out over his body, aware Lyda wanted to savor the visual. Noah turned his head to nuzzle her inner thigh, making her pussy throb, anticipating. She forced herself not to wiggle, which would be a blatant attempt to direct his mouth to where she wanted it. But Lyda took care of that.
"Don't play with your food, Noah. Eat her pussy, and be ruthless about it. I want her begging for mercy."
Gen was realizing the word "ruthless" was some kind of trigger for Noah, one with a devastating impact on a woman's senses. He immediately turned that clever mouth and tongue stud on Gen in a way that had her fighting to give him a tenth of the screaming roller coaster ride he was giving her. Screaming was the key word there. He took her up to the highest peak in a matter of seconds and pushed her over.
When she was finally gasping through the lingering vibrations of that climax, squirming against his face, she told herself that wasn't so impressive, given how aroused she already was.
But then he did it twice more.
He called the first time a "hummingbird", the second time "rain storm". If she'd had any brain cells left she might have joked at the Kung Fu of it all, but after the third time she was ready to be dubbed Grasshopper and become a slavish devotee to that mouth.
He knew how to back off, calm down those jittering nerve endings, and restart them. He taught her every part of a woman's cunt could be a starting line for a climax, that it didn't begin and end with the clit. He used that knowledge to obey Lyda's demand for ruthlessness. The third orgasm was a hard, punishing torment that made Gen's vision gray. Just as Lyda predicted, it had Gen crying for mercy.
Lyda still made him do it to her one more time.
Gen came down from that one trembling, tears running down her face. Actually "coming down" was a misnomer. She'd started out so depleted, she'd been unable to do anything but press flat against him and moan through the stimulation, beginning to end, her pussy at the mercy of his mouth. Thank God Noah was back to nuzzling her thighs, Lyda at last giving her a break.
She'd tried her best to torment Noah the same way, but her biggest accomplishment had been keeping her mouth moving on him throughout all of it. She'd sucked that thick shaft deep, shrieking like a banshee against his flesh. Though she'd managed not to bite him during the throes of orgasm, she'd scored him, reveling in the way his thighs twitched, hips kicking him deeper into her mouth.