Chapter 5: Musical Appreciation
The smoke from the cigars filled the room as the wealthy, mainly portly, men, sat back in plush leather armchairs and watched the gyrating girl slowly strip down to her skin. The music was Neil Sedaka’s “Song, Song Blue”, just right for the tempo of the girl’s movements. And the mood of the watchers.
She approached one of them and, sitting on the arm of his chair, took his head in her hands and pulled it towards her firm, round breasts. He held his cigar in his right hand as his left moved downwards and caressed her naked thigh. She smiled and fed her nipple between his lips until he was suckling on it like a baby. And like a baby he wanted more. With a groan he opened his mouth as wide as it could go and with a loud sucking sound drew in a third of the creamy white skin. The girl smiled like a painted doll and began massaging her flesh trying to get more into the gaping cavern. His cheeks bulged and his breath whistled through his nostrils as he struggled to breathe. With a sliding motion his hand, not losing contact with her body, slid across from her thigh to her wet, glistening cunt as it began to throb within her. Causing her to clench and unclench her stomach muscles as the sharp barbs of strung out nerves responded to the rubbing and insertion of his fingers.
The others watched transfixed, as they saw her eyelids droop slightly as her emotions slowly began to take over her body. Some of them had released their cocks from the confines of the expensive suits they wore and were lazily pulling and stroking their flaccid flesh into rigid hardness. They watched as the girl pulled her left breast from the man’s mouth and they watched as one of the servants took his cigar from his right hand. She slid her body onto his lap with both legs, spread slightly apart, draped over one arm of the chair and her back supported by the other. As the music came to an end she began unbuttoning his blue striped shirt.
His fat, flabby torso exposed, she placed her face against the bulge of his belly and dragged her tongue upwards to his own, smaller, breasts. The breasts of age. With a quick movement she took his nipple in her own mouth and suckled on him, as he had on her. All five of his fingers and part of his hand had disappeared into her widening cunt.
The soft opening strains of Ravel’s ‘Bolero’ became audible.
She nibbled gently on his perspiring skin and heard ataşehir escort bayan the laboured breathing as the man began to move his large buttocks against the leather of the chair. He cradled her shoulders with his right arm and stroked the back of her head, as her movements became more urgent. He cuddled her as he would a child. She pulled his shirt roughly from his trousers and with both hands unzipped him and grasped his hard cock whilst leaning forward again to nibble his bulging stomach. She went lower still until her mouth filled with his greying pubic hair and her position made her own breathing difficult. Sopping wet and with her cunt lips enlarged she slid off his lap to the floor. Her knees resting on the thick pile, deep yellow carpet.
Bolero’s ra-tattatat-tat rhythm grew louder as she lowered her gaping mouth to his thick penis and engulfed it to the back of her throat. Her tongue twirled, her cheeks caved and her warm breath blew over his loins. He took her head in both his hands and pushed her down further onto his straining organ. Then as the music built towards its crescendo he forced her head down and up along his shaft until his sperm hit the back of her throat and gushed into her gullet. She struggled but he didn’t release her. He forced her head down as far as it would go giving her no opportunity to spit the sperm out or to draw breath. She did what she could but small white bubbles still formed at the entrance to her nostrils, burst, and ran in two streams over her upper lip.
With one final long climax, the music and the man, came to an end.
He released her.
She stood up cleaning her chin with her fingers then inserting them into her mouth to get rid of the stickiness. She went up to another of the sitting men.
“And what is your pleasure sir?” asked Kristen in a soft, slightly hoarse voice. Her hair had been cropped short and her face heavily made up. She looked like a China Doll seen in gift shops. “Would you like to fuck me in my cunt or fuck me up my arse. I am here for your pleasure. Perhaps you would like me to drink your spunk?” Her words, along with the performance he had just witnessed increased the man’s sexual urge.
“No, not me.” He replied. “Them.” And he pointed to three tall muscular black men standing along one of the walls. Kristen looked at them and said, “Of course sir and what music would you prefer?” “Tchaikovsky’s 1812” escort kadıköy came the reply. One of the servants went over to the CD player.
The three men stripped and came to the front of the room.
Upstairs in a small office Simon Broadway watched the performance on screen as one of the huge muscular blacks lay on his back. Simon sipped his whisky as he watched Kristen straddle him, her knees nestling into his sides as she took hold of his thick penis and fed it greedily into her hard working cunt. Simon smiled and admired the way the man gave a soft groan and lurched his thighs upward, firmly embedding himself into the girl. As he saw the man begin soft thrusting movements he leant forward slightly to turn up the volume. Strains of the Marseillaise reached his ears.
Behind Kristen one of the other two padded up behind her and dropped to his knees. He reached out and began kneading and stroking her round buttocks. Kneading them into soft pliability. The music began its journey across the Russian steppes as Napoleon’s army marched on Moscow. The man’s fingers made a journey of their own through Kristens anal ring and into her rectum. One, two, three and finally four rigidly held fingers began to arse fuck her as the cock on which she was bouncing re-appeared then disappeared into her sopping vagina in a constant, slow fucking motion. As the music grew more insistent he slid forward and forced his prick into her dilated anus. Kristen groaned and paused briefly as she felt the thick, long hard penis slide up into her bowels. She felt the two of them inside her, separated by only a thin membrane, move as one. Increasing their rhythmic speed to the tempo of the music. Then she began her own fucking movements once again.
Humming to himself along with the music, Simon poured himself another whisky into the crystal tumbler.
The third of the trio knelt in front of Kristen’s flushed, sweating face and with no preliminaries, thrust hard to slide into her mouth and down her throat. The four of them worked as one. In and out of Kristen’s body the men thrust as she squirmed and bucked as best she could between the three male bodies. Simon took one more sip and turned up the sound to full volume just as the long violin down run began. Exactly in time the four bodies went wild. The men fucked and buggered the girl as she sucked and drooled against a mouth raping cock. Her breasts were mauled and bostancı escort her buttocks slapped hard as down and down and down went the musical descent. Her short hair was grabbed and pulled and her face was rubbed. Everywhere there were hands from her three invaders trying to become even more united with her body. Then as the canon fire filled the room and the Marseillaise once again boomed from the speakers, the spunk from the three invaders shot in violent spurts into her three, gasping, clutching orifices.
Kristen jerked and bucked even harder as she felt the internal drenching. Her arse, cunt and throat clogged with the cum of three men and then she too, reached her climax, just as the final strains of the French national anthem deafened them all. They broke apart in one swift movement. The men grabbed and squeezed and clutched any part of Kristen they could as their still spurting cocks covered her body with white sticky deposits as she thrust her own fingers into her cunt trying desperately to prolong her orgasm for as long as possible.
And as the music finally came to a crashing climax, Kristen too screamed aloud her passion to the watching men.
Simon quickly finished his whisky, turned off the screen and went downstairs to the Music Room. As the men filed out he bade them all goodnight and then entered the room, walking up to where the heavy sound of Kristen’s breathing told him that she was still in the dying throes of lust.
“Alright Kristen, that’s enough now” he said.
“Yes Simon” Kristen replied as she rose to her feet, panting only slightly as she began to regain her control, “what do you wish me to do now?”
Simon smiled slightly. Despite all what the girl had experienced in such a short time she still had the air of an innocent. There was a cuteness about her that captured men from the beginning. Even now, painted like a China Doll, dishevelled and covered in the emissions of men’s cocks she radiated a youthful freshness.
“There is nothing further for you at the moment,” Simon replied, “go and have a shower, thoroughly clean yourself both inside and out and get rid of that makeup on your face. I will see you in the morning”
“Yes Simon” she replied and left the room to go up the wide stairs of the elegant 18th century town house.
The servants began re-arranging the room.
Simon went across the corridor to the library opposite and sat down in an armchair. For a long time he looked out of the window. He gazed at, without seeing, the lights in the buildings on the other side of the square. His thoughts were centred on Kristen. He had a lot to think about.
It was going to be a long night.