Page 16 of CurVy 13

My eyes roll. Ugh. Crazy motherfucker. He dips down again and suctions my sensitive clit, and I buck to the pace of his deep, thorough penetration.

That’s when the humming starts again, and his fingers and thumb seem orchestrated to the beat. He’s playing me; my inner walls, the keys, his humming, the composer.

It’s a gentle, soft motion at first, then it intensifies, each movement more pronounced, prouder, demanding.

My pussy ripples. The way he commands the sensation is flawless—harmonious.

Everything tightens. His humming matches the brewing of desire, the rise of heat, the ebb of shame, the need to come.

A skilled pianist can navigate keys to create an unforgettable musical experience, and Tyler is harmonising the penetration into both my holes with a wicked tongue lashing at the end notes.

Then he strikes with full force.

His humming peaks as though he’s letting loose on the keys, the play cresting, his fingers fucking me hard, hitting every spot with perfect precision until my entire body seizes, and he pounds the final chord to my high cries.

Stars blanket my vision.

I shudder the sensation out.

It seems to go on and on…

“You’re a mezzo-soprano when you climax for me.” He licks me softly. “That’s the perfect range for your pleasure, baby. Soothing and long.”

Reeling, I lift my head and gasp.

Donnie casually stands in the doorway, his long arms stretched up, gripping the overhead frame. His biceps frame the metallic mask, and it’s a thing of nightmares.

My breath hitches.

The mask tilts in that eerie way. “Do you like it when my brother licks your pussy, Pup?”

Be smart.

Slowly, with feigned reluctance, I begin to nod. “Yes.”

The mask just stares at me.

What the fuck is he thinking?

He knows, Vallie.

He’s onto you.

My pulse races. And I feel a stirring between my legs as Tyler licks me softly and Donnie just stares; both press their energy to my skin.

Donnie breaks the moment. “I think you’ve tasted her enough. We need to feed the puppy, Tyler. And she needs a good night’s sleep, so no one has any reason to be concerned about her tomorrow when she is a very good little thirteen.”

Tyler lifts his head and smiles at me as though we are lovers, and this is just another day. “What do you wanna eat, baby? Donnie can cook everything and anything.”

Donnie clears his throat.

I arch an eyebrow, not expecting that. I imagined them as monsters who lurk in the dark, kidnapping children and women, but a pianist and a food enthusiast?

I would’ve never guessed.

Lifting my knees, I band my legs with my arms, cuddle my breasts and tummy, and concentrate on my body for a moment. I’m okay. You’re going to be okay. “I’ll eat—”

“Don’t say you’ll eat anything,” Donnie states, his voice even. “No one eats everything.”

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