Page 53 of Tangwystle
Gretel came at the same time, her mouth wide open, her hips rocking. A sob tore from her as she fell forward, her forehead against the cool floor.
“Good girl,” I praised sleepily. Baz continued to stroke me, claiming every little jolt of pleasure. “Gretel.”
The name made her lift her head.
“Come on, pet,” I said. She frowned and shook her head, wet tracks down her face.
Baz sighed against the crook of my neck and shoulder, his arms still tight against my waist. He pulled me impossibly close, rubbing himself against me.
“You wanted to touch yourself,” I reminded Gretel. She shook her head. “Don’t pretend to be a good girl now, pet. You’ve made a mess all over the floor. You’ll have to clean it up later.”
Her brow wrinkled.
“Yes, you know how,” I told her, swaying in Baz’s arms. “But right now you’re going to touch yourself again. You’re going to make yourself come again like the dirty whore you are.”
It’s one of my favorite memories. How red her cheeks were. How her tits jiggled as she moved. Baz kept rocking his cock into my backside, and I don’t think I fully processed his pain. I was too wrapped up in this scene. In calling the shots and saying nasty little things to Gretel, with her blonde curls shaking.
Hot, frustrated tears dripped down her cheeks. Her hands worked her cunt again. I squeezed Baz’s arms, unsure how none of us combusted that day.
She came for a third time with a strangled cry, falling forward.
And that’s when I noticed the stickiness seeping into the back of my dress.
I turned around, Gretel’s pants filling my ears, but otherwise static swept over my skin.
Baz, tortured and breathing heavily, stared at me. My eyes glanced down, and I realized what happened. My hand reached for him, but it hovered in the air. It was too late anyway.
He’d worked me up, but I’d left him entirely on his own.
At least that’s what I thought when I faced him. He could’ve taken my hands and directed me to him or forced me to my knees. I’d have willingly helped, but the truth was I felt more in control saying dirty things to Gretel. A shyness lingered between us because he never pushed me, and I didn’t know how to step forward.
I remember swallowing and realizing how sweaty and tired I was. Baz knew it too. He ducked his head, stepping back. “Take care of her,” he said under his breath. It was an order to me, but he had one last demand of Gretel. Clearing his throat, he told her, “Underwear off.”
This whole time they’d remained around her ankles. She took the bunched fabric, depositing them in his outstretched hand. He pocketed them and then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
And then lumbered out. I stood there watching his backside and thinking he’d remained entirely too clothed during our little event.
Slowly, I turned back and understood that I needed to close this out.
“Clean it up,” I said, my voice quieter, but firm.
Gretel stared down at the floor, at her arousal coating the recently polished stone floor. She sank down, lapping it up as I watched over her.
“Come on, pet,” I murmured and helped her up. Baz could easily carry her, but that wasn’t an option for me. I tried to prop her up as much as possible, and we shuffled to the stairs. “You think you can make it up?”
It’d been days since we’d slept in the little room under the stairs. Baz’s room was ours now.
Gretel murmured under her breath. Slowly and steadily, we climbed. When we got to the room, the bath had already been run, and the faint smell of lavender floated in the air.
I helped her into the tub, pulling her curls into a bun and letting the water splash on her.
“Join me,” she said sleepily.
I did, but I told myself sternly it was only because I also needed to clean off. I settled behind her, pulling her to me. She sank back, her head leaning into my chest.
“You punished me,” she said in that same soft tone.
I held back a snort. “I’m fairly certain you liked it.”
