Page 52 of Tangwystle
“Legs wider,” I ordered. “Let me see it.”
I wanted to bury myself in her pussy, but I settled for watching her.
She wiggled into position, her pussy on display, and I held an arm out to Baz. He wiped the flour off his hands and walked to me. My fingers curled around his wrist, pulling him into position behind me. His chest against my back, he pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
His hands wrapped around my waist, but I picked up one of his hands, and he knew what I wanted. I couldn’t command magic, but sometimes Baz would let me command him.
This was one of those times.
He released a stream of cool air. It curled through the air, snaking toward Gretel. I knew the moment it touched her pussy because she dropped her head forward, whimpering. It was hardly a feat of magic, but it was just enough to drive an already mad girl toward the edge.
Baz released another controlled breeze, but then I brought his hand back around my waist. I needed him as close to me as possible, and he obliged, his thick cock digging into my back.
“Touch yourself, Gretel,” I reminded.
She kept whimpering and never managed to pick her head back up. Her fingers played with her cunt, teasing her clit, rubbing furious circles.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “You can come. I know you need to, pet.”
Her lips parted, a strangled breath catching in her throat as her body tensed.
Baz tensed too when I used the nickname he always used. It became ours then and there. His muscles relaxed, and I felt the smile on his lips when he kissed my neck again. I liked this coy but clingy side of him.
Gretel’s chest heaved, her tits full and firm, as she nearly slumped over. But I wasn’t done with her yet.
“Such a good little whore,” I cooed. “Now do it again.”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked up, tired and overcome.
“Nasty girls touch themselves and you’ve been very nasty today haven’t you? You should’ve come to us and we would’ve helped. But now you’ve got to take care of it yourself and I know your greedy little cunt wants more. Touch yourself.”
With a deep breath, Gretel lifted herself on her knees and began touching herself again.
“Show me your fingers,” I demanded.
Red-faced, she lifted her hand, showing off the arousal coating her fingers.
“So fucking dirty,” I tutted.
She went back to rubbing her clit.
“Finger inside you,” I demanded, but my words caused her movements to stop. “Now.”
Wiggling on her knees, she tried to widen her stance even more and dragged her knuckle over her folds. Then she forced a finger inside her pussy.
Baz’s hands had started playing with my tits, kneading them over the fabric. Gretel fucking herself wasn’t just for her pleasure.
Fabric rustling, I pulled my dress around my waist. Gretel’s eyes darkened, her pupils widening. I wasn’t as sopping as Gretel, but I was pretty damn close. I grabbed Baz’s hands, moving them down my waist, silently telling him what I wanted. It wasn’t like he needed much direction.
He plunged two fingers into my cunt, and I nearly fell over.
Gretel’s hands worked faster, her hips pushing down, working herself on her own hand.
They spurred each other on.
Baz wasn’t delicate, and I didn’t want him to be. I wanted and needed to come.
Head thrown back on Baz’s shoulder, he held me upright. He added a finger to the noisy mess, his thumb circling my clit. My stomach tightened, and my pussy clenched around his fingers.
