Her eyes flew open. “Nooooo!” she spluttered. “Why did you stop?”
Janet sat back on her heels and licked her glistening lips. “Because, dear one, we are going to change position. I shall undress, then we’ll arrange some cushions on the ground for Lachlan to lie on. While you ride him until he spends every drop of seed inside you, he will lick my cunt.”
Marjorie stilled, hardly daring to hope, and below her, she felt Lachlan tense in surprise also. “Inside me?”
“Well, it is the most successful way of trying for a child.”
“Are you sure?” asked Lachlan. “That will be…hurtful for you.”
Janet took a deep breath. “I wish only for your happiness. I understand it is a child that will make you happy, and you have my blessing. Yes, if you succeed I will be joyful, but there will be days that hurt. When I am envious and sad, disappointed and angry that my body always failed me in this one task. On those days I will need special care. Patience and compassion and reassurance that I have much to offer this trio.”
“But you do!” burst out Marjorie. “You are the fire that sparks us. The armor that protects. The wise woman who lovingly nurtures.”
“Nurture?” her mistress looked at her, brow furrowed. “Me? How can you say that when I prefer someone else coddles and comforts the upsets?”
Lachlan cleared his throat. “Not all show love…the same way. Some do with words. Others with touch. But commanders show they c-care…with acts. When they lead. When they resolve. When they teach. When they guide others…safely home. A child needs words. Touch. And acts. They will need you. As we do.”
“Always,” said Marjorie.
“Well,” said Janet, her eyes overbright. “Well.”
“May I undress you, mistress?”
“You may.”
Sliding from Lachlan’s lap—unable to halt a whimper when the movement sent a jolt to her aching, burning center—Marjorie helped Janet remove her hood, girdle, and scarlet gown, then kirtle and shift, shoes and stockings. For a moment she allowed herself the pleasure of just gazing on Janet’s beautiful body, the long sleek limbs, those sweet pale-brown nipples, the tight red curls that covered her mound.
“The way you two look at me,” said Janet softly, “is quite something. As though I am the most beautiful woman in the world, and you cannot wait to worship me. Is that blasphemous?”
“Nay. Only truth,” said Lachlan, taking his engorged cock in hand and rubbing it absently.
Marjorie squeezed her thighs together, aching for the moment she would be stuffed full. For this time, there would be no anxiety of the unknown, no pinch of pain, only pure pleasure.
Janet laughed. “Then let it be known that I am ready and quite, quite willing to be worshipped by you both.”
“If you insist,” he replied, his eyes glinting before arranging several large cushions on the floor to sit on and resting his head on the chaise.
Going up on her toes, Marjorie kissed Janet, sighing in delight when her mistress returned it in full measure, all demanding lips and darting tongue. She could taste a little of her own musky honey, and anticipation swept through her.
Pleasure, together. A child…together.
Wetter than she’d ever been, Marjorie dropped to her knees and crawled to Lachlan. He nodded his permission, his gaze almost black with lust as she took his thick cock in her hands and gently caressed it before flicking the swollen head with just the tip of her tongue, back and forth until she had the taste of him in her mouth. Then, she straddled his thighs and guided his cock to her entrance, dampening him further with her own honey as her greedy cunt welcomed him inside.
They both moaned.
Nimble as a cat, Janet arranged herself to be pleasured with both feet on the floor, her cunt above Lachlan’s face, and her arms braced behind her on the chaise. When she teased him with her bush, Lachlan growled, his chin jerking in an attempt to reach the concealed treat. But today their mistress was in a benevolent mood, and she soon lowered herself enough so he could penetrate her with his tongue.
Marjorie had never seen anything so erotic.
“Ride him, dear one,” commanded Janet, her eyes growing heavy lidded as Lachlan plundered her cunt, his big hands gripping her thighs. “Master that thick cock. And touch your pearl. I want to watch you pleasure yourself. It is one of my favorite things.”
Using Lachlan’s chest and her knees for leverage, Marjorie began to move. The sensation of fullness and his cock throbbing inside her made her gasp, but when her inner walls clamped around him and he bucked, she fully understood her sensual power. Then, as her eyes darted between Janet’s avid gaze and the heady sight of Lachlan feasting, Marjorie slid her free hand between her legs, teasing her pearl as she circled her hips. But soon, far too soon, the urgent need for release overwhelmed her, and she moved faster and faster, rising and falling on her husband’s cock, her fingertips frantically rubbing her swollen pearl.
Janet’s head fell back, and as she ground her cunt against Lachlan’s face, a low scream tore from her throat. Such a beautifully uninhibited sight sent Marjorie over the edge, and a moment later her world splintered, hurling her into a perfect storm of acute pleasure. Her cry echoed around the solar, her release only strengthened when Lachlan’s hips bucked again, ramming his cock deep inside her and flooding her with hot seed.
When she at last returned to her senses, Marjorie found herself cradled against Lachlan’s chest, his arm curved around her waist. Janet lay on her side next to her, rearranging cushions, freeing trapped locks of hair, and wiping Lachlan’s face clean with the hem of her shift.
Marjorie tried to move, but she was so warm and comfortable it was a half-hearted attempt at best. “Forgive me, Lachlan,” she mumbled. “Limbs disobeying.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I shall survive.”
“I hope so,” said Janet. “We
