Page 3 of The Show (Dirty Little Harlots #3)

What we were doing was…well, it was similar to the kiss we’d just shared. I was kissing her, she was kissing me…and there just happened to be a cock in between us. We both licked and suckled, taking turns to pull him into our mouths, and in between, our lips didn’t leave each other’s.

It was…far better with her mouth on me.

And then my hand went to the man’s thighs to support myself as he began to thrust into my mouth, deeper and deeper, and Madam Eve moved to my side.

Her arms were around me, her hands on me.

Teasing my flesh, tugging at my nipples, making me moan and squirm in ways that had nothing to do with the man using my mouth.

“Arberd,” Edward called from a distance. “I want you to come on her tits now.”

With a grunt, the man pulled his cock from my mouth, stroked it once, and a heavy stream of thick cum—thicker than the last three men who’d used me—spurted from his cock to coat my chest with stickiness.

Madam Eve didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait for the order; she leaned forward to drag her tongue along my nipple, lapping up the spend and moaning as she did so.

Madam Eve's mouth on my breasts was driving me to new heights of arousal. She licked and sucked, her tongue swirling around my nipples, cleaning every drop of Arberd’s release from my skin. I could feel the pull of her mouth deep in my core, stoking a fire that was becoming unbearable.

My knees were spread wide, my body on display for the men who circled us like wolves. I knew I should be humiliated, should hate every moment of this debasement. But my body betrayed me, my hips grinding in empty air, seeking something to ease the ache that was building.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, I dropped one hand between my thighs. I was slick and hot, my folds swollen with need. I stroked myself, my fingers finding the sensitive nub that sent sparks shooting through my body.

The men noticed, their voices rising in crude appreciation. “Look at the little whore, touching herself!” one of them cried. “She's loving this!”

Another chuckled, “I’d wager she's got a hot, tight cunny. Christ, look at the way she’s fucking her fingers.”

Their words should have humiliated me, should have doused the fire that was raging in my body. But instead, they fanned the flames higher. I was lost in a haze of desire, my fingers moving faster, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Madam Eve pulled back, her eyes meeting mine. She smiled, a slow, wicked curve of her lips. “That's it, my dear,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only I could hear. “Take your pleasure. Show them how much you want this. You are the powerful one here, the one they are here to watch.”

I was beyond caring, beyond thinking. All that mattered was the burning need in my body, the tension that was coiling tighter and tighter. I stroked myself faster, harder, my hips bucking against my hand.

The men were shouting now, their voices a blur of crude encouragement. I could feel their eyes on me, their hot, hungry gazes devouring every inch of my exposed flesh. It pushed me higher, drove me closer to the edge.

I was close, so close. My body was taut, my breath caught in my throat…

And then Madam, a knowing glint in her eyes, bent to catch my nipple between her teeth. When she pulled, I burst apart, my orgasm catching me with a sudden gasp. My head fell backward, my cunny convulsing around my fingers as she continued to gently minister to my most sensitive parts.

Around us, the men whooped and called out wagers, but as my pleasure slowly faded and I felt drained, Madam Eve was there to hold me up.

“They are not done yet, love,” she murmured softly into my hair. “But we are giving them a show they will not forget for a long time. They will not forget you .”

To my surprise, her promise made me glow with something that might have been pride. I felt myself leaning into her, desperate for her support and touch, wondering how I had managed to do this without her.

Meanwhile, one of the men called, “What’s next, Edward? I’m ready to fuck her face.”

“Go ahead,” came Edward’s amused tone. “Where should he come?” he asked the rest of the men.

As my mouth was once more filled with cock, I heard the calls around me—around us .

“Paint her tits again! I want to see Madam licking her there!”

“Her face. Come on the whore’s face, let’s see their tongues intertwine, eh?”

To my surprise, I found myself agreeing with their plans, and instead of dreading what this man was doing, I eagerly leaned into him, supporting my weight with his thighs, using my tongue on him whenever I could.

I wanted him to come, to coat me with his release, so I could feel Madam Eve’s tongue on me again.

This man was different from the others. His cock was thick, stretching my lips wide, and he was gentler, his hands guiding my head rather than forcing it.

He tasted different too, a musky scent that was not unpleasant.

I found myself eager to please him, my tongue swirling around his shaft, since he moved slowly.

He groaned, his hips moving in a rhythm that was steady rather than punishing. I could breathe, could control my gag reflex, and found myself enjoying the act in a way I hadn't with the others. I wanted him to come, wanted to taste his release.

When he did, it was with a soft grunt, his body tensing. His cock pulsed in my mouth, his hot seed spilling onto my tongue. I didn’t even try to swallow it, knowing that if I did, there’d be no reason for Madam Eve to put her mouth on me.

And I very much wanted that.

So as he withdrew, I opened my mouth, allowing his release to spill across my tongue and lips, dripping down my chin.

Madam was there immediately, her tongue licking up the trail of cum, her mouth meeting mine. She kissed me deeply, her tongue swirling around mine, sharing his taste. I responded eagerly, my body already growing aroused again by her touch.

We passed his seed back and forth between our mouths, our tongues dancing together. It was filthy, depraved, and yet, it sent heat coursing through me, even as the men around us called out their crude encouragement. I moaned into her mouth, my body leaning into hers.

Madam Eve's hands cupped my face, her thumbs brushing gently against my cheeks as she licked and kissed me. My body was on fire, my cunny aching with need already. I wanted her to touch me, wanted her to make me come this time.

The men around us were shouting their approval, their voices a distant rumble. I didn't care about them, didn’t care about anything but Madam Eve’s touch, her mouth on mine.

When we finally pulled away, both of us swallowing the last of the man's release, I was panting, my body trembling with need. Madam Eve smiled at me, her eyes filled with a wicked promise.

“More, my dear?” she murmured, her thumb brushing against my swollen lips. I nodded eagerly, ready for whatever came next.

With that, she turned, tipping her head back to boldly meet Edward’s eyes. I could only sway, dazedly, my breaths coming in heaving, desperate pants.

“Well, my lord? You have delayed your own release long enough. Where will you be spending?”

Edward didn’t respond to her taunt, instead merely chuckling as he stepped forward. His fall was unbuttoned and he lazily stroked his cock, but with his free hand he gripped my hair painfully, wrenching my head back.

My lips were already parting, ready to accept him…but he yanked me forward. “Get on the chaise,” he commanded.

Confused, I scrambled to obey, climbing up on the piece of furniture, lying on my back with my legs spread wide. Madam Eve followed, perching beside me, her hands not leaving my skin as she stroked and caressed comfortingly.

Edward dropped to his knees between my spread thighs, positioning his cock at my entrance. I panicked, trying to close my legs, but Madam understood.

“A hundred pounds, my lord,” she snapped, her voice clear. “If you penetrate Heather’s cunny, you will pay extra.”

“I know,” growled Edward, and when he pushed inside my swollen, eager folds, I tipped my head back in blissful surrender.

This position was The Falconer and the Oyster, page sixty-three in A Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts. “The woman rests with her back against a surface while her lover stands between her legs.”

But Edward wasn’t my lover ; he was too rough, too demanding as his fingers dug into my hips and his cock slammed into my core. And the book had never mentioned anything like what Madam Eve was doing to me with her tongue on my nipples, her hands stroking me to arousal.

Had the writer of A Harlot’s Guide realized the pleasure possible when another woman touched her like this? Even with Edward’s rough handling, I was arching and panting in need.

“Look at her! She’s loving this!”

I vaguely heard the call, heard the gleeful agreements, and merely tipped my head back, allowing the sensations to fall over me.

Madam Eve's tongue swirled around my nipples, her touch a stark contrast to the rough, demanding thrusts of Edward. He pounded into me, his fingers digging into my hips with a bruising force, his cock filling me completely.

His rough fucking was familiar—it was the source of my ruination, my humiliation—but the rest? Dear God in Heaven, the way Madam was making me feel while Edward tupped me?

I was desperate for more.

Each thrust sent waves of sensation coursing through me, a mix of pleasure and pain that was impossible to ignore.

My body responded, my hips rising to meet his, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Madam Eve's hands roamed my body, her touch soft and gentle, a soothing balm to Edward's rough treatment.

She pinched and rolled my nipples, her mouth moving from one to the other, her tongue tracing a path of fire across my sensitive flesh.