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“I have a treat for you,” Diana said.

Conor looked at her, drinking in once more the perfection of her form, no matter how she chose to cloth it. “You most certainly do.”

“A special treat,” Diana reiterated.

“I can make any treat special,” Conor retorted. “If you can take how special it is.”

“I can take anything. The one thing I can’t give you is weakness. Those silly little bimbos you whiled away the hours with.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Conor said stolidly.

“I’m sure you don’t. I’m not jealous. I know they can’t compare to me. But you can’t eat steak all the time. Sometimes you just want a hamburger.”

Conor raised an eyebrow at her earthy metaphor. “Then my special treat is to have the sort of one-night stand I had before I met you?”

“Most certainly not. This one-night stand you could only have with me—not least of all because I intend to participate.”

Conor grinned at that, as any man would. “Craving a hamburger yourself, princess?”

“A man of your inclination wouldn’t understand… then again, perhaps you would. After all, you have a great appreciation of the female form. Do you think mine is any lesser?”

“Hah! It would have to be. It’s a man’s instinct to rut and spurt. I’m sorry, but what you do with women is a dalliance in comparison.”

“We’ll see. There are two women who wronged us both in a past life. You’re going to help me, help them to make it up to us.”

“Then it’s to be punishment as much as pleasure.”

“Think of it more as education. We’re going to teach them their place—and how good it feels to be there.”

Conor grunted. “Can’t promise how good it will feel for them. But I won’t go home unsatisfied. They can enjoy that however much they like—it makes no difference to me.”

“Believe me, Conor, that’s just the kind of pleasure these two need.”

***

Anive and Lila were all but identical, their breasts full and round, tilted invitingly up with youth and natural athleticism. Their hips curved sensuously, leading into the shadowy triangle at their cores, the pubic hair visibly soft and glossy, the pink lips of their cunts visible in flashes with every breath. Their legs were long and shapely, sculpted with toned muscles right down to their slender ankles and delicate feet.

“These two have been held for safekeeping on Paradise Island for a long time,” Diana explained. “Immortals. And troublemakers. They say they’ve reformed, but we’ll make sure of that before we let them loose. If they truly want to make up for all the trouble they’ve caused, then Lila, Anive—don’t you feel the need to make us feel as good as you once made us suffer?”

“I’d love to make you feel good,” Lila said, moving up to Diana. “I want you feeling so good you cry tears of joy. Your tears always taste so good, princess…”

Diana gave Conor a look like see what I mean?

Anive barked a laugh. “My sister sometimes misspeaks. Come on, Conor, let’s leave them alone. You and I can talk privately.”

Conor followed Anive into another room of the villa where she and her sister were supposedly ‘imprisoned,’ although most people Conor knew would kill for such real estate. As they left, they heard Lila cozying up to Diana, the heroine solemnly taking in breath in response to her flirtation.

“Isn’t it gross?” Anive asked.

“A little funny, maybe,” Conor said. “I’m sure people have acted less dignified in trying to get Diana to sleep with them.”

Anive served them tea. They sat looking at each other, sipping the rather good blend, in a mutually fraught silence. Anive seemed to be waiting for Conor to ask her some question about their time together in a past life. Conor seemed equally content to pay no mind to that shared history and simply look at her.

Mmmm, Lila…” Diana’s voice drifted in from the other room.

Conor looked over to the doorway to see Lila and Diana slip by—no doubt on the way to a bed.

“My sister,” Anive grumbled disdainfully. “The slut. She’ll let anyone fuck her. The only reason she hasn’t made her way through the whole island is because most of them have better things to do. And she’s so insulted. I keep telling her she’s not a very good lover, but now that she’s bagged Wonder Woman, she’ll no doubt be insufferable…”

“I think it’s more that Wonder Woman’s bagged her,” Conor said.

“You would,” Anive said. “You’re just like her, as I recall. Fucking anything on two legs and maybe some on four legs too.”

“I am something of a leg man,” Conor replied. “But I’m sure I haven’t fucked your sister yet, in this or another life, although I hope to. And I’d love to fuck you. You’re a very beautiful woman and I think we’d both enjoy coupling while Diana and Lila are in bed together.”

Conor had learned a few tricks from Diana and now he tried out her soft-spoken flattery on Anive. To his amazement, she already looked softer, calmer, her irritation transitioning into a receptiveness to his advance.

“That would show them,” Anive admitted. “But I thought you’d rather join in with Diana and Lila?”

“Are you kidding? I’d much rather have you all to myself. You’re prettier than she is… better tits… and I bet you fuck like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” Anive asked, leaning forward to display her breasts to him in her low-cut dress.

It amazed Conor how his guiled words swayed her, especially after she’d seemed so annoyed by Lila cooing to Diana.

“OHHH! Ohh!” Diana cried from whatever bed she’d found.

Anive and Conor looked at each other. Despite how loud Diana was, her moans didn’t strike them as obnoxious. They seemed like one more contribution to the lustful atmosphere, like how Anive’s deep breaths heaved her tits up or Conor’s muscles tensed rhythmically waiting for the woman to allow him to relieve himself of his energy.

“It’s nice to know my sister can do something for whoever’s unlucky enough to take her to bed,” Anive said.

“Diana can be very inspiring,” Conor said. “But I don’t think you would need any amount of encouragement.”

Diana moaned again, louder, more wanton. Her voice touched Conor like a hand between his legs. And he could see Anive felt the same way. She wanted to be moaning like Diana was.

Without another word, Conor went to Anive. She was slumped in a big divan. Conor dropped down into it beside her and she immediately threw her arms around him, taking his tongue into her mouth.

A moment later, Conor had his hand inside her décolletage while she squeezed his hard cock through his pants. As they kissed, they pulled at each other’s clothes until what little was left was just hanging off their bodies.

Conor reached into Anive’s panties and felt out her swelling pussy. His fingers were immediately immersed in her juices. Anive did the same to him, reaching into his boxers and grasping his prick. But a little groping wasn’t enough for them.

Conor threw Anive away from him, the woman mewling in disappointment until she saw he was getting up to throw off what remained of his clothes. Anive did the same with her clinging undergarments and Conor mounted her, their naked bodies virtually melding they were so desperate to touch.

While they kissed, Diana’s moans rippled through the air louder than ever. Conor knew she must be getting Lila’s best out of her. He wanted Anive to cry out like she was answering her sister’s wails. The best way to do that, he knew, was to eat her out. But on his way down her body, he found himself transfixed by her breasts. He sucked on them and Anive moaned gently, with not enough volume to be heard wherever Diana and Lila were.

Conor sucked on her nipples harder, sinking his face into the softness of her chest before hunger for more forced him on. He lowered himself down her belly, dipping his tongue into her navel while running his fingers along the curves of her hips and the tenderness of her thighs. He didn’t dare to finger her dripping pussy. That feel of her on his hand, he knew, would distract him from his mission even more than her tits had.

By the time he got between her legs, she was soaking. Steam seemed to rise off her burning cunt, but that had to just be his feverishly aroused mind. Even a whatever-the-hell-Anive-was couldn’t be that hot.

He gave her his first lick, a long one from her perineum to the tip of her clit, boring down hard on her tightly clasped folds.

“AHHH!” Anive screamed, trembling as her gates opened up to him. Her cry had to be heard by Diana and Lila—probably by whoever their neighbors were too. And with every lick, Anive let out another gasp or cry or moan.

Conor made her sing, answering her sister’s voice even louder. His tongue shoved into Anive’s sex and lashed inside it. She writhed as she moaned, like the utterances were pushing their way out of her body.

Conor had to admit, learning to eat pussy from Diana had made it a quite exciting sex act for him. But now he was getting far more than feminine appreciation out of it. Conor liked the way Anive’s folds felt writhing under his tongue. He liked the expression he saw when he looked up her body. He even liked the taste of her warm pussy, which he seemed to find endless variations in, a new facet of her flavor with every lick.

Moving his tongue in a rhythmic pattern, Conor kept Anive panting and writhing but never too close to orgasm. When her screams became full-throated, he moved his tongue away from her clitoris and fed it into her channel. Then, when her hips started to roll with steady undulations of need, he put his tongue on her button and licked it all over, making Anive shudder in a sea of bliss. But before she came, he took his tongue off her clit again and let her calm down.

“OHHHHH!” Anive groaned as she figured out his intentions for her—keeping her beguiled with addictive pleasure, but only letting her crave an orgasm more and more, never letting her have it.

When Anive stopped moaning to inhale, Conor heard Diana crying out. She sounded as endlessly wanton as Anive did. But Conor noticed that Anive’s joyful cries sounded louder than Diana’s.

He grinned at the thought that he had a better tongue than Lila’s. After however many centuries with only each other to practice on, he guessed they’d lost some of whatever skill they’d started off with.

“My clit! Lick my little clit!” Anive cried, no longer able to stand being so close to orgasm without crossing over the finish line.

Like an orchestra’s conductor, Conor was ready for the big finish. He ran his tongue over Anive’s clit, wiggling it gently. Then faster, faster, making his strokes firmer on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Anive cried out, her chest heaving, lips wobbling as she hyperventilated. Until she was screaming as much as gulping in air, her body quaking uncontrollably. “FINISH MEEEEE!” she wailed.

Conor held her tight and kept at her with his tongue. He loved how she crooned, knowing Diana and Lila were hearing her and being affected every bit as much as he had been when they were making their own sensual song.

Anive was already pumping her hips and quaking all over—now she twisted her body as well. Conor knew she was trying to get her slit away from his punishing tongue. She’d climaxed and she couldn’t take anymore. Her cries were pleas for mercy.

So Conor lifted his head. Anive slowly settled, but almost immediately she reached for his hair and pulled him back between her legs. Conor resisted. Now that he’d satisfied Anive, it was time for his own lust to be sated.

Diana and Lila’s moans had stopped. Conor felt as though he’d won a battle by making Anive shout them down with her pleasure.

He brought his throbbing erection up between Anive’s legs. She opened her thighs, lifting her knees, parting herself for him to enter. As Conor mounted her, his manhood slid effortlessly inside of Anive. He sucked in breath deeply at the feel of her tightness all around his cock, kneading and massaging his length as he sunk into her snug depths.

Unnhhhh!” Anive groaned.

“Yeah,” Conor grunted. “Good girl.”

For a few seconds, he held still in her, enjoying the tender ministrations of her convulsing folds around his member. Then he started rutting her. Anive was still trying to catch her breath from when he’d entered her. Now, with him fucking her, she jerked her hips to match his thrusts.

With her passion at a fever pitch again, Anive met Conor’s strokes. Eagerly accepting his pumping cock into her sex. She was easily as hot as she’d been before, rocketing towards a climax just as spectacular as her last one. Anive’s voice rose again, moaning deeply, richly, at how good it felt to be stuffed so full she stretched.

Conor kept his pistoning nice and easy, letting his lust rise naturally with his enjoyment of Anive’s body, not forcing it by masturbating himself with her slick entrance. Anive was quite a beauty, but not so voluptuous that she could make him lose his head. Conor knew he’d be able to keep his composure until the blinding rapture of ejaculation.

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Shendude

Aww, yisss. That's the stuff!