Savage Land Sex Work 2 (Patreon)

Emma laughed delicately. “You’re welcome to try, but I don’t think you’d be into that, dearie. I’m good, but I’m no miracle worker. No, you want a big strong man to tell you what to do and do to you what he wants. I sympathize. It is a choice experience and Scott is, well… you know I won’t settle for anything but the best.”

Rogue’s lips pinched together. Fucking Emma’s face might shut her up—as much as anything ever shut her up, considering she’d just admitted she liked being put in her place… hell, maybe that was why she acted like such a bitch all the time to begin with.

In any case, Rogue really didn’t want her tongue up her snatch. Not when she could have Scott… wait, did Scott want her? Of course he wanted her, Rogue was hot, but if it weren’t for this damn spell or energy field or whatever it was, would he be giving her this fuck or—

“We’re not wasting any more time,” Scott said. “Rogue, I need you to strip. Take off your clothes now.”

“You’re a real bastard, ya know that?” Rogue snarled, although a part of her was thanking him for taking away all the ambiguity—for just telling her what to do so she could just do this and get it over with.

She untied the waistband of her loincloth, letting the scrap of fabric flutter down her long legs, and then peeled what remained of her top away from her pert breasts. They jiggled as the sweaty garment came loose, giving them a little tug before it let go and setting them into riotous motion.

Rogue didn’t have the lavish opulence of Emma’s triple-Ds, but she had plenty of fleshy heft in her C-cups all the same, jostling around at the slightest movement in all their unencumbered glory. And they were all natural. She didn’t know what difference that made, when Emma’s might well have been inflated by some mutant surgeon with the power to make boobies grow, but mentally she held it over Emma anyway.

Rogue put her jacket on, not that it hid anything. She just felt somehow more comfortable with its touch on her naked skin. Her body was tall and toned and athletic, thighs firm with muscle, belly flat, her breasts just a touch on the excessive side, like the crowning touch on a painting, their exuberance drawing the eye and tying the masterpiece together.

And her wild mane of brown-white hair did the rest. Balanced out how tall she was and how well-endowed she was with curls down to her waist, cementing her as a larger-than-life figure, a force of nature. She definitely felt like she had the lusts of a god.

However horny Zeus had to be before he turned into a swan to fuck someone—that was her.

“You certainly did that in a hurry,” Emma observed. “Couldn’t wait for him to see your stiff nipples? Your juicy pink cunt? My-my… just enough hair on that snatch to show off your second skunk stripe. You know every guy wonders about that…”

“Listen, cupcake—“ Rogue began to hiss, but Scott interrupted.

“On your back, Rogue. I want to see what you’ve got between your legs. Lie down and spread yourself. And if it won’t open, then you reach down and part them for me.”

“I—yes suh,” Rogue said, too stunned to be reluctant or even have real misgivings.

She obeyed, lying down on her naked back, opening her legs wide apart, even canting her hips to shove her pussy at Scott’s red-hidden eyes.

“I want some pink,” Scott said. “All I see now is hair. Open it up. Spread it wide. Show me what I’m fucking.”

Rogue obeyed. It was easy. She knew she could’ve held Emma down and face-fucked her and Emma would’ve taken care of the rest, but it just didn’t feel right to her. Southern ladies didn’t do such things. With Scott now, she felt like she was shacked up in a barn, a stack of hay cushioning her body… with some mysterious stranger robbing her of her inhibitions, just like in a fantasy or a nonsense story a schoolmate told to impress her.

Scott wasn’t that much older than her, but his position of authority gave him an air of experience that, honestly, he had. He would take care of her. And he was enough of a bastard… in his gentlemanly way… to take care of her to the absolute limit. Use her as ruthlessly as she wanted to be. Oh dear God, she didn’t want to be a slut, but if she was a slut for just him…

Scott came down to his knees at her feet. “Emma,” he ordered, like he was calling a dog to heel, and she plucked down a huge palm frond from a tree overhead. By doubling it up and doubling it up and doubling it up again, the blonde made a cushion out of it that she used to prop up Rogue’s ass.

“Now really show me something,” Scott told her.

Rogue wouldn’t disappoint him. Gulping, she spread her sex with both hands, her face livid with humiliation but her breath rushing. One look at Emma’s smug face and she knew her excitement was obvious. Scott, at least, was courteous enough to keep a cool poker face in effect, even as he all but ravished her. Or made her ravish herself, which was worse. Better?

It felt good, at any rate, but it also made Rogue wish he would simply fuck her. Christ, it was the Savage Land! Everyone was in loincloths! What did a girl have to do to get ravaged around here?

“Good. Very good,” Scott said. He still had his air of command, even if he wasn’t ordering her, just lavishing her with praise. It still had his authority behind it. It sounded like he was somehow commanding Rogue to feel good about herself, which she did. Feel good about her body and her cunt and how she was showing it to him… “Now touch it.”

“Touch it?” Rogue repeated, feeling dazed, punch-drunk. Aroused, but not sharply aroused. More to the point of confusion, like she couldn’t believe what was happening to her. Overwhelmed.

“Touch yourself inside,” Scott continued, nodding, with his orders-that-weren’t-orders. “Two fingers. Put them right in. I want to see if it opens up. And move them in and out. Fast. Let me see that you know how to play with yourself. I don’t want it to be a surprise, how all this feels to you.”

Rogue found herself obeying, cringing as she entered herself, then feeling apologetic for the wince of surprised sensation she showed. It had just been so intense! “It hurts,” she lied.

“Like hell,” Emma grinned. “It feels so good you don’t know why you haven’t done it before, why you don’t do it all the time.”

A spark of anger flew through Rogue, pulling her in another direction than where her lust was drawing her. “Stay out of my—“

“I am,” Emma assured her. “I’m turned on enough not to want to dilute it with all your virginal misgivings. But I also know how good it feels to be doing what you’re doing. And those fingers are getting nice and wet, aren’t they? Your cunt’s working overtime. And it’s going to need to be dripping if you want to take—”

“Take your fingers away now,” Scott said, his brisk voice cutting Emma off, silencing her like a kicked dog. “I want a feel.”

Gingerly, Rogue removed her hands. It was insane! Before, it’d felt like such an imposition to touch herself in front of them. Now, knowing what it would bring, it felt like she was further exposing herself to them in stopping her masturbation.

Sure enough, Scott put one hand on her groin, spreading her cunt lips, and with his other hand, he pushed the tip of his middle finger into her opening.

“Oh!” Rogue gasped, suddenly feeling Scott touching her, Scott inside her, and knowing he was feeling her too. “Sugah…”

Wickedly, suggestively, Scott spun his finger around, tickling what felt like every part of her insides. And Rogue knew why Emma went with him, knew how Scott kept that slattern coming back for more and more. His finger was long and thick and Scott knew just what to do with it, all while he stared into Rogue’s eyes, watching her face, seeing every expression and using it to pinpoint what more he needed to do to drive her absolutely wild.

Rogue bit her lip. Her pussy had felt wet before, but now it was like she had an ocean between her legs. She was losing control of her body—it was selling out her mind—but she didn’t know if she wanted to be in control—and before she could figure it out, Scott was thrusting his finger into her and out of her, pushing it as deep as a finger could go.

Rogue gasped and clenched, her stomach lifting and falling while she felt her insides roiling with his finger’s on-again, off-again touch.  “Scott! SCOTT! Ah don’t want her—ah want yew… wanna… wanna know what you do to that vixen that keeps her skank ass in line…”

“Shhhh,” Scott hushed her, barely a grin to show for the pride he took in arousing her so fiercely. “If she shares me, you mind if I share you?”

“What?” Rogue blurted out, less a question than a byproduct of her mind churning to parse what he’d just said to her.

Share him… she supposed Emma was sharing him, at that… but how could they share her? She only had one cunt, didn’t she? And from the bulge in Scott’s shorts, Rogue doubted she’d have any left over for anyone else…

“Just watch,” Scott cooed to her, unable to restrain a whipcord-thin smirk of satisfaction with how well this was going.

Rogue was his friend and co-worker. He had no desire for this sex act, necessary as it was, to be distressing for her in the slightest. But while that was what he was chiefly concerned with, he was also a guy. And he had to allow himself some pleasure with how hard he was getting this hot bitch off.

Christ, I have been dating Emma for a while, haven’t I? he thought as he took his finger away from Rogue and held it out to the anticipating Emma. She sniffed at it in motion, getting a whiff of Rogue’s scent even as Scott rubbed the fragrant dampness across her lips.