Giving Her Host The Most update (Patreon)

He went over to the sofa and knelt before Mab. She put one foot up over the sofa’s back and the other on the floor. Her cunt spread underneath her pantyhose, calling to him.

“Go ahead,” she said, “touch it. I promise it’ll be just as good as the last time.”

Harry reached up and lightly ran his fingers across her labia. She sighed and Harry felt his excitement quake within him. He fingered her vulva, then rubbed it softly with his palm.

“Your queen wants a good licking,” Mab purred, gesturing his face closer and closer to her lap. Finally, his lips met her flesh, kissing her through the pantyhose, tasting the sweetness of her juices along with the finest of the silky material that made up her fabric.

He looked up at her. “I want to get these clothes off of you, majesty.”

“Go ahead,” Mab said, thrusting her hips out to him.

“It will damage them…”

“Bite through them! Rip them off me!” Mab ordered, and Harry knew he didn’t have a choice even if he wanted one.

He bit into the pantyhose over her thigh, pulling back on it until the material ripped. Then he grabbed hold of the ragged edges and pulled hard, tearing it all the way to her crotch.

“That’s it, find your way to my pussy,” Mab cooed, directing his head to her other thigh with a wiggling point of her forefinger. “I should have these made stronger… it’s always such fun to watch you exert yourself, Harr-eeee…”

He bit and pulled, ripping her sheer hose enough to get a grip on it and shred it all up and down her legs. But there was still the seam that ran along her crotch, a final guardian to that beautiful sex of hers. Harry took it in his teeth, grinding the points together to make sure of his hold, and pulled.

“Good boooooy!” Mab cried as he came away with the last remnant of her modesty clasped between his teeth. He had taken out a few of her pubic hairs as well, but Mab didn’t seem to mind some pain to go with her excitement.

And Harry couldn’t say it didn’t thrill him to inflict a little. Mab wasn’t quite a baddie, but she had no problem with complicating his life in general and enjoying his flop sweat in particular. It felt good to get back at her some, even if she enjoyed it. He spat out the last of the rent silk, looked at her full, lavish pussy, and drove his head between her thighs.

Mab opened further, pushing her hips up. Even though this wasn’t Harry’s first time—not even his first time with her—she still endeavored to be a good teacher. “You don’t always have to kick the door down, dear boy. Spread my cunt with your fingers,” she moaned, feeling him lick up and down her cunt lips just like a slavering wolf.

Harry moved his hands as directed and splayed Mab’s labia open. He was fascinated, not having exactly had much time to get a good look on the previous occasion. Mab’s sex wasn’t red or pink, but varying shades of blue, silver, and white. Her hard little clit was a sharp gleam of turquoise, while the soft, velvety lips could’ve been worked out of silver. The fine, sparse hair of her thatch was pure white, like snow settled over a winter field.

“Now put your tongue in and work on my clit. We can forego the pleasantries after the show you put on, but tread lightly. I’m not one of your bimbos and at all times, you must remember that you’re here to please, not to taste!” Mab ordered crisply.

He obligingly put his mouth to her slit, letting his tongue slide out and glide against her opening. To Harry’s relief, his memories were correct. She wasn’t at all the ice sculpture she looked like. Her passage had a crisp warmth he couldn’t quite describe—like the almost-heat of freezing ice, but without the sting.

Her folds hugged his tongue lovingly while he pushed into her, feeling for the stiffness of her swollen clit. He found it, started toying with it, heard Mab moan and sign in pleasure… and as Harry did, he thought about Lloyd Slate.

Had her last Winter Knight done this to her? Had he managed to please her? Had he failed? He wondered if Mab even cared for this, or if it was one more indignity she was foisting on Slate, on his memory. Letting his successor have what he’d wanted but never gotten, maybe.

Mab pulled on his hair hard enough to hurt. “Your predecessor’s cock wasn’t as big as yours. He liked a finger in his ass. I liked getting fucked in the ass, but he wouldn’t do it, and I spoiled him by allowing that. Now, do you have any other questions or would you be so good as to focus. On. Your. Work?”