“Hi, Lauren,” I said. “Your husband borrowed me.”

“I see that,” she said, smiling. “And you are?”

“My name is Ashlee; I love your work.”

“I’m glad. You’ll make a lovely addition to our gallery,” she replied and again lifted her camera. With that, her husband – whose name I’d still not gotten – pulled my mouth back to his and kissed me deeply. I returned the kiss with equal ardor, our tongues sliding together in a sensual duel. Meanwhile, flashes from the camera were all around us, as Lauren circled the bed to catch us at all angles.

My partner turned me over, settled his torso between my legs and began to kiss my taut belly and chest while running his hands up and down my body. He teased my nipples with the tips of his fingers before devouring my gorgeous breasts with his skilled mouth. Not surprisingly, he worshiped my tits, murmuring “beautiful” and “breathtaking” and other words of endearment over and over as he savored them. Lauren moved in close, the camera clicking rapidly as she captured shot after shot of her husband basking in me.

She moved behind us, and to my surprise, she put down the camera and leaned over, bringing her face and lips to mine. As her soft, pink tongue slipped between my lips, I returned her kiss even as her husband began trailing his mouth down my body.

Lauren moved away again to the foot of the bed. Her husband was now teasing me with his tongue, lapping the tops of my thighs, my belly button, everywhere but where I wanted it most. When he lifted himself up on his elbows and again made his way back to my tits, I was about to voice my frustration. Just as he cupped my face and kissed me passionately again, I felt another pair of hands on my thighs sliding up to the waistband of my skimpy panties.

Soon enough, Lauren had my panties off, and she turned her attention to the boxer-briefs her husband still wore. They, too, were discarded, and now she ran her soft hands up my supple thighs. Just as her husband had done with his tongue, she teased me, massaging, touching, and tickling all over my legs, but never touching my molten core.

I squirmed and looked down, getting desperate to feel the heavy, iron-hard cock pressing against my belly inside me. After long minutes of torture, I finally felt a finger slide up my wet slit. Her husband lifted his hips slightly, and I sensed Lauren’s hand moving to grasp his shaft. She then brought the head to my entrance, teasing it up and down, lubricating his stiff cock with the juices seeping from my swollen pussy.

At last she positioned him and let him push forward. He slid all the way into the hilt, filling me completely, and I gasped with pleasure as he groaned from his own pleasure. I heard the camera clicking again as he began to pump slowly in and out, and I knew that Lauren was memorializing the moment. I briefly wondered if these photos would make themselves to a wall somewhere in the massive house before rapture took over and I began to fuck back in earnest.

“Fuck her, Thomas,” Lauren whispered. At least now I knew his name!

I hooked my heels behind his ass to urge him on, pulling him hard against me as I thrust upward to meet his downward stroke. We fell into a perfect rhythm, his shaft and my sheath, propelling our mutual pleasure. I felt the weight of the bed shift, and I looked over Thomas’s shoulder to see his wife leaning back, the hem of her cocktail dress around her waist, her legs spread wide, her fingers buried in her pussy as she watched her husband plundering my own.

Thomas began to fuck me feverishly, and I could tell by his hastened thrusts that he was about to reach his crescendo. I urged him on, my mouth against his ear, purring (if you’ve yet to hear me purr, you really ought to!).

“That feels so good, doesn’t it? Fill my hot, tight pussy with cum. Fill it up – fill me with all you’ve got. Let’s make a masterpiece for your wife.”

Thomas groaned as he pounded me furiously, and at the same time, Lauren began to moan. I, too, reached the crest of ecstasy, and waves of pleasure washed over me. I felt the gush of Thomas cumming, his hot liquid filling me, as he roared.

At last, all three of us regained some measure of composure, and Thomas slipped to my side. Lauren moved up to sandwich me between them and watched as her husband and I exchanged softer, more intimate kisses.

It was past midnight when we three returned to the party. Shannon was furious, but when she saw the mischievous look in my eyes as I entered the main room with the hosts, she just shook her head and smiled. She knew I’d have a story for her to enjoy when we made our way out of there.

A week later, a large parcel arrived; it was quite heavy.  I struggled a bit to get it inside and up onto the table. I carefully tore open the plain brown wrapping, and when I removed all of the paper, there was a large, framed black and white photograph like those that adorned the walls of the white house.

My breast, a mouth, two delicate threads of saliva still clinging from the opened lips to the hardened nipple they’d just bathed.

There was a card attached, as stark white as the walls of the house it came from. In blood red letters, there were two words beautifully written by a feminine hand…

The Muse

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