Free Her Master's Voice by Jacqueline George

and down his shaft with the other, sucking on him and releasing with the same rhythm. Quickly he began to tremble and lifted his hips to her in an effort to increase his pleasure.
    He was eager, hurrying her on, but Sherry did not want to rush. She slowed her stimulation to a stop and soothed him by playing with his balls. She felt him relax a little. When he lay completely still, she commenced sucking and stroking again, this time very slowly. She pulled very firmly down on the skin of his shaft, and tightened it even more at the end of each stroke by twisting her fist sideways. He began panting again and groaning each time she tightened his sheath to the limit.
    Sherry had become excited herself and moving slowly was increasingly difficult. Without really wishing to, she nodded her head slightly and he helped by rocking back and forth in her mouth. He was moaning loudly and trembling. She could delay no longer. Her sucking and stroking became faster and firmer and they both knew his explosion was close and unavoidable. The tension was growing, growing in his roots.
    Then suddenly, he came. She quickly gripped the head of his cock between covered teeth and bit him with hard rapid bites, sucking deeply and drawing out his essence. His legs clenched around her, his hips arched up out of the chair, and he pulsed great bursts into her mouth. In her hand below him, she felt the ferocious spasms in his depths as he released his burden for her. She sucked him back into her wet mouth and held him still as the tension washed from his body.
    They waited like that, joined by his stem and the pleasure they had made. His hand came up to stroke her hair and release her. He pulled himself up in his chair. “Wow! That was fantastic. Ranji, you have a very fine student. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
    “She has a natural talent,” Ranji answered happily. “She’s a real artist.”
    Sherry felt herself blushing and looked at the floor. The man was looking at her with something in mind. “Does she, do you do more, Jane?”
    Avoiding his eye, Sherry shook her head. “No,” said Ranji. “One thing at a time. First flute-playing and then we’ll see.” She moved to put her arm around Sherry. “You did very well today. I’m very, very pleased with you.”
    Sherry remembered how she had cringed at Ranji’s compliments. She had not imagined being an oral sex star as part of her educational qualifications. She still did not feel comfortable about it, although she did feel much better in her yoga classes. Ranji had told Papi Bombar about all her lessons and he knew she was ready for him now. She looked forward to her chance. She would steam up his glasses for him.
    What she had not planned for was meeting one of her flutes in her other life. Singapore was a big city, and all the flutes belonged to visitors anyway. She had dismissed out of hand the fear of ever meeting one, and now it had happened. Thank God Alistair did not seem to recognise her. She had almost missed him herself, but something about his eyes and his smile. He apparently knew Ranji and her father. Did business with them. I wonder what sort of business, she mused?
    They enjoyed the dinner. Alistair sat Tim between Faith and Hope and devoted himself to Sherry. The food tasted exciting, the wine was good, the moon river shone silver across the sea. Sherry found herself watching the girls closely. Not teenagers, early twenties she guessed, they were small and lightly built. Narrow Indonesian hips, and small breasts. Their skin was brown. Perhaps, unlike most Indonesian girls, they did not feel the need to hide from the sun. They looked identical, dressed in the same clothes, wore the same make-up, and they were equally cheerful. They could not be persuaded to drink alcohol—they they said it made them sick—but they did not need it to be outgoing and noisy. Of course, Tim loved the fuss they made of him.
    Poor Tim, thought Sherry. She knew he would like to