Free Winter's Tale by Emma Holly

marble phallus into her
lips.
    She eased back, her heart pounding. Weren’t
the veins in his shaft thicker? Wasn’t the head more lifted, and
didn’t the crest flare wider?
    Knowing he’d feel her there if he felt her
anywhere, she lapped that most sensitive of curves.
    She could swear the slit was deeper as she
dragged her tongue over it. She brought her hands up to cup his
balls, their roundness inviting her to rub. Her thumbs found the
back of his penis. As they stroked the length of his raphe, her
body tightened with arousal.
    It was as if her flesh responded to the
pleasure that she gave his.
    She backed her mouth off to consider this.
Maybe Hans couldn’t bear for her to stop. His stone cock jerked, a
definite twitch of movement that brought it to half-mast—as if it
were sitting up and begging for more kisses.
    “Oh yes,” she crooned throatily. “That’s what
I need from you.”
    She drove her lips slowly up his shaft. A
little pulse woke inside, his strut now parallel to the ground. He
couldn’t thrust. He could only take what she gave. December kept
her mouth on him now, pushing in, pulling back, warming him with
her tongue and lips and his own helpless responses. She sensed him
straining to get more without being able to move at all.
    She came as close to deep-throating a man’s
erection as she had in her life so far.
    One hand seemed sufficient to play with his
plumped-up balls. That decided, she ran the other back over his
buttocks.
    Though they didn’t give, they seemed to
vibrate as she squeezed them. Still sucking him with her mouth, she
tickled her finger along the crack between his butt cheeks. Up and
down she went, from the dimples at the top, down between his legs,
and forward to his balls.
    How he must have wanted to clench his
muscles, to push his cock farther toward her throat. Or maybe he
wished he could relax. The pad of her middle finger found the tight
creases of his anus. She bet he’d like her to give it more than a
glancing rub, bet he’d love her to push it in to the first knuckle.
He enjoyed her stimulating what she could. She couldn’t have said
exactly when his shaft moved, but it stood higher than horizontal
now.
    She might, just maybe, be tasting the faint
sweetness of pre-cum.
    The hint increased as she sealed her lips
beneath the flare and fluttered her tongue across. A groan echoed
in her head that she didn’t think was hers.
    Come alive for me , she thought. Let
me prove how much I care .
    The veins in his penis suddenly stood out
more. She felt them like little rivers beneath her lips. An image
came to her of hands fisting in her curls, pulling her back from
him. He wanted more than she was giving him. Uncertain if the
thought came from him or her, she knew she had to tear her clothes
off or go crazy.
    She was too overheated to hesitate, gripped
by the fever of wanting him. The buttons of her top seemed to fly
open.
    Belatedly she remembered why she’d come
here.
    “Hans,” she said. “The school librarian has
your names. Her daughter overheard me repeating them in my sleep.
They’ve got a crystal and they’re summoning Queen Araun.”
    Every sound around her fell silent. The wind
dropped away, and the forest creatures stilled. The trees
themselves seemed to hold their breath while he considered this
development.
    “Should I try to stop them?” she asked. “Bang
on the window or throw a rock through it?”
    She wished she’d thought of this before. If
she disrupted their ritual, they couldn’t summon his enemy. She’d
buy time until she could come up with a more permanent
solution.
    Hans didn’t agree. An image of herself being
chucked out of Rackham in her pajamas sprang to life in her mind.
Tall iron gates shut behind her with a clang. Locked out, she
clutched the bars forlornly.
    “I’d find a way back,” she insisted. “I’m
resourceful. I wouldn’t abandon you.”
    Leaves rustled, followed by another picture
of her tearing off her clothes and