Free Star Slave by Nicole Dere

made no effort to stop her. The gown opened, and Magda brushed it from her shoulders. The firelight bathed the slim body, while Felicity stood there, enchantingly modest, her hands moving in front of her loins.
    â€˜I thought his lordship was going to have a go,’ she said, her face troubled. ‘You know. Try to get me to... to sleep with him tonight.’
    â€˜And would you mind, sugar?’
    Felicity registered her outrage. ‘I’m not a tart, you know,’ she cried, her voice shrill. ‘I don’t sleep around. I’ve a fiance, and we’re going to be married...’
    â€˜And Stella Priest,’ Magda said easily. ‘You’re shacking up with her, aren’t you? Doesn’t your boyfriend mind about that?’
    Felicity’s face and throat crimsoned. She looked at the tall figure helplessly. ‘He doesn’t know,’ she quietly admitted. ‘He’d be horrified. I didn’t mean it to happen.’ She pulled a face of youthful misery. ‘It just sort of... I meant it earlier, what I said. I’m not really gay. It’s—’
    â€˜Weren’t,’ Magda prompted gently, drawing forth another blush. ‘What you really mean, sugar, is that you’re hi. You swing both ways.’
    Felicity gazed at her. She made a little gesture of uncertainty, her confusion mute this time. The soft glow of the gas lit her slim young body, showing the little dark patch of her pubis. Tears sparkled in her dark eyes.
    â€˜You can have the best of both, baby,’ Magda breathed sensually. As she spoke, she untied her own robe, and Felicity gave a gasp of shock, for the superb figure was magnificently naked, except for a small black triangle fitted snugly to her loins, from which a thin strap snaked round both hips to meet the equally slim strap which appeared from the cleft of her bottom. From the centre of the triangle, which seemed to be made of shiny leather or plastic, jutted an ebony black phallus, not shaped in the likeness of a human penis, but entirely smooth, without the suggestion of a helm. It curved upward in a slight bow, and was about five inches in length.
    â€˜I know we don’t need this shit to have fun, baby,’ Magda smiled, shaking the black dildo between a thumb and finger in a lewd yet engagingly frank gesture. Felicity continued to stare saucer-eyed at the figure looming over her, and at the glistening phallus thrusting surreally from the black shiny loins. ‘But it can be quite a turn on. For you and me.’ The seductive tones sank even lower, grew more throaty. ‘I like to penetrate, baby. You know, it can be a hell of a thrill. To feel your pussy bumping up against a babe’s, to be in her, grinding away.’ The strong face took on a suffused, dreamy expression, the eyes heavy-lidded with sensual promise. ‘And I know you like being shafted, baby. We can fool around girlie-wise later. Right now, let’s ride!’
    â€˜No,’ Felicity whispered, but let herself be laid back on a cushion, her legs spread wide, before the athletic form lowered itself gently between them and carefully eased the shining dildo into the narrowness of the moist orifice waiting to receive it. Her legs came up around those sculptured thighs and driving buttocks, upon which her pink heels drummed with increasing urgency.
    Felicity moaned, her dark hair tossed back and forth on the cushion. The rigid object burrowing away inside her was a source of both acute discomfort and wild erotic thrill. She felt its stabbing invasiveness filling her, skewering her narrow sheath, which spasmed powerfully even against the burning pain. Magda’s breasts brushed against her face. She felt the erect nipples rub over her cheeks and nose, and strained frantically to nuzzle and lick at their rubbery hardness. The breasts themselves were firm, sculpted as though of marble, and Felicity’s whirling brain wondered vaguely why they