The Supremacy of Samantha

Chapter Four-3

Smiling calmly as she seemed to read the emotions flickering in his pained eyes, Samantha inclined her chin in a gesture that was almost gracious and queenly, and yet in a way somehow very condescending, too. “Now, as you perform c*********s on me,” she shrugged airily, “I at least will allow you an erection if it chances to occur. I won’t reach down and slap the nasty thing into flaccidity, for example, as may be my right.”

Shocked, Tom could only blink back at her, white-faced, as if it were some stranger who sneered so strangely, so cruelly. And yet suddenly he realized that there was a significance of some kind to her pause, and her haughty eyes regarded him meaningfully. Tom thought quickly. Nervously he licked his lips. “Th-thank you,” he gulped at last.

Samantha smiled, and again she inclined her head faintly, as if to a compliment or to some honor duly given. “You are not, however, permitted to touch it,” she reminded him in quiet tones. “You do not deserve even that scrap of pleasure.”

“O-of course not,” Tom agreed dutifully.

Again Samantha smiled, a crooked, somehow disturbing sort of expression such as he had never quite seen before. “Because you are not allowed s****l pleasure until…” She elevated one eyebrow questioningly.

He blinked. “U-until after, uh…after I pay you back,” he replied, squirming faintly, “for so kindly paying off my debt.”

“My payment being?”

Tom hesitated.

“My payment being?” she repeated, her eyes hardening.

Tom swallowed. “To get…gangbanged,” he forced out, “by all my poker buddies.” Still, however, those eyes imperious green eyes leered down, prodding him. “W-w-without condoms,” he whispered, red-faced.

God, it was terrible to have to say! Why, how could any husband, any man, countenance such defilement of his own beloved? It was unthinkable, shameful beyond belief. Certainly he didn’t want the awful deed to happen. At the same time, how peculiarly those forbidden words, and the quick flashes of the tabooed images which his poor mind of its own volition could not help conjuring up, slid down into the bottom of his belly, and lower, tickling his unwilling senses like an itch he did not dare scratch. He felt the blood begin to stir again down there, and he hoped, all at once embarrassed, that she could not see the strange stiffening of his guilty organ.

Samantha, however, simply smiled all the more devilishly as she regarded her helpless prey with sentiments seemingly little different from those of some great predatory spider. Yet while this commanding creature may have had fewer legs, those upraised limbs could be just as powerful, he knew, just as voracious, and they led the way to a sticky-soft allurement more deeply ensnaring than any mere silken web. Tom, shivering, breathed raggedly of the primal s****l odor of her, his eyes dropping helplessly into the sticky pit fuming thick-lipped and pink beneath her soft mons. Eyes wide and longing, he looked up at last into the soft face that smirked down at the way his p***s distended in its awful need. He swallowed. God, how he needed her.

Flushed lids heavy, Samantha pulled up her silken nightie and began tugging assertively upon the thickened pink-brown tips of her lolling blue-veined bosoms which she thus bared. “Eat me,” she whispered urgently, spreading her thighs wider perhaps without even realizing it. “Now. Hurry! Before the children start to wake up!” Completely unashamed, she pulled those beautiful n*****s to absolutely enormous lengths, actually lifting the heavy masses of her soft titties, and the smell of the slippery flower glistening wet and open beneath her belly increased deliciously.

Whimpering in his delight, the priapic husband wrapped his arms gratefully about her full hips, and he dropped his reddened face into her burning pink flesh with a splat, and he opened his adoring mouth and began to feast.