Go: A Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page B

edge.
     
    I heard the other men moving now, stepping in for a closer
look. “God damn,” said a male voice, irrepressibly.
     
    Jack spoke to me again. “Tell him,” he repeated.
     
    “I want him to lick my pussy,” I said raggedly.
     
    The sentence was barely out before the man dove upon my
pussy, licking and slurping at it hungrily for a moment before burying his
whole face in me. His nose rubbed back and forth across my clit, but his
two-day stubble was irritating across my tender labia.
     
    “Careful,” I said, and he tried to back off but nuzzling
seemed to be his thing. After a few more moments I had to stop him.
     
    “Stop, please… I’m sorry. You’re hurting me a little.”
     
    “Next,” said Jack.
     
    “Wait,” protested the man from between my legs, “I can try
something different.”
     
    “Not how it works,” Jack informed him. “Next.”
     
    The next man started over again with my breasts, nibbling
lightly at my nipples, then, as I pushed them toward him for more, pulling them
hard into his mouth. But I needed a few moments more to regain my arousal after
the abrasions of the former man’s beard.
     
    “I don’t think so,” I said to whomever was listening.
     
    “Next,” said Jack, and a new man stepped to my breasts. This
one stroked and cupped their curves, then trailed his touch into a gentle
pinch. Then sucked at them, then stroked some more—he had a routine, but kept
changing it up.
     
    “Lick my pussy,” I told him, “But start gentle.”
     
    With the tip of his tongue he traced the sensitive lips of
my pussy, then flicked the smooth base of his tongue across my clit. I moaned
approval.
     
    He next drew my pussy lips gently into his mouth. Then the
same for my clit—a wide, gentle suction. I felt myself growing more engorged,
more sensitive.
     
    To my delight he reached up with both hands and continued to
pinch and stroke my tits. I was moaning loudly now, and one of the men in the
crowd let out a whoop.
     
    “Save some for the rest of us,” called out another.
     
    “Yes,” said Jack, “maybe you should,” and the man’s mouth
was removed from my clit, and I couldn’t help it—
     
    “No,” I said, “please—”
     
    “Next,” said Jack, and the next man’s mouth was on my
nipple, squeezing my tit like a water balloon.
     
    “No,” I said, firmly.
     
    “Next,” said Jack.
     
    A new man rolled my nipples between his fingers and spoke to
me softly, “I’ll finger you,” he said, “Just tell me to do it. I’ll finger you
and I’ll tease that little clit with my thumb and I’ll give you an orgasm
that’ll make you believe in God above.”
     
    “Stop talking,” I said, and I took his hand and I plunged
his fingers into my vagina myself. I was vaguely aware of a few men laughing. I
laid back on my elbows so I could spread my knees even wider.
     
    “O-kay,” he said agreeably, thrusting his fingers in and
out. He expertly thumbed my clit, too, just as advertised. “Like this?”
     
    “Yes,” I gasped, “just like that.”
     
    “You,” I heard Jack say, “Come play with her tits if you
want,” and a moment later my nipples were being tweaked as I lifted and
wriggled against the first man’s hand. I felt the first deep twinges of my
orgasm building, and my cries grew louder, more urgent.
     
    “Good,” said the man whose hand was inside me, “that’s a
good girl. That’s a good, good girl.”
     
    I could hear the wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out
of me. My muscles tightened—I felt it happening, the glorious eradication that
only an orgasm in someone else’s hands could be. It built and built, and then
it crested, and there was not a sound in that bar except for my screams as this
capable hand plunged into me deeper, and then deeper, and then pressed gratifyingly
against my throbbing clit as my climax slowly subsided.
     
    “Okay,” said Jack, and the man withdrew, and I didn’t move,
just lay there,