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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Demonic Passions, Chapter 6.

Click here for Chapter 1.

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Thursday, October 31st, 2013 – Monique Lavoie – Lansing, MI

“Everyone take your seats,” Joslyn, the pilot, announced over Air Force One’s loudspeakers.

“Pity,” I sighed as I broke my kiss with 53, one of Mark’s bodyguards. She was a petite, Asian woman with a gorgeous pair of breasts that filled my hands. I squeezed her plump tits. Pleasure rippled through my body as she thrust her digits in and out of my pussy, fingering me hard as she had me pinned against the plane’s bulkhead. We were in the middle of furiously making out and driving each other wild.

“Guess we’ll finish up on the flight home,” 53 panted as she ripped her fingers from my pussy and pulled away from me. With her glistening fingers, she began buttoning up her low-cut, navy-blue blouse and smoothing wrinkles from her uniform. She transformed, the passion vanishing as she became all business.

Now that we’re landing, she was back on duty.

I straightened my skirt, what little of it there was. It barely covered my rump and, when I walked, my pussy would flash from beneath the hem. My bustier had slipped, and I adjusted it, lifting up my round, exposed tits into an impressive cleavage. I tweaked my hard nipples, left bare by the bustier, and made sure my red-and-blue striped tie fell between my lush mounds.

I sauntered back to the main cabin and sat down on a jump seat near the door. Lize—one of my many lovers, and my fellow stewardess—sat beside, her large breasts jiggling in her bustier. She wore the exact same outfit I did, our official uniforms that I had chosen last June when Mark and Mary first made us their stewardesses. I’d been married then, but I dumped my husband in a heartbeat to serve a pair of actual Gods. Lize, on the other hand, had brought her husband with her, and Franklin worked as the Gods’ webmaster now.

That had surprised me. I thought Lize didn’t actually love her husband. I figured her for another gold digger like me, marrying a rich executive for the easy life. Well, her feelings for her husband had never stopped the blonde from cheating on him at the drop of a pin.

“What shall we do for fun, my sweet, little Lize?” I asked, toying with a lock of my curly-black hair, my body on fire. I had come so close to my climax.

“Shopping, of course,” Lize giggled. “Let’s spend my husband’s money on clothes to look beautiful for our lovers.”

We giggled.

The Gods appeared out of their back cabin, dressed in simple clothes. For Mark that was jeans and a t-shirt, for Mary a flowery sundress. It was Thursday, and that meant they were spending the day healing sick children. Every Thursday, they traveled to a random children’s hospital in the US. This week was Lansing, Michigan. They sat next to each other, cuddling up. Korina and Lillian, the two sluts who’d attended them in their cabin, came out with broad smiles.

“Do you think they have good shopping in Lansing?” I asked, unable to keep my distaste for the provincial mid-west out of my voice.

“We’ll find out,” Lize shrugged. “Either way, we’ll find something fun and naughty to do.”

The plane began its descent. I took my little Lize’s hands, soft and delicate. She had come a long way from the shy trophy wife I met at that party two years ago. I had introduced her to a world of decadent pleasures: young studs, the pleasure of a woman’s lips, multiple partners, anal sex, and the thrill of public sex. She had been a virgin to it all.

Serving the Gods meant there was no limit to our decadence. We could do what we wanted, wherever we wanted, and the Gods would protect us. We served them and had earned whatever amusements we desired.

The plane tires screeched, the thrust reversals roared, and my seat belt dug into my waist as we landed. The plane rattled, shook, groaned, and then we slowed to a crawl. The thrust reversals growl died down, and the plane made a gentle turn. I peered through window, seeing the other planes landing behind us, part of the fleet of aircraft that followed the Gods around. They carried soldiers, vehicles, and spare parts. One plane that was simply their back-up ride, decked out identically to Air Force One.

That was power. That was why I ditched my billionaire husband to serve Mark and Mary.

The plane pulled up to where the advance troops—a company of the Legion and a squad of the scantily-clad bodyguards—waited. They had arrived yesterday, making sure everything was safe and secure for Mark and Mary’s visit. Beyond them, the media waited with their cameras and questions.

Lize and I unbuckled our seatbelts and moved over to the airplane’s door. I wore a smile, loving this part of exposing my basically naked body to the world. A staircase truck maneuvered into place, then we opened the door.

The bodyguards streamed out first, flowing past us and joining their sisters outside. They all looked dangerous and beautiful, wearing their slutty parody of a cop’s uniform, their tits almost falling out of their blouse, their skirts barely covering their rumps. Once they formed up, heads scanning for danger, the Gods appeared in the doorway. Lize and I flanked them as they waved for the cameras.

“Have fun, ma chérie,” I purred to Mary when she finished waving. I embraced my Goddess and groaned as she squeezed my round breast, her finger tingling as it brushed my nipple.

“Mmm, don’t get into too much trouble,” Mary said, her voice light and fun. She pinched my nipple.

I winked at her.

Lize gave Mark a similar farewell. She had a big grin on her face as Mark took his wife’s arm and descended the stairs. Roars greeted them, cheers coming from their worshipers lurking beyond the reporters. Cameras flashed. Signs waved. I was so glad to be a part of their power.

The sluts descended the stairs next, accompanied by Leah, the chauffeur, and a few of the girls who would serve the Gods during this trip, looking so sexy in their whorish French maid outfits. Lize and I exited the plane with the last of the bodyguards. The air was October air frigid in Michigan but, lucky for us, our ties had been enchanted by Sam. The Holy Vizier had whipped up a spell that turned them into mini-heaters that could keep us warm even in a blizzard.

The Gods began giving a speech while their convoy was readied. Lize and I waited on the edges, holding hands, the pair of us getting excited for our fun. Soon, a fleet of SUV’s and Humvees pulled up and the Gods, their servants, and bodyguards piled in. They sped off.

“So, what naughty fun are you two going to have?” 53 asked me, a grin on her youthful, Asian face. Her partner, 52, stood next to her, a buxom, Mexican woman with honey-brown hair and a pair of aviator shades on.

“Shopping at what passes for a mall in Lansing,” I declared.

“And fucking?” 53 asked, her grin turning sly.

Lize nodded. “Of course. Preferably the nastiest, most depraved fucking we can enjoy.” A wicked smile spread on her lips. “Shame you can’t join in.”

“We’ll have the plane ride back to relieve ourselves, right, 52?”

“Absolutely,” purred the Latina bodyguard.

Lize and I piled into the back of another black SUV. 53 jumped into the driver seat, and 52 slid in the passenger seat, what the Americans called “shotgun,” though I never had the faintest idea why. Then again, there was a shotgun and an automatic rifle secured against the console between their seats.

52 pulled out a GPS. “Let’s see what sort of malls there are around here.” The device made an annoying beep every time she pushed the keys. “Ah, here we go.”

“Go straight 100 feet and take a left,” a cool, feminine voice spoke from the device.

It turned out the mall wasn’t far away, merely a ten minute drive through Lansing’s streets. It was a depressing sight. A one story, sprawling mess without a hint of high-end boutiques where we could buy some designer clothes.

“Oh well, there are other ways to spend time in the mall,” Lize said, patting my hand.

“So true, ma chérie,” I said, my pussy juicy.

53 maneuvered the SUV through the crowded parking lot, lights flashing to clear a path. She pulled up to the sidewalk before the mall’s entrances between a Target and a Sears—how positively gauche—bringing looks from the shoppers. The two bodyguards exited the vehicle and opened the doors for us.

The glances turned to gawk at the sight of us.

It wasn’t every day you saw two barely dressed women step out of an SUV guarded by two cops that would be more at home on a porno set than walking a beat. Awe crossed their faces as they realized what women dressed like slutty cops meant. They backed away from us like they didn’t want to impede the Living Gods’ servants.

I didn’t pay them any mind, and strode into the mall, my exposed breasts jiggling.

It opened onto a garish food court. Cheap Chinese food abutted cheap Mexican food abutted cheap Italian food, with two hamburger joints and a shawarma shop thrown in for good measure. The tables were flimsy Formica, accompanied by uncomfortable plastic chairs.

Sighing, I looked around for anyone to have some fun with since shopping was out. A hunky, Black man accompanied by a rather plain-looking, overweight, White woman caught my eye. He deserved better than that dumpy woman. A pair of young women giggled when they saw us, and my eyes appreciated their short skirts and chokers about their throats. Another man, his forearms as thick as my thighs, walked by, his yummy butt clad in tight jeans.

“Mmm, he’s cute,” Lize said, nodding at the same guy.

I opened my mouth to respond when I saw her.

She took my breath away despite being wrapped head to toe in black cloth, a hijab, I think it was called. It protected her modesty by leaving only her hands and and her eyes exposed. She trailed after an Arab man dressed in a suit, his head covered by a white head wrap, the keffiyeh with intricate, red designs. The type of headdress you’d see in Saudi Arabia. He was young, early twenties, and the woman was probably his wife. She struggled to carry their purchases while her husband chatted away on his cell phone.

Asshole!

I nudged Lize. “How would you like to unwrap the Muslim woman?”

Her gaze fell on the woman. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mmm, you always get me the best presents.”

53 groaned. “He seems the possessive type.”

“That’s why we brought you along,” I said then giggled, hooking my arm through Lize’s. Together, we strode across the food court towards the couple.

The Arab man stopped when he saw us, his gaze falling upon our exposed breasts. A hungry smile crossed his lips. A few years ago I worked as a model, so I was very acquainted with Saudi men. They were all pigs, loving us Western women and our uninhibited sexual ways. They would shower you with gifts: jewels, money, clothing, anything to get you to spread your legs and fuck them so they could boast to their friends about the slutty, Western girl they defiled.

We walked right past the Saudi man, his eyes whipping around to watch our lush asses. We split apart to flank the Arabic woman. Her eyes—deep, dark pools I could drown in—and her hands looked young, but it was hard to really tell. She looked down, letting out a startled gasp. I could almost feel the heat of her flush through the black veil. Her entire body stiffened like a ramrod had just replaced her spine.

“Don’t be scared, ma petite chérie,” I purred, taking her hand. Her skin was silky smooth. “We won’t hurt you.”

“We’re just going to eat you up,” Lize cooed, taking her other hand.

“Sharmota!” roared the man. I knew that word; I’d heard it often enough from Arab men. Whore.

“Mmm, you have no idea how much of a whore I am,” I smiled at him, giving him a bold look. “And your wife will be one, too, once we’re finished.”

His dark face flushed with anger, his nose flaring as he snorted like a bull. Then he charged at me. He growled as his hands lunged for me. He didn’t get far. 53 whipped out her collapsible baton and slammed it hard against the back of his knee. With a cry of pain, he fell forward.

The wife gasped, her hand tightening his as she cried out a name, lost to the shouts of the crowd. 52 grabbed the man’s right hand and 53 the other one. The Arab man thrashed like a fish flopping about in the bottom of a boat as they manhandled him.

“Stop resisting, sir,” 53 calmly said, yanking his hand back.

“Let me go, bitch!” he snarled. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Sir, you just tried to assault one of the Gods’ servants. I’m placing you under arrest. Now stop resisting, or it will be much worse!”

“They touched my wife! Why don’t you protect her?”

“I’m not paid to protect your wife,” 53 said, pushing her knee into the man’s back.

He yelped in pain. Pulling out her handcuff, 52 ratcheted one end around his wrist. 53 shoved his left hand closer, and 52 slapped the other cuff over his wrist. The man growled as he struggled, the chain clinking as he pulled on it.

The woman yelled something in Arabic, the words spilling out too fast and fluid for me to understand anything. She struggled to break free of my grip. Lize took the other hand as the woman let out a wail.

“Don’t worry,” I told her, speaking in a soothing tone. “He won’t be hurt. So long as he doesn’t resist.”

“You’ll see,” Lize said. “We’re here to set you free.”

“Free?” the Arabic woman said, her accent musical.

“Secure him in the chair,” I ordered the bodyguards. “I think he should watch his wife finally become a free woman.”

“Sure,” 53 said, a big grin on her face.

I grasped the woman’s veil and pulled it over her face. She flinched as I exposed her face to the world. I groaned at the sight I revealed. Her silky, black hair fell long about a round, delicate face. Her lips were lush and cheeks full of blushing color. She had a graceful neck. It was such a shame to conceal her beauty. Her husband was a selfish creature, wanting to hide her away from the world.

I touched her cheek with a gentle stroke. “Don’t worry. I won’t harm you.”

Her eyes trembled, liquid like a gazelle.

I leaned in and kissed her soft lips. She gasped and tried to pull away, but I still held onto her right arm while Lize had her left. I tilted my head, working my mouth against hers. I slid my tongue out and caressed her lips. I savored the taste of her, the feel of her.

“Let’s see what’s under here,” Lize purred. She slipped her hand up the woman’s burqa, the fabric rustling. “Ooh, there’s your breast.”

I shuddered as the woman whimpered into my kiss. My lover fondled her breast through the shapeless burqa. I wondered if she wore a bra under there, or if she was completely naked. She stiffened a second time against me.

“Oooh, there’s a nipple,” Lize purred. “You’re getting hard.”

The fabric rustled as Lize fondled the woman. I loved how the woman whimpered into my mouth. I kept kissing her, hoping she would relax into the pleasures her body produced. I wanted her to embrace the gift that the Gods provided all women who served them.

“Stop molesting my wife!” bellowed the man. “Let me go!”

“He can’t harm you,” Lize said. “We’re going to love you. We’re going to make you explode.”

Her body relaxed. A soft sigh escaped her lips. My opening. I pounced and shoved my tongue past her lips into her mouth. A tremble rippled through her as I explored her mouth. I tasted her, loved her. She was so hot, so amazing.

Lize purred and nuzzled into the woman’s neck, kissing her dusky, creamy skin. The woman swayed. Her struggles had ceased. I relaxed my grip on her arm, only lightly holding her, ready to grab her again if she tried to break away.

She didn’t.

Her lips kissed me back. They moved with a hesitant instinct. Had her husband ever kissed her like this? Another man? She was so awkward and unsure which made the kiss even sweeter. My pussy clenched, heat billowing through me as I enjoyed this woman.

“Mmm, that was nice,” I purred when I broke the kiss.

Her eyes were wide and liquid, her eyelids fluttering. Her chest heaved with awakened passion. “This… isn’t… right…” she panted. “We can’t—”

I silenced her with another kiss.

Her mouth opened up right away for my tongue. I groaned as she kissed me back with more passion. She shuddered against me as Lize licked up to her ear and nibbled on her lobe. The woman swayed against us.

“That’s it,” purred Lize into the woman’s ear. Her pink tongue traced the dusky lobe. “We’re going to show just how right passion is, cutie.”

“When I get free, I’m going to beat you, Aaliyah!” snarled her husband.

The Arab woman, Aaliyah, quailed in my embrace, a piteous moan broke her lips as she pulled away from me. Such a boiling rage burst inside of me. The Living Gods were stamping out this sort of hatred. I spun around and fixed a look of disgust at the man sitting on the chair. He was handcuffed to it now, a pair on each wrist attached to the back frame of the chair holding him in place.

“Gag him,” I commanded 53. “I’m tired of hearing his pathetic whines.”

“You have to free him,” begged Aaliyah, tears in her eyes. “You are just making him more angry and—”

I placed my finger on her wet lips. “He won’t beat you ever again. You know whom we serve?”

Her head nodded.

“They are true Gods. They have power. You have my word. We’ll protect you.”

She nodded, a tear running down her dusky cheek. I licked her salty cheek, then captured her sweet lips for a third kiss. I shuddered as her tongue wiggled into my mouth this time. She was a quick learner, her kiss growing hot, aggressive. It was amazing to witness this woman blossoming.

Her hand hesitantly touched my hip, trembling. I shuddered as she grasped me. I kissed her harder, loving her. Lize nuzzled in, kissing at Aaliyah’s cheek, smooching across her face. I shuddered as Lize nuzzled into the kiss, thrusting her tongue into the mix. I groaned as our passion devolved into a sloppy, three-way kiss.

This was exciting. Aaliyah whimpered and moaned as she squirmed against us. Her body shuddered as our tongues danced together. The three of us loved each other. It was so hot. Aaliyah’s hand tighten on my hips.

“What are you going to…?” Aaliyah murmured, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were glassy. “Are we…?”

“Yes, “Lize moaned.

“I’m going to fuck you right in front of your husband,” I purred. “I’m going to make you cum so hard, you’ll shoot right to the moon.”

She looked around. A crowd of people, mostly young men, were watching us, holding up their phones. “But, this is… There are… We’ll get…”

“We serve the Gods, we can do what we like.” I grinned. “Look at how we’re dressed.”

Her eyes darted down to my exposed breasts. Her eyes widened and her flush deepened. “I see.”

“I know, she has a great pair of tits,” purred Lize. She took Aaliyah’s hand and brought it from my hip to my breast. “Why don’t you give her a squeeze?”

“This is wrong,” the Arab woman breathed as her fingers massaged my round breast. She dug into my plump flesh, her palm massaging my clit.

My pussy loved it.

“Sex is never wrong,” I purred to her. “Haven’t you heard the Gods’ message?”

She shook her head. “The imams have declared fatwas on them, calling them Shaitan and forbidding all faithful Muslims from watching TV and listening to the radio to avoid their evil spells.”

“Well, Aaliyah, sex and love are never wrong. No matter whom you want to do it with. As long as it’s consensual, it’s never wrong.”

“But you came up to me and…” She trailed off while blushing.

“And set about seducing you?” I arched an eyebrow while her fingers found my nipple. She stroked my hard nub, sending tingles to skitter across my skin down to my sopping pussy. “And? Nothing wrong with a bit of seduction. It worked, didn’t it? You’re going to let us do whatever we want to you.”

“I…” Her voice faltered, then she lowered her head. It was like she spent too many years submitting to her father and then her husband to have any real fight in her. They had beaten all the dominance out of her.

The poor thing.

“Let’s get this horrible tarp off of you,” I told her. “I bet you have a sexy body. You shouldn’t hide it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it. You’re a woman. Be proud. Show off your assets! Take control of the power you have upon men.” I gave her a wicked smile. “And women.”

Lize and I grasped Aaliyah’s the thick, black robe and pulled it over her head. She lifted her arms, meek and submissive, to aid us. I groaned as she came into sight, fresh juices leaking down my thighs. She wore no bra for her large, heavy breasts topped with fat, dark-brown nipples. They were hard from Lize’s deft fingers.

The only thing she did wear was a pair of white granny panties, loose and unsexy.

“Ma petite chérie, these have to go,” I said. “A woman never should wear underwear. She needs to leave her available for her lover to enjoy her at any moment. Especially not those panties.”

She blushed and squirmed.

I knelt before her and yanked those disgusting, unflattering panties off her thighs. They were practically shorts. I dragged them down her beautiful face and, as she stepped out of them, came face to face with her thick bush.

My mouth watered. Beneath that jungle of hair hid her juicy pussy. I couldn’t resist leaning in and taking a swipe through her bush. My tongue flit through the silky strands to find the hot folds of her pussy. I groaned as I gathered her tangy cream.

She shuddered and moaned, a look of awe crossing her face. Then she whimpered as Lize fondled those luscious mounds. I loved the dawning realization in Aaliyah’s eyes as she discovered the true potential of her body.

I took another swipe through her pussy, gathering more of her tangy dew on my tongue. Her pussy hairs tickled my cheeks as my tongue fluttered through her folds again and again. I made her gasp and groan.

Then I found the entrance to her pussy. I shoved my tongue deep inside her.

“Oh, wow!” she moaned, her hips spasming, rubbing her pussy on my lips. Her snatch clenched around my tongue.

“Mmm, tasty,” I purred and thrust my tongue into her pussy again.

I swirled around inside of her. She swayed, cradled by Lize. My lover pinched Aaliyah’s nipples then leaned over and sucked hard on the married woman’s fat nipple. She gasped, her cunt squeezing down on my tongue.

Her moans were so delicious. She made such wonderful sounds as her tangy cream ran into my mouth. I drank them down, reveling in the taste of her. It was so incredible to lick her pussy while feeling the intense gaze of her bound and gagged husband glaring at my back.

I broke away to grin at him, loving the fury in his face as he witnessed his wife becoming our whores. “She taste delicious. But you wouldn’t know.”

“No, he never did that,” moaned Aaliyah. “He never… did that.”

“Ate your beautiful cunt?” I asked as I turned back to her gorgeous snatch. “Or even suck on your nipples?”

“None of it. He just stuck in and…” She gasped as I pressed my lips back into her pussy. “Oh, my, that’s good.”

I found her hard, pink clit peeking out of her juicy folds. I sucked the sensitive pearl into my lips. The effect was electrifying. Her hips bucked. I nipped her clit then fluttered my tongue against it. Her breasts jiggled and swayed. Her face tossed back and forth.

A look of such shocked awe crossed her face. She groaned, her face tensing. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and cried out in Arabic. The words were musical, full of her passion. Her tangy juices bathed my face.

I made her orgasm.

It must be her first one. She cried out it stunned rapture. I drank down her tangy cream. I enjoyed every bit of it. My tongue lapped across her folds, gathering up her juices. She whimpered, her face twisting in rapture.

“Oh, that’s… I… Oh, my!” she groaned as her climax dwindled.

I stood up, staring into her flushed cheeks, an awed smile on her lips. “Well?”

“I have never…” She trailed off, her eyes fluttering. “Had… that.”

“Cum?”

She nodded.

“I bet you want another one.”

“Yes!”

“I bet Lize would love to taste your sweet pussy, ma petite chérie.”

“I would,” Lize said. Then she leaned over and flicked her tongue across my chin and lips. She groaned and purred, “Aaliyah, you taste delicious.”

“Truly?” the Arab woman asked.

Lize nodded as she took Aaliyah’s hand. My lover lead the married woman towards one of the food court tables. I groaned, admiring Aaliyah’s dusky rump. It had a firm plumpness. That was an ass begging to be clad in yoga pants and shown off to the world.

Aching with desire, I glanced at her husband. His face was dark with rage, eyes bulging with murder. I smirked at him, licking my lips, savoring his wife’s delicious cream. Then I winked at him again.

He strained, the chair bucking. His face darkened as the muscles in his neck bulged. He growled through his gag. The chair’s plastic flexed and groaned as he fought against it. The two bodyguards shoved him back down, pushing down on his shoulders.

Aaliyah gasped behind me. Her husband tried to lunge a second time, feet planted on the floor. 53 shot me a glance, her face tight. She wasn’t pleased at having to deal with this guy. I’d have to make it up to her on the plane ride home, and I think I knew exactly how.

In the meantime, I blew her a kiss.

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

It vanished as the husband growled again and made another lunge for escape while his wife made another delicious, wonderful sound. My pussy clenching, I turned around to find out just what Lize was doing to Aaliyah.

My lover had the Arab women stretched out over the round table. Aaliyah’s dusky tits were piled into two lush mounds that jiggled. I frowned then realized that Lize was working something in and out of the married woman’s cunt.

What had she found to use for a dildo?

I sauntered to the scene, leaving behind the snarling husband, and smiled. “Clever.”

“Just improvising,” Lize said, flashing me a smile.

She had grabbed a cylindrical ketchup bottle, the plain type you’d find in a cafeteria, and now worked it in and out of Aaliyah’s cunt. The Arab woman’s pussy lips were stretched wide around the bottle and clung to the red surface as as Lize pumped it in and out.

My pussy ached to be touched. I reached the table, staring down at Aaliyah. She whimpered and groaned, squirming on her back as Lize thrust that thick shaft deeper. Pleasure rippled across the Arab woman’s face, her tits jiggling.

“I bet that’s bigger than your husband’s cock, eh, ma petite chérie?” I asked, dragging a finger up her stomach towards her breasts.

“Oh, a lot bigger!” she moaned.

I shot a glance at her struggling husband. “She’s finally getting some satisfaction.”

He snarled.

“Oh, yes!” Aaliyah purred. “Mmm, I am! Harder, Lize! I didn’t know I could feel this amazing! It’s incredible. You’re churning me up. I’m going to… going to cum.”

“Yes, you are,” I said, my fingers caressing the inner slope of her tits. Mounted the table, kneeling beside her. “And you know what else you’re going to do.”

“What?” she moaned, her glassy eyes staring at me. She licked her tongue.

“You’re going to eat my pussy.” I winked at her. “Fair is fair.”

Her eyes widened. She licked her lips. “I… Yes, yes! Fair is fair!”

“Good, ma petite chérie.”

I straddled her face while staring right into her angry husband’s eyes. I smiled at him as I lowered myself ever so slowly to his wife’s eager lips. Aaliyah’s breath washed over my pussy as she whimpered and moaned.

I could feel how nervous she was.

“You are going to love it,” I told her as my snatch came closer and closer to her hungry mouth. “You’re going to devour me and become addicted to my pussy.”

“Yes!” she moaned.

Her moans combined with her husband’s eyes full of hatred and humiliation to fan my lust. I settled my snatch on Aaliyah’s mouth. A moment later, the married woman took her first taste of pussy, her tongue slowly sliding through my pussy’s folds.

It was wonderful.

She smacked her lips, purring appreciatively, then her mouth buried into my cunt. She ate me with such eagerness. Her tongue fluttered through my folds, brushing my clit and diving into the depths of my snatch. Pleasure surged through me. My back arched, my tits jiggling before me.

“I think she likes pussy,” I cooed at her husband as Aaliyah’s tongue buried deep into my snatch. “Your wife’s gotten a taste, and she’s going to want to indulge!”

He grunted, muffled by the gag.

Her tongue was unfocused, licking everywhere around my pussy. She flicked out of my depths a moment later and brushed my clit. I groaned as the pleasure flared through me. Her tongue fluttered around in my folds, licking up my juices before plunging deep into my pussy.

This time she fluttered it around in me. I groaned, grabbing her pillowy breasts as I stared at her murderous husband. My hips wiggled back and forth, grinding my juicy snatch on the married woman’s hungry mouth.

“She’s a natural,” I panted. “Your wife’s my new, lesbo slut! Once I’m done with her, she’ll be a slut for any pussy she can bury her face into.”

He snarled into his gag.

“And then I’ll teach her to love cock! I bet you can’t wait to see another man penetrate your wife? She’ll gasp and moan and cum all over his cock. I’ll love every second of it!”

Aaliyah dug her tongue deeper into me, swirling it around. The Arab woman loved my pussy. She moaned and purred into my snatch. Her delightful tongue flicked and probed. My juices poured out of me. She drank them down while Lize kept plunging the ketchup bottle into her cunt’s depths.

I stared her husband right in the face, smirking as he glared daggers back at me. I pinched my nipples, writhing my pussy on his wife’s mouth. My breathing quickened as my pleasure mounted. I didn’t fight the passion bursting out of me.

“Lick me, slut!” I purred, twisting her nipples. She gasped into my snatch. “That’s it! Make me cum! You’re my lesbian bitch! You don’t belong to your husband any longer! You’re mine!”

“Yes!” she moaned into my snatch. Then she found my clit and, maybe remembering what I did to her or just acting on instinct, sucked on it.

My orgasm built and built as she nursed on my clit. Her tongue flicked my bud. It was incredible. My pussy grew tighter and tighter. I moaned, tugging on her nipples. I never broke my gaze with the husband.

He bucked again, trying to get to me. Couldn’t.

I exploded on his wife’s mouth. “You wonderful slut, yes!” I howled as my pussy convulsed. “Drink my juices! You are amazing, Aaliyah! My lesbian slut!”

As I cried out, my pussy spasmed so hard a jet cream squirted out of me. It splashed on her face, drenching her in my passion. My stomach spasmed. I swayed over her, my breasts heaving as the pleasure howled through me.

I kept looking him in the eye as the darkness washed across my vision. Stars burst across my eyes as she kept licking me. As she kept feasting on my cunt. I tugged on his wife’s nipples as my body quivered atop her.

“Oh, yes!” I gasped. “Your wife just made me cum! And she loved it. I can hear her moaning. She’s happy. She’s my lesbo slut now.”

“I am!” she moaned. “Oh, it was delicious. I loved your pussy.”

Shuddering, I slipped off Aaliyah, a big smile painting across her lips. I shuddered at the sight of her. My cunt juices drenched her face and ran down to mat her black hair. I kissed her, savoring my tart flavor on her lips.

Her tongue darted into my mouth, kissing me back with such hunger. I knew her husband witnessed the passion in our kiss. He growled louder as I savored this moment. I gave this beautiful woman the pleasure her pussy deserved.

“You loved my pussy, didn’t you?” I purred when I broke the kiss.

“I did,” she gasped. Her face twisted with pleasure.

“Going to cum?”

“Oh, yes!” She shuddered. “Please, Lize, keep fucking my pussy!”

“I will,” Lize said. She grinned as she fucked the ketchup in and out of Aaliyah’s cunt.

“I want you to look at your husband and cum while Lize fucks you,” I told Aaliyah.

She craned her head and beamed at her husband. There was no fear in her eyes, only a vicious, emasculating pleasure. “Watch me cum, Samir! I never orgasmed with you, but I came for them! I loved devouring her pussy! I’m going to eat Lize’s next. And I’m going to fuck another man!”

“That’s my slut!” I bent over and sucked her nipple.

I swirled my tongue around the nub while Aaliyah gasped and moaned. She humped her hips into Lize’s thrust. My lover sucked on the Arab woman’s clit as she reamed the ketchup bottle in and out of Aaliyah’s cunt. The married woman’s moans grew louder and louder.

I squeezed both of her breaths, sucking hard on her nipples as she came closer and closer to her orgasm. She writhed on the table, her passions echoing through the food court while so many people watched her transformation.

Then it happened.

“Lize!” she gasped, her body bucking on the table. It creaked beneath me. “Yes, yes, yes!”

I released her nipple and watched her face transform into unbridled ecstasy. She didn’t hold anything back as her orgasm swept through her. Her tits heaved. Her body convulsed. She cried out in rapture.

Then collapsed and stared up at the ceiling, panting as her pleasure died down.

“Good, no?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she panted.

We played with Aaliyah all day long. I never did find that man to fuck her, but I had the perfect someone in mind. I did enjoy her sweet mouth licking my pussy in a changing room, and in the women’s restroom she was able to sample quite a number of different pussies, munching on each with great relish.

Our time at the mall soon ended, and we drove back to the airport to greet Mark and Mary. Aaliyah joined us, dressed nearly identically to us, though her skirt was a little too long—only a hint of her asscheeks peeked out as she walked. She savored dressing up like a slut, finally able to flaunt her body the way she’d always desired, no longer afraid of her father and husband.

Mark, his beautiful wife on his arm, grinned as when he saw Aaliyah. “A new playmate, Monique?”

“Our newest flight attendant,” I told him, pushing the young woman towards him. “If you approve, sir.”

His blue eyes ravished her. “What do you think, Mare?”

Mary laughed. “I think she’ll fit right in.”

Mark caught Aaliyah with one arm while Mary took the other. “You’re going to have to serve us personally on the flight home.”

“I’d like that,” Aaliyah murmured in awe. “Sir.”

I smiled, happy that I’d pleased my Gods and looking forward to all the fun Lize, Aaliyah, and I would get into at our next stop. “I think we need to get her gang-banged,” I whispered to Lize. “That will be hot.”

She nodded her head. “With her coloring, she’ll look exotic dripping in white cum.”

53 pulled me down in the seat beside her. “I’m off duty now. And I need to relax.”

“I’m here to serve,” I purred, sticking my hand between her legs. “It’s a stewardess’s job to see to the comforts of her passengers.” My fingers penetrated her pussy.

53 laughed. “You’re quite dedicated to your work.”

“Of course I am. I love it!”

To be continued…

Click here for Sex Slaves Gone Wild, Chapter 1.

Click here for Chapter 3.

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