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told him.
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    Charlotte Boyett-Compo
    But it was Blondie’s tentative stroke of his cock that nearly sent the Reaper over the
    edge. He snatched his hand back from Argent and grabbed the headboard as though his
    life depended on it.
    “I think he liked that,” Blondie said, and wrapped her fingers delicately around his
    cock. “Oh sisters! It is hard as steel but velvety soft! Feel it!”
    Eager hands touched him, stroked him, fingers swirling around the engorged head,
    delicate little fingernails dipping into the slit that had garnered more “Ooohs” and
    “Ahhhs” as liquid oozed from its depths.
    “It’s like a little mouth,” Blondie suggested.
    His eyes widened as Red put a finger to the ooze then brought it to her mouth.
    “Taste it,” she encouraged her sisters. “It’s salty and slick.”
    Blondie and Argent had to experience it for themselves, each running a thumb over
    his aching head.
    “I like that,” Blondie declared. “Oh, I really like that. I can’t wait to put him in my
    mouth!”
    “Argh,” Eanan groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know how much
    more of this torture he could take. He couldn’t remember being as hard and full as he
    was at that moment, and with their hands pulling lightly at him, sliding under his balls
    to cup him, weigh him…
    “Interesting piece of anatomy,” Argent said. “Heavy.” She removed her hand so the
    redhead could touch him.
    “They are wrinkled like corduroy but they are so warm!” Red exclaimed as she
    fondled him. “And hairy.”
    “Didn’t that whore put her finger inside him?” Blondie inquired.
    His eyes flew open. “No!” he yelped, and he lifted his head, repeating the word
    firmly. “ No !”
    “But why not?” Blondie asked, her lips thrust out in a pout. “She did it.”
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    Embrace the Wind
    “Aye, and if you do it, I’ll come like a race horse, wench, and you really don’t want
    me to do that before I’ve had at least one of you,” he protested.
    “Why not?” Argent queried with a sharp frown.
    “Because it takes men half an hour or more to be able to do it again after they’ve
    climaxed,” he said, hearing the wheedling in his voice and embarrassed by it.
    Argent leaned over him and traced her fingertip along his bottom lip. “Don’t worry,
    warrior. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
    “Aye, but…” he began.
    Before he could stop her, Blondie wriggled her finger beneath him and inserted that
    wicked little digit as far inside him as it would go. He gasped and stiffened, making a
    strangled sound as she jiggled her finger and his hips shot off the bed.
    “He is going to do that thing. I can see it in his eyes,” Red warned. “Look at his
    shaft and his balls are all tight and tucking up.”
    “He is going to spill his seed,” Argent labeled it.
    “Oh goodie!” Blondie exclaimed, and she leaned over him, taking him into her hot,
    wet little mouth.
    That was all Eanan could stand. His iron grip on the headboard was the only thing
    he still had a hold on. He came so violently he felt the blood pounding in his ears with a
    mighty roar. His heels dug into the mattress, his hips pumped upward and with three
    sets of hands fondling his body in different places all at the same time, he came and
    came and came until he thought the top of his head would blow off.
    He shot hard over and over again, trembling violently with each spasm and his ass
    ground against the mattress, his neck arched, head pressed hard against the headboard.
    “Aye, warrior,” he heard Argent say as she spiked her fingers through his hair and
    pushed it back from his sweaty forehead. “That is what we wanted.”
    The stroking went on and on.
    “Enough!” he shouted, trying to writhe away from those eager hands. “Please!”
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    Charlotte Boyett-Compo
    Blondie still had him in her mouth and was sucking him as though he were a
    lollipop. He could feel the pressure of her flat, little tongue against the underside of