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That evening found the three of us in what Uther called the games room, where I was reclining like an emperor on a bed of thick furs. I had just been thoroughly serviced by two of our willing and nubile hero-worshippers and I had that empty, sated feeling in my belly that told me I would not be ready for any more play for some time. I lay back, my hands clasped comfortably behind my head, as I watched my two companions try in vain to raise my dead to life, their heads together, nibbling lips and tongues and teasing fingers willing the impossible.

A series of deep, determined grunts from Uther, over on my left, told me that he was rapidly approaching his destination and I turned indolently to look, finding myself pleasantly positioned to observe his phallus being engulfed and regurgitated by the wench who rode him like the stallion he was. Her buttocks quivered and shuddered with the effort of receiving him, presenting quite a sight to my clinical and rather cynical gaze. Uther liked his women big. And then it was that I noticed the girl, Cassandra, as Uther had named her. She was sitting there on the edge of his pile of furs, watching the goings-on in front of her as casually as though she were watching him at dinner. I hitched myself up on one elbow to see her better, dislodging myself in the process from my own attendants, who resumed their activities as soon as I was resettled.

Like me, Uther had two companions, the one who was impaling herself so determinedly upon his spike, and another who knelt behind him, supporting his shoulders on her lap while her large breasts fell on his face and supplied him with the handholds he needed for leverage in his exertions. Her associate, who faced her across his body, gripped her firmly by the shoulders for balance as she rode.

Cassandra's face was empty of expression. No lust showed there, no interest. Her eyes moved over the heaving, grunting tableau in front of her emotionlessly. I saw her glance downward at the junction of the two slapping bellies and then up again at the other woman's breasts and the hands that gripped them and as I looked, the woman supporting Uther's shoulders opened her mouth and lolled out her tongue like a thick, pink snake glistening with saliva. The sight of it must have triggered the peaking lust of her companion, for she went into a paroxysm, jerking the other toward her and sucking the jutting tongue into her mouth. But the movement pulled her free of the meat that pierced her just at the wrong time and there was a frantic scramble to reinsert the already spitting object before the moment was lost forever. I found myself laughing at the unconscious buffoonery of the sight as my eyes returned to Cassandra.

Her expression had not changed, but this time I noticed how her seated posture drew the rough, grey fabric of her plain smock into tension against her thigh, outlining the sweep of it, and my loins gave an involuntary twitch, which did not go unnoticed by my two friends, who redoubled their efforts and found life where none had been. The reaction, unwilled and unexpected, surprised me, so that I looked more closely at this strange young woman. She had none of the attributes that I normally found attractive. In fact, I decided, she was almost ugly. And she was definitely not right in the head.

Uther and his rider had collapsed, and I could feel my own resurgence progressing. I left Cassandra to her vacant observations and returned to what was going on below my waist. |

I lost track of the time that elapsed between then and when Uther called my name, but when he did I was preoccupied. My companions and I had achieved a happy state of closeness that allowed me to move from one to the other with great ease and speed, and so I ignored him and concentrated upon not concentrating too much on anything. But he was not to be ignored, and his insistence finally distracted me.

"What is it, Uther? What do you want?"

"Come here! Come over here and look at this."

"I'm busy! Look at what?"

"Come and see. Look what I have!"

I tried again to ignore him, snuggling my face into a plenitude of flesh, but he became even more insistent and I finally had to respond to him, merely to quiet him. "I don't care what you have," I told him, "I have things of my own to see to here."

"You can finish that later. Come and look at this."

I rose with a sigh and crossed the room to where he lay, aware of the cool night air on the moist parts of my body. "What?"

"Look at this. Have you ever seen the like?" I had, but I was looking at the wrong thing. One of his two companions was working at his erect phallus with her mouth, enjoying in her turn the mouth of her companion who suckled noisily between her lazily spread thighs. "Not that! This, this, this!" Uther drew my attention to Cassandra's face, which he held in his right hand, pinching her cheeks between finger and thumb so that her lips were pouted out of shape into a formless mass of soft flesh. Above her puckered lips, her eyes still gazed at him with that same, almost mindless docility. "Look at that mouth, Caius. Does it remind you of anything?" I looked. It did.

"I think so," I said, "but I don't know what. Let go of it."

He released her and her mouth went back to normal. It was an astonishing mouth, taking up more than half the width of her face, with full, fleshy lips. The mouth, and those eyes which never strayed from his, eclipsed the rest of her entirely. I found myself wishing she would look at me.

"That's quite a mouth," I said, as he squeezed it again from both sides, not enough to hurt the girl, but just to crush the lips back into the shape they had been in before. "What does it look like to you, Uther?"

He gave a great shout of laughter and released the girl, twisting his body around to grasp the hips of the wench who was being tongued by her friend. "This!" he shouted, pulling her body towards him with one hand and slapping her worshipper away with the other. Ignoring the disgruntled protests of both of them, he pulled and hauled at the one he wanted, twisting her around and lifting her legs over in front of him until she lay face down, diagonally across him, her nakedness turned up towards his face and her head down by his feet. "Come round here and look at this!"

Grinning, I moved around to his right shoulder. The girl on his lap began to squirm in protest and he slapped her a stinging blow on the buttocks. "Lie still, woman, and spread your legs!" He reached with his left hand and pinched the lips of her vulva between his thumb and forefinger, hard enough and with enough downward pressure to pout them open. "There! You see? It's wetter, but it's the same."

"Hairier, too," I agreed, smiling, "but there is a resemblance."

He reached out again with his right hand and pinched Cassandra's mouth once more, his eyes going from those lips to the ones he held pinched in his other hand.

"Uther! You're hurting me!" This came from the region of his feet.

He slapped her again. "Then get your great wet arse out of my face, woman!" Finding herself released, the woman scrambled away from him, pouting reproachfully over her shoulder at him, but he was oblivious to her. Her friend, on the other hand, leaned towards her and pulled her lazily over to where she could resume her interrupted activity. Uther, in the meantime, continued to stare at Cassandra's mouth. Slowly, without relinquishing his hold on her chin, he got to his feet and stood in front of her, the tip of his phallus poised about an inch from her pouted lips. Her eyes had moved upwards, following him as he rose, so that her head was now tilted back to see his face. He twined the fingers of his left hand, gently enough, in her hair, and pulled her face downward.