CHAPTER 349: SNOWBUNNY SLUDGE [18+]

[#hardcore #frenzied #dirty #assfuck #grope #sweaty #thickpile #creampie #snowbunnysludge]

"DID SOMEONE SAY Salléndra?" a woman curled the words on her tongue, letting the last one drop with the intended accent. Men whistled and whooped as she did a little twirl in her heels.

This particular lady’s gown had ridden up higher over the course of the excellent dinner and a bit of her lower bum was enough to make the captains lean in—for a better, pinker look.

Salléndra was a rare bottle of aged rum. A Cthene invention, refined in the darkest cellars of Tor Ridge, silverly as it was magical to the tongue.

A flagon costed fourteen thousand gold. For simple clarity, a herd of ten hundred goats.

The flirty woman popped the bottle; started going round the table filling glasses, grinning with sly red lips, not caring about the drops that spilled, not caring again when other women’s eyes fastened to the hot nips under her couture, still not caring when a lot of mens hands found her as she passed by them and started climbing further up her bodice.

Their funny caresses soon turned into dips and squeezes. Awkward touches to the small of her back and gentle hips became bold claims to her exposed flesh. One man fully grabbed portions of her Elizabethan dress. It rent—she had no knickers on. And Eotigan knew it was time to go.

’Oh this about to be an orgy!’ he decidedly confirmed.

The hundreds of millions in treasure presently sitting in the ship’s hull provided enough incentive for the drinking passengers to engage fully their fantasy. Perhaps the real reason some boarded the Cruiser in the first place.

Hall Passes?

A chance at a swingers night?

Anniversary cheat nights?

Call it whatever.

It was about to get real. Shit was going down. These people were about to fuck each other...for real.

They were thrice richer now. What did they got to lose? The Salléndra was hitting hard. One sip more was one more reason their intoxicated brains gave enhanced libidos this was ’not a bad idea’. Shit! The goddamn captains had taken off their epaulettes. Plus, if every one was fucking everyone, who the fuck was gonna tell?

Eotigan drained the last of his astronomically-priced platinum mead and rose comfortably. He offered out his hands. "Ladies. . .shall we get the fuck outta here?"

The auburn-haired sergeant was bemused in deep joy and lust at the two bombshells on either side of him. Inaia and Kambili took his hands, both at the same time. But it was his rasta white honey who said, breathily, a short kiss away from his handsome face, "please, yes, Lord [host]. Take us, wherever."

The pause in her final word inflamed the growing beast of passion in Eotigan further. His golden eyes caught fresh fire and literally shined out their sockets. Before then receding into a singular, predatory darkness. His gaze on both girls was wicked. In his fiery pupils a promise of the best kind of Hel. He immediately gripped harder on their softer hands and promptly dragged them off the candlelit hall. Eotigan could hear Kambili’s delicate heart beat. Not a metaphor. His [Dhampir] was picking on the release of some serious pheromones. Kambili was not much of a talker. But by the gods, her mouth could do other rapturous things.

With Eotigan set in a beeline for their shared cabin, it took him only 94 seconds in his crisp tux to march across two decks and fourteen steps to it.

He knew this exact time because he counted the seconds it took to peeling the clothes off their heavenly bodies.

Literally.

His girls were a marvel. These women. . .his fuckin’ kryptonite! Eotigan was crazy about Inaia, since she had stepped out of his mind that day in her big, impressionable orange Afro. A sexy dutch rastafarian. And Kambil, every day since her emancipation, was carving herself a healthy slice of his infernal heart.

’For the Apollyon of the abyss, I sure suck at fulfilling dark prophecies. Look at me, big bad devil. And I can’t do shit when they’ve got me all sprung like this.’ he mused.

One second later, he kicked open the cabin’s juniper door.

The room was considerably warm. Cozy. Perfect.

Eotigan suddenly felt himself pushed back against the door which he had kicked in. A marvelous soft female pressed into him. Her voice slushed like summer rain:

"All night, I’ve been thinking about dis. About you. I couldn’t sit still. Could nat focus on me food and having a fun time. No man neva ever do dis ting to me. Why you make me so...so hot for you, fire-haired devil man? Huh?"

Eotigan could only see Kambili’s beautiful face by the rays of silver moon washing in the small, low-crafted windows. And gods help him. Her cheekbones were sculpted. Her fair skin shone more ivory this cool night. He felt every soft and curvaceous part of her pressed into the hard, aroused planes of him. Her words were beautiful too. He had never known he’d fancy an accent so off-road. But this was his Kambili: his crossroads maiden.

Before Eotigan, stricken in her alluring essence and smell, could form a response, Kambili rose on the tips of diamond heels, pressing more into him and the door behind. She whispered,

"—why?"

Just as his lips opened, she moved in and stole the most delicious moonlight kiss of all time.

Her mouth sought him out in open want and she moaned when he licked her tongue, sending her head to the side to grant him more of her heat. Kambili found her body trembling as his posture relaxed by the door and his giant hands boldly claimed her sweet body in that tiny black dress; he was slowly taking back control. He drew her into him harder till he was practically lain back against the door, she on top of him in a vertical position few could muster. And he ravished her good. He kissed her mouth till there was nothing else in her head but him.

His glorious man-scent. His hard, packed bod. His instrument of utter girthy passion—currently heavy across her stomach, throbbing every so often.

Just him.

Only him.

Eotigan’s left hand slipped under Kambili’s flimsy dress to cup her natively large bunda.

His one finger masterfully lifted aside her little tease of panties and another dipped in—just a push enough to have her know it was coming. She was hotter and wet down there.

Her big butt clenched around his naughty finger. Kambili broke the kissing, if only to breathe and regain some sense of self-control. She was gone from his loving and everywhere he touched her, it was like he set fire to her skin.

He was a [Third Circle] devil so he might as well have.

Eotigan let his dirty finger stroke tenderly over her asshole before removing it and holding up the same hand to the third in their menagé—the thick Afrikaner who’d been a turned-on voyeur ever since he kicked the cabin’s door in—his white honey.

"Is she ready, Subserviená? You tell me." Eotigan said slow and low.

Inaia quit her silent observing and moved in closer. Unlike Kambili, she had kicked off her heels the moment she was hit them steps. With Kambili watching, Inaia opened her mouth over the raised hand, and very slowly she sucked and sucked. She licked it all up with her dancing tongue. It was a revel, it showed in her rebellious hazel eyes.

Kambili couldn’t speak.

Eotigan asked again, "so?"

"Not there, Lord [host]. Not her arse." Inaia casually licked her lips, like it was moonshine she had just sucked off Eotigan’s fingers. With Kambili still watching, glued tightly to Eotigan’s abs, Inaia lifted and tucked back the splits of her own maroon gown; she put her hand down and gently shoved her thong to the side. And then she pushed two fingers in deeply, moaning under two sets of brimming eyes. Choking beneath immense pleasure, she rasped, "...I am ready, my Lord. Arse and pussy."

Kambili forgot to breathe.

Eotigan began praising her dark sexuality—in his darker bass. "Oh my fine wine, my white honey. Pure cream. Snow bunny." He kept one arm on Kambili but with the other motioned for Inaia to give him a twirl. Smiling, she did him one better. She turned to give her back and widened her stance. And she began twerking.

[DING!]

[Gladorium Equipped!]

[🎶 Macarena – Los Del Rio.]

"B-But I didn’t order a..." Eotigan’s speech was stilted when those cheeks began clapping. Inaia had a big fucking white fucking ass! She moved to the jaunty song like a sexual fever, stunning even Kambili at how well a white bitch could shake her booty. "Shit." Eotigan wanted to be in that ass—his head at least. In that moment his little brother and he were one in the man-verse.

’GET HER.’

The second Inaia flipped her luxurious dreads and dropped at the waist to do a dip, he was off that goddamn juniper door and upon her.

He grabbed her like a fucking horny rabbit—which wasn’t at all metaphoric.

PAH!

His right palm shot down to her plump booty.

"Show me, snow bunny. Fuckin’ show me." He grabbed a fistful of her scarlet dreads and pulled, hard. He dragged and pushed her elastin thong to the side.

And she showed him.

Inaia put back her hands and spread her ass cheeks for him, exposing her clenching need to his flaming iris. "You are...dirty."

—PAH!

He smacked her ass again.

Eotigan held her open and dropped a blob of fresh saliva down her fat globes. His eager hands sought out her breasts under her bodice and massaged her savagely. Inaia was already bucking back into him, seeking for that filling meaty size. Behind them both, behind Eotigan, Kambili was undressing him; popping buttons, easing his belt buckle, dropping his shirt and pants, paving the way. She was just as hungry to see what was going to happen next, surprising herself.

Eotigan actually had to grab his painfully engorged cock to steady himself.

He was that big in the moment.

Guttural became his nickname as he pushed into Inaia’s gaping ass, sinking all of his lust and sexual misery deeply in her round buttocks.

"—ahhhhhnnn." She had to bend further to ease him into a proper rhythm and pace for the both of them. Her moans were like the first. Stretched and difficult, but utter music to the ears. In the brutal assfucking moment, Kambili dropped down to her knees between them, to get a better view on the action—and spit upon their joining every once in a while. The more pumps Eotigan made upon Inaia, the more frenzied it got.

The crescendo of their passion spiked with the jumpy beats of [Gladorium] till they were so sweaty and too gone to speak any more.

Inaia just made these tiny and cute high-pitched noises.

Eotigan shut his eyes and focused on breaking her back.

The second Kambili witnessed his legs stiffen and a rush enflame his muscles she put her hand in the gleaming heat of where his huge dick was pounding Inaia, and she pulled him out.

"My turn," she said.

Eotigan had already hit jizz time. Loads of hot spunk shot out of him, searing his initials onto his snow bunny bent over the goddamn wall of the cabin. He put the creamer on her cream. A thing he liked to call in that rapturous moment,

Snow bunny sludge!

He watched his silver glory dribbled all over her shaking ass and she leaked squirt down on the floor from her pussy. He had her locs in his hands. There was no mercy for her. Her eyes were rolled back, the sweet brown in them invisible to her ecstasy. Her mouth hung open. She was literally screaming the fuck out, but no sound escaped those beautiful lips. Eotigan’s firm hand over her throat made it so—and weirdly it brought her to orgasm another two times.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

Eotigan was still cumming hard when Kambili drew his fat dick into her mouth and began to suck, drawing even more semen out of him. She gripped to him tight and he watched himself fatten her throat. He was grateful that the airhead passengers were even at the moment locked in their own sessions of hedonism, how else was he going to explain the cloud of potent musk rising like Catholic incense up his cabin?

Besides the blanket of his warm cum drying over Inaia’s pinkened arse, Kambili drank the rest of it.

All, of the rest of it.

Eotigan petted her shaven head as she slowly let him slip out bobbing and shiny from her full lips. He had to teach her there was such a thing as ’dick breath’.