Place For It Ep. 02 by Kedge

Place For It Ep. 02 by Kedge

Episode II

She woke, sprawled languorously over a thick down satin quilt spread over a large, firm mattress. She was covered with a light satin sheet. The room was dimly lit by reflected sources hidden in molding. The bed was surrounded by eight chairs, three on each side and two at the foot. Obviously, she had had an audience as she slept. The head of the bed was against a wall which was set with many small loops and rings. The door was centered on the wall opposite.

She sat up, letting the sheet glide caressingly off her bare shoulders and naked breasts, falling into her lap.

The floor was covered in a short-nap white carpet and, other than the chairs and the bed, the only piece of furniture was a tall white dresser against one wall.

Gentle throbbings, memories pressed into bone, loosened tendons and stretched muscles recalled the shower of…

How long had she slept?

She didn’t know.

She had no way of finding out.

She didn’t care.

She got slowly out of bed and walked across the springy, deeply padded carpet.

She pulled open a drawer; empty.

Another; empty.

A third; a single, braided quirt lay diagonally in the drawer. She touched it tentatively. She looked over her shoulder, breath caught in her chest. She stroked the firm dark leather, curled fingers cradling the hard stiffness.

She felt her face, throat and tits flush hotly. Her blood pounded in her ears. Her breath heaved with excitement.

She slowly closed the drawer and crossed to the door and tried it. It opened easily and silently into a corridor. A dim blue light emanated from the entire ceiling absorbed by the dark walls and reflected strongly from the series of seven white doors ranged along one wall. At each end, the corridor turned blind corners.

The first door she tried was locked.

The second opened into a room filled with a large sunken tub, kidney-shaped and surrounded by a smoothly polished wooden deck. She did not recognize the wood but was attracted by its rich golden-honey glow. The water was lit from beneath and this provided the only illumination in the room, although she could see guttered candles in several of the many alcoves which pocketed the walls.

The room was littered with half-full glasses, snifters, pipes, towels (both freshly folded and tossed, abandoned, into corners), crumb-filled plates and bowls of fruit scraps. Even with all the clutter and ortage, the room still looked clean and attractive.

She shut the door and moved down the hall.

The next door stood ajar and she looked in, without touching it. The sight framed by the shaft of light spilling from the hall into the darkened room caused her breath to catch and her pussy to tighten.

There stood a very tall girl, nearly two meters — a classic California beach hard-body. Thick blonde Norse hair hung knee-long. Ideally tanned, except for the perfect pale “V” where the maillot snaked over the hips and dove through the fine blonde fluff to disappear between the thighs. Equally pale were the small triangular patches surrounding each almond-colored nipple.

Both hands were held tit-high and spread about twice shoulder-wide, palms forward. At first she thought the blonde was praying, eyes shut, but then realized, with a gasp, that a wide band of leather the color of the buttered-toast tan, covered the eyes completely.

A thin black chain lay loose about the neck, joined to a ring nested between the collar bones. From this ring a chain fell to another, between the bottom under-curving of the startlingly globular breasts. Chains, thin and black, festooned from this lower ring to narrow wrist cuffs of the same leather as the blindfold, and these in turn were secured to opposite walls by the same black chain.

On hearing her gasp, this splendid Norse goddess spread tan arms as far as possible, long supple fingers grasped the wall-bound chains and a black loop now hung from each golden hand. The festoons were pulled tight and pressed against the underside of the almond-tipped

breasts, cutting in just enough to make visible their firmness. The blonde went up onto toes like a ballerina, exaggerating height, throwing leg muscles into even greater definition, tightening butt cheeks and thrusting the spare blond bush forward.

The tanned body looked as if she were balanced on absurdly high spiked heels.

She opened the door wider and entered the room. No furniture; no light source; walls, floor, ceiling — all black.

As she circled the chained beauty, the blonde leaned forward, her light hair slithering over every contour, accentuating the solid, naked form. The well-tanned ass thrust back toward her, the plump pudenda pouting between firm, taut thighs.

She reached out to touch the totally buffed bottom, firm, soft, smooth and much cooler than she’d have thought.

Chains creaked as the blonde shifted to present even more erotically. She noticed the breasts: full globes, even in this position, held tight against the ribs. She reached to touch the dark brown aureole, the nipple hard as stone. She pressed it into the resistant globe. She hefted and squeezed the taut, heavy tit-flesh which the blonde pressed into her caressing hand.

With her other hand she explored the crack between the powerful, tanned butt-cheeks. She ran along the crevice to the soft, yielding mound covered with wavy blonde hair. The cunt was moist and hot as her fingers traced the puffy lips. So hot, it seemed to burn her hand. Her fingers curled as she began to slowly push her way into the inviting gash.

“There you are.”

She pulled her hands to her chest, startled by the newcomer at the door. The Hardbody rapidly shifted to display to the voice.

A short, square-faced woman, her form masked by a loose linen caftan, stood in the doorway. Black hair was cut just below the ears and a smile grew as the situation in the room was slowly observed and absorbed.

“Come we have been waiting, wondering.”

As she started to leave, the short woman abruptly crossed to the tall blonde and grabbed an almond nipple with her teeth. She reached between the long, tawny legs and, with a finger pressed against the anal ring, pulled the blonde off-balance.

The towering beach beauty toppled and hung, suspended by her wide-spread wrists.

The black-haired woman released the mouth grip, lapped at the nipple several times, kissed it, then pulled it between sucking lips, cheeks hollowed.

Abruptly abandoning the chained and toppled goddess, the short woman led her out of the black room and into the corridor.

The rapidly scissoring legs beneath the caftan moved quickly around the corner at one end of the hall. Making the turn, she saw the small woman holding open a door, spilling steam into the corridor.

“Enter. Stand silently until you are summoned.”

She stepped into the steam-room and immediately felt her pores open to the heat. Four tiers of benches arced the comfortably spacious room. Several women lounged before her in the steam.

One, a mature, dark-haired woman, soft and large, glanced at her lazily. Her eyes were riveted to the woman’s ample, round curves. The woman’s liquid brown eyes snared hers and held them, transfixed.

While the brunette’s eyes read her rising lust, the woman slowly spread her knees, exposing a thick brown cunt-fleece, pearled with condensed steam.

She could not help but lower her eyes to the plump, forested mound beneath the rounded belly.

On the bench below lounged a beautiful Chicana with a Mayan nose arching between eyes that shone like a deep pool in a slow, silt-laden river.

The flat cheeks rose beneath them to high-crested cheekbones and a large, full mouth graced a narrow chin.

Thick, black hair shone in the mist of the steam-room and piled heavily on broad shoulders.

Lovely, round, mandolin-shaped breasts, held nipples thrust out like the tips of dark-roasted jalapenos.

This beauty, who had turned to watch her walk through the door, turned back to the woman seated on the bench above and lifted an arm to smoothly press two fingers into the exposed slit.

The brunette eased forward slowly, accommodating the invasion — and recapturing the attention of a owl-faced woman on the bench above and behind.

Feathered and layered silver hair framed a wide, flat face. Pupils as large as dimes were ringed with a deep, rich amber.

The small, pointed nose curved sharply over a small, thin-lipped mouth.

This white bird watched her, waiting for her to move, to give some sign.

Then, with a toss of that lovely head, she reached down to encircle the brown head with her slender arms and toy with one starkly erect nipple. As the brunette turned to kiss the exotic bird-woman, the woman on the bench beneath rolled toward the brown-haired pussy and lifted her head to begin gently probing.

The soft, white legs framed the eager brown body, throwing the graceful undulations of the black-haired Chicana into stark relief.

Brown arms wrapped around the ample thighs and, supported on their solidity, the woman slipped from the bench to kneel, knees resting on the floor.

Skin, where it stretched over the tight ass, lightened to a smoky butternnut. Hair bobbed and slithered over the brown back as a mouth sought the perfect pattern to play over, and in, the older woman’s cunt.

The silver head leaned further, her small tits dragging through the brunette hair, to be tugged over the older woman’s soft shoulder.

Narrow fingers cupped the heavy breast from underneath and lifted it, offering the nipple to the long, sharp, swiftly darting tongue.

The woman in the center threw the dark head back, arching back, to ease the owl-faced woman’s advance.

She reached up and back and gripped the raised ass of the silver-haired woman, pulling forward, to crush into that softness.

Lifted knees spread thighs wide for the black-haired beauty between them.

The door opened and the short woman stepped into the steam and touched the small of her back.

“Come now. They are ready.”

Her skin was pink and she felt completely relaxed and stimulated by the steam — and the slow, hot action — in the room she was leaving.

A few steps led to another door which was held open by the square-faced woman.