Gracely had let her fingers finally slip between her own legs now, stroking herself eagerly and squirming as she lapped away at Avabelle's cunt. She tasted sweet, like a piece of fresh fruit and Gracely soon found herself licking more just to taste than to please. Miss Poppyrow hardly seemed to care about that, as either way she was enjoying herself. Her hips ground against Gracely's face and she soon felt the woman's juices come out in a rush and drench Gracely's face. She stopped breathing for a moment or so and only rose to take a gasp for air when the woman's grip on her hair loosened just a bit. On one of the nearby balconies a man stopped with pounding his bent over slave to watch the scene driven by the howling Mistress.<br/><br/>Gracely glance up at Avabelle. Her eyes still held that heavy glazed look of a creature in heat. She did as she was told and began to lick eagerly, lapping up the juices that coated Avabelle's thighs and lips before sitting up a bit and licking her own lips. Juices still coated her chin and she lifted her hand to wipe her face gently. This woman really was quite messy.