Vicki's splayed body had become the divine altar upon which all three of them, her devout worshipers, came to offer up the best of themselves to please her, to bring her closer to sexual bliss.  Hands and mouths were the prayers that were spoken, the sacred idols and vessels that delivered their promises of intense ecstasy up to the prostrate goddess.  There were no more games; only instinct and emotions, half muttered words and labored breaths taken in between fleshy contact.  Suckling and caressing became the currency, the measure of their affection for one and other and it was given freely between all parties.<br/><br/>Nothing was held back and Frederick, lost in his own heady rush of sexual excitement, gave into the demands of the object of their attention and affections.<br/><br/>He moved reluctantly, forcing himself to be free of Vicki's sweet, tender kisses and to give up that gift to Beth instead.  The younger woman was eager in her pursuit to claim those coveted personalized inclinations and Frederick had to surrender them to her because Vicki had demanded it.  A brief flare of jealous gripped his heart but it was fleeting at best and soon, he returned to his duties and started to kiss down the curvature of Vicki's back.  This was to be his place upon the altar for now and he would make it sacrosanct.