<div class="floatleft">(https://c4.wallpaperflare.com/wallpaper/910/916/865/looking-at-viewer-women-elizabeth-turner-model-wallpaper-preview.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>June 1, 9 pm.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Home<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Confused<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Erin, Mar<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>There was too much going on for Celeste to focus on any one thing. She knew Mar and Erin were speaking, even managed to catch a word here and there. Something about a kinky flower girl; about the two of them using her, about her worshiping the two of them; about Mar fucking her while Erin watched. Mostly, though, it all mixed together into a sort of symphony of kink. Background music for the touching and the kissing and the fingers pushing into her sweet, needy pussy.<br/><br/>Celeste's legs opened for Daddy. It was instinct, her natural submissiveness coming to the fore. Or maybe just her desire to get off for the very first time by Mar's hand. If this kept up, that wouldn't take long. Celeste had always been sensitive down there. It didn't take much to set her off. Daddy clearly knew what she was doing, too. They both did. Her legs spread a little wider, knees began to tremble. She heard herself moaning, whimpering. Loud, desperate, helpless. She bit down on her lip, a futile effort to stop the noises she was making. Just a little further. A little longer.<br/><br/>Something cold pressed against her clit. Vibrating. Celeste's eyes rolled up into her head a moment before she squeezed them shut. Her thighs slammed shut, opened, closed, opened. "<em>Mmn!</em>" She whimpered. Close now. So close. Right at the edge. Another five seconds, and she'd be there. Maybe less. It stopped. Celeste groaned, blinked, arched her back and tried to follow Mar's retreating hand with her needy pussy. A pointless effort. The peak of her climax was retreating too, never quite reached.<br/><br/>Celeste had been left disappointed by sex before - many, many times before. But never like this. Never with a lover who had taken her so easily to the edge, could have pushed her over with as little effort. Never with someone who actually knew what they were doing. Those other disappointments were so much easier to take; she'd come to expect them. Learned not to hope for more. This one was different. She was so close. So fucking close. Frustration flashed over her, brief but intense. It might have lasted longer, if not for Mar's voice cutting through her emotion to remind her of her new place.<br/><br/>She peered up at the older woman. "But . . .," she trailed off. Cheeks red. Mouth hanging open. Eyes wide and pleading. She turned from Mar to Erin, Daddy to Mommy, searching for an explanation. "I thought . . ." She trailed off again, gaze shifting back to Daddy. "I'm not tired yet." She protested at last. There was, she realized, nothing else for her to say. Arguing would bring trouble she didn't want. Going to bed, though, didn't feel a whole lot better.