I can't deny it, my friend—the new Carmilla is absolutely fascinating to me. It's not just about wanting to feel more desired than ever; isn't that what we all want, anyway? What I'm feeling is different, and it's hard to explain without telling you what's currently going on in our Monaco apartment.
Bruce and Evangelina, like beautiful immortals who need to feed on me, both stretch out their hands. Naked, flawless, they claim me. They tower over me by a full head, and my eyes can't help but surrender to their imposing presence, which oozes pure sensuality and eroticism with every drop of scented sweat rolling down their bodies. I walk toward them, ready to submit.
The detective claims me, taking me from behind. While she kisses me, he drives into me again. Hard. There's no preamble, just a violent, mechanical thrusting that drives me crazy, making me gasp for more and more. He doesn't stop, making me feel like he never will. Evangelina's lips and mine stay locked together; her tongue invades my mouth, marking me as hers, declaring that these two cousins can do whatever they want with me. And I don't deny them.
I reach a climax incredibly fast, crying out and biting down—I bite her hard, and she responds by squeezing my breasts with even greater intensity. They have no intention of letting me go, and far from putting my fire out, it only ignites me all over again. He shifts positions when Evangelina decides it's her turn. Like a lioness in heat, she begins to prowl across the office floor in a feline posture, arching her hips high and letting her stunning breasts lightly brush the ground. God, she is beautiful. Her cousin takes her as if mating with her were an absolute inevitability. I feast on her breasts with my back pressed against the floor, feeling the pressure of one of her legs rubbing relentlessly against my core, making me shatter again and then again. Because as he thrusts into her, she refuses to let me go, pressing against me as if trying to merge into me knee-first.
We finish together, our fingers tightly intertwined, and Bruce follows seconds later in a frantic, life-and-death rhythm. The three of us lie there, staring at the ceiling. Their thighs are still touching me. I close my eyes, but they don't stop; they reach down, looking to slide inside my mouth. I open up for them, and their wet fingers invade me, moving down once more in perfect synchronization, leaving me with neither the ability nor the reason to defend myself. They pin me down, forcing my legs wide open, exploring me with their mouths until they are both drinking from me. I come yet again, letting out a sharp cry of pleasure, marking my climax by digging my nails deep into their backs.
A few minutes later, while I'm still trying to catch my breath, he stands up and sits in one of the chairs. He gestures to me from across the room.
"Come on, get on top of me. Put your ass right here."
Evangelina guides me over. I obey him, feeling his manhood stir the moment I settle my hips over his lap. She bites my shoulders and kisses him. I move rhythmically back and forth to tease him, to feel the firm, hard pressure of him. He lifts me with his hands and slides inside me. This time it's slow, deliberate, savory. Suddenly, he stops and goes completely still, forcing me to ache for the thrust of his hips, but he denies it to me. Evangelina takes control, touching me as if making me scream with pleasure were her sole mission in life. She uses her fingers, her tongue, and her fingers again. When he buries himself deeper inside me… I see stars, biting my lip to delay the ecstasy… but it's no use. I end up completely spent, smiling. I kiss them both on the mouth. No words are needed; the message is clear. I adore these two. Seeing them together on me was beautiful—too beautiful for words.
When I return to my room, I take a bath… a long, restorative soak. When I step out and stand in front of the mirror, I notice my waist and breasts are covered in red marks. I smile. As soon as I get dressed, I go out to look for something to eat, but I'm stopped by the sound of moans coming from Moetia's room. I want to go press my ear to the door to see what's happening, but Charlotte has already beaten me to it, practically glued to the wood. She looks at me innocently.
"I think it's my brother and the architect, but I'm not sure. I hope it's not true."
She walks away, practically indignant, slamming a nearby door and swaying her beautiful ass as she heads for the elevator.
I freeze, unsure of what to do, until the bedroom door cracks open. Moetia peeks out, covering her nakedness with a towel, and grabs my arm, pulling me inside. In the room, Lucius stands fully dressed like an emperor, his powerful gaze unbothered and unreadable.
"It's not what you think," she tells me. "He hasn't touched me. I only asked him to watch me… I like that, being watched… You stay too."
I try to decline, a thousand excuses rushing to my mind, but Lucius grabs my waist from behind and pulls me back against him.
"Stay," he whispers. "Let's watch her together. She's an artist, I assure you."
I wanted to leave—wait, my friend, did I really want to leave? At first, yes, but Lucius's cologne and his voice whispering in my ear changed things.
"Don't move from my side, girl."
I liked it. His strong hands wrapped around my waist made me tremble.
I flush crimson when she drops the towel, revealing a body bronzed by an eternal sun, free of any tan lines. There are two things I love about Moetia: first, the way she moves, as if she's constantly dancing on the tips of her toes with her fingers elegantly extended; second, her sultry, mermaid-like hair. She lies down on the bed, rolling onto her side. The gold-threaded comforter makes the whole scene look like a masterpiece painting. She begins to touch her own breasts, pulling at them with her hands as hard as she can until she gasps in a display of pain, as if she's reached her absolute limit. Then she lets go, casting a defiant look our way, and repeats the movement, pushing it a little further this time, holding her nipples out like an offering to us while biting her lower lip. When she releases them, she lets out a cry, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her legs rub together as her right hand slides down to her waist, tracing delicately along her center line.
Lucius kisses my neck, and it's Moetia who opens her mouth, as if she can feel in her own body what is happening to mine. For the first time, I understand the game. I press a finger to my lips, and she sticks out her tongue as if to lick it, as if she actually could. He strips away my clothes and kisses my shoulders. She presses her arms together to make her large breasts swell, pleasuring herself right before our eyes.
The sound she makes is pure music—rhythmic, perfectly pitched, subtle. Her legs continue to rub against each other as if she isn't alone in that bed, as if a lover were teasing her, making her wet, taking her without asking for permission. Lucius's shoes, pants, and shirt fly to the side. I don't look at him; I obey his command to watch her and her erotic, artistic composition of what pleasure truly is.
I feel my man's fingers on my waist, and I know I need to bend over for him. I do it without hesitation, without offering the slightest hint of resistance. Moetia's expression shifts when she sees my position, and she spreads her legs. Her completely hairless body glistens, lubricated by the natural sheen of her golden skin. Now, the game changes for the better. She begins to speak—not to Lucius, but to me. She gives me short commands, demonstrating with her own movements how I should obey.
"Higher," she says, arching her neck so that I lift my chin, curving my body even more for him.
"Open your mouth. I want to see your tongue when he goes in."
I obey her, mirroring her actions. Her own tongue is red, long, feminine, and perfect.
The weight of Lucius's manhood presses against me, demanding to be felt. It is as unyielding as a massive steel bar. It fills me with a sweet terror, a slight tremor that she mimics, slithering harmoniously and with absolute class. I turn my face to look at him, and he buries himself so deep inside me that I reflexively reach back to slow him down. Instead, I grip his hand tightly and show him my tongue. Moetia arches her back, commanding me to let him go further. I take a deep breath and copy her. The sight drives him wild; he grips my waist with both hands and begins to drive into me like a battering ram—not to break me, but to force me to completely surrender to his power.
She abandons her solo play, spreading her legs completely wide like a prima ballerina. Her fingers provide the pleasure she craves, while we provide the fuel for her mind as she commands:
"Come here."
Lucius pulls out of me, lifts me up in his arms, and throws me onto the bed hard enough to remind me that I am entirely at his mercy. He hovers over me, locking eyes with mine. She strokes his hair, brushing it to the side, framing his face like a wild Venus. He makes love to me ruthlessly, as if I am his only sustenance and coming inside me is his final directive in this world. It is so deep, so energetic, that I can't stop myself from reaching a climax when he locks my legs together, pinning my ankles over his shoulders. The pleasure spikes so intensely that I begin to shake, feeling the heavy impact of his ferocious thrusts—one, two, three, four… and I scream. Moetia screams at the exact same time without even touching us. Our mouths pant heavily, side by side. Lucius's arms and neck flush with heat, his veins bulging, and I prepare myself to receive every bit of seed he wants to give me. I belong to him.
He comes while kissing me square on the mouth, staying buried deep inside me for several minutes. I can't help but keep tilting my hips, draining every last drop from him. Moetia kisses the tip of my nose, then bites my earlobe, lingering there, her breath hot against my neck.
Lucius whispers to me:
"I love you, Carmilla."
Then, turning to her, he says:
"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Moetia."
He grabs his clothes, dresses without any rush, and leaves. I don't want to move; I'm exhausted, and his scent clings to my skin. Moetia has drifted off to sleep too… When I woke up an hour later, I realized that my night of pleasure was only just beginning.