As Lysanne's thighs were wrapped around Lestat's head, his skillful tongue aimed at her warm and wet folds, it wasn't hard to imagine that the depraved Count of Lion's Rock could lose himself in his equally depraved half-sister. In an attempt to justify all of their salacious engagements, he actually saw it as an extension of the chivalrous notion for a knight to 'save a damsel in distress', the suppressed sexual desires and freedom being the 'chains' she found herself shackled to that would be undone by himself. Simultaneously, Lestat also saw it as a development of sibling relationship that began with innocent cuddling during their younger days, now transformed into something that wasn't shameful in their own minds any longer, despite what ordinary society thought and condemned. Thinking about it, the very fact that they were blood related only made him harder and wetter.
With the exception of their names being uttered on an occasional basis, not a proper word between them was exchanged, though it didn't prevent a complete understanding that Lestat had towards Lysanne, especially when they had been together for so long. Heir sweet and spicy sighs and moans, they way her body shifted...Even the clench of his hair told him exactly when to accelerate or slow down his sexually enticing actions. All of this only kept him going, fueling his pride about being in tune with his sisterly lover, knowing that he had the power to manipulate the extremely tingling sensations that kept on coming and going. Arguably, she also possessed the finest cunt in all of Khurun, which greatly aided him in delivering the promise of comfort and pleasure.
Having found a sensitive nub in Lysanne's folds, Lestat's diligent tongue gently assaulted it, never relenting even in the face of himself being on the verge of explosion, which was miraculous enough that it did not occur just yet. After a while. the Count decided to increase the forcefulness, thus removing one of his hands from her hips, using both his middle and index fingers as a pair to slowly but surely enter her juicy cunt. Said digits moved back and forth in a rapid succession, aided by the essence of fire magic imbedded on their tips. "Let me hear you sing louder," he said in a rare moment of in-between pause, encouraged by the increasing volume of her voice, crying in pleasurable agony.
"YES, give me all of it to me!" Lestat exclaimed with the craziest eyes and facial expression known to humanity, encompassing his mouth around Lysanne's sensitive folds as her wet and warm orgasm of creaminess hit him in the face, his tongue lapping it all up like a kitty cat which hadn't been fed for days. It was in the aftermath of her impending release that he finally relented, finding himself taking a break whilst standing on his knees and wiping away remaining residue with the back of one hand. He was courteous to grant her a temporary break as well, licking his lips as she was still arched on the fountain's edge, her perfectly sculpted body finding itself enduring the waves of salacious aftershock.
Obviously, this was just the first step of their erotic journey completed, which is why Lestat stood up and lowered his hand to help Lysanne on her lovely feet, his manhood being incredibly swollen as it was still tucked behind annoying fabric. "Think it's time to quench your thirst as well, my vivacious vixen," the Count teasingly whispered into her ear, as he led her a few meters away from the fountain. Pulling her in as close as possible, his fingers proceeded to knead her perky breasts and caress her dripping cunt, interchanging positions from time to time as their tongues were engaged in a salivating wrestling match, strands of joint drool covering her tits. It was only when it became too unbereable between his legs that finally he ordered her, amber eyes meeting purple counterparts in unison: "Down on your knees." He kicked off his shoes, freeing his feet to softly interact with her pair through toes.
Just like the nature of a serpent within her, Lysanne slithered down on her knees after Lestat gave her a decisively deep kiss and ran her fingers along the contours of his hardened form, drawing the agonising sensation out a little further. Eventually, she gently undid the sweaty trousers, to finally free Lestat's glorious spear of flesh, leaving him completely exposed to her and the green environment alike. "I know much you want this..." He confidently said, knowing that it was her turn to be in total control. His fingers cupped her cheek whilst moving his perfectly thick, long and veined cock of pride, its red head glistening in pre-cum, a few inches closer to her gorgeous face.
Lysanne's fingers gently wrapped around Lestat's manhood thereafter, followed by slow and deliberate kisses from the tip downward, her tongue exploring every curve with gentle precision. At last, she pressed a tender kiss to the crown, her lips lingering before parting. With quiet confidence that spoke of experience, she began to take him in, inch by inch, as she settled into a steady, unhurried rhythm. The Count simply said nothing as his hands swept her hair aside, watching her with an intense gaze, feeling every patient moment she gave him. Though her pace was unhurried, it didn't take too long for the tension within him to coil. Every time he fought to meet her movements with his own, Lysanne seemed to sense it, by adjusting, quickening and drawing more from him worldlessly.
When the edge finally neared, Lestat reached down as one hand cradled the back of her head firmly yet gently, keeping her close; the other stroked his heavily elongated length with utmost urgency. His breathing roughened, as he allowed seed to be blasted over her face in thick and pulsing waves, ensuring that each drop didn't end up wasted. The Count lingered in the moment, eyes heavy, wiping the last remnants gently from her lips before finally letting her go. For a breath, he stepped back; chest rising, heart pounding. Then, in order to complete the final act of total satisfaction, returned to her again to grab her hand, the seed still drying on her face and jaw. "Looks like the perfect altar for erotic devotion," he chuckled and had a taste of himself as their lips briefly collided. "You and I are like the ideal condiments together, aren't we?"
Lestat lifted Lysanne effortlessly onto a nearby smooth white pedestal, her belly facing the cold stone and her back shining under the soft light. He stepped in close thereafter, his chest grazing her spine as his hands slid along her thighs, thumbs pressing gently into the curve where skin met muscle, their sweat mixed into a salty cocktail. His manhood brushed against her once more, rubbing against the soft roundness of her, that always made him lose composure. One foot tapped hers apart, widening her stance with deliberate care. He brought one hand to his lips, spit gliding into his palm before he wrapped it around his cock of pride. He pressed himself to her, the heat of her body welcoming him slowly, and with one hand firm at her hip and the other coiled gently in her hair, he began to with the motions.
“I love you, Lysanne Kain,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive as his lips hovered near her ear, "Forever and ever,". He thrust forward and deeply, letting the rhythm speak. Her body tensed around him, her breath stuttering, and Lestat felt control and hunger knot tightly in his chest. His fingers tugged once more in her hair to anchor himself, just enough to turn her face toward him, so he could catch the look in her eyes. And then he gave in, surrendering to the rhythm that pulsed between them. He fucked her juicy cunt at first, to the point where her second orgasm completely covered his entire length, then he slowed. He smiled, as something stirred a deeper need in him, one that wanted to worship...Her magnificent ass.
With a steady hand and reverent care, Lestat withdrew from her cunt, pausing only to prepare himself again. His touch was that of someone who knew her body, knew when to go slow, when to wait, and how to read her breath like a second language. He guided himself to her carefully once more, one hand anchoring her hip, the other holding her steady. The first push into her tight hole was gentle, akin to one one stepping into holy ground. The Count watched his half-sister closely, attuned to every twitch of her fingers, every small gasp or shift in her frame. He didn’t move until she was ready.
As soon as when Lysanne's breath smoothed and her body welcomed him fully, he began to build another rhythm that was deep and mindful, whilst painting her ass cheeks lightly red with handslaps. No part of him rushed, and no part of her resisted. It was raw and tender at the same time; something understood between them without words. And when the moment overcame him, when her body gripped around him, his breath broke apart against the back of her neck...He sank deep, burying himself completely into her anal hole as the climax took him. His voice cracked low in his throat, her name escaping in a quiet whisper, shaken by the aftermath of blissfulness. The silence that followed was thick with heat and closeness, followed by the only sentence he could manage was one laced in wonder:
“I wonder if we still have some of that wine stashed away, over there?”
