This story is rated R. You can read part 1 here.
The bittersweet: Part 2
Jack’s expression was cool as he settled on the stool Ethena had provided. “I can’t imagine I can entertain you with my motley singing.”
Humble was he?
“Sing us a song about a maiden, a beautiful maiden,” Ethena pressed, settled at the foot of the bed, modestly, for now. Lacie sat by the window, hands nervously treading the curtains.
“Isn’t there work to be done? Or are you simply wasting my father’s time?”
“You’ll be paid, well, just a song or two. You sang so beautifully, don’t tell me you can’t do it again.”
He crossed his legs, rubbing his tan fingers together. “One, perhaps… no more.”
Ethena felt that excited flutter in her chest. “I promise.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, as though he was trying to imagine that he was alone.
“The maiden brushes back her hair
Pieces of the moon
Fall into her eyes
I cannot retrieve them
But the night is never dark
With her star to guide me
The maiden plucks flowers from her hair
The petals drift on the river
And float away
I cannot retrieve them
But beauty is ever at hand
Resting in the roses of her cheeks”
Ethena adjusted her bodice, pushing up her ample breasts, she was more than damp between the legs now, his voice sending thrills up and down her spine.
“The maiden strums my heart
Playing heavenly melodies
The strings snap delicate
I cannot fix them
Yet she does not cease
To fill me with song”
She pulled her skirts up to her knees. Oh God, what if this song was about her?
“The maiden is my moon
The maiden is my rose
The maiden is my song
What else shall I long for?”
When he stopped singing, Lacie jerked, as if coming out of a trance, eyes all wide. “Where’d you learn to sing such beautiful songs?” she asked, her fingers still mauling the curtains.
“I write them ma’am.”
“Of course.” Ethena rose from the bed. “A smart, handsome, boy, like you.” She loosed her long dark hair, the hair of the maiden, drawing nearer to him. “Of course you write your own songs.” He was eyeing her as she leaned forward, her breasts spilling out. “Tell me, can you teach me to sing like that?”
“An insufferable whore like you?”
Ethena gave a little squeak of indignation that sounded nigh a hiccup. She readjusted her bodice, throwing him a dirty look. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“All the boys talk about you.”
“And do you like what you hear?” She tried to put a little sultry tone back in her voice.
Jack rose slowly but deliberately. “I prefer more of a, challenge.”
“I can be challenging,” Ethena blurted without thinking.
“I bet you can.” He looked snide as held a hand out to Lacie. “I don’t believe I’ve made your proper acquaintance.”
Lacie teetered, looking paler than ever, hands abandoning the curtains, trying to steady herself, trying to rise. He motioned that she should remain seated, capturing her hand instead and kissing it.
“What is your name?” he asked, kneeling at her feet, looking intently concerned that he should learn it.
“Lacie.” She sounded like a very scared mouse.
“Do you always watch?”
“Sometimes, when Ethena lets me.”
“All the time,” Ethena snapped, glaring at Lacie. Was she trying to make her look bad?
“Watching is nothing near participating. Would you like to try participating?” Jack stroked her hand tenderly, comfortingly. Lacie nodded so hard her brown curls bounced.
Ethena wringed her hands. What was this?
The room filled with the sound of rustling skirts as Jack uncovered her thighs, laying his warm hands here and there. Lacie just stared down at him, eyes red and strange. He was quick to pull down her undergarments, then kiss where his hands had laid, then higher, so that Lacie almost slammed her knees together against his head with a jerk, giggling.
The heat was rising on Ethena’s cheeks, her mouth gaping like a fish searching for water, as she watched Lacie’s face contort with pleasure, again and again. He was kissing her so tenderly between the legs. Then- “You’re my guest, not hers!”
His head lifted, his sand gold eyes fixing on Lacie’s heaving bosom. “May I ask you how you intend to stop me?”
Lacie whimpered, the little whore. Ethena could see her fat thighs trembling with desire. Ethena grabbed at his cotton shirt, but he was like a rock. “You’re beyond horrid, a horrid, horrid guest.”
He had already disappeared between Lacie’s thighs again, making her gasp. Ethena was on the verge of tears, like a child spoilt on their birthday. She twisted at his shirt, trying to choke him, but he was like a bull, steady and single-minded, his strong hands pushing Lacie’s thighs open wider, his tongue licking wet now, so that she took to howling right along with Ethena.
“You must stop! You must stop! You must stop!” Ethena howled uselessly, trying to be heard over Lacie.
Lacie’s eyes grew wider than ever, and she gave a long low moan, different than the rest, her hips rising off the chair, his hands sliding under, supporting her ecstasy. Then it was over, Lacie collapsing as though every fiber of her being had been loosened.
Jack reached back, pulling Ethena’s hand away from his shirt, turning, giving her a dark look. “You spoilt little whore. Can anyone else enjoy themselves, or must it only be you?”
Ethena had no answer for that. He rose, the heat radiating off of his body in waves, crashing against her skin as he came nearer, only to turn away.
“I have sung you a song. I must be on my way.”