The Slave Sultana 6. The Love

Already, she blushed, an afterglow of pride bathed her. She made another audible gulp, then another, finishing half of the contents with a closed eyed smile, and when she opened her mouth gaping wide, there was a shivering spider web that spun between the four quarters of her teeth. The slave's eyes instantly drew wide- so wide they were like white lychees popping out of their shells, and his inky jaws slackened as this most haram, most unimaginable of flagrant perversion, which she flaunted between her teeth. But before he could make a single sound, she swallowed back and the salty webs dissapeared in her tongue. Like a magician, she gulped- this time completing it with a purr. 

But that was not the end of her scene, for she intended to do more.

Her long fingers fished deep and scraped the bottom of the bowl, reverently and gingerly licked up and clean up the juicy coils that still lingered there with her pink tongue, horizontally, then vertically, then diagonally, until the object, like a crime scene is completely spotless again. But this too, was not the end, still appearing to be unsatisfied, her lingers flew deep into the hollows of the slimy tube and evenly scraped its deepest recesses.

With a thrilling yelp, she marveled at the gray- gold knob of thick lumpy grease that gathered on her finger tips. They looked like tallow- half crumbled the other half as wet as mud, and there was no truth lost between both her and her watcher for it was indeed cheese of a sort. She pressed each knob of paste her tongue tips until it was beaten paste- then, only, then, after assured that she would in this state completely taste all of it, she swallowed it, licking each of her dirtied fingers, letting the slave to marvel at her bottomless insatiability.

"Please tell His Majesty-" her voice was airy, drunken, and desperate like a triumphant nymph, or Venus cooing in her afterglow, totally ignoring the popping sweat upon her listener's ebony head