Marke poured a drizzle on her back, some of it pooling on her hip dips.
Marke wondered what it would be like to take a sip. But the idea was denied.
"You must be fun at parties," he praised.
Mrs. Tero giggled. "Back in college I used to be."
"Oh, she used to be real fun at parties, all right," Ms. Terri teased while stifling a laugh. "Wild as a lion let out into a barn."
"Shush!" Mrs. Tero frowned at Ms. Terri. "The past is the past. No point thinking about it." Marke wholeheartedly concurred internally. The future held too much hope for him to look back.
Getting to his knees, he placed both his palms on her back, channeling Cold Touch, and applied pressure, feeling knots on her left side.
His fingers dug in.
Mia let out a hiss, exhaling a breath sharply through her lips, cheeks clenching, and more indents forming on the surface.
This won't do. Marke thought, pulling the front of his brief—which constrained his shaft—and letting the beast out for some air.
Should I? He wondered.
The women were more than willing. Nope. Don't be too hasty. Points foremost. Else they think you're a gigolo, and then you won't have any respect left. He told himself.
"Massage with the Massuer's co*k out. What a service." Ms. Terri blew air towards his shaft, her breath grazing it and causing it to twitch, and chuckled at the sight.
But he paid her no mind.
Cold energy transmitting through his fingertips, he massaged her back, the diamond-shaped cut-out of her silver one-piece bikini giving ample room for him to maneuver. From the middle, he traveled upwards, just under her neck, pushing out knots, massaging her shoulders over the material of her bikini; with each exhale, a light moan escaped her throat, the lobes of her ears went red, and a scent distinct from the perfume and wine graced his nostrils.
"Oh, that's good. Right there, yeah. Yes. Ohhh, yes." The woman uttered shakily throughout the massage.
[Profession Point: 1]
He smiled. The woman was wet. "Mrs. Tero—"
"Mia," the woman corrected, her right cheek glued to the marbled floor with her arms splayed to the sides, brown irises shifting to look at him, forehead coated in a thin layer of perspiration as she breathed through her mouth. "Call me Mia."
"Sure." Marke smiled. "Can we take that off you, Mia?"
"Mmhm." She nodded, closing her eyes. She had no intention of helping him out.
He slid the straps of the one-piece off her shoulder, fitting to her skin like a second skin, peeling it off her, pausing to lift the woman by her hip a little so he could roll it off her breasts easier and without causing the woman unintended pain, jugs squished against the floor spilling out as he rolled the bikini completely off her.
Mrs. Tero lay before him in all her naked glory.
The latex bikini had left marks, lines like decorations on her skin where the creases dug into. A lacy red thong shielded her muff from his eyes.
If he wished, he could have all this light-skin goodness for himself right now.
Patience. Marke consoled his little brother. It will be glorious.
Cupping his palm over her back, he poured a handful of wine, allowing it to trickle onto the woman, and set his palms on her again.
"Oh~."
Another moan from her throat.
He smoothed out the lines left by the attire, massaged her neck and arms, and then reached her booty, squeezing it rather than working on it. Out of sheer curiosity, he slapped one of her cheeks, ripples spreading like hurling a large rock into a still lake.
"Huck!" Mia let out a yelp, looking back at him.
"Couldn't resist." Marke shrugged, being honest.
The woman merely smiled. "It's no problem."
Her smile was sweet and appeared genuine. Spreading her legs, he sat in between them and, with both palms, began massaging the cheeks, poking into them, spreading them, and chopping lightly. The massage was focused, fingers unraveling the knots on her thighs.
"Hmm. Yes. Right there. Huff. Huff. Right there, Marke." Mia moaned all the while
Mia exhaled a long breath, followed by a peculiar smell unlike the wine and perfume, as she clenched her thighs.
[Profession Point: 2] [Profession Point: 3] He had even gained another stat point. It was a pleasant surprise. As Mia gasped for breath, she stared with owlish eyes at the floor, startled and pleasantly surprised. "Okay, that was...something. Time out, please. I'm a little sensitive now."
"Done already?" Ms. Terri spat with disdain, "That's pathetic."
Mia raised her left hand with effort, the middle finger standing proud. "Screw...you," she sputtered, closing her eyes and resting.
Marke turned to Ms. Terri, who was lying on her side, the striped bikini top held up on her breasts by diamond-hard nipples. He drew a circle in the air. "Turn around, woman," he said. Should I? He considered his words next. Ms. Terri didn't seem the type to mind when teased. She rather liked it, he guessed. "Else I'll have Mia pour wine on you while I massage you."
Ms. Terri stared at him, feline eyes squinting, before her plump lips pulled to a wide smile. "Do it, then," she challenged, lying on her back with the navel ring visible. "By the looks of it, she can barely stand. Hey, was it that good?" The woman asked.
"Uh-huh." Mia nodded, her left arm snaking under her body, a finger trailing the fabric of her panties over her muff. The woman was horny.
Getting between the legs of Ms. Terri, Marke sighed. "Why are you so difficult?" He grabbed her thighs. He didn't feel the cold energy dance within his fingertips. Activate Cold Touch. He thought, and as expected, another point in stamina dropped, the energy coiling in his fingers again.
Have to activate the skill each time I switch to another woman. Got it. He made a note.
Ms. Terri's lips parted as he put her thighs on his shoulders, and the energy coiled within her, their gazes clashing as Marke began massaging without prying his gaze away from hers.
"Impressive," Ms. Terri praised, biting her lower lip.
"I'm going to need you to shut your mouth while I do this, Ms. Terri." He reached out with his right hand, middle finger stretched out, and held it up over her lips. "Suck on this while I do my job."
He was going to have to give her something so the woman would shut up and not provoke him into plowing into her.
With his middle finger, he probed her lips, trailing it across the plump lips in white lipstick, and wiggled it between her lips, asking for permission to intrude.
Grabbing his arm, she pulled him forward, lips parting as his finger entered the cavity, lips closing around the base of his finger as she sucked with intensity, like trying to suck out the last bit of liquid from a juice box through the straws, eyes never leaving him, tongue lathering each inch of his appendage with saliva.
A moan from Mia called his attention. The woman was still rubbing her muff over her panties, observing Marke and Kein, breathing heavily.
Marke liked where this was going.