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A frolic in Times Square. Our heroine makes her choice.
Making do with what she had, Tascha gave Wanda's clit a vigorous and enthusiastic licking, which soon made the sister cry out with an intense and prolonged orgasm.
Wanda was replaced by another, and then another and another. Tascha's jaw began to get sore from all her work, and she lost count of how many women had sat on her face. She was grateful for the pillow Daphne had had put under her head, though Tascha was sure that was for the sake of Daphne's own knees rather than Tascha's head and neck. Tascha was beginning to worry what would happen to her when she was unable to continue licking, when a woman climbed off her and wasn't immediately replaced. Tascha looked around and saw that there were now far fewer sisters in the hall. The party was winding down.
Tascha lay there on her back, wondering what in the world was going to happen next, until she saw Brigit standing over her with a smug smile. It looked to Tascha as if the blonde Viking woman was trying to think of the right quip. If so, Brigit decided to say nothing. Instead, she bent down, slipped one arm under Tascha's legs and the other under her back, and lifted Tascha as if she were a small child. Without saying a word, she carried Tascha out of the hall.
Though she was a bit concerned that Daphne might be mad if she returned to find her gone, Tascha didn't really have any choice in the matter. In any case, she had to admit she liked being carried along with her head against Brigit's soft, naked breast, smelling the flowers that hung around Brigit's neck. The ride was short, though, as Brigit made quick progress to her destination. After climbing up several flights of dilapidated stone stairs, and moving down a darkened corridor, Brigit shoved aside a hanging cloth in a doorway and carried Tascha into a bedroom lit by torches mounted on the walls. Tascha was half-laid and half-dropped on a low bed in the middle of the room.
Brigit smiled down at Tascha and said, "Now we can be alone for a while." She leaned down and kissed Tascha's forehead, and then, quickly untied the bindings that held the spreader in place between her knees, tossing the spreader off to the side. Then, with confident grace, she lay down next to Tascha and ran her strong hand up inside Tascha's thigh. Brigit ran her other hand over Tascha's hair, as the one between Tascha's legs slipped up to touch Tascha's painfully neglected crotch. There was nothing tentative about the way Brigit cupped Tascha in her firm grasp. The heel of her palm was pressed against Tascha's clit and her strong, calloused fingers pushed against Tascha's very moist and eager pussy. Brigit rocked her hand against Tascha, and began to part her lips to push a finger or two into her, but Tascha was already coming.
More than a day and a night without sex, hours of mounting frustration, watching and then participating in unbridled lesbian sex without any release, and, finally, being in the power of this strong, confident, beautiful woman had brought Tascha to a fevered pitch of sexual excitement. The attention now given to her was more than enough to push Tascha over the edge. She arched her back and groaned, clenching her teeth and straining against the leather that still tied her wrists to her ankles.
When Tascha finally fell back against the bed and opened her eyes, she saw Brigit smiling down at her with an amused expression. "That was nice," the blonde said. "Let's see you do that again."
Immediately, Tascha felt Brigit's strong, yet delicate touch between her slippery lips.