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Out of the corner of his eye, at the head of the table, he caught the action; an innocent nibbling of her plump lower lip and he was entranced. An idle gesture in concentration while she dutifully took notes, yet it masterfully took hold of his entire attention. Her haunting scarlet eyes were alight with interest, eagerly absorbing the meeting and conversation around her.
There was nothing particularly special about this gathering, the standard quarterly event of overlords descending upon his palace under the facade of sharing ideas and hearing reports, as if he cared in the slightest. Truthfully, he only continued the charade to inconvenience all the other lords of hell, delighting in the whispered complaints and curses made under their breath.
Unsurprisingly, she took it very seriously, the stunning queen of hell, as part of her passionate desire to make a difference to her subjects everywhere, in any way she was able. Perhaps some things would never change, her innocent heart, her idealistic dreams, her ethereal beauty. Even now, studiously documenting every meaningless word from each equally meaningless overlord, she easily drew his notice. Not unlike her mother, Charlie donned a sinful black dress, encrusted in dazzling crystals that danced in the light, and low cut to expose the ample, creamy pearlescent flesh of her breasts, that made him ache with want. A regal crown perched upon her gorgeous, honey mane which cascaded over her shoulder, like liquid gold, and he hadn’t realized he was staring, until those shimmering ruby eyes met his and she gave him a knowing, shy smile.
An impish grin was all she received in return from the king before she felt a whisper of a touch near her ankle, a barely there caress that made her wonder if an errant breeze had blown through the room. Then bold fingers slid up her legs, calves, knees, charting a path higher and higher on her body, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake, until her audible gasp drew the gaze of a few demons sitting nearest to her. Charlie’s already rosy cheeks blistered in embarrassment.
Mumbling a quick apology, she stole a glance underneath the table and started at the bright blue eyes that met her, its wide, curving maw the tell-tale sign of Alastor’s shadow. Slowly, deliberately so, it pushed her thighs apart, just enough for it to squeeze between them comfortably, the high slit of her dress accommodating the movement, and it licked and nipped at her skin in anticipation. The sensations were there, but only just, strange half-feelings of a shade, yet when its slimy tongue met the heat of her uncovered, wet cunt, the queen had to bite down on the side of her cheek to keep from moaning aloud, desire blooming along every nerve.
Enthusiastically it went to work, worshipfully licking her folds, from hole to clit, over and over until her grip on the sides of her chair threatened to splinter the wood. Jaws opening wider, that devoted tongue thrust inside, drinking of her hot center, and it was all she could do not to sink down in her chair to push it deeper. Bowing her head slightly to hide under the curtain of her hair, she held fast against the devious assault on her pussy, and she did all she could to quiet the noises of pleasure threatening to pour forth from behind pursed lips.
Oh, how he loved watching his beloved squirm. From under thick eyelashes she unabashedly met his gaze as his shadow devoured her. Through it, her saccharine taste exploded in his mouth, and she drowned his senses; wave after wave of her arousal washing over him, while her quickened breath threatened to cause her glorious cleavage to spill free from the containment of her tight dress and her cheeks aglow with a sweet, love drunk blush. Hells, she was mesmerizing.
At the lingering mundane chatter, his gaze quickly swept the room. Attuned as the moth demon was to lust, Alastor thought it would be Valentino that first picked up on his paramour’s muted signs of ecstasy. Yet, surprisingly, it was Vox. The media mogul sitting opposite the head of the table, leaned back and arms crossed, and stare fixed upon his wife. If there was one thing that technological menace paid attention to, more than himself, it was his surroundings, his audience. It made him as compelling as he was deadly.
Leering boldly, a wicked grin split the television’s pixelated face, “What a captivating performance. You belong on the big screen, meine hübsche Königin.”
With the simple comment, the spell was broken, and all present looked to Vox, only to follow his gaze back to the queen, who finally came undone at the skill of that tongue. Tossing her head back in a passionate cry, she moaned as she rode her orgasm, cheeks burning from the moment tinged with embarrassment. When she finally opened her eyes an eternity later, each and every overlord was watching her with an eager attentiveness, which only fueled the throbbing in her cunt.
“Damn baby,” Valentino purred next to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders as the lower arm stroked up her thigh. “Need Daddy Val to pound the rest of that lust out of you?”
And almost like magic, his invitation had her gaze lowering to the sizeable erection straining against his black thong. It was as the towering pimp was pulling her in for a kiss that the shadow beneath her swept her up out of her chair and laid her like a feast upon the long dining table.
Standing slowly, a predatory grin tugging at his lips, the Radio Demon looked down at his prize. The jealously was there, undoubtedly, but here was an opportunity he could not let go to waste, to revel in the envy of his lessers, to give them a glimpse of what he indulged in daily. Greedily his claws seized her hips and yanked her to him.
“This is taken, I’m afraid,” Alastor hummed, unzipping his trousers to pull himself free, and wasting little time in inserting himself deep in her still-twitching pussy, groaning his approval at her little yip and tight heat. “But, for a limited time only, you may take your pleasure with my stunning bride.”
It was a flurry of movement above and around her. Chair legs scraping the floor, others falling back entirely, their tumbling muted by the plush carpet. Some left, she could tell by the doors opening and closing again, but most stayed. And everywhere there were lips, tongues, and bodies on her. Velvet had crawled atop her, biting and sucking on her breasts with a ferocity that had Charlie arching off the table. Rock hard dicks had found their way into each hand, one must have been Valentino’s from the sheer size of it, with the grunts of other demons getting off on or near her. And through the haze of it all, she felt him, her husband, thrusting relentlessly into her as all thought faded from her mind, adrift in the hedonistic miasma that filled the room.
Mewling wantonly, she rest her golden head back upon the wine-red table, glowing ruby eyes heavily lidded and rolling back, drifting to the illuminated screen of the television overlord. He sat perfectly composed despite the debauchery going on around him, elbows on the arms of his chair and fingers steepled under what she supposed was the closest equivalent to a chin he had. Smirk wide, and mismatched eyes knowing, the look was both dangerous and oozing of superiority. Her body clenched down on Alastor’s cock, who grunted in response.
“Tell me what you want, meine liebling,” he ordered firmly, the thick static to his voice bending it to something deeper and darker, and reminding her so much of Alastor that she whined.
“Your cock…please, my lord…,” she whispered and then tilted her head back, mouth open and tongue laid over her bottom lip to give him clear entry to her throat.
Standing, he approached her slowly, a showman until the end, and when that long, metallically ridged cock entered her, filling her utterly until all she could taste and smell was Vox, she came again, crying out around her mouthful and wringing the first orgasm from her king.
Watching his wife come so undone, how each overlord lusted and partook of his offering, of her luscious body, was gratifying in a way that took Alastor by surprise. But when Vox entered her mouth, gently cradling her head, and his eyes met his rival’s, it was like a freight train plowed into him and his thrusts dissolved into sporadic, uneven things, his seed filling the womb of his beloved, as his mind went completely blank.
When he came to, Charlie lay on the table, covered in fluids, chest heaving in her exhaustion, and fast asleep. The room was quiet and empty, save for the motorized whirring of Vox’s breathing. That thought alone snapped him awake and just as he turned to his side to address the threat, he found he was eye level with that fat cock that been down his wife’s throat.
“Clean it,” the taller demon commanded, and at the hint of protest he added, “I prevented any pathetic degenerates from having our succulent queen while you were dozing like a baby, but I had her. Devilishly delicious thing, that woman, and I made sure she loved every second of it. But now I need to get going and I can’t have Charlie’s juices dripping from me all day.”
Rage built inside of him at this filth daring to order him around, but damn it all, he could smell her on that biconical monstrosity in front of him, and when neon blue claws threaded in his hair and pulled his face down onto it, his lips opened willingly. Rolling his eyes back, he got lost in the sensation. Dark navy skin that was like velvet, with ridges of the smoothest alloy pushed to the back of his throat, warm and hard, cool and electric, coated in her essence and his own seed, and it was not unlike being drunk.
Roughly his rival face fucked him, their groans and grunts a heated mating call and response that filled the dead air. When warms lips wrapped around his own cock, he moaned around the hard flesh in his mouth, the vibrations pushing the television over the edge and slamming Alastor’s nose down to his hips, impaling himself in the deer’s throat. The Radio Demon did his best to swallow around the thick cum and, coupled with Charlie’s pouty lips suckling eagerly at him, he finally came, filling his wife’s waiting mouth in return.
The monarchs were disheveled when their last guest left their palace. Dazed and confused as to how one meeting could devolve so quickly, yet both thoroughly sated. Mischievously the golden-haired queen eyed her husband.
“So, Vox, huh?” She quipped, dissolving into delightful giggling when he glared at her.