jokaste watching/telling kastor what to do while he's fucking kallias
The fig was perfectly ripe in Jokaste’s hand. She turned it over, running her thumb over the plum skin as she leaned forward.
“He likes that,” she said, lifting it to her mouth. “Don’t stop.”
Sweetness coated the inside of her lips as she watched, careful to not make any noise while she chewed. It wouldn’t matter, she supposed, the sound of fucking was certainly more consuming than eating. Still, she saw no need to turn slovenly.
Kastor wouldn’t have noticed, even if she had taken three figs in her hands and swallowed them all down in succession. He was too occupied, focused, all of his attention on the blue-eyed beauty panting on his back.
“Very good,” Jokaste said, her eyes following the way Kastor pushed the slave’s thigh up, pushed his cock deeper inside him. The slave’s mouth fell open, moaning like he was trained to. “See how much he likes that?”
Probably, he didn’t like it. Odds were the slave didn’t even know what his own preferences were, not that that mattered. He still took it like he was grateful for it, and Kastor still gave it to him like this was something everyone was getting enjoyment out of.
Jokaste crossed her legs as she took another bite. It was odd to see Kastor like this, in a position so intimate to allow eye contact. Kastor liked his slaves on their stomach, just like he liked his woman and his men. But Jokaste had said she’d wanted it like this, and like usual, he continued to bend to her will.
She tilted her head, watching Kastor’s arms flex and his brow line with sweat. The muscles in his back rippled, he looked like a man driven solely by his pleasure. It was an attractive look. She wondered if that was how Damen looked when he took her.
