Hansel and Gretel With the Sexual Hunter (5 page)

She then felt a hot tongue licking away the cold.

She opened her eyes. Hansel had his head buried between
her thighs and was sucking at that bit of popsicle, which now felt like a cold
slush inside of her.

He licked harder, with strong laps, warming back to
life her folds and entrance. Thank goodness he understood what she was going
through. He clearly worked at getting rid of the ice that was freezing her from
the inside out. And that meant heating her from the inside out with a lot of
tongue-lapping friction and lip sucking action.

The cold turned into hot tingles across her body.

“Pump her with it,” Wicka instructed Hansel.

Hansel pushed the remainder of the popsicle in and out
of Gretel, and licked every where the melted ice dripped out of her. The whole
process started over. The cold, the numbness, the warm strokes of Hansel’s
tongue, the jolts of fire streaking throughout her body and peaking at her
nipples.

Her breasts needed attention. Wicka seemed to pick up
her desire because she yanked down Gretel’s bra and cupped Gretel’s breasts
with gentle touches. Her hands felt cool and soft. They wasted no time in
making Gretel’s nipples hard. Prickles of delicious sensations danced across
her chest. Wicka was staring at her, nostrils flaring with desire. Was that
love in her eyes? Or was it sorrow?

All the while, Hansel licked and sucked on her,
thrusting his tongue as deep as he could go to melt and burn away the ice
inside of her.

That was strange. One of her legs felt free to move. Gretel
noticed her ankle on the hidden side of Wicka was no longer tied up. Hansel had
probably untied her.

So that was his plan. Hansel would untie her while
Wicka was distracted.

Hansel’s head still mashed between her legs, he kept on
servicing her, sending waves of heat washing through her. Gretel noticed that
the only thing left of the popsicle was the stick. The rest had melted inside
of her and had been swallowed by Hansel.

Gretel’s eyes widened. Wicka was taking out three more
popsicles. Lemon, lime, and watermelon.

“Let’s get her motor really going.” Wicka unwrapped all
three and handed them to Hansel. “Shove all three of these up inside her at the
same time.”

Hansel took and held the three popsicles by their
sticks in one hand. Gretel wondered,
Can
he see by my face how anxious I am at the prospect of all that cold inside of
me?

“Hand me the chocolate sauce first,” he told Wicka.

“Mmm. I like where this is going.” She went to the
countertop of ice-cream toppings and snatched the plastic bottle of chocolate
syrup.

Hansel took it and held the three popsicles upright
with one hand as he poured the chocolate sauce over them with his other hand.

Coating it with chocolate was a good idea. Maybe it
wouldn’t feel as cold.

“Jack those things in and out of her,” Wicka said.

Hansel checked Gretel’s face. Gretel noticed he was
waiting for her consent. She nodded.

He pushed all three popsicles inside her. Cold! Cold!
Cold! She felt her pussy stretch wide to accommodate them. Hansel pulled them
out a bit and pushed them back in. The stretching of her pussy felt incredible.
As he thrust the popsicles in and out of her, they started to melt. She
clenched and realized it was a mistake. The constriction made the popsicles
slide off of their sticks as Hansel pulled the sticks out. Now she was filled
with the slush of three popsicles.

Cold! Cold! Cold!

Gretel tried to push them out, but Wicka thrust two
fingers inside.

“Nuh, uh.” Wicka wiggled her fingers, stirring the
slush. “Hansel is going to have to suck them out. After all, he needs to be
properly trained on how to please you.”

Hansel poured more chocolate syrup over Gretel’s pussy
and licked up the mix of chocolate and melted ice. His tongue was so hot
compared to the lingering slush inside. The sensation made her groan.

Wicka had an arm around Gretel’s shoulders and started jack-hammering
her fingers into Gretel, igniting sparks between her legs. Wicka clamped her
mouth over Gretel’s breast, and those sparks turned into an all-out bonfire.

Gretel felt herself close to climax.

Wicka’s tongue swirled around her nipple and Hansel’s
licks became more fervent. Was he getting turned on by the sight of Wicka at
her breast?

Gretel no longer felt the popsicles anymore. They had
completely melted away out of her pussy and down Hansel’s throat.

Wicka removed her fingers and grabbed the bottle of
chocolate sauce from Hansel. Hansel kept on sucking Gretel. Wicka poured the
chocolate syrup all over Gretel’s breasts. She rubbed Gretel’s breasts, painted
them dark with finger-painting strokes and licked them clean. That bonfire
inside of Gretel exploded into her second orgasm and she shuddered and convulsed.

***

Hansel wasn’t finished. He needed to untie Gretel’s
other binds. He stuck his own two fingers into her, demanding that she move on
to a third climax. Wicka poured chocolate sauce over Hansel fingers.
 

As he pummeled her with his fingers, he licked around
his fingers and collected the chocolate that dripped over her folds. While
Gretel moaned, Hansel’s cock grew. He felt such power over her, his every lick,
his every suck. Her pleasure was entirely in his command.

“Here’s your next lesson.” Wicka poured chocolate syrup
on Gretel’s clit.

Hansel sucked on it. The taste of the chocolate combined
with the thrill of turning Gretel on made his head giddy.

Wicka bent over, putting her head closer between Gretel’s
legs, and grabbed his cock. Hansel tried to remain focused on licking off the
chocolate syrup, but the way the hunter squeezed his cock to full attention got
him to lean back and rest for a moment to take it in.

“Watch and learn,” Wicka said.

Wicka poured more syrup on Gretel’s clit and began sucking
it herself. Hansel watched Gretel’s body writhe as she squealed with pleasure. He
had never seen Gretel so beautiful. If tasting her gave her this much pleasure,
he’d be willing to do it anytime, anywhere. At a park, in a restaurant, on a
plane. That squeal of hers turned him on more than ever. He kept right on
fingering her, feeling Wicka’s tongue around his fingers.

Wicka was pumping up and down his length and felt
incredible. Was this wrong? Was this cheating on Gretel? By Gretel’s moans of
ecstasy, it hardly seemed so. It felt more like Wicka shared with him a common
goal: to please Gretel.

Wicka came back up for air from between Gretel’s thighs
and poured more of the sauce down Gretel’s slit. Hansel moved his head forward
to lap it up but accidentally butted heads with Wicka who was also trying for
it. Hansel and Wicka looked at each other and laughed. She placed her free hand
on his head and pushed him aside playfully as she swooped down to feast on Gretel.

Hansel thrust three fingers inside Gretel. With his
other hand, he reached for the back of Gretel’s chair to untie her wrists.

They might be able to take control of the situation if
both of them had their hands free. As much as they needed to stop Wicka, Hansel
was going to be sorry to see her go. She was the catalyst that sparked the
sexual chemistry between Gretel and himself.

He was almost done freeing Gretel who was wiggling and
squealing with glee. Once free, Gretel could hold Wicka down and Hansel could
use the rope from Gretel’s binds to tie Wicka up. Once she was secured, they
could work out what to do next.

Hansel untied the last knot. Gretel’s hands were now
free.

But Hansel didn’t take into account the timing of Gretel’s
next orgasm. She used her free hands to push Wicka’s face into her pussy and
cried out, “I’m close. Keep going.”

Wicka suddenly stood upright with a chocolate chin and
grabbed Gretel’s wrists. Her eyes darted between Hansel and Gretel.

Hansel bolted from the seat, his ankles still tied to
the chair. He wrapped his arms around Wicka to hold her back from his beloved. “Please
don’t hurt her.”

Wicka looked as though she were reassessing the
situation. She released Gretel’s wrists and said to Hansel, “Let go of me.”

After a beat, Hansel loosened his grip and dropped his
hands.
 

“Pretty sneaky,” Wicka said at last. “But I decided a
long time ago not to go through with the assignment. You’re going to leave here
alive and well.”

Why did Hansel believe her? There was something about
the way she said it. Maybe it was the fact that she said it at all. She could
have jumped for a weapon. She could have fought back. Instead, she spoke to
them. The truth was, Hansel thought, she could have killed us while we were
unconscious. Maybe she decided to let us go before we came to.

“The trouble is,” Wicka added, “your families want you
dead and may hire someone else to finish the job. But I can protect you. If you
stay with me. What do you think?”

Hans thought about it. Staying with this woman seemed
dangerous, but based on everything he’s seen this woman do, the danger was not
about surviving. If anything, with the skills this woman had, their lives would
be in good hands. The danger was about keeping his own hands to himself. The
way she moved, the way she dressed, the way she encouraged sex. Wicka would be
a hard woman to resist. Still, the way Gretel seemed to enjoy herself with
Wicka. Was it possible…?

He said to Gretel, “I’m having bad thoughts.”

“Me too.” Gretel’s words were a relief.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I thought you might.”

Wicka looked back and forth between the two. She said
to Hansel, “What was that about? What’s your plan?”

“Same as before,” Hansel said. “To throw you into the
oven.”

Hansel forced Wicka’s head against Gretel’s pussy and Wicka
started laughing. By the way Gretel was moaning, it was clear the assassin was
firing her tongue into Gretel, again. Gretel grabbed hold of Wicka’s head and
bent over her. Though Hansel’s ankles were still tied to the chair, he found he
could stand up. That gave Hansel better reach. He stood and caressed Gretel,
running his hands through her hair, stroking her shoulders and back. Gretel
raised her head and he kissed her passionately. She broke the kiss and shouted
and shuddered and convulsed and writhed.

The assassin returned upright. When it was clear that Gretel
had come back to the planet, she put her arms out to Hansel. He leaned over to
give Gretel a kiss.

Her lips were tender.

After the kiss, she said, “Mmm. Chocolate.”

She put her arms out to Wicka. She kissed her.

Hansel was still hard from Wicka’s attention. Seeing
the two kiss made him even harder.

Gretel placed a hand on the back of Wicka’s head and on
the back of Hansel’s head, coaxing them to kiss.

Really, Hansel asked himself. Kissing another woman? There
was something that seemed so much more intimate about a kiss. Gretel must have
noticed his surprise because she nodded as though to answer his question.

Hansel kissed Wicka. Wicka’s lips tasted of chocolate
and of his fiancée.

“It’s your turn,” Gretel said to Wicka.

***

With her binds completely untied, Gretel stood and
kissed Wicka. Gretel had never before kissed lips so soft. And that was why she
kissed this woman, right? To feel those soft lips, and to perform for Hansel.

It’s not as if I’m bisexual, Gretel told herself. But
by the way her heart pounded and knees melted under this gorgeous woman’s kiss,
Gretel knew she was kidding herself.

Gretel broke the kiss and saw Hansel standing behind
Wicka. He had his arms around Wicka, his hands inside her catsuit directly on the
woman’s breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples.

A pain hit Gretel’s heart. She ignored it.

“Sit down on the floor,” Gretel instructed.

The hunter complied. Gretel pulled off Wicka’s catsuit
and panties.

Hansel still wore his tux as he sat on the floor with
his legs flat on the ground and open. Wicka sat between his legs and lay back,
her head resting on his chest. She had her knees up and legs spread apart. Hansel
continued to touch Wicka’s breasts, fondling them, caressing them, massaging
them.

That pain in Gretel’s heart returned. She wondered what
she was feeling. Was it jealousy? It was. But Gretel knew that how she reacted
to something was her choice. She was still in control. Right now, more than
anything, she wanted to please Wicka.

Gretel hitched up her skirt and got to her knees
between Wicka’s legs. She slid a finger up and down separating Wicka’s cleft.
The whole time she monitored Wicka’s reaction. Did Wicka like it? Did she love
it?

Wicka smiled right back as if waiting for more.

So Gretel kissed her clit. Wicka stroked Gretel’s hair.
Their breaths worked together.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Gretel licked her clit once. Tart. She licked again. Harder
this time.
There
was the moan from
Wicka’s lips that Gretel was waiting for.

Gretel pushed a finger in. The inside of Wicka’s pussy
felt the same as her own. Tasting it, however. That was a different story. She
had never tasted a pussy directly. She had only tasted her own on her fingers.

Wicka whispered something to Hansel. She wasn’t sure
what.

Gretel pushed two fingers in. Then three. She lapped at
the sides of Wicka’s folds, drinking her in, noticing the direct response from
each lick and thrust with each gasp and moan. That look of bliss on Wicka’s
face snipped away any threads of jealousy inside Gretel’s heart. Wicka was
responding to Gretel’s touch.
Her
fingers,
her
licks,
her
thrusts.

It didn’t take long for Wicka’s climax to come. She
pressed Gretel’s head against her pussy and cried out.