Comfort Food

It was his turn to host the “dessert” portion of the circle dinners. The hors d’oeuvres were at Carol and Amy’s house, a selection of cheeses and exotic crackers. Amy had crawled from person to person, the tray carefully mounted on her bare back, her horse’s accoutrements gleaming with polish, her long lustrous tail trailing on the floor between her legs. The main course had been roast beef,  beautifully served by Chuck’s lovely, naked wife Anna.

Quint had spent many long hours laboring over dessert. Cooking was not his forte, but he had needed to host, and he figured dessert was the easiest part of the meal. Getting his subbie to go along with it had been amusing. All in all this would be a very fun end to a very fun event.

Even the guests were getting naked now, which fit with his choice all the better.

Carefully he tapped his wineglass for their attention. He had them stand together in an open circle, then left for the kitchen.

The guests all looked at each other inquiringly as they heard the squeak of wheels. What had he come up with?

As one, they gasped, then spontaneous applause broke out. He wheeled the long silver table into the living room, and with a flourish, invited one and all to begin partaking of his dessert.

She lay perfectly still, a recumbent statue of chocolate. Syrup dripped down her thighs, while hardened thicknesses of it coated her tits, her mons, even her fingers.

Dots of whipped cream on each breast and a trail of it leading down to where her pussy lips were delineated with the rich dark sin.

She moaned as 9 mouths came down and began to devour.