The Encounter

She woke suddenly from a deep sleep. The full moon streamed across her face, leaving the rest of her room in deep darkness.

What the hell had awoken her. She blinked, turned her head. Listening to the sounds of the night, the chirp of crickets in the deep stillness of a summer night, she concluded that she must have had a dream or something.

A slight movement at the end of her bed sent her adrenaline shooting sky-high. Before she could rise, as  she made the smallest of  sounds, something slapped across her open mouth.

It was warm, dank, almost sticky. A face hovered over her briefly. She caught a glimpse of over large eyes,  a long oval face, fleshy lips before it withdrew from her vision. She tried to struggle, but more slaps against  her flesh had her pinned.

She felt something flutter against her throat, the gentle almost-touch sending a welter of goosebumps to rise up as a shudder passed through her.

Not Human.

She wondered if perchance she was dreaming. That must be it. Never eat burritos’ for dinner after missing lunch, she said to herself. She jolted as the sheet was pulled away, and she felt a probing along her tits. She looked down, and saw …what looked like hands but surely could not be. Hands were holding her down, covering her mouth and now her tits? another probing between her thighs had her renewing her struggles.

She felt a sharp pinch and immediately she calmed. She felt floaty, almost removed. The ‘hand’ moved from her mouth, and joined the others exploring her body. Her tits were squeezed, and when her nipples erupted from the treatment, they were wrapped tightly in little coiling appendages. She felt like her nipples were tied in tight rubber bands. The one time her boyfriend had tried that with her, the end result had been so eruptive. She’d had a mega-orgasm as he removed them with his teeth.

The probing between her legs was becoming more frenzied. Her clit was pinched, and it was only a moment later that she felt the first thin appendage slide up inside of her cunt.

She moaned. She felt the writhing inside of her, then as it left. She watched as it raised up to the beings face, and a long thick tongue snaked out to lap at her juice.  It froze.

It looked her up and down, then bent to peer at the juncture of her legs. The ‘hands’ holding her began parting them, wider and wider until she feared she would be torn in two. The aliens head began scenting her, bobbing up and down along her slit.

Why that served to feed her excitement was beyond her…all she knew was that her pussy began to seethe and boil, and she felt the sudden release of her juice flowing from her hole. She nearly erupted when it’s tongue lapped along her now soaked slit. It was heavy and thick and slightly raspy. Not as rough as her cat’s, but neither as smooth as her boyfriends dog.

It lapped up and down her slit. The more it licked the more juice she spilled for it. It discovered her  sexhole. She felt its excitement when the alien located the source of her fluids. The tongue pushed inside of her. Deeper, deeper. It seemed to thicken, almost like a human cock. It twirled, and twisted inside of her, making her groan with a combination of pleasure and pain.  And still it pushed. It came to her cervix and pushed.

She yelped a short, hard scream. The alien looked up, startled, the tongue withdrawing and hanging a moment from its maw. It was very long now, and deeply blue. The end was not round as a cock was, but almost fingered. It reminded her of an elephant’s trunk.

She felt it return to her hole, and ram up into her. It was painful this time, and she cried out again. The hand returned to muzzle her. The probing tongue sank deeper and deeper inside of her, and she knew what was going to happen again. He was going to push past her cervix, try to enter her womb…She struggled, moaning loudly, trying to toss her head, shaking it no, no no…..and screamed as one of the fingers finally pressed through.

She felt the probing in her belly. The hot hard pain of it. And then the flowing of …something. She could almost taste it from inside out…sweet, almost sickly sweet. She became floaty again, and watched as her belly began to swell, and distend. It hurt, it hurt, but she was removed somehow from even that. She drifted away, watching the alien laying against her mons, feeling its impossibly long thick tongue absorbing her juices, while filling her innermost space with its own fluids.

Her body sang. It happened all at once, a riot of cellular explosions, her tits, her nipples her clit, her pussy her ass…her eyebrows and toenails…every fiber of her body jolted with a sudden flash of explosive pleasure. Her body arched, a frozen statue impaled, locked in a volatile  orgasm. For that moment, time stood still, her entire being focused inward.

Then it was over. The long blue tongue pulled from her body, the grasping hands removed.

She unclenched. As her muscles relaxed, her heart rate returned to normal, and she fell into a deep slumber. Her swollen belly continued to grow, even as the being across the room watched in pleased satisfaction.

A high-pitched click sounded, not audible to the sleeping creature. A ripple rolled across her belly. Another click, another ripple.

A long thin tentacle emerged from between her splayed legs. He moved back to the bed, clicked again. The ripples were steady now, playing across her belly like a player piano keyboard playing a Dixieland March. She sighed once as it slid fully from  her. The creature lifted its youngling up, speaking soundlessly to it, then turned it to look upon the still slumbering form of its mother. It was imprinting on her, learning her.

Later it would return.

The perfect hostess had been found.

Punchlist

Her heels clacked out a rapid beat as she moved swiftly up the new sidewalk. She never paused to look up at the impressive structure, just whipped open the doors, and stormed through.

She was a woman with an agenda. Asses to kick, invoices to sign, production dates to achieve. She’d worked hard to break through the glass ceiling. Some fucking jerk-off in a hard-hat was not, not going to fuck up her reputation for getting a job done, on time, on budget, and done fucking right!

She punched the elevator button heading for the top floor. The future site of the executive suite for some corporate big wig. All she needed to do was run the fucking punch list one more time, to be certain that this time her targets had been met…even better, exceeded.

The doors opened smoothly, and the elevator rose quickly to the top floor. When the door opened, she all but burst out of the elevator, a bristling bundle of energy in a pale blue Chanel suit.

He met her outside of the foyer. The entrance to the main suite had been finished in mahogany, polished to a high shine. She noted these details in passing. Her attention was wholly focused on the male animal smiling cockily at her.

In his battered jeans, plaid shirt, scuffed work boots, it was his attitude that commanded attention. She tried to ignore the hum that started deep inside of her. He was just a man.

“Mornin, Ms. Blake,” he drawled. His voice was mildly amused. Her reply was crisp and to the point.

“Punchlist, Mr. Monrose?”

“Thought we’d try something a bit different today, rather than just that, ma’am.” His voice was definitely amused.

Annoyance flashed across her face, clenched her stomach.

“I don’t have time for ‘different‘!” she replied  brusquely, shouldering past him to enter the elaborate foyer.  As she passed by him, she felt him tug at the collar of her jacket.

“Bit hot in here for all this.” Despite her sound of denial, he quickly divested her of the jacket. Hooking it over the doorknob behind them, he gave her the once-over.

“Much better. You look like a woman now.”

“I am a woman. A busy one….”

Her words were cut off when he pulled her  hard to him, and landed his mouth on hers. Although she struggled, palms against his chest, she was no match for his working-man strength. His kiss went on and on, his tongue invading her mouth.

She felt the needle of lust spear through her clit, electrifying her.

She pulled away …’no no no’ she gasped, but he continued his assault on her mouth. His hands began to pull at her silky blouse, pulling buttons from their openings with the ease of  a man well-practiced in sexual arts.

Her head was spinning, her shirt was gaping open, and his hands were pulling at her bra, seeking the clasp to free her. She’d stopped protesting, stopped seeing, stopped everything but feeling.

She was melting. A pool of wetness was dampening the panel of lace between her thighs, and her breath was rasping in out of her lungs as if she’d run a marathon.

Her skirt fell in a soft pool of blue to her feet. Her shirt and bra followed. She stood, locked in his torrid embrace , wearing her panties, hose, and heels.  She never realized that he’d been slowly backing her across the room until she felt the chill of smooth glass against her ass.

She tried to break away then, but his fingers were tugging on her panties, pulling the lace up between her puffy lower lips, tugging until they were taut against her swollen clit. Rather than protesting, all she could manage was a strangled moan as her throbbing clit was teased by the lace bits rubbing her needy sex.

He turned her, her tits pushed up against the glass now, there on view for any below or across to witness. His hand caressed the round cool globes of her ass, before spreading her cheeks, and following along the back string of her panties, down her sweet cleft, to the tiny puckered opening  there.

“Bend over and grab your ankles, Ms. Blake.”

She never knew why she complied. His cock entered her ass at the same rate he did everything else, at his own, slow steady pace. Most times she hated that about him. Just hated it. Today?

Not so much.

Being filled in this dark, dirty way made her feel.

Feeling was something she did not have time for. Something she didn’t have scheduled. It was not in her Crackberry, nor her log book.  Not on any invoices, or punch-lists. He’d thrown everything that was her life by the book up there against the window. And made her alive.

“Who’s dirty little whore are you?”   His voice growled over her as he filled her ass with his hardness.

“Yours.”

“My what?   Say it, whore! Tell me what you are!”

“I…..I’m …i’m your di..irty…..”

“Stop your stuttering and fucking admit it!

SAY WHAT YOU ARE!”

“i’m your dirty little whore!”    Though the words came out in a rush, it created a ripple that ran from her spine through her splayed asshole, straight around to her traitorous, throbbing clitoris.

Even as he grunted his satisfaction at her reply, he was withdrawing and slamming back into her. She was grunting herself, a combination of the ungainly position, and his forceful taking of her ass.

He pulled her up by her hair, until her hands pressed against the glass, as she bent at the waist. Across the street in the adjoining tower, an executive stood, coffee cup poised halfway to his open mouth. 

She shuddered once, looked away.

He blew his load up into her bowels, groaning his pleasure, even as he reached around and pinched her clit hard. She came, rivulets of sex juice sluicing down her hosiery.

He positioned her against the glass, back to it, legs spread wide, cheeks pressed just so, allowing  his semen to trickle out of her stretched hole, and drip onto the glass.

“Just leavin’ my mark.” He told her with a smile. “Think that was the last thing on that punchlist of your’s Ms. Blake. I’ll see you in your office tomorrow to…”    his voice trailed off a moment, amusement dancing in his eyes, across  his incredible mouth.  He looked at her, ass pressed against the window, fluids leaking a white line across it below her spread legs.

“…To finish this.”   His eyebrow quirked once at “this”.

Somehow she knew that punchlist would never quite be finished. That she would become his  “one last item”….to “do”.

STory later today PRomise!

I had to work an extra shift this weekend…will write the MOnday Story Monday morning…and keep all my pervie readers Happy…hey! Better late than never…and i have some great ideas for later!

Happy First Day of Summer, Northern Hemisphere Peeps! bkini’s, suntan oil, beaches, pools, lawn mowing, ICE CREAM, ahhh summer!

Happy First Day of Winter, Southern Hemisphere Peeps! blankets, cuddling, fireplaces, kewl coats, boots…aaahhhh, winter!

nilla

The Price of Cock

Sit.

He points to the floor under his desk. This is new.  Sometimes i really really like new. Other times…not so much.

Like the new lexan cane? Gosh it was pretty. Yeah. Until he used it. Then? Not so much.

His eyebrow is raised, a sign  he is growing impatient with me as i look at the small space under his desk. I don’t know how his legs will fit once i’m in there.

Today, slut.

i head under. Or is it in? Hard to say. It’s like a little crate under here. He’s talked of crating me in the past. He’s creative, i’ll give him that. Sometimes a mean, creative fucker. Of course i mean that in the nicest possible way Master if you are reading this.

Like the time i forgot to pack my tit clamp set? We were on vacation and he was pretty pissed at me. I swore it was an accident but he got that look. You know the look. Yeah. I knew you did. So he took my hair clips. The kind with the metal springs that look kinda like a metal “D”? The kind that close with a little click, and you have to squeeze the little release at the very end of the barrette to release it?

Yeah. You heard me. Fucker. Oh, no Master, i mean that as a compliment of the highest order.

I bet he’s reading this, plotting even now. He’s good/bad/good about shit like that.

Yet somehow i can never learn to shut my fucking mouth. Keyboard. Well, you know what i mean!

I crawl under the desk. My face is kinda pressed into the privacy panel in the front. I feel a swat on my ass, and his voice is amused, quivering with laughter.

Slut. You’re in backwards. Come back out and turn the fuck around.

Oh. Sorry Master.

This is a terrible lot of stress to put on a subbies shoulders, don’t you think?

Still, i’m finally in position. On my knees. Hands and knees, and i feel kinda like a monkey in the zoo, perching on my knuckles and trying to fit. He sits.

Suddenly i don’t feel like a monkey at all.

Coz the biggest lollipop in the world is Right. Fucking. There.

He smiles at the dazed look in my blue eyes. He knows i cannot resist his beautiful, gorgeous, delicious cock. He pulls it out of his boxers, leaves it there for me to oogle. Spit fills my mouth as i anticipate the first taste. The scent of him is arousing, intoxicating. I hunger. I’m  nearly drooling.

Part of me is drooling. I feel it leaking down my thigh. What a fucking slut.

He reaches down to me, grabs a hank of hair and pulls me forward.

Want it? Want it slut?

My submission falls over me like a cloak, a magical coat that bares all to Him. 

yes Master. May i have your cock please?

Hmmmm… it’s a laugh, a pleasure sound.

You know what I want slut. If you want this fine cock, do. it.

God.

i open my mouth. Nothing comes out. i must look like a fish out of water. i can’t believe he still wants this.

my mouth opens again, i clear my throat. i look at his cock, the delicious length of it just waiting for me to do this one thing. This one fucking humiliating thing.

Fucker. Fucker.

“o-oh say can you seee…..”

The Journey

her flesh lay before him, creamy and exposed.

unmarked by hand, or desires, she was his for the making. His for the marking.

His ultimate canvas.

He reached into his bag, drawing out his long whip,  and began to paint across her milky skin.

Every mark carried the same message….”mine”

Each moan from her mouth carried the same reply….”yours”.

****************              

Lashing done, he surveyed his masterpiece…lovely long lines tracing delicate as lacework across her, accompanied by the silver tracings of tears from the one eye he could see , her face half buried in the comforter.

Sliding his hand from ankle to ass, from cheek to cheek, and down her sweet cleft, he found the other silver tracings, hidden from view by her plump lower lips.  Parting those fleshy petals, he found her clit, proud and tall, and covered with the tracings of her dew as she wept from both ends onto the bed.

His finger slid easily into her hole, first one, then two, then three, sawing deeply inside of  her, to the sounds of her increased moans.

“What do you need, my beauty?” he crooned at her, withdrawing his fingers, and tracing the lines on her back with the wetness.

“Fuck me please fuck me please fuck me please Master…”

He chuckled, loving her response. Loving her need. He craved her craving him, it was as simple as that. And he heard that craving in her voice, the quivering, whimpering need of it.

“Too soon, my sweet, I’ve not yet begun to sexplore you,” He punned at her.

His lips and teeth began the journey then, from ankle to neck, with slow stops along the way. For life is a journey, and not the destination.

This is NOT a Rant. Really.

He has a new slut.

She is a fucking greedy bitch.

She keeps him from me. From when i want to talk to Him. From when i need to see Him. For when i yearn for Him.

I call, but He can’t talk right now. He is busy. And i know, i know, she is there.

I send emails, but they go unanswered. Titpix, ones He loved to get before. No comment. I write Him love notes. There is no reply.

What is a subbie to do when the one she is “under” is consumed by another? How can He balance us both? Why do i get the short end of the stick?  I know, i should be lucky to get any of the stick, these days.

He knows i am  here. Not going anywhere. He has claimed first rights with me. My pussy and ass and tits are HIS by His command. His, the first cock to have me in decades. His the first to take my anal cherry. His, the first to slap my ass, to steal my freedom, to drive me to bliss in serving Him.

He struggles, i think, with the balance too. Her and me. Hard to say which is more demanding of His energies. He may be a Dom…but he is also a Man. An older Man.

And He’s learning her. That takes time, energy, stamina.

And leaves little of that for me.

I try not to be greedy, but it’s in my nature, i guess. Needy, horny, sex-craving subbie. It’s how they like us, those Doms.

I try to be good. To listen to Him talk of  her, however briefly. But when He’s there, on the phone, i just want it to be us. Our sex. Our need. Our time.

But it’s not.

Coz even when she’s not there,

she is.

So…i cry a little.

and lose sleep, a little.

and fret, a little.

and try to be brave, a lot.

But ….

……but…..

…………..but…..

i  really hate his new job.

Oops pt 2

He really enjoyed her sexy whimpers. The moans, the head tossing…all were outward signs of her submission.

He craved her like this. If he hadn’t been upset with her for masturbating against his express wishes, this could have been fully enjoyable for them both. But a bit of breast punishment always did the trick with this little slut, so he pulled away from her, and retrieved his short black leather crop.

“You know I don’t really enjoy punishing you, slut. But you did, in fact, earn this. I think…10 lashes for each tit?”

 His voice was calm, conversational. He watched her eyes open wide, the whites the only real visible part against the darkness of their bedroom. Her head thrashed side to side.

“No? MORE you think? ” He paused a moment, taking in her frozen form. She had been yelling behind the ball gag shoved deeply into her mouth, but even that silenced at his question.

“Okay, 12 then.”

He took the crop, swished it in the air a few times, before landing the first of her punishment stripes across her tits, pulling  the chain holding her nipples, lifting her tits, and allowing him access to the sensitive undersides of her breasts.

She was crying when he was done, audible behind the gag, as his hands soothed her aching tits.

“Bad slut. Poor bad slut. Now, remember this  in the  future, little fucktoy. You must obey me. You must obey me. If I say no masturbation, that is exactly what I mean.”

He reached down between her legs, fishing in the toy box for a minute. He found her favorite vibe, and turning it on, he began running it up and down her slit.

“See, slut, when I say a punishment is done it’s done. Now, time to welcome Me home, properly.”

He played with her, rubbing the vibe all around her cunt, feeling when she began to ooze her slut juice for him. He felt her hips bucking up, pressing against his hand as he toyed with her.

Leaning up and across her, he began sucking and biting her left tit, laving his tongue around her clamped nipple, then biting around the clamp, pressing it harder, tighter into her flesh. She screeched around the gag, then subsided to a whimper as he released her. He sucked bruises around her nipples, hard sucking tempered  with tiny, hard bites. She would be lovely by morning, marked by his ravaging mouth and the stripes from the crop.

Her whimpers turned to moans as he pressed the vibe into her clit then away so it was barely touching her turgid flesh. He pulled it away with a soft,

“no, no, no, you anxious slut..” as she tried to buck against it.

She was straining for an orgasm, but he held her off, cooled her down.

Once subsided, he built her up and up again. Three times he tormented her with the rise to the brink, teetering on the edge, before pulling away.

His own body was beginning to feel the toll. His cock was hard and pulsing,  after more than three weeks apart.  He felt the sluice of liquid streaming from her hole, and finally could hold back no more. He shut off the vibe, tossing into the toy box, then tossed the entire box onto the floor with a clatter.

He moved up between her thighs, positioning himself. His cockhead swelled towards the hole he sought, a heat-seeking missile about to explode. He drew a short, sharp breath, controlling himself. The tip of his cock touched her wetness.

They moaned together.

He slowly, ever so slowly pushed into her. Home had never felt so good, so fucking good,  so warm. He felt the ripples along her channel, welcoming him. The pull and tug of her flesh against his hard thrusting penis nearly overwhelmed him.

Fully engulfed in her, he paused. Body pressed to body, his face burrowed between her shoulder and neck, his hands fisted around her ass cheeks, he waited, breathed a slow breath in, a slow breath out. He felt their pulses where they joined, his cock, her cunt.  With a last deep breath, he pulled out, slowly. Slowly. Feeling every inch of her heat. Coating every inch of himself with her slut juice.

Then, he fucked.

He sank into her, withdrew, only to sink again. He fucked her with all the pent-up need he’d stored for her in his balls. Hard thrusts, deep thrusts, short pulses, pauses.

He knew he wouldn’t last when she orgasmed. He felt the ripples beginning, felt her head thrashing…and when she clamped down on him, screaming, he was lost. His balls churned, then erupted, sending jet after jet deep of his  hot, rich semen  inside of her.

Spent, he collapsed onto her. She was flaccid beneath him, but for her pounding heartbeat below his.

Neither heard the door open.

“Are you okay, Desiree? I heard a crash…”

Both heads popped up when the light clicked on.

Standing in the doorway, naked, was his slut.  

While he lay upon the well fucked body of her sister.

Oops.

Oops part 1

He got hung up in Memphis.

She understood, he didn’t travel much, but she missed him like crazy, she said.

“Four more days, slut, then I’ll be home. And for those days…no touching. Understood?”

He’d absorbed her frustrated snort, her small moan, and the petulant tone in her voice.  But she would obey. She was such a good little slut, after all.

**********

He came into the house at 2 a.m., a day and half earlier than expected. He noted the couch was in a new place, and chuckled over it. She often re-arranged the furniture when he was away for a long time, just to spice things up. He’d learned after that first trip to expect some changes, and not try to sit on autopilot.

She had run downstairs, naked in the middle of the night, clutching a baseball bat, to find him sprawled on his ass in the living room. NOT in his favorite chair. To give her credit, she didn’t immediately dissolve into hysterical laughter. That came later when she recounted the story to his brother.  But he’d learned from that experience to aways expect the unexpected upon his return.

He slid off his shoes, leaving them by the door, and crossed to the stairs silently. He quickly shucked his clothing, not wanting to alert her to his presence in the bedroom by the sound of rusting clothing. He stacked them neatly on the newel post, and then headed up. His cock lead the way, like a dousing rod, heading for a nice warm wet landing strip. Gawd it was good to be home!

His first impression on opening the door to their room was that she’d moved things in here as well. Immediately after that he noticed a curious smell in here.

 It was the scent of sex.

He straightened, sniffing the air. The fucking slut had disobeyed his direct order to not masturbate!

And had likely figured he would not find out because he wasn’t due back yet.

In the dim wash of light from the half-moon outside the window, he crossed  to his nightstand. Slowly he opened it, and took out the ball gag  and cuffs. He leaned over  her sleeping form. He couldn’t see her, really, she was just a vague shape against the dark sheets they favored. He smelled the soft scent of her hair, spread across the pillow, heard the soft sounds of sleep slipping from her lightly parted lips.

He was patient. He waited until she stirred just a bit, as she shifted a bit, and opened her mouth. Quickly he slid the gag into her mouth, and fastened it.

She came awake with a jerk, eyes wide,  squealing around the gag.

“Shut the fuck up”  he hissed at her, grabbing her wrists and quickly cuffing them to the iron bars of their headboard.

She was bucking and kicking now, but he made short work of grabbing one leg and securing it, and finally, after a brief struggle, tied her other leg, too.

He looked down at the shape of her, a faint, pale “X”, writhing on the bed.

“You’ve been such a naughty slut!”   

He spoke softly, almost menacingly to her.

“First, I can smell your cum. I specifically told you no sexual release until I returned home. And second, you’re wearing clothing. You know my rule about that as well. Sexy nighties are for my pleasure. Otherwise, it’s just skin, slut.”  He shook his head from side to side, mocking her.

“Such a bad, bad slut. What am I going to do with you?’

He chuckled aloud at her attempts to be heard around the large ball in her mouth.  Carelessly, he pulled apart her nightie, leaving the torn bits of material under her. She shrieked, tossing her head and muttering at him. He fondled her tit, pulled at her nipple, gave her a slap on her pussy, then rose from the bed.

He crossed the room to the armoires, took out their toy box, while “hmmming” just loud enough to carry to the suddenly still form on the bed.

A soft jingle came from the box as he placed it between her spread legs.

He lifted up something and shook it at her.

“Well, I think these are the first order of business. He affixed each clamp to one teased, taut nipple, ignoring her cries behind the gag. He pulled on the chain to test it, and the right clamp slipped off.

“Oh, how clumsy of me,” he replied, grinning. His teeth flashed white in the darkness.

He pinched her nipple hard, rolling the nubbin between his fingers, squishing her flesh until it puckered tightly, then refastened the clamp. Another tug had her arching up on the bed.

“Ah, that’s better, then,” and he smiled once more.

It was a bright smile, and full of dark promises.

Dining Out

We walk into a restaurant, very fancy, and i admit, i am intimidated. Everyone so chic, and here you are, all neatly set up, and you are holding the upper arm of this hippie woman. OH, she is presentable, attractive, but very much not chic! Yes, it’s me. There you have it, i am unchic, and happy in my hippie ways. Until this moment, anyway. I wish i’d …done something different. But you like me as i am, so, i try to put on a blase face, though i wonder if you feel the trembling of my arm as you guide me to our booth.
 
You seem to be totally unphased by my nerves, my blush as i take the seat in the booth beside you. You push aside my long floral skirt and slide close to me, until we are sitting hip to hip. You talk to the waiter a moment, but i’m not taking anything in beyond my feelings of being overwhelmed, a combination of Your close proximity to my body, and the plush surroundings. 
 
Your  arm comes around me, stroking the back of my head. Soothing your little beast, i think, with an inward grin.  You lean into me, your nose just above my ear,  forehead against my hair. A small tremor slides down my spine when you breathe into my ear, and you chuckle just a little as you feel my shivery  response. You murmur just low enough for me to hear, “there’s my good lil slut”, and chuckle as i shiver again.
 
Your voice is like honey, thick, and sweet. My toes curl  inside my shoes. The tickle of your breath on my ear, the soft thick accent, and you calling me slut in public in that way…all combine to shoot an arrow of need directly to my pussy.
 
The waiter comes, and you approve drinks, order for us. He moves away.
 
“Lift up your skirt, slut so I can inspect your cunt.”
 
Your order is terse, low-voiced. I stare at the table, but slowly lift up my skirt, bunching it up in my lap. Your hand slips between my legs, and you pinch my thigh to force me to open my legs further. How embarrassed i am to have your hand in my pussy!  And yet how hot it’s making me.
 
“Slut.”
 
I shoot you a sideways look. “Yes Master?”
 
“That’s a wet cunt.”  You slide your fingers from me, and glide one wet finger across my lower lip. Then you gently insert the finger into my mouth. To avoid more embarrassment, i quickly clean the finger, tasting my need on your fingers. How apropos to where we are…wanting, needing, tasting, here in this elegant eatery.
 
The appetizer arrives, and you slip a sliver of cheese onto a cracker, and place that between my lips. As i am obediently eating you lean towards me and say,
 
“Wordslut, spin me a short story about you going across to the table where the older man in the gray suit is, and how you would ask him to let you suck his dick with his wife sitting there.”
 
I chew quickly, swallow hard. I worry that my story spinning would be something that you might have me try to act out so i stare into your eyes for a moment. Yet, you have told me to always, always Trust you, and that you would always keep me safe. I close my eyes for a moment, then spin you a story of sliding out of our booth, and slipping up next to the man. How i would begin, telling him that i am an owned slut and that you have sent me here to pleasure him if he so chooses to accept your gift.
 
His eyes, incredulous, slide from my tits back to our booth, then back to my mouth. I don’t know this, but you know this man, and he you. He is wise to your games. Gruffly he tells me to slide under the table, and unzip him, then suck him dry. When i am done I must also lick his wifes pussy until she cums. They are both smiling wicked smiles at me as i glance from Him to Her. I look back at You and you glare at me. I slide under the tablecloth and do my duty to you.
 
You applaud my story by sliding you fingers back into my slit. One probing finger finds its way into my fuckhole, and you gently tease me by fucking me just a little bit. I hold my moan behind my lips, but only barely. You slide out and wipe your fingers on my bare thigh.
 
“You are quite a slut tonight,” you say. I hear pride there in your voice, knowing that you pull this out of me, even here where i feel uncomfortable and exposed.
 
Our meal arrives. You let me eat a salad, as you work on a steak.
 
“Want some meat?” You ask, the double entendre not lost on me. I grin at you, and say “Yes Sir, a piece of meat would be lovely…..”   and you stab a piece of steak and feed me. We are laughing at each other just now, eyes dancing, lips curved as we chew, watching each other. The waiter stops by, as they always do when our mouths are full, and asks about the meal.
 
“She loves the meat,” you say, gesturing to me with your fork. I blush, and look at my plate, the waiter smiles, moving away when you tell him we are fine for now.
 
“Spin me a story about fucking him.”
 
I swallow fast. This one comes easier, faster. My cunt is throbbing, my need is growing,  and my story arrow  is nocked and ready.
 
“I catch up to him as he walks toward the kitchen.    “My master, ”   i say, “wants to thank you for your wonderful service tonight.” He looks at me, knowing in that way that men do, i suppose.     “He will let you fuck me, if he can watch.”      He tells me he gets off at 11, and he wants to get off on me by 1110. His car is an old Dodge he’s restoring, parked out back. Meet him there and he’ll fuck me good.”  As he turns for the kitchen, he says, fucking good tip, there.” and laughs.
I hurry to the table and tell you. At exactly 11, we’re in the parking lot. He comes out of the back from the kitchen entrance. He is already scanning the parking lot for us. He sees me, then takes my shirt and pulls it up, and pulls my tits from my bra. He pulls on my nipples, making me moan, while looking at you.  He smiles at what he sees in your eyes. Grabbing me by the hair he shoves me face down over the hood of his car. The gray paint is rough against my tits, the metal cool. I feel air on my ass as my skirt is lifted up, and then his hand feeling me. He pinches my ass, and i hear your voice saying, “she’ll start dripping if you use this on her”. I hear your belt slipping from your pants. He slashes my ass again and again, and when he would have stopped, you egg him on for more. I’m moaning, crying, dancing across the hood of the car when he throws your belt at you, and i feel his cock ramrod into my cunt. He fucks me hard, slapping his pelvis into my burning ass, my hips into his side panel..He is grunting with his efforts, and cums quickly. I think it is over, but you move in, and i feel your fingers diving into my pussy, spreading my juice, his juice around my asshole. With no more warning than that, you drive into my ass, and my gasp of pain and needy fucking desire inspires you to fuck me like a bronco. In out, in out, you drive your cock deep into my bowels, until you too, blow your load up inside me. Released, i slowly slide to the ground, panting. In front of me, two sticky cocks. Rising unsteadily to my knees, i begin to lap at them, first one, then the other, cleaning them as i have been taught.
 
You interrupt my story here.. “Slut…”
 
“Master!”  i protest, “i’m NOT finished yet!!”
 
 You subside, but i see the warning in your eyes. You think i’ve forgotten a rule, but i have not, not even in my storytelling.
 
“where was i….oh, yes…”
 
“I reach between my legs to scoop up the cum leaking from me, but my hand is taken and i feel a tongue lapping at the wetness there. As i finish cleaning your cock, i look up. It is the man and wife from the restaurant! I am hoisted onto the hood of the car, and the man instructs her to clean me, and keep cleaning me until i cum all over her face…then he will finish me.”
 
 I throw a look of triumph at you, but don’t speak it aloud. I am allowed to gloat just a wee bit…
 
“Okay, slut…you got me.”
 
I smile up at you. But you’ve got me too, i think, feeling how sopping wet it is between my thighs…and i know when your fingers go back there, i’ll be begging you to let me cum. Right here, in the restaurant.
 
A lovely honey cream dessert for my Master.