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Table

By: Enygma55



Dedicated to the one that continues to haunt me.

*

I get out of my car and walk up to you, smirking the whole way for I have this day planned and I am going to enjoy it. Holding out my arms, you step in and give me a hug as I place a soft kiss on your cheek and give you a squeeze. You tighten your arms around me, hugging me back not sure what I have planned but this is a nice start. Letting you go, I take out a blindfold and step back. I stare into your eyes as I slip it over your head, covering those beautiful brown eyes of yours. My arms go around you again and I kiss your neck, my breath tickling it as I hold you.

"You ready for today, Lindsey?" I whisper in your ear.

"Yes, sir," you say with no hesitation.

"That's my good girl," I respond," Hold out your hands."

You hold out your hands so trustingly and you feel and hear the metal clicks of handcuffs binding your wrists together. I know you are surprised it very rare that I pull out the restraints in the open like this and their is another surprise in store. I pull your hair back as and something jingles in your ear as you feel the touch of leather slide around your neck; quivering a little and you feel yourself getting wet knowing that people could be watching this right now. I tighten it around your neck, almost choking you as I put it on and that gives you even more excitement. Our lips touch as I run my fingers through your hair, I kiss your cheek then your neck. 

"You look so good baby doll, all collared and restrained. I can't wait to get you alone." I tell you.

"Of course, sir, anything you want," you respond.

"You are being so good today, I am going to have to reward you."

I tug on the collar as you feel the leash get attached to it and I give it a little pull, using it to guide you to the car. You are nervous as you walk, knowing that it is only my guidance keeping you from falling. I lead you slowly and you feel the leash go slack and you stop. I open the car door and I take your hand, helping you into the car. It takes you a little effort to find the seat and I keep helping to make sure you are all in the car. The car door shuts and you are left alone for a moment or two and you hear your heart beating and feel yourself breath in and out. The noise from the street is just background to you as you wait for me to get into the car. The sound of the other car door opening startles you a bit as I climb into the car. I pick up the leash again and wrap it around my hand before starting the car. I pull away from curb and we take the long drive up into the mountains. For the most part the drive is quiet as we wind our way through the pass though I do tease you with my fingers running along your skin. I play with your hair and rub my thumb across your lips which you take a playful nibble at it. You hear me chuckle as I move my thumb away. 

"Naughty naughty," I say, playfully as I grab your hair and pull on it lightly.

You make a light, low moan in your throat because of the pain but it feels so good. The long drive has given you plenty of time to imagine what I have planned. Is he going to tie me to a tree and take me or will it be bent over the hood of his car and he fucks me on the side of the road. He could also take me in the back of the car, hanging from the "oh shit" handles. You squirm a little in the seat as these thoughts roll around in your head; you hear him chuckle, a wicked deep sound. My hand touches your leg, brushing the skirt up; getting access to your soft skin. The leather of the leash slides along your skin still wrapped in my hand causing you to shiver. He told you not to wear panties and you wanted to obey but the skirt was so short, you couldn't obey for the fear got the best of you. So, when his hand reached your panties you hear his sigh and his fingers dig into your inner thigh. After a moment, I stop squeezing your thigh and my finger gently touch your panties. 

"What did I tell you today?" I ask.

"Um...," You hesitate to respond.

"What did I tell you?" I ask more firmly.

"Not to wear panties, sir."

"And what are these?" I ask, pulling on them with a finger.

"My little black and white boy shorts."

"And those are?"

"Panties, sir, but I ... was scared to go out without them," You stammer out.

"I'm very disappointed in you, I gave you a simple command and you failed me. You do understand I am going to have to punish you for this," I tell you, in a firm tone.

"Yes sir," You say softly.

My hand tangles in your hair and I pull sharply on it, forcing your head back.

"What as that little one? I didn't hear you."

"Yes Sir," you say distinctly.

I let go of your hair, hearing you gasp as the pain recedes. You sit quietly as the drive continues and the isolation of blindfold works its way into your mind. You go back to the thoughts of where you are going and what he is going to do to you, with the added punishment for disobeying him. Your mind adds the leather of his belt slapping again and again into your ass. You squirm in the seat at the thoughts flowing through your head. You like the way he controls you and the way he punishes you for misbehaving. 

I watch you, glancing at you as we drive. I can tell you are lost in thought because you are being quiet and your fingers are playing with the hem of your skirt. You are adorable, the way your dark hair frames your face; it always makes my fingers itch to brush it away from your neck and kiss it. I drive a little faster; I am just as excited to get start my plan. We drive in silence for another fifteen minutes up into the mountains. I pull up in front of the house and I turn off the car. I climb out of the car and make my around. Holding open the door for you, I help you out; taking the leash into my hand again.

"Come along, baby doll, we are here," I command you.

I tug on the leash, leading you down the path to the front door. This is the place for my plans, I open up the door. Escorting you into the house, I guide you to the table. It is a solid oak table, six feet in length and four feet wide, built a long time ago. It is sturdy and has had many meals eaten on it but this is a different kind of serving that will be done tonight. I push you against the table, trapping you against it as I kiss you. My desire is apparent to you as I press our bodies together. 

You feel my hands push you onto the cool wood of the table. Your skirt rides up as you slide across the top of the table. It takes you a minute to realize what he is doing as he pushes you down on the table top. His hands keep a hold of the cuffs on your wrists and you feel them get taken off. His lips on yours as he kisses you hard and passionately. He pushes your body down onto the table, holding your arms above your head. His teeth sink into your neck as he keeps you trapped to the table. You feel the strap go over one wrist, it gets cinched down tight against your skin. The other strap goes around just as tight as he finishes strapping your arms to the table.

Once I am done with your arms, I slide my hands down your body roughly feeling every inch of you. I get to your skirt and lift it up. I shake my head sadly at the sight of your boy shorts, as much as I love them I am still angry at you for wearing them. I pull them off of you, none to gently and hold them in my hand. Once that is done, I reach and hold down your ankle, I pull the loop over your foot and push it tight. My fingers stroke your other ankle then sliding them up and down your calf I tease you. We both know I am going to finish tying you to this table but I love the feel of your skin and feeling the anticipation going through your body. Sliding my hand up you leg, I go along your thigh getting my hand closer and closer to your pussy. The tips of my fingers brush it for a moment then move back down your leg and that causes me to smile at your squirming. I dig my fingers into your flesh on the way back down to your ankle. Holding onto it tight I slip the strap over it and pull it tight. 

You feel me leave you but only for a moment. Hands grab your face and you mouth is forced open and your own panties are forced into your mouth. You try to talk but it is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. You can taste yourself on them from the teasing, the hair pulling, the blindfold, all of that got you wet on the ride up and now you taste that in your mouth. The straps get tightened, pulling your arms over the edge of table. His footsteps sound on the hardwood floor as he walks to the end of the table. The bindings pull hard on your legs as they get spread wide, opening your pussy up. Your skirt rides all the way up and you swear you can feel his gaze on your pussy as he tightens those straps. 

I notice that she was wet before but now she is dripping. I see the first strand hit the table top and makes me long to lick it up but that is not part of the plan. I reach into the bag of goodies for tonight, I pull out a paddle for later and the remote vibrator for right now. I tease your pussy with the end, getting it coated in your pussy juices as I rub it against your clit. I slide it inside you, pushing it deep inside your pussy and I leave it there. I kiss your neck softly as I turn it on for the moment. I hear you gasp as it vibrates inside you and I smile as I turn it up another notch. I pull up a chair and watch as I play with the power.

Moaning and gasping into the gag, you just want to yell but you can't. He is killing you as he messes with power of the vibrator. You feel the tension building inside you as he turns it back down; the combination of being tied up, the hard wood, the blindfold, tasting yourself on your panties and his control over the toy in your pussy. You fight against the rising tide of your orgasm because you know he will punish you more. The wetness drips out of your pussy down along your ass and onto the table. His breath is on your ear as he licks your ear.

"No cumming little one," I command.

That almost makes you cum but you manage to throttle it down and keep your orgasm in check. It hurts but you manage it and you squirm on the table top. You feel the cool metal of nipple clamps pinch your nipples as he puts them on then you feel the chain of the third clamp go down across your stomach. He clips it to your clit, making you yelp into the gag and writhe against your restraints. Pure torture, his teasing and tempting you to disobey him and cum but keep it under control for him, you do really want to be good for him.

I smile down at you, watching you squirm on the table. This is going better than I had planned, you look so beautiful sprawled and stretched onto the table. I lean down and kiss your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin on my lips. I push the tip of my tongue out and I lick your skin; I growl because you taste so good to me. I sit back down watching you writhe on the table. I push the vibrator remote up a notch to hear you squeal. I let this go on for about 10 minutes before turning it off and standing back up, I move to the table. I take off the blindfold and pull the panties from your mouth. You whimper a little as you look into my eyes and I see the pleas to cum that you haven't been able to voice reflected in them. I kiss you softly.

"Now baby doll, I am going to have to punish you for being such a naughty girl and wearing panties. So stay put and I will release the straps," I tell you.

I take the straps off your arms, then your ankles. I watch you as you straighten your clothes, pulling your skirt and shirt back down. It is so cute when you are shy about your body, even though you know I get so hard for you. I wish you understood how much I treasure all of you, that smile, those eyes, your heart and your mind but you have a hard time seeing yourself clearly, so I will keep working on it. I pull you upright as kiss you softly. My hands reach down and slide your shirt up and off. You look away from me ass I grab your skirt, I strip it off of you. Gently, I grab you and roll you over onto your stomach. I, again, strap you down to the table pulling all the straps tight so you can't get away. Patting your ass, I pick up the paddle and I show it to you.

"Time for your spankings, ten is the count for disobeying me," I inform you.

"Yes, sir," You respond.

The paddle cracks down on your ass, sending ripples through your flesh.

"One."

The paddle rubs across your little ass and then it leaves and slams down on your ass again.

"Two."

It hits your ass again, causing you to gasp.

"Three."

Thwack.

"Four," you yelp out, quivering a little. You feel your pussy dripping as he rubs the paddle along your pussy.

He waits and holds it, making you shiver in anticipation of the next crack of it on your ass. You wait for what seems like an eternity but when it comes it is just a gentle pat but still makes you jump a little.

"Five."

The paddle slaps into your ass.

"Six."

Smack.

"Seven," you say as you moan a little.

It cracks against your ass causing you to shudder.

"Eight."

He slams it into your ass, sending shiver all through your body.

"Nine."

He rubs the paddle along your traumatized flesh, making you groan and squirm. Then the paddle is gone and you wait for the final spank, the tenth and it doesn't come. You wait and you feel his other hand stroking your arm but the blow doesn't come. You raise your ass off the table, tempting him, showing him you are ready for it and that you want it but still it doesn't come. Breathing heavily and waiting, trying to not tense up but failing as you wiggle in anticipation of the blow. 

I watch you squirm while you wait, seeing that beautiful ass of yours moving and tensing as you think I am going to spank you. The tenderness of my other hand stroking your skin is confusing your brain and you love to be spanked. I give nothing away as I bring it down hard on your ass, it startles you as the sound echoes through the house. I watch you spasm and I see you squirt all over of the table top as you orgasm. 

"TTTTeeennnnnn," you moan out as you pull against the restraints, cumming so hard.

It is so hot to watch you cum from the spanking but I sigh and shake my head. You weren't supposed to cum without my permission. I set the paddle down next to your head and push my fingers inside your wet pussy. It makes you moan a little as I play with you and I pull them out and taste you. You taste good and I love the way you feel on my fingers. 

"You came, little one," I say to you.

"I know sir, I'm soooo sorry," you say in chagrinned tone of voice.

"I know baby doll and I hate to punish you but you need to learn," I tell you.

Kissing you softly right between your shoulder blades, I take the vibrator and push it back into your pussy. Turning it on to high and I sit down in front of you, I stare into your eyes, a very stern look on my face. 

"You aren't going to cum, baby doll, no matter what I do from now on," I command you as I brush some of your dark hair from your face. You just nod and bite your lower lip as the vibrator works your already sensitive pussy.

You stare at me, trying to keep from moaning like a slut as he raises and lowers the speed of the vibrator. He stands up and moves around you, you turn your head and watch him reach into his bag and pulls out your little anal toy. He spreads some lube on it and shows it to you. A wicked smile on his face as he slowly pushes it inside your ass. You still aren't used to it as it stretches your anus and causes you to gasp as it goes in. You can feel it in your ass and the vibrations from your pussy bounces off of it causing you to shudder. He is the only one to have taken your ass and it still feels so dirty to you and wrong but so good as well. You moan into your hair as you try to keep your orgasm in check. He smiles at you as you control yourself. 

I enjoy watching you squirm and I love to hear you moan as I turn the vibrator down. I watch you fight against the restraints, unconsciously trying to touch your pussy or take it the toys out to give you relief. You look at me with pleading eyes as stroke your hair and lightly tug on it. As I force your head back, I kiss you softly on the lips feeling you moan into my mouth as my tongue licks your lower lip. My hand tightens on your hair pulling on it harder.

"Please sir, Please stop, I don't want to cum. I want to be a good girl for you. Please sir." You moan and beg.

"Are you going to listen to me? About panties and about cumming?" I ask you.

"Yes sir, I won't disobey again, please sir."

"I don't believe you, little one."

I turn up the vibrator again and grab a hold of the anal toy. I slowly start to fuck your ass with it. You let out a growl as you work at keeping your body under your control. I love seeing the frustration in your eyes as you look over your shoulder at me. I see your gaze shift as you try to see the toy go in and out of your ass. You shudder and bow your head back down.

"Please sir, I will be good... I will always be good for you," You beg, "I will never cum without your permission again but please let me cum for you now. I want to cum for you please sir please please...."

"You will cum after I cum baby doll."

Standing in front of you, he pulls out his cock and teases you with it. He glides it along your lips letting you taste his precum. You stretch yourself trying to get more of him into your mouth. You love the way his cock tastes and feels in your mouth. He lets a little more of the head slide in between your lips. A little bit of his precum hits your tongue and you moan on his cock as you try harder and harder to get more it into your mouth. You want to make him cum, to feel him spew it into your mouth but he pulls it away from you. 

"Does my little girl want this?" I ask you, moving it towards you and then away.

"Yes sir, please give me your cock. I want it in my mouth, sir." 

I grab your hair and pull on it. Pushing my cock forward into you waiting mouth I start fucking your face. You gag a little as I push it in and out of your mouth and you look up at me as you take my cock. I feel every inch of your mouth on my cock as it slides in and out. I let go of your hair and you take over being a great little cocksucker. I watch your head bob up and down on my cock. I stroke your hair as you suck my cock.

He feels so good in your mouth and you love the way he tastes. You only wish you could make him cum. His iron control always makes you frustrated. You just want his cum to fill your mouth but he never lets it go. You keep sucking and sliding your tongue along his cock. You struggle to cup his balls but the restraints prevent you. It is all too soon for you when he pulls his cock away from your mouth. You whine a little and pout staring up at him. His hand strokes your hair and your cheek but he keeps his cock away from your mouth. 

I walk around the table my fingers trailing down your back. Your skin feels so good and I love watching you shiver they glide down along your spine. I climb up onto the table behind you, I pull out the anal toy and I feel you shudder as it comes out. Taking a little lube, I rub it onto the head of my cock as I prepare to enter your ass for the first time. I turn down the vibrator as I rub my cock along your ass and you quiver, knowing I am going to take you. Pushing my cock slowly into your ass, taking my time, letting you get used to this invasion; you are so tight around it. I slowly rock my cock in and out of you, slowly and deliberately fucking your ass.

You moan into the table as he fucks your ass. You have always wanted someone to take you in every way and now he is doing it. You feel the vibrator get turned up as he fucks you. His cock filling your ass and you feel it vibrating as well. You moan louder and squirm against the restraints. He bites the back of your neck and that almost sends you over, you love him behind you pinning you and slowly fucking you. Makes you feel like his little bitch, his little fuck toy and it makes you quiver in total lust for him, you rock your hips, driving him deeper and deeper inside you. He pulls on your hair making you head come back.


Table 17



The first time that Dean Stone saw her – saw either of them – was in the breakfast room overlooking the river. "Dine in style", the brochure said. "Gaze out over the beautiful valley and the undulating hills behind. But Dean wasn't interested in beautiful valleys or hills; undulating or otherwise. Dean was interested in Mrs. Claire St. John.

When Dean had arrived for work at the Cross Keys Hotel early that morning, his friend and co-waiter, Marc James, had been the first to speak to him. Both were still at university but Marc was having a few problems finding enough money to pay his tuition and consequently had worked the hotel reception overnight.

"They arrived last night," Marc said as they both hurried into their black and white uniforms. "You'll like her; blonde, a bit tarty and a few years older – just the way you prefer!"

"Did you say they?"

"Yeah," Marc continued, "she had her old man in tow. But since when has that bothered you?"

Dean smiled. This was a game that the two friends played on a regular basis and, so far at least, had got away with. Mr. Carmichael, the hotel manager, highly disapproved of any fraternisation between staff and guests and Dean guessed he would go into meltdown if he knew that the two friends spent their entire days dreaming up ways to get into the female guests' panties – often with great success! Although Dean was more successful in his endeavours than Marc, this was mainly due to the type of women that the two young men preferred: While Marc enjoyed the intimate company of girls of a similar age to his twenty-one years – and therefore in fairly short supply at such an expensive establishment as The Cross Keys - Dean preferred the more mature woman and was therefore in a much better position to pick and choose.

"Table seventeen!" Marc hissed to his friend as Dean walked out into the opulent restaurant with a pot of coffee in his hand.

Ignoring a few attention-seeking glances from other diners, Dean made straight for table seventeen that was tucked away in the far corner of the room. As he approached the table he got his first glimpse of Mrs. Claire St. John. Her husband was hidden behind a large broadsheet newspaper but Dean couldn't have cared less; he was only interested in the blonde woman nibbling at a small piece of toast. Marc had been entirely correct in his assumption of Dean's interest. The woman's long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and draped either side of a large, firm chest. Her face, while not beautiful, was at least a little attractive and was adorned by more make-up than was necessary giving it, in Marc's words, a slightly tarty look. Just what Dean liked.

"Er, coffee, madam?" Dean announced as he cleared his throat and tried his best not to stare too avidly at Mrs. St. John's ample chest.

The woman smiled up at him and nodded – their first eye contact – and Dean felt a shiver run up his spine. He smiled back as he poured the steaming beverage. He had made contact and there was most definitely a connection there, he thought.

"And for you, sir?"

A noncommittal grunt came from behind the newspaper. Dean knew better than to push the question and, smiling again at the current object of his lust, wandered back to the waiters' station. If St. John wanted more coffee he could ask for it!

By 10.30 breakfast had finished and Marc and Dean were clearing the breakfast room. As Dean moved to table seventeen, he saw the newspaper that had hidden Mrs. St. John's husband folded on the table. It wasn't the sort of thing that he would usually bother with but the paper gave him an idea.

"What's going through that warped brain of yours now?" Marc asked as he passed by the table with a tray of dirty dishes.

"Just thought I'd take his paper back to him." Dean answered with a sly grin. "he seems to have forgotten it."

"What? Don't be crazy, man! If the lazy jerk has forgotten his paper that's his prob.. Ah, I get it. Trying to get yourself noticed, huh? Go for it, my friend, I'll finish up here!" 

As Dean walked across the foyer towards the stairs (staff were strictly forbidden to use the guest elevator), He saw the hotel manager, Mr. Carmichael, out of the corner of his eye. Dean moved quickly but it was too late – he'd been spotted by his ever vigilant boss.

"Stone, come here."

Dean walked over and stood subserviently in front of Carmichael.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be helping to clear breakfast?"

"Nearly finished in there, Mr. Carmichael." Dean replied. "A guest left his newspaper. I was just returning it."

Depending on Carmichael's mood, Dean knew that this could now go either way and he was relieved when he saw a wide beaming smile break over the old man's face.

"Good." Carmichael breathed, adjusting Dean's tie so that it was exactly centred beneath his chin. "Very good, Stone. We must look after our guests, mustn't we. Off you go then!"

Taking his opportunity, Dean trotted off towards the stairs and began the long trudge up to the fourth floor. He didn't know how long the St. Johns' were going to be staying at the hotel but he didn't want to waste any time in getting himself noticed.

"Yes?"

Claire St. John had answered the door to Dean's knock. Clearly she had been in the middle of dressing for a morning walk in the warm sunshine and wore only a pair of cut-off shorts and a black, sleeveless top. In an instant, Dean's eyes flicked up and down her lean frame quickly taking in her long tapered legs, dainty bare feet and exposed midriff. His eyes finally flitted over the swell of her firm breasts; under the thin top he was certain that she was not wearing a bra.

"Sorry, Mrs. St. John." He said quickly. "But your husband left his newspaper downstairs."

"Well, what a diligent young man you are." Claire St. John smiled. She moved slightly to the side and turned back into the room. Dean followed her, the paper still in hand.

"Just put it on the table, will you?" 

Mrs. St. John had her back to Dean as he followed instructions and placed the folded paper on the table. She was clearly fishing around in her purse for a gratuity and Dean waited respectfully. As a folded banknote changed hands so both Mrs. St. John and Dean's eyes locked. For a moment there was silence until Claire St. John finally spoke.

"Surely you didn't come all the way up here just to give my husband back his paper?"

Her voice was almost a whisper and the question seemed to hang in the air between the couple. Dean wanted to answer but the words stuck in his throat. He hadn't expected to make this sort of contact so soon; usually he would have to work on a woman for a few days at least before she succumbed to his charms.

"I saw you looking at me at breakfast," Claire continued in the same whispered tone, "You were looking at my breasts, weren't you? - just like you are right now!"

Suddenly Dean realised that he had indeed been staring straight at the older woman's chest. He knew for a fact now that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the black top; he could clearly make out the shape of her nipples as they projected through the material.

"Oh, er...sorry Mrs....er...I didn't mean to...."

"That's quite alright....Dean," Claire St. John lifted the name tag from Dean's lapel and read his name, "Most women are really quite flattered when a younger man notices them! So, do you like my tits?"

The way that she rolled the word around on her tongue gave Dean an instant erection and all he could do was manage a weak nod.

"Would you like to touch them?"

It seemed to Dean that the woman's voice was now coming from far, far away; his attention was all consumed as he continued to stare blatantly at the firm breasts in front of his eyes. He nodded silently again but did nothing. But when he felt Claire St. John's hands close around his own and guide them to the front of her shirt, Dean suddenly seemed to wake up. His head snapped up and he glanced around the room.

"What about...er...well, what about your husband?"

"Do you see him here?" Claire countered quickly; her hands pressed Dean's fingers firmly to her breasts and encouraged him to squeeze the nipples through the fabric.

"Er...well, no. I guess..."

"Well don't worry about him, then! Just feel me up!"

Dean could tell that Claire was becoming a little excited; her nipples seemed to harden under her top and her breathing was becoming shorter and more laboured. He could feel his erection pressing hard against his pants and decided that the explanation of her husband's whereabouts – or lack of them – if good enough for her, was definitely good enough for him. He moved closer to her and gently pecked at her swan like neck with his lips. His hands had found the hem of her top and he heard her gasp slightly as his hands touched her warm flesh of her abdomen, up to her stomach and then to her breasts. His fingers closed gently around each crinkled nipple and he smiled as Claire moaned while he rolled them.

As Claire groaned and sighed, Dean moved his hands down to the front of her shorts and slowly unzipped them. His fingers quickly found the smooth skin of her shaved pussy and as he explored further downwards and inside her underwear he encountered a slick, silky moisture.

"Mmmm...nice and wet!" He murmured into her neck. "Just the way I....."

"Oh, don't mind me!" Said Mr. Henry St. John as he wandered out of the bathroom. "I would think if you stopped now you would have a very frustrated woman on your hands – quite literally!"

Dean mouth gaped as he watched Claire's husband stroll casually across the room completely naked and sit himself down in a chair by the bed. He could hardly believe that the man was being so cool about this. Couldn't he see that Dean currently had two fingers inserted into his wife's very wet pussy and was groping her tits for all he was worth? In answer to Deans unasked question Henry St. John simply waved his hand casually indicating to Dean again that he should not cease his ministrations.

"So long as you don't mind me watching." The older man smiled, "I think Claire would appreciate you continuing!"

Dean's attention was suddenly drawn back to the woman in his arms – and on his fingers – who had now begun to undulate her hips back and forth; pressing herself further down onto Dean's wet digits. Dean shrugged. This was definitely the first time that he'd had an audience, but there was a first time for everything, he reasoned. Besides, his hard cock that was pressing against his stomach was virtually ordering him to continue.

Having so quickly accepted the rather strange situation, Dean was determined to enjoy it. Dropping to his knees he grasped the waistband of both Claire's shorts and her panties and roughly tugged them down her tanned thighs. His face was now in a direct line with her glistening pussy and as soon as he touched his tongue to her visibly throbbing clit the woman erupted into an immediate and powerful orgasm. Dean felt her hands on the back of his head pulling him into her and greedily drank the copious juices that flowed from her slit.

"She's definitely going to want to suck you now." 

Dean heard Henry St. John's voice as it drifted over from the other side of the room and glanced over at him. The older man was sitting – quite comfortably, it seemed to Dean – with his legs wide open and a small, but fiercely erect cock grasped between his fingers. Again, Dean's attention was quickly drawn back as he felt Claire's hands unbuttoning his shirts and fumbling at the belt of his pants.

Claire worked quickly and in a matter of moments Dean found himself naked and with his erection protruding proudly from his body. He groaned as Claire's fingers cupped his balls and held his breath as her mouth neared him.

As Claire St. John's mouth slowly swallowed his throbbing cock head, Dean gasped loudly. His eyes closed and his head fell backwards as the ecstasy engulfed him. His mind was reeling. All his senses seemed to be concentrated around his penis; the nerve endings tingling and alive with glorious sensation. From a seemingly great distance he could hear the faint groans from Claire's husband as he continued to masturbate and, far from disturbing Dean – as he thought it might – he found the idea of his lover's husband in the same room a huge turn on.

Dean's hands lay on the top of Claire's head in a parody of his own earlier position and his fingers entwined themselves in her long blonde hair. Gently he urged her head forward; rocking his hips slowly as more of his stiff tool disappeared into her mouth. He could hear her humming softly around his weapon and felt the sensations ripple through his body. He knew that he would have to maintain his concentration if he was to avoid unloading directly into her mouth at this early stage.

"Would you like to fuck my wife?" Henry St John suddenly gasped from his seated position. "Would you like to fuck her wet pussy and feel it tighten around your cock?"

Dean was well aware that Claire's husband was the one who really wanted his wife to get fucked – probable just as much as Dean wanted to fuck her and Claire wanted to get fucked! Maybe a moment or two of teasing would be in order, he thought wickedly.

"You want to see you wife get fucked?" Dean said as he looked directly at the masturbating Henry. "You want to watch as I fill your wife's cunt with my hard, young cock? Does that thought get your cock hard?"

Henry's answer was nothing more than a series of guttural moans as Dean felt the female mouth on his tool withdraw slowly and Claire stand up beside him.

"Well, if you boys want me to get fucked then who am I to argue?" Claire said demurely as she licked her lips. Both Dean and Henry watched enraptured as she peeled off the black top and finally stood completely naked in front of them.

"Would you like me on the sofa?" She asked with a wicked smile.

Clearly this was a rhetorical question and Dean and Henry looked on as the blonde woman moved to the white leather couch.

"Time to fuck Mrs. St. John!" Claire laughed as she bent over and spread her legs. "It's time to put that big juicy cock inside my cunt!"

Dean didn't need to be asked twice and in a second he was up behind Claire and nudging his throbbing weapon at the entrance to her wet slit. He heard both Claire and her husband moan in unison as he stabbed the first two inches inside her. His hands went under her body and grasped each pendulous breast as they hung down invitingly. The nipples seemed to stiffen yet again under his touch and as he fed another two inches of his inflamed meat into her glistening pussy he tugged and twisted on the swollen buds while Claire groaned ecstatically.

Dean could see Henry's hand moving faster up and down his small penis as he drove his own weapon deep into Clair's vagina; the older man seemed to be trying to time his masturbatory strokes with Dean's deep thrusts. Claire was gasping and moaning deep in her throat as she was penetrated so expertly and, as Dean rammed home slapping his balls loudly against her skin, he felt her whole body go taught as a second orgasm crashed over her.

Dean was in his element now; masterfully in control of the situation and his own body; striving ever nearer to his own eventual climax.

"Turn over, honey," he said with a little grin, let's see your face while I fuck your pussy!"

Claire's body was still trembling as she twisted herself over onto her back and lay expectantly on the sofa.

"Spread those legs." Dean commanded, "I want to see that little pink slit!"

Claire obeyed wordlessly. Her legs parted almost ceremoniously and she propped herself back against the cool leather cushions.

"Ahhhhh!" Dean cried out loudly as he once again drove himself deep into the older woman's body. "You got a real hot pussy, baby!"

"Oh yesssss!" Claire gasped, "My hole is burning up! Fuck me baby, fuck my hot cunt!"

As Dean slammed in and out of Mrs. Claire St. John's pussy, he heard what he knew was a final and fulfilling groan from her husband. He looked over just in time to see the older man's hips straining upwards and a thin stream of watery cum ooze from the head of his cock. Dean smiled to himself; he knew that when he shot his own load that Claire St. John was going to know all about it!

"Any time you want, baby." Dean mumbled through clenched teeth as he relentlessly ploughed into Claire's sexy body. "Anytime you want it!"

"Yes! Yes, I want it!" Claire cried lustily. "I want it. I want your cum. Do it baby. Cum for me!"

Dean was happy to oblige. With a long moan he wrenched his tool from Claire's dripping slit and gripped the head. With his other hand he quickly thrust two fingers back into her gleaming hole and finger-fucked her frantically while jerking his cock. Claire's head lolled back and her mouth opened in a long, searing wail as yet another climax washed over her. Dean could hold back no longer. His balls felt ready to explode and with a quick rub of his cock head against Claire's engorged nipple he felt the cum screaming up through his shaft. The air was alive with the sounds of sexual excess. Cries and moans echoed around the room as Dean's cum continued to surge from the head of his cock and splash obscenely onto Claire's breasts and trickled down through her ample cleavage. Her fingers cupped his balls again, teasing him and encouraging every last drop of the precious liquid from his loins.

"That was quite a display of prowess!" Henry St. John said as the sweat stained bodies finally rolled apart. "I just wish I could have joined in."

"So why didn't you?" Dean asked, attempting to regain control of his gasped breathing, "I wouldn't have minded and I'm pretty sure your wife wouldn't!"

"You're right there!" Henry continued with a laugh, "Claire would have loved it, wouldn't you, honey?"

Mrs. St. John nodded wordlessly before her husband continued a little sadly

"But it's only watching that does it for me, I'm afraid. That's why we come to these large impersonal hotels; in the hope of finding a willing young bartender or waiter that is prepared to give Claire what she wants – what she needs."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Henry St. John quickly pulled a robe around his naked body and got up to answer it.

"Er...I found these on table seventeen," Marc said with a grin as he stood in the doorway surveying the scene inside. "I thought I should come straight up and see if you needed them!"

"There's only one thing I need right now!" Claire St. John purred as she stretched her naked body back on the sofa. "And I think you can most certainly provide it!"

Dean watched his friend grin wickedly as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.



Table & Bed



The agonized scream that pierced the hazy somnolence of the afternoon was muffled in the thick carpeting of needles under the pine trees. Geran reined his horse to a halt, listening, his heart pounding. The scream came again. Animal or human, he could not tell, but it was close. He swung easily from the saddle of his gelding, tying it quickly to a convenient branch. He eased the short sword in the scabbard at his side, then strung the longbow that had been slung over his shoulder.

With an arrow nocked he eased his way between the trees until he could see the trail ahead. He moved cautiously, careful where he placed his feet, easing forward. He stopped as movement caught his eye. A roughly-dressed figure, coarse-featured, had stood upright for a moment, then bent again. Geran eased forward, soft, silent, then drew in his breath.

Ambush! A body was sprawled slackly beside a dead horse. Whether male or female Geran couldn't tell, the tunic and trousers very much like his own, the features concealed by the horse. The man he had spotted was now bent over another. An arrow protruded from the supine figure's leg. As Geran watched, the outlaw took hold of the arrow and moved it, causing a fresh cry of anguish from the victim, a mirthless laugh from his assailant.

Geran moved his attention away from the torture. Three others were in the clearing, two of them apparently from the same band as the torturer. One of them held the third with her arms twisted behind her back; the other reached out and as Geran watched ripped the tunic from the girl's torso, revealing her slim perfection. The man reached out a filthy hand and squeezed the girl's breast, egged on by his companion.

Geran made his choice and stepped out into the clearing, drawing the bowstring back. No sooner had he done so than the single attacker by the downed figure was dead, pierced by Geran's first arrow. The noise of his fall drew the instant attention of his companions and a part of Geran's mind took a moment to admire their discipline as they seized their weapons, pushing the girl away from them in a stumbling run, then separated as they came towards him. The nearer brigand was down almost instantly, an arrow through his chest. The third halted, uncertain, confused, and died that way, still bewildered by the speed of the weapon which had killed his companions. Geran nocked a fourth arrow and stepped forward, cautious.

The girl, the ragged remnants of her tunic held to her chest, regarded him, uncertain, poised for flight. He smiled to reassure her and stooped to the outlaw who had died last. Geran put a hand to the man's throat to make sure and the absence of pulse let him relax. Checking the others was the work of moments and he turned to the girl. She regarded him steadily, wary, yet no sign of fear on her face.

Geran smiled and gestured to the figure with the arrow in its leg. "We must help your companion."

The girl nodded and ran to the moaning figure. As Geran got closer he saw that it was a young man, a boy rather, and the missile had pierced the meaty part of his thigh. 'Crossbow', thought Geran, that must be why they charged me. They expected me to be using a crossbow, too, and would be slow in reloading. They mustn't have seen the longbow before. He turned to the girl, on her knees beside him, her face anxious.

"Are these bolts barbed?" he asked, indicating the missile in the boy's leg.

"Yes, they are," she replied, her voice low and throaty, attractive.

"In that case I'll have to push it through, before your friend wakens."

"My brother," she said quietly. "How can I help?"

"Hold him steady. If he wakes he'll think I'm torturing him."

"I am awake." The voice was thin with pain, but steady.

There was a dagger in the boy's belt and Geran took it from its sheath. The girl stiffened in alarm. Geran smiled and flipped the weapon so that he was holding the blade. He turned to the boy.

"Bite on this," he said, offering the hilt to the boy's mouth. "What I am going to do will hurt." The boy bit on the hilt and Geran turned to the girl. "Hold him firmly, while I get this bolt out."

Careless of her torn tunic, the girl took her brother by the shoulders. As he turned to the missile, Geran could not help but glimpse the loveliness of her shapely breasts. Glimpse too the flush which suffused her face. He was careful not to look at her, to preserve in some way a shred of dignity for the girl. The crossbow bolt had penetrated the meat of the boy's thigh. Geran felt carefully at the back of the leg and was rewarded by the feel of a hard lump in the flesh. The bolt was almost through. He turned to the boy.

"Ready?" he asked. The boy nodded, the dagger hilt clenched in his teeth. On his shoulders his sister's knuckles whitened. Without hesitation, Geran pushed hard on the bolt, pushing it through the boy's leg. The scream was muffled by the dagger hilt clenched in the boy's mouth, then the weapon dropped to the ground as the boy fainted. Geran quickly checked and was rewarded by a firm pulse.

"Is he..." the girl began, her hands at her mouth.

Geran shook his head. "He fainted." He looked the girl in the eye. "I need bandages."

She nodded and stripped the torn remnants of her tunic from her torso. There was a high spot of colour in her cheeks as she held the rags out to Geran. "This is all I have."

Geran smiled and pointed. "Over there in the trees you will find my horse. In the saddlebag you will find two clean shirts. Wear one and bring me the other," he said. "Go!" he said as she hesitated. She leaped to her feet and ran.

Geran turned to her brother. He took a deep breath then snapped the bolt where it protruded beneath the boy's thigh, before taking a firm hold of the feathered end of the shaft and tugging firmly, to be rewarded by the sight of the broken shaft coming free from the wound.

Running feet approached and the girl scrambled to a stop beside him, carrying both shirts. She held one out to him and as he took his dagger to slit it into strips, hastily donned the other. Geran slit the boy's breeches with his dagger, then quickly bandaged the wounded leg. The bandages reddened as he applied them, but as he wound a further layer around the leg he was relieved to see that the bleeding seemed no worse. 'Not the artery', he thought, relieved.

"Will he live?" asked the girl, tension in her tone.

"He should be fine, if we can get him to a bed and shelter," said Geran. "What is near?"

"We were almost home when we were attacked," she said. "It is but five miles further, sir." She sniffed and dashed her hand across her eyes. She pointed. "Aldor was killed in the attack. I think they were after me," she said in a small voice.

"What makes you think so?" asked Geran.

The girl drew herself up proudly. "I am Illana n'Ellora, House Pesdal. I would bring high ransom."

“I think they had baser things in mind,” said Geran. He bowed courteously to her. "Fral Pesdal, allow me to introduce myself. Geran m'Handor, House Tolnan."

"You are well come, sir," she said. She looked around. "The other horses bolted."

"Would you go and fetch mine, please. Your brother needs to ride." The girl nodded and ran back into the trees, returning in moments with Geran's gelding. Geran went over to the body beside the dead horse, then smiled in spite of himself. The 'dead' body was on its knees, shaking its head. As Geran neared, the man looked up, a scowl of rage on his bloodied face and staggered to his feet, groping for the sword at his belt.

"Aldor! No!" The girl's voice was shrill with entreaty.

Aldor stopped, his sword half drawn. "My lady?" he said.

"I am a friend," said Geran. He gestured. "Your attackers are bested."

Aldor looked around him, dazed, and put his hand to his head, wincing, his hand coming away bloodied. Geran stepped closer and studied the wound.

"You have a hard head, my friend," he said. "It looks as if a crossbow bolt has hit your head at an angle, then bounced off your skull. The wound is messy and will need stitching."

"Let us get the lass safe home first, then we can look to stitching me," Aldor growled. "How is Jonal?"

"The lad?"

"Aye."

"A hole in his leg, but he'll live. Can you give me a hand getting him on my horse?"

"That much I can. I think." Aldor put his hand to his head and winced again.

Very shortly they had Jonal on Geran's horse, his sister leading it. Geran took point and Aldor, his head hastily bandaged, rearguard. Geran led off and they had gone scarcely five hundred paces when they came to a clearing where three horses were tethered. From their equipment Geran guessed they were the outlaws' mounts. Mounted now, Geran led off again. They had gone but a mile further when a thunder of hooves alerted them and Geran led the way off the road, but when the ten riders came into sight, Illana uttered a joyful cry, spurred her horse onto the trail and waited. Geran followed Aldor onto the trail as the riders drew their horses to a halt.

"My lady," said the leader, a lean, scarred veteran, giving a quick but searching glance at Geran, "we feared the worst. Two horses came back riderless, Jonal's with blood on the saddle."

"But for this gallant warrior, I fear Jonal and Aldor would be dead. Myself...," she broke off, shuddering.

The soldier turned his full attention to Geran, studying him carefully. He nodded. "We owe you thanks, sir. May I ask your name?"

Before Geran could reply, Illana spoke. "He is Geran Tolnan, and he is my guest."

The man nodded. "My lady." He turned to Geran and held out his hand. "I am Seth Dulan, Captain of the Lady Ellora's guards." His clasp was firm. "Come, let's return and get Aldor and Jonal medical attention."

Within the hour Geran was being shown to an elegant guest room within the fortified house, castle almost, which was the home of the Lady Ellora and her family. Courteous attendants brought fresh apparel for him, and his travel stained clothing was taken away to be cleaned. The senior attendant, a slender woman in her middle twenties, alone remained. Adjusting the flow of hot water into his bath, she smiled at him.

"Is there anything else my lord desires?" she asked, unmistakable meaning in her question, bent as she was over the bath, her smile broadening, cheeks dimpling, as his eyes were drawn to the sensuous cleft between her breasts.

Geran chose to ignore the obvious invitation. "Thank you, no," he said, smiling at her. Seeing her obvious disappointment, he softened his refusal. "Perhaps later."

"Does my lord then require a bath attendant?" she asked hopefully.

About to refuse, he thought, 'why not?', and smiled at her. "That would be pleasant."

She smiled. "If my lord would care to disrobe and step into the bath, I will join him in a moment."

"Very well," said Geran, and discarded the loose robe which had replaced his riding clothes. He was aware of the admiring glance from the attendant as she left the bathing room, aware too of her quick appraisal of his dormant prick. Geran stepped down into the bath and eased himself into the warm water, stretching out comfortably, his head on the padded rest provided.

The attendant was as good as her word, coming in with an armful of towels and a bag slung from her shoulder with what he assumed were oils and unguents. He tried not to stare, for she had discarded her robe and had a mere scrap of cloth twisted about her hips. She had tied her long, dark hair up and her breasts were bare. Bare and beautiful, and he felt his prick stir in the warm water. She loosened and discarded the cloth and stepped naked down into the huge bath. She reached to the bag she had placed at the bath side and took out a bottle of oil and a strigil.

"Would my lord please lie on the bath side?" she asked, indicating the length of soft matting laid along one edge. "Face down," she added.

Geran did as she bade him and soon felt strong hands rubbing the oil into his skin, then the scraping of the strigil as she removed the oils and dirt from his skin. Finished, she took a cloth and rinsed him with warm water from the bath.

"Please turn over now, my lord," she asked. Geran did so, a little embarrassed at displaying the beginnings of an erection. The woman glanced at it and the trace of a smile appeared on her lips. She began to rub the oil into his chest and legs.

"What is your name?" Geran asked.

"Melora," she replied, meeting his eyes for the first time, then taking the strigil she began to scrape the oils and dirt from his chest. As she worked, her face was close to his and Geran was sorely tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her. Perhaps the thought was in her own mind, too, for there was a flush in her cheeks as she worked. As she moved down his chest, towards his waist, Geran watched the pretty sway of her breasts as she worked, wondering what she would be like between the sheets, for it was long since he had enjoyed the attentions of a woman. She was undoubtedly attractive and he wondered idly how she would navigate his prick, which was beginning to thicken and swell as his interest manifested itself. As she reached his hips with the strigil, she ceased to pretend that nothing was happening and gave her open attention to his now hard weapon.

"My lord is mightily endowed," she said softly and made a tentative move to touch him, but paused and looked to him for permission.

"Please," he said thickly, then closed his eyes as her fingers clasped his hardness, her touch gentle, her still oily fingers moving easily over his prick, stimulating him, her thumb running lightly over the end, her other hand cupping the sac of his balls. She paused and he opened his eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes pleading.

"May I serve my lord?" she whispered.

"Gods, yes!" he muttered, his voice hoarse, and she clambered from the bath to kneel astride him, before lowering herself onto his erection, the wet heat of her a scald on him. She was soaking with her own need and she sank easily down onto him and paused, her eyes closed, a sigh of satisfaction escaping her as she adjusted herself to having him within her.

"Oh, yes!" she whispered, "my lord is indeed mighty." She began to move then, raising herself so that he almost left her, then lowering again to take him deep within her, raising, lowering....

He raised his hands and cupped her breasts, soft, heavy in his hands, the nipples stiff, hardening even more as his thumbs moved over them. She sighed and briefly clasped his hands to her, never ceasing her slow, hot stimulation of his pole. Her movements were almost languid in the damp warmth of the bathing room, but the nerves beneath his skin were responding to her steady motion and he could feel the pressures building in him, slow but sure.

The moment was getting to her too and her movements quickened, soft gasps escaping her lips each time she came down on him, liquid slither of her nether lips against his hardness, lubricating, easing his passage. Faster she moved, imperceptibly faster, until she was slamming down on him, gasping, her eyes wild, her breathing frantic, gasping for breath, sweat beading her brow in the warmth of the bathing room.

A wordless moan escaped her lips, then she stifled a scream as her orgasm took her, lifting her, a spasm grasping him and pushing him over his own orgasmic precipice as his prick pulsed and his seed jetted deep within her, a gasping, exultant "Yes!" her only utterance as their shared climax shook them both into gradual immobility. She collapsed across him, boneless in her post-coition languor, breathing heavily.

Gradually they stilled, until suddenly she sat up and scrambled from him, but lost her balance on the edge of the bath and fell into the water with an untidy splash. She scrambled to her feet, her hair dripping and stared at him in alarm, trembling.

"What’s wrong?" Geran asked, bewildered by the sudden change, fighting to suppress a laugh at her bedraggled appearance.

"I have not yet finished cleaning my lord," Melora stammered.

"You have not yet finished pleasing your lord," Geran said, smiling.

"What is left undone, lord?" she whispered, a worried look on her face.

Geran took her hand and smiled. "Kiss me, Melora," he said. "Then finish cleaning my legs. Then you can wash me, and I can wash you, before we dress." He grinned at her. "That will please me."

A smile came to her face and she leaned down and gave him a quick, light kiss on the lips, then turned to her oils and strigil, beginning her work on his legs.

Alone in his quarters, later, Geran reflected on Melora. Beautiful, undoubtedly, and passionate, for there was no mistaking the eager way in which she had served him. And she had certainly enjoyed washing him and then being washed in her turn for her giggles were still ringing in his ears. He hoped he would have a further opportunity to sample her delights. He was pondering on this when a knock came and the door to his quarters opened to reveal Seth Dulan.

"You are ready?" asked Dulan. "The Lady Ellora seeks your company at dinner."

"I am ready," said Geran. He smiled at the tough-looking captain. "And hungry."

Dulan grinned, then held up his hand as Geran made to leave the room. "A moment, please," he said soberly.

"Yes, what is it?" Geran asked, curious.

"The Lady Ellora intends to offer you the hospitality of House Pesdal, 'Table and Bed'. Do you know what this signifies?" Dulan asked.

Geran looked at Dulan, trying to remember his history of these mountain people. "I believe it means that she intends to offer me my choice of the female members of her household to share my bed," he said slowly, thinking 'perhaps I can ask for Melora'.

Dulan nodded. "Good, but not quite," he said. "It means you must choose from the female members of her immediate family. She does you a great honour, Geran Tolnan, for saving her son and her daughter. Were it only your choice from the household, the offer would be, ‘this Household, Table and Bed’. Because she intends to name her House, that is what makes the difference."

Geran was startled. "What if I were to decline?" he asked.

Dulan frowned. "The Lady Ellora would be courteous, but she would be deeply offended."

"I will take care not to offend her, then," said Geran. "Shall we go?" he said, wondering just who was going to be in his bed that night.

Seth Dulan led the way to a dining room, the table set with silver and sparkling linen. The Lady Ellora was sitting on a couch at the side of the room, elegant in a gown of blue and silver, modest in cut. Illana sat beside her mother, clad in a rich red robe which clung to her shapely contours, low at the neck, the upper slopes of her lovely breasts bare. On Ellora’s other side an older girl, sufficiently like Illana to make Geran sure that she was her sister, red-headed, in a gown of deep green. The Lady Ellora caught sight of him and Seth Dulan and stood in welcome.

“Geran, son of Handor, House Tolnan, welcome to my home.” Ellora surprised him then by dipping in a low and gracious curtsy.

Geran bowed low in return. “You honour me, Lady Ellora.”

“Ah, no, Geran, you honour us. My son and daughter owe you their lives and for this there can be no reward great enough.”

Geran smiled. “Their safety is reward enough, Lady Ellora. How is your son?”

“Jonal is well, thanks to you.” She gestured the girls forward. “My daughter Illana you have met.” Illana dipped in deep curtsy, bending forward, the cleavage between her breasts drawing his eyes like a magnet.

Geran bowed. “My lady Illana.”

Ellora indicated the other girl. “Illana’s sister, Eliena.”

“Lord Geran,” said the redhead, dipping in curtsy as deep as her sister. She smiled at him in obvious invitation, a deep dimple appearing in her cheek.

“Lady Eliena,” Geran responded courteously.




Table for Four



"I don't know how you did that," she said. "But do it again. Please."

Jason and Molly were alone, in the deserted hallway of the upstairs portion of the upscale martini bar. Her skin was flushed, quivering, in the aftershocks on an orgasm she hadn't planned on, hadn't expected, hadn't deemed possible.

She wanted him to do it again. And again. And again.

Instead, he leaned in, kissed her lips, grabbed the small of her back in a confident way. 

"In time. In time."

And -- boom -- just like that, he was gone. Back to the table, where no one was the wiser.

It had been just hours ago that Jason had texted her. "What do you think about the four of us going out for drinks? Just hang out a bit, see where it goes?" he wrote.

It seemed innocent enough. 

Molly was attracted to him, sure, but she was married. He was married, too. They were all sexually liberal people. That was no secret. And there had been glances, flirts, texts exchanged all around. There had even been the time when Molly's husband, Kevin, cornered Jason's spouse, Allison, in a hallway and kissed her.

But when it came right down to it, what would happen? And Jason was the unknown to Molly. He seemed confident. He was attractive. But she didn't know him particularly well.

So, yeah, maybe some low-key get-to-know-you drinks in a public place would be in order. 

They decided to meet at this swanky martini bar for drinks and appetizers. They sat at a four-person table in the corner. 

Jason was sucking back Grey Goose martinis with bleu-cheese olives. He was dressed elegantly, a suit, tie, he went all out. Allison was decked out, too, in a skirt with a cool-looking black top and a purple corset peeking out, sipping on non-alcoholic mocktails, eying Kevin, in khakis and a nice button down shirt.

Molly knew that Jason had certain things that he really liked. Dresses. A retro, sexy look. She played that part well with a red halter dress, black tights, heels. It exposed her neck, back, arms, showed skin in the places he liked to see skin.

They all made small talk. Sports. Weather. Schools. 

Underneath the table, when Allison was engrossed in conversation with Kevin, Jason's hand grazed the smooth textured tights on Molly's knee. It excited him. It excited her, brief as the touch was.

Naughtily, unbeknownst to the others, she moved her leg closer to his, so the fabrics of their clothes were clinging to one another. It was a signal -- a subtle one -- that she wanted more.

And as the four of them talked about nothing in particular, he began stroking her knee with his fingers. Gently, he did it at first, then worked up to her thigh, so it was just underneath the hem of her dress. Then he slowly moved his hand to the top of her thigh, then to the inside of it.

Jason and Molly blushingly looked across the table, noted that their spouses were oblivious to what was going on, and Molly felt the moistness between her legs growing. He was barely touching her thigh, but it made her quiver. He loved the texture of her tights and made him hot, hard, nervous.

The waiter brought appetizers to the table and Molly excused herself, wanting to take herself out of the situation before it became too obvious. She was gone for a couple of minutes before Jason got up and followed, Allison and Kevin talking about something obscure -- perhaps the economy -- seemingly disinterested with the departures.

Jason took the staircase upstairs, timed perfectly to see Molly coming out of the restroom. She looked at him, and he at her. He moved toward her and, without saying a word, grabbed her by the waist and pushed her toward the wall. With her back against the wood paneling, he kissed her passionately on the lips. She groaned as he did this and he could feel her pulse through her lips. It was a powerful kiss and it made her knees buckle a little bit. She pushed her hands inside his jacket, grabbed his torso, dug her fingernails in a bit. He stuck his tongue gently onto her lips, felt the underside of her teeth. She breathed heavily, dug her fingernails into his side deeper. He pulled his lips away, moved down to her neck, licked it, sucked on it. 

She opened her eyes to see if anyone was watching. She wasn't sure if she would have been embarrassed or liked it, had there been. But the hallway was empty. 

She began to close her eyes, when Jason spun Molly around, pressed her chest against the wall. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, his right arm around her shoulders, and put his right hand just inside the top of her dress. He gently moved his hand inside, underneath Molly's bra, pinched her left nipple ever so slightly. She exhaled deeply, put her cheek on the wall, felt her body quiver and the hardness inside his pants poking into her backside.

He kissed the back of her neck. 

"I want you," he said. "I know I shouldn't be doing this yet, but I can't control myself."

He spun her around again. Put his hand on the inside of her right thigh and moved it up inside her dress. He kissed her, continuing to move his hand higher and higher. The heat coming from inside her tights was incredible. It was frustrating, not really being able to get to the parts that he wanted to through two layers of clothing, but he could feel the pulsing of her clitoris. He rubbed at it, while kissing her, sticking his tongue in her mouth, pinning her against the wall. She lifted her leg, wrapped it around his leg, rocked her crotch against his fingers. She was overcome, and then she came, grabbing the back of his head with her left hand, grabbing his ass with her right hand, screaming into his mouth.

How had he made her orgasm so quickly? How did he leave the table so non-chalantly? How hot did he look in that tie?

"I don't know how you did that," she said, "but do it again. Please."

He pulled away. 

"In time. In time."

And then he went back to the table, took his seat, Molly following behind.

They tried to act as if nothing had happened, although Molly, still feeling the wetness in her panties, couldn't stop stealing glances at Jason. As they finished their food and drinks, Allison grabbed Jason's hand, kissed it, told him she loved him.

As they paid the check, Allison whispered into his ear. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, the drinks were awesome."

"Not the drinks, silly, whatever you did with Molly upstairs."

Blushing, he said, "Um...."

"I can smell her, ever so slightly, on your hands."

"Are you mad?"

"No. Not at all. Did you enjoy it?"

"I would like to enjoy more."

"Well," Allison said, "then I think you should. I think we all should."

Allison kept whispering ideas into Jason's head, and he kept glancing at Molly, then Kevin, then back to Molly. He grinned, as if the greatest idea since TiVo had come to him.

As they all piled into Jason's car, he said, "I've got something planned."

He drove uptown to the nicest hotel in town. Allison chuckled, as she whispered things into Kevin's ear in the back of the car. As if he'd just been clued in on the joke, he glanced at Jason in the rearview mirror and smiled. 

Molly wondered what the fuck was going on. 

Jason led the group to the lobby, where he arranged for a room -- a king bed and a sofa -- and then grabbed the key to the sixth-floor abode.

They entered the room and Molly hadn't mustered the courage to so much as ask a question as to what was going on. When she saw Allison and Kevin immediately sit on the couch and snuggle up with one another, her confusion heightened.

She turned around and asked Jason, "OK, what is going on?"

"I'm going to fuck you," he said. "And they're going to watch."

She was somewhat shocked, didn't know what to say. 

"If you want out," Jason continued, "now's the time."

"Oh, she's in," Kevin chimed in from the background. "Trust me."

"Is that true?" Jason asked, walking toward her. Grabbing her ass, pulling her close, he went further, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes."

"How badly?"

"So badly."

"Will you do whatever I want?"

"Yes."

He pushed her onto the bed, so she was sitting down. He took off his coat, threw it across the room. He unzipped his fly, pulled out his cock. 

"I want you to give me the sexiest, wettest blow job you ever have."

She took his cock in her hand, felt it throb. She was so turned on. She licked her hands, stroked it gently, felt it get bigger and bigger. She licked the top of it, teasing it with her tongue. She flicked her tongue on his foreskin, listened to him moan. She moved his penis at an angle, so she could suck on the shaft, moving her mouth up and down. She spit on his cock, let her saliva dangle from it, then grabbed it to moisten her hands and moved it up and down his cock. Finally, when she sensed Jason couldn't take it any more, she put the whole cock in her mouth. She wanted it deep, deep as it could go. She moved her head up and down on his cock, felt his hands gently on the back of her head, pushing slightly. 

She took his cock out of her mouth, licked his balls. That made him moan; he loved getting his balls licked. 

Jason looked at the couch, saw Allison gently stroking the outside of Kevin's pants, as they looked on with great attention.

Feeling as if he might come, Jason took his cock out of Molly's mouth. He kissed her spit-covered mouth. It made him hot to feel so messy, to see her looking so naughty. 

He pushed her back on to the bed, took her legs in the air. He kissed her calves, while pressing his hand up and inside her dress.

He moved his face lower and lower, until it was close to her crotch. Then Jason did something Molly didn't expect. He grabbed her tights, ripped them open, exposed the smooth, pale skin of her thighs. He licked the inside of her thighs, kept ripping until he could see her panties. He moved her panties out of the way, so he could expose her pussy. 

He gently licked her clit, as she immediately began moaning.

"Yes, fucking lick my pussy. Please. Please. Make me come," Molly said.

Her clitoris throbbed against his tongue, which he moved up and down, side to side, in circles. He moved it down, stuck his tongue inside her, then moved it back to her clit. She arched her back, began screaming.

"Yes, yes," she screamed.

He moved his hands up Molly's legs, reached inside her dress, pulled down the remnants of her tights and her panties, exposing her lower half. He wanted all of her pussy. He licked her clitoris and felt inside her with his finger, then with a second finger. She was wildly wet, and he liked that. He buried his face in her pussy as much as he could, found her G-spot and palpated it slowly at first, then faster as it hardened. She began arching her back again.

"Come on my face, Molly," he said, his voice muffled by her legs wrapped around him.

He kept licking, kept using his fingers and she grabbed on to the comforter, coming for a third time that night, so intensely she felt as if she was exploding like a firecracker.

She looked over at the couch, saw Allison sucking on Kevin's cock, as he watched Molly in the throws of passion. He had a look of ecstasy and bewilderment all at the same time. Allison was stripped down to her underwear and sideways on the couch. Kevin had a finger inside of her as she sucked on his cock. She was moaning, too, almost as loudly as Molly.

Jason stood up and began removing his clothes. Molly laid there, awaiting orders. When he was naked, he told her to take off her dress. She slipped out of it and Jason, almost immediately, pulled her to the edge of the bed. He lifted her legs, put her knees on top of his elbows, and stroked her clit with his cock. As she laid on her back, looking at his hairy chest and feeling his hardness on her wetness, she felt as if she'd do anything he wanted.

He put his cock inside of her, slowly at first, then faster. She was so wet it drove him wild. He licked her legs, bit them, too. Then he pinned her legs back so he could lick her breasts, too. This drove her wild. He was so deep inside of her and sucking on her nipples, she felt as if she was being ravaged by two men, not just one.

"Oh, I have fucking wanted you for so long," she said. "You're so fucking hot. I can't tell you how long I've wanted this."

He looked up at her. 

"You like this?" he asked? "You like me fucking your wet pussy? Playing with your nipples?"

"Yes," she said.

"Say it louder," he said. "I want them to hear."

She screamed, "I love you fucking my wet pussy. I have wanted you for so long. I can't fucking take it."

He kept fucking Molly, who was insatiable. He moved her to her side, felt her thighs and vagina squeezing against his cock, as she rubbed her own clit. Then he turned her onto her stomach, fucked her doggie style, as she reached back between her legs and gently stroked his balls. 

"I can't wait to taste your come," Molly said, readying to orgasm for a fourth time.

She looked up and, surprisingly, saw Allison's face, red and in the throws of an orgasm, just inches from her own. Kevin had bent her over the bed and was fucking her from behind. He was thrusting hard and Allison was groaning, "Harder, fuck me harder. ... I want you to shoot your come inside of me. ... Do it. ... Do it."

The people next door to this room were getting quite a concert, Kevin thought.

Kevin was hammering away at Allison's backside, and the bed began squeaking and shaking with the force of it. Molly could feel the vibrations of that under her, as Jason fucked her from behind, too.

Kevin began shouting. Allison was, too. He grabbed her ass firmly as he exploded inside of her, and Allison, drenched in sweat, couldn't help but smile as she collapsed onto the bed.

Seeing Allison and Kevin come was all Molly needed. She grabbed the comforter and began screaming in Allison's and Kevin's direction.

"Oh, he's fucking me so good. You're so fucking lucky, Allison. Oh, I love his cock. I want his come. I want to share his come with you."

Molly came hard, her body shaking so much with aftershocks that she couldn't take having that cock inside of her any longer. She moved forward, then turned around and looked at Jason, drenched in sweat.

"Baby," Molly said, "I want you to fucking come on both of us, OK?"

One of his biggest fantasies about to be realized, he laid down on the bed. Molly and Allison both began licking opposite sides of his cock, until they got to the top, when their tongues began touching. They stopped so they could kiss, tongues in each other's mouths, for a moment, and then returned to tend to Jason's cock.

Allison put his cock in her mouth in familiar fashion. She licked the top, then moved up and down, before taking it out and feeding it into Molly's mouth with her hand. Molly licked gently and then forcefully. They took turns for a few moments. 

Feeling he was ready to come, Jason got onto his knees. The ladies, laying on their stomachs, flicked the foreskin of his penis with their tongues until he began groaning. Then Molly began jacking his cock until his hot sperm shot onto her tongue. There was gobs of it; he'd been working this up all night. It kept shooting and shooting into her mouth, as he screamed, "Oh, you are so damn sexy. Both of you are so fucking sexy."

Then Molly, a mouth full of come, looked at Allison, moved closer and began kissing her. Their tongues out, they swapped Jason's come, and this kept his penis erect. As the girls kissed for a moment, then swallowed, they realized one thing they'd really missed out on that night was playing with one another.

As they all fell onto the bed, they realized, there had been so many scenarios not yet explored.

"It was a good start, I'd say," Jason said. 

And they all laughed.



Table for One



A/N Just a quick story. Not sure if I should continue? Please let me know.

***********

I sat at my table for one at my favourite coffee shop watching the world go by the window. Each person with a look of intent, obviously eager to reach their destination. 

It was then that I saw her. My God she was beautiful. Whispers of hair framed her face from her long brown hair that was tied back with a purple ribbon that matched the delicate shirt she was wearing. Obviously she took care of herself and loved who she was.

I think I fell in love with her then and there.

I watched in excitement when I saw her had go to the door of the coffee shop. I could only hope that I would get the chance to say hello.

My heart sank when I saw her look around and then join a man at a table next to mine. All the beautiful women were spoken for.

I decided to finish my coffee and head home to wallow in my sadness with a bowl of double choc chip icecream. What else could I do? My love life was in shambles. I'd been rejected, tossed away by my ex a few months ago because he couldn't handle the ribbing he got from his 'friends' for loving a big woman. Oh I know how much he loved my size but it takes a hell of a person to love someone different.

I sat there trying to ignore the man and woman but it was obvious the tension was increasing. Their conversation was becoming rapid hisses of anger. People around them were obviously uncomfortable.

"I'm embarrassed by you!'

"Oh really? You're embarrassed by your own sister?"

"Brother! You're my brother!" 

"I've never been your brother. Not in here!" A hand with pale coloured polish rested on her chest. "In my heart and mind I've always been female Stephen. I AM female."

"You were born male Peter..."

"Raine. My name is Raine. Using Peter is an insult to who I am."

"Having a brother who dresses up in women's clothing and fake boobs is insulting to me. I don't understand why you do it. Obviously you're ill. You have a sickness that..."

"I don't have a sickness damn you! This is who I am! I don't do it to insult you or embarrass you. I dress this way because for the first time in my life I am being exactly who I should be. My boobs aren't fake, they're real."

"Only because you take a cocktail of chemical hormones to grow them! Do you even still have your dick or has that shrivelled up to nothing?"

"Oh my God! Are you serious? YES!" She hissed "I still have my dick. Yes I still use it just like you do..."

"What... In some guys arse?"

"No. For fu... I still love women. I still love the feel of being inside a woman."

Stephen laughed "And what sort of freak would want someone like you?"

Raine sat with her mouth dropped open and I could see the tears start to fall.

My heart broke for her. I wanted to hold her and soothe away her tears. I don't know that I'd call myself a lesbian because I'm not interested in going down on a woman, hell the idea makes me feel sick; but a pair of boobs? Yeah I could happily suck on them while being fucked with a dick. That to me is the ultimate desire.

"Me."

Two sets of eyes swung to look at me. One, a male set, looked me up and down and scoffed. The other, a beautiful brown set softened as she looked at me. 

"I would. I would accept your sister for the beautiful woman she is and love her like there was no tomorrow."

I stood up at this point. I am definitely a large woman and didn't expect for anything to come from my words but just to let Raine know that she had someone on her side was what mattered the most.

I looked directly into those eyes and smiled. Her quick smile back at me sent flutters into my very soul. 

"It was lovely to meet you Raine."

"You too..."

"Carol."

"Oh so what? Now you're a lesbian? So what the hell does that make you?" Stephen was looking at me with cold fury that made me inwardly cringe.

"Stephen! Don't be so damn rude. Carol didn't ask for..."

"Oh yes she did. She butted into our conversation not the other way around."

"That still doesn't mean you can be so insensitive. Stephen you're my brother and I love you but you need to pull your head out of your arse and look around you. People are different."

"Well you sure as hell made sure of that didn't you?"

"Stephen you're a dick."

His mouth dropped open, his eyes widened in shock and Raine started to giggle with fingers covering her mouth.

"You have a gorgeous sister who was brought up as a male..."

"She... HE.. is male... not some hyped up tranny."

"Don't use the word tranny. Do you have any idea how much that insults me Stephen?" Raine shook her head in disgust.

"Don't care. Don't know what to call you so I'll say what I want. Hell if I wanted to call you boobs-n-dick then I will." He swung around to me so suddenly that I jumped. "Are you still here?"

I looked down at his crotch and bit my tongue to stop the smile that wanted to give way at his discomfort.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Oh" I pointed to myself "you mean me?"

"Yes you!" he ran a hand over his face "oh what the hell am I doing? I'm stuck talking to a fag and a fatso..."

"Stephen!" Raine stood quickly and had clenched fists.

"You want to know what I was doing? I was wondering how big your balls are because from where I'm standing they're either very tiny or you need to grow some!"

And with that, I nodded to Raine who smiled widely at me and left the coffee shop, leaving behind a silent room that exploded with laughter as the door swung shut. I was hoping that one day I may get to meet her again, even just to be friends.

I walked away with a bounce in my step and realised that I was no longer needing that bowl of icecream.