2 comments/ 14258 views/ 2 favorites Illicit Liaison Ch. 01 By: pervinplainpackage (I wrote this series of stories without dialogue intentionally as an experiment) We aren't supposed to be together. Both married, both to other people. But we have our reasons, our needs, and this way of satisfying those needs keeps both of our families intact and happy. I pick you up after work in a cab early one afternoon. We're both supposed to still be at work for several more hours. This is our time. You slip into the car next to me, still dressed in your work clothes. That just won't do. The cabbie knows his instructions and drives the cab out to the edge of the development. At the edge of the wooded area is a blanket, just where I've laid it out. He parks the cab next to the blanket, shielding it from the street just as the trees shield if from all other directions. You open the door and without a word, step around the car onto the blanket. Your pulse races as you stand in the makeshift, open-air changing room. With a wicked smile at me you start to strip out of your work clothes, down to your bra and panties, barefoot on the blanket. The cabbie isn't making any effort to disguise his lustful gaze at your beautiful near-naked form. Holding your work clothes in one hand your tap on my window to make the expected exchange with your date outfit. You frown when I don't lower my window, and I love the look of surprise on your face when the cabbie lowers his and reaches out for your clothes. For a moment I think you are about to balk...but then you smile again and hand them over. His hand is shaking more than yours is as he takes them and places them on the set next to him. You look back at me expectantly again. I motion toward the cabbie, who has his hand out the window, this time pointing to your chest. Without hesitation you unhook your bra and let the straps fall from your shoulders. I expect you to take it off and hand it to him, but you up the ante and hold it against your chest, lean over his outstretched hand, and let it fall into his grasp. Your bare breasts are inches from his fingertips, and he has a good close-up view of your naked chest. He puts your bra on the seat as you stand topless before him, playing with your nipples, teasing him. With a visibly shaking hand he points to your last item of clothing, and I catch my breath as I don't know what to expect. Your hands trail sensuously down your body, under the waistband of your panties. I can see as your lithe fingers work under the shiny red fabric, slowly at first, then more quickly. The excitement of the exposure, the wantonness of your acts, and the feeling of your fingertips buried inside your wet pussy and frantically working your clit are too much to take for long. You start to shudder and collapse to your knees in orgasm, still rubbing yourself as you spasm again and again. Your hair falls forward, obscuring your face as you gasp and shake. When you have recovered, you lie back on the blanket, slide your hands out of your panties and press the fabric tightly against your sopping pussy, soaking up your passion. You raise your hips and slide your panties down, giving the cabbie an unobstructed view of your feminine treasure. Your rise to your feet and sinuously step up close again, placing the balled up damp fabric into his trembling hand. With one hand you close his fingers around your delicate lingerie, with the other you guide the fragrant gift to his face, and he inhales deeply of your sexual scent. As you stand naked, hands on hips with a self-satisfied smirk, I roll down my window as he rolls his up, and hand you the bag with your clothes for our date. Our rendezvous has just begun. There's nothing in the bag but a gauzy black satin slip dress and a pair of black pumps. You slide into the almost weightless dress and slip on the high heels. I then hand you a pink butterfly vibrator...the kind with straps that you wear under your clothes. You put it on so that the body of the butterfly rests against your still moist lips, and the head presses against your sensitive clit. I hand you a sheer black thong and you slide it over the butterfly, pressing it against you. It sends a chill through you even though I haven't touched the remote that sits tucked in my pants pocket. You feel sleek and totally sexual as I get out of the taxi to hold the door open for you, brushing past me provocatively as you ooze into the car. You frown again as I close the door without getting back in...you were hoping for a little backseat action while we drove to our destination. From the prominent bulge in the front of my black dress slacks, you guess that I would be more than capable of fulfilling the burning need inside you. Instead I give you a wink and go around the car and sit in the front next to the cabbie. I give him the nod and he pulls away. I turn around in my seat and tell you to sit quietly with both hands palms-down under your thighs, feet flat on the floor, legs together. We have a long drive and I plan to tease you the entire time. Illicit Liaison Ch. 02 (I wrote this series of stories without dialogue intentionally as an experiment) I turn to the cabbie as he drives and explain what a naughty little girl you have been over the past several months that we have been seeing each other. As I tell him about some of our past adventures, I set the vibe onto the lowest setting...the waves of gentle pleasure between your legs are not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you squirm. And squirm you do. It's a long drive, and halfway through you are begging me for release, begging me to turn up the remote so that you can cum again. But I am cruel. When you beg and squirm I turn it off entirely and make you sit quietly as I explain to the cabbie in careful details the last time you rode my face, while I bathed your delicious pussy in kisses, licks and nibbles and you trembled and gushed over me. Once you have calmed down again (at least on the outside), and promised to be good, I turn the vibe on the lowest setting and regale the cabbie with more tales of our adventures. You bite your lower lip in growing frustration desperate to achieve another orgasm, and silently damning me for my inattention to your needs. After what seems like an eternity of this exquisite torture we arrive at our destination, a posh beachfront condominium with a rooftop restaurant that faces the shimmering waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The sun still won't set for another half hour at least, and I pay our poor cabbie generously in cash for his services and for his stoic resolve. As he pulls the car into the circular driveway in front of the restaurant entrance, I look down at his long thick erection barely concealed by the fabric of his pants and the wet spot where the tip of his cock must be, and I think he really deserves a more personal gratuity. I get out of cab and walk around to your door, which the valet has already opened allowing you slide sensuously out of the car. Knowing you the way I do, and judging from his sly smile, I'm sure you gave the valet a good view up your short skirt as you placed your shiny stillettoed heels on the curb. As you turn toward the restaurant entrance, soaking in the gaze of both the valet and the doorman who eagerly anticipates your approach, I call out your name and open the cabbie's car door. I explain that he needs your tip as well. You cast a worried glance at me, then at our two other onlookers, but I stare straight into your eyes and with a confident smile assure you that they won't mind at all. I gently reach up and slip the spaghetti straps of the slip dress down off your shoulders, and peel down the fabric to expose your beautiful breasts, pert nipples defiantly standing erect, to the three excited voyeurs. I guide you into a squatting position next to the cabbie, and instruct him to unzip and take out his erection. Your mouth starts to water as the long hard, olive-skinned shaft comes into view. The tip is practically weeping with the clear liquid evidence of his excitement, and you start to lean forward to taste it, but I explain that you need to keep your palate clear for the delicious treasures that await us in the restaurant. Instead, I instruct him to feel your breasts while you stroke him with your delicate hands. He reaches over first, and his hard hands are so gentle, so tentative that you lean into him to let him know that you want a more manly approach. As he starts to knead your tender flesh you gasp in appreciation and reach forward with your right hand to handle his aching tool. With your left you pick up your discarded red panties, still fragrant from your exhibition in the outdoor changing room, and hold them up to his nose and mouth to breathe your lusty scent. You roll his fat, slick tip in the palm of your soft hand, lubricating both. You grip his shaft tightly and slide it slowly down the length as he moans in pleasure through the fabric over his face. As your hand draws up again toward the tip you feel his back start to arch, and his rough fingers tighten painfully on your nipples. You press the panties hard over his mouth to muffle his cries and squeeze his cockhead tightly in your fist, feeling the hot, sticky load fill your hand, oozing between your fingers and down his still hard member. You marvel at the length of his climax, and the copious amount of gooey jism he has ejaculated. He finally relaxes his grip on your nipples, and slumps down in the driver's seat, his body utterly relaxed. The tempting smell of his warm spunk reaches your nostrils, and it takes all your resolve to resist defying my command and wrapping your lips around his softening cock to clean him off and satisfy your hunger. Instead I had you a handkerchief. I've learned in our time together that a good supply of soft cloths is a necessary resource. Pouting, you clean him and wipe off your hand. I reach down and lift the strap of your gauzy dress back into place. The cabbie holds your red panties out to return them to you as I help you to your feet. You smile at him and tell him to keep them as a souvenir of our drive, and with a wink you ask if we can call him again if we ever need a cab. He nods vigorously, continuing to nod even when you turn on your heel, shoot a wicked smile at the gaping valet and the stunned doorman, and strut your sensuous body into the restaurant's posh elevator lobby. I'm so glad I found you. Illicit Liaison Ch. 03 (I wrote this series of stories without dialogue intentionally as an experiment) You stand in front of the mirrored elevator doors thinking that this has been our best adventure yet, and at the same time you have a strong suspicion that we really haven't started on the main part of my plan. If I could hear your thoughts, I'd agree on both counts, but instead I am standing beside you, staring at your gorgeous reflection in the elevators doors, and lost in admiration for what a truly powerful, sexual creature you are. When the bell rings to announce the elevator's arrival I place my hand in the small of your back and lean forward to kiss you gently on the neck, whispering to ask you if you are ready for whatever comes next. You smile back at my reflection and assure me that you are not just ready, but hungry, starving even, for whatever awaits. As we step into the small cabin of the elevator a spontaneous thought arises (no, I really hadn't planned anything for the elevator trip) and I glance at the doorman to ask if the elevator ride is a long one. He replies that it's not, but reaches into his coat pocket and produces one of those circular keys, explaining hopefully that if we don't mind some company he can make the trip last as long as we want. Of course, given what he just witnessed in the driveway, he could have guessed that we don't mind company...at all. But knowing what I do about our plans in the restaurant, I was hoping for a little "alone" time with you while we had a chance. I start to decline his offer when I look up at you, leaning against the back of the elevator with one foot on the floor and the other propped against the wall behind you, your knee lifting the hem of your short dress nearly to the point of exposure. The look on your face is pure feminine lust, and as I follow your gaze to the crotch of the doorman's tight fitting pants, I immediately realize that I had better not completely deny your desires in favor of my own, not if I hope to fulfill my carefully laid plans for the rest of the night. I ask him to join us and hold the elevator door open for him. I see his eyes light up as he steps aboard, and when the doors slide shut I turn to see that your dress is already in a black satin puddle around your ankles, and you are sliding your thong and butterfly down your smooth thighs to expose yourself completely to his unabashed stare. As the panties and vibrator join your dress on the floor and as you kick the whole tangle of garments aside, your reach out and grab the doorman's tie, pulling him toward you for a passionate kiss. He hands me the elevator key, then slides his strong hands down your bare back and under your beautiful naked ass, lifting you off your feet and out of your pumps. You wrap your legs around his back and reach down with both hands to fumble with his belt and zipper, never breaking your heated kiss. Deftly and quickly your fingers unbuckle, unbutton and unzip, and you use your hands and feet to push his pants and boxers down his strong, flexing legs. I hear the sound of his hard cock slap up against you as his erection escapes the waistband of his boxers. I see him curl his hips under you, searching for your entrance with the tip of his organ. Transfixed by the display, I almost forget to put in the key and stop the elevator's swift progress to the restaurant. As I do, the lurch of the elevator pushes you down abruptly onto his shaft, impaling you entirely on his long thin cock. The two of you never break your passionate kiss; even as he thrusts hard into you, slamming you back against the elevator wall, even as your own long-denied orgasm tears through you gasping and shuddering, crying out for more. Your violent climax provokes his, and in a moment he is moaning his own peak of pleasure into your open mouth, bucking hard into your tight pussy as his hot creamy load fills you. Finally the kiss is broken as you both gasp for air, your arms and legs still wrapped tightly around him; he leans against you and the wall for support as his softening member slips out of your pulsing hole, and your combined juices drip onto the tile of the elevator floor. You slide down him and give me a naughty, almost guilty smile as he backs up and leaves you standing, exposed, completely naked, with a sheen of lust still covering you. It's the most delicious and irresistible sight I've ever seen, and I'm on my knees in an instant, lapping at your mixed flavors, teasing your clit with my nose and upper lip as I push my long tongue as far inside as I can. You push my head against you as you shake in a climactic aftershock. When I've cleaned you up as best as I can, you take his flaccid member in your delicate fingers, guiding him toward my mouth. He doesn't resist as you feed his whole salty, sticky cock into the back of my throat. He starts to harden again as I make sure every drop of his semen is drained, and every trace of your lovemaking is carefully licked from his cock and balls. I briefly consider sucking him back to full erection so that we can repeat the performance, but the buzz of the elevator call indicates that someone is waiting, and our brief time is up. He zips himself back up as you slip on the dress and shoes. No time for the thong and butterfly, you simply hand those to me and leave me to figure out how to conceal them. In seconds the elevator doors open onto the posh lobby of the restaurant, the colors of the sunset just beginning to fill the brass and hardwood décor with soft orange light. As we step out of the elevator cabin, past the two elderly, early-bird diners waiting to ride down, I wonder if the man notices the disheveled look to your hair, sees the glisten of sweat on your body, is aware of the points of your erect nipples pressing through the fabric of your dress, or detects the trail of cum slowly creeping down your inner thigh. You wonder if the lady perceives the musky scent of sex in the elevator, decodes the self-satisfied smirk of the doorman as he welcomes them aboard, avoids the puddle of your lovemaking still on the tile of the elevator floor, or recognizes the pink shape of the butterfly vibrator I am simply holding behind my back in an artless attempt to hide it. The young, pretty brunette hostess behind the podium greats us with a cryptic smile, aware before I say a word that I am the man who specifically reserved booth 236 earlier this week. She introduces herself as Jessica and offers to lead us to that special location at the far end of the sumptuous dining room. Both of us fail to notice the furtive glance she gives to the hidden monitor in the podium, currently displaying a high-definition, full-color view from the camera in the ceiling of the elevator as she watches her boyfriend, the doorman, holding the door for the little old lady as she exits on the ground floor. Illicit Liaison Ch. 04 (I wrote this series of stories without dialogue intentionally as an experiment) We follow Jessica to the end of the long arc of the restaurant. On the inside of the arc, near the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the brilliant sunset over the Gulf, are tables for two and four, mostly empty. On the outside of the arc against the dark wood paneling of the back wall are deep booths. All the tables are covered with fine linens, silverware and china. Our hostess continues in front of us as I reach around behind you and under your skirt with one hand. You smirk as my fingers play lightly across the curve of your naked ass, but choose not to draw more attention to yourself by scolding me or struggling. As we pass each table the eyes of the other guests are all on you, not the sunset. Your skin is still glistening, partly from the colors of the orange and red light of the western sky, and partly from the flush of excitement from our elevator escapade with the doorman. It looks as though Jessica is leading us to a service corridor, past a thick column at the very end of the row of booths and tables. You are briefly concerned that we might not have a very good table, and wonder whether a booth would be better as Jessica disappears behind that pillar, completely out of sight from the rest of the room. As you round the corner you see why I have this table especially reserved. The paneled and draped column—certainly one of the main supports of the impressive building—creates a private space at the end of the hallway that can't be seen by the rest of the diners. As our hostess checks to make sure we are satisfied with our choice I pull out the chair backing to the pillar and offer you a seat. I assure the hostess that everything is perfect as you sit and I move my own chair from opposite yours to the side of the table next to you. After our host leaves us I lean over to kiss you, my hands on both sides of your face, pulling you against my lips, teasing your mouth with my tongue. We break the kiss when our waiter approaches, conscientiously clearing his throat to warn us before he turns the corner. Our tall, handsome waiter, with classic chiseled features and a bodybuilder's strong frame, introduces himself as Rocco. With a trace of Italian accent he starts to explain the evening specials. I stop him, explaining that I've already arranged our meal with the chef, from the wine to the appetizer and through the dessert. I'm a little concerned because I thought this should have been taken care of as well. He explains that the regular waiter for this table, Marcus, had a family emergency and couldn't make it this evening. Apologizing, he asks if we want another waiter instead. I look him up and down...then look over at you. The lust in your eyes should be enough to convince me, but I have to make sure that our waiter won't upset our plans. I trust the chef and Marcus, but it seems as though our handsome servant has not been fully informed. Without a word I reach over to you and pull the nearest strap of your satin dress off your shoulder, exposing your breast and causing you to quietly gasp and blush. I check Rocco's reaction as I roll your erect nipple between my thumb and finger, pulling and twisting slightly. You gasp again, louder this time. I explain that you are a woman of many passions and hungers and ask suggestively if he will have any problems helping me fulfill those hungers tonight. He stumbles a bit to find the right words, but assures us both that it will be his extreme pleasure to be of assistance in any way possible. I discreetly hand him three fifty dollar bills and ask him to make sure that all his tables except ours are covered by other staff this evening, since we'll be requiring his full attention. The sommelier appears around the corner with the first bottle of wine for the evening, and I leave your breast exposed as I go through the tasting ceremony. This man is older than us. I'm sure his presentation is normally more serious and distinguished, but the sight of your chest seems to have him distracted. Rocco excuses himself to make arrangements with the other waiters and check on our evening's plans with the chef. By the time the sommelier pours your taste of wine into your glass, he is trembling, unable to look away. I decide to tease him and dip my finger into your glass of chilled white wine, then tracing it down your neck from under your ear to the tip of your pert breast. As I lean toward you I explain to him that each wine we select for the evening must taste as good on your skin as it does in the glass. I lick and nibble my way down the trail of cool liquid, savoring the dry flavor of the Riesling on your salty skin, and taking an extra moment to make sure that I pay proper attention to your sensitive nipple. A bead of nervous perspiration is on his forehead as I finally lift my head and pronounce the wine satisfactory. He bows and excuses himself, backing out of our alcove to make sure he gets as long a look as possible. He doesn't turn to finally leave until I pull up the strap on your dress and cover your lovely breast. We drink our wine and gaze out across the darkening Gulf, holding hands and imagining the pleasures that await. I can't resist kissing you again, passionately tasting your mouth and running my strong hands up your inner thighs from your knees, toward the hem of your short dress. Rocco politely clears he throat again as he approaches, but this time I don't bother stopping as he turns the corner pushing a service cart covered with a white cloth. My lips are still pressed hard against yours as I spread your legs with my hands, drawing the hem of your skirt dangerously high, risking exposure of your pussy, still wet and flavored with another man's cum. I draw back and you hungrily lean into me, prolonging the connection of our lips as long as you can. I look down and you are still covered by the black satin fabric, barely. Good. I want to extend the tease. I ask Rocco if everything has been prepared. He answers in the affirmative, and produces four long strips of black silk scarf from beneath the cloth covering the cart, reaching out to hand them to me. I keep my hands firmly on your quivering thighs and ask him to do the honors, ankles first. He kneels next to you and wraps a length of soft silk around your ankle and then around the leg of the chair. He is tying you too loosely, I explain, and instruct him how to make sure you are firmly, yet comfortably bound to the heavy wooden dining chair. For the other leg he has to lean across you, which he tries to do without touching you, but that won't do so I push him down so his strong chest and rippled abdomen presses against your thighs. You can feel his heart beating hard in his chest as he secures your other ankle to the chair. As he shifts behind you I assist him by positioning your arms behind the back of the chair. He takes your delicate wrists firmly and binds them together with the strong supple cloth. You test your bonds, thrilling at the feeling of being powerless and at our mercy...your own excitement rising as you wonder what I have planned. I ask you to close your eyes as I take the last length of silk from our waiter. You feel the tingle of the cloth on your cheeks as I fashion a blindfold of the scarf and tie it behind your head. I am whispering, but not to you. Instead I am asking Rocco if he is familiar with the term "hotwife." He admits he is not, and I explain in hushed tones that it describes a woman so full of passion and adventure that no one man can fully quench her desires. She longs for the lust and passion of many men, to fill her life with the kind of sexual exploration that most women only dream about. With your hands and legs bound firmly and your eyes covered so that no light can enter, your other senses are heightened. You are completely aware of your own body now, perched on this heavy chair in a public, though secluded space. You feel my breath on your face as I whisper softly to you. Before we satisfy your sexual hunger I explain (a thrill runs through you as you notice the use of the word "we"), we're going to satisfy your physical hunger. Rocco uncovers the serving cart to reveal a startling diversity of small plates, each one with a carefully prepared delicacy. Each gourmet selection was carefully labeled with an ornate gold bordered card explaining the delight it contained and its intended order in the carefully orchestrated symphony of flavors, textures and scents. Interspersed with the plates are glasses of wine, sequenced both to refresh and enhance the flavors of the foods. It starts with light and subtle flavors. I whisper the name of each delicacy to you as I hold it for you to savor its scent, and then ask you to open your mouth as I place the tasty treats on your inquisitive tongue. Thinly sliced exotic fruits, white wines from sweet to dry, relishes of perfectly sautéed vegetables, and pates on crispy breads. As the cascade of savory delights continues the flavors intensify. Paper-thin meats and delicate fish and seafood, both raw and cooked, red wines from light and fruity to deep and complex, rich sauces and deep intense tropical spices, unique curries. Each flavor leads to the next, each scent blends and builds. The final morsels are a dark red caviar and a fine black caviar, one after the other. I carefully smear a small amount of the salty roe on your lips and then press them into your hungry mouth with my tongue, playing with the briny taste as we both excite in the pure hedonism of a perfectly composed, deliciously complex concerto of flavors. By the time we have finished our meal we are both panting and quivering, the sensual intensity of the gourmet delights nearly overwhelming us. I ask Rocco to inform the chef of our deepest gratitude. As he wheels the cart away you breathlessly ask me if we are done yet. I don't reply, instead I slide behind you and untie your hands, guiding you to put your arms up in a position of surrender. I grip the hem of your dress at the sides and before you can realize what I have done I peel the thin layer of black satin up and off your body. Now you sit, naked except for your high heeled shoes, tied at the ankles to a heavy dining chair, and blindfolded. I guide your arms back straight down to your sides, and you keep them there trembling with anticipation. You feel me at your feet, slipping off your shoes and pushing them aside. I start to untie the silks around your ankles and when done, ask you sto stand. You hear Rocco's breathing next to you, and feel his excitement in the air. With my hand on your elbow I turn you around so that your back is to the table. Whispering that you should trust me, trust us, I place one hand behind your shoulder and the other behind your knee. Rocco has moved to your other side and does the same. In an instant you are lifted effortlessly by the four strong hands up over the surface of the table, and laid on your back on the cool white linen tablecloth. Your head is a few inches from one end of the table for two, and you can feel the other edge of the table beneath your perfect ass. Rocco and I position chairs and spread your legs, positioning your feet and legs wide apart, but comfortably supported by the chairs. I reach between your legs and spread your delicious pussy open to Rocco's heated gaze, flicking your clit and sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. You feel thoroughly exposed and vulnerable, your heart racing with erotic anticipation. I ask Rocco to prepare the dessert. He excuses himself and in the few moments we are alone, I relish the reflection of your squirming naked form in the windows overlooking the glittering moonlit Gulf as I continue to tease your sensitive clit. Rocco coughed quietly as he emerged from behind the pillar with the dessert cart. The way we have arranged you on the table your open pussy is directly exposed to the viewer as soon as they come into view of our secluded table. Having placed you in this position, it is no surprise to Rocco, but the look of astonishment on Jessica's face and in the eyes of the chef as they follow behind our waiter is priceless. I continue to flick your little nub with my thumb as I introduce you to our chef and reintroduce your to our hostess. She seems particularly fascinated by the trickle of her boyfriend's cum that is still leaking from your wet opening. Rocco is setting up the cart with four small double boilers and plates of fruits, cakes and sweet creams. The chef, in a deep voice with a thick French accent, asks the hostess and waiter to prepare the "platter" while he serves the dessert. I can't help but smirk as the busty young brunette kneels between your legs...you have no idea what the chef means, even after you feel her tender lips on the inside of your thighs and twitch in response. You react by reaching toward the head between your legs, but Rocco intercepts your hands and holds them together firmly above your head. He brushes your outstretched fingers gently against the growing bulge in his tight pants. You try to stretch toward him but he prevents you from reaching. I step back as Jessica raises her hands to spread your vulva and ass cheeks, and hungrily plunges her tongue deep into your tight ass to lick out the drop of her boyfriend's jism that had dripped there. Your moan of delight turns into a gasp of surprise as the first drizzle of warm chocolate sauce is expertly spooned onto your naked breast by our chef. He traces intricate patterns of dark chocolate across your chest, neck and shoulders, then dips into two of the other double boilers to cover you with overlapping patterns of milk and white chocolate. As he turns your body into a work of chocolate art, Jessica has replaced her tongue in your clenching ass with her finger, impishly wiggling it to make you squirm in pleasure and drawing stern admonitions from our chef, who doesn't want his dessert "platter" moving too much during the careful preparations. When he has finished making his pattern of curlicues and arcs across the soft skin of your chest and stomach, he signals the hostess that she can continue. Jessica pulls her finger out of your backside and spreads your pussy. You've never felt the lips of another woman down there before, but as her tongue flutters across you with such tenderness and familiarity, you wonder why you've waited so long. Her touch is nothing like a man's, yet it is intensely intimate, informed from expertise that comes from knowing exactly how it feels to do the things she does, and doing it with passion. Her dainty fingers reach deeper inside you, and tease out the last of her boyfriend's juices. The chef is placing tufts of whipped cream and thick sugary sauces across your naked form, and making a pattern of cakes and fruits over the top of the whole delicious confection. He steps back when he is done and calls for a camera. Even through the blindfold you can see the flash, over and over again. By the last flash Jessica's lips are pursing around your clit in sync to the bursts of light, and it nearly pushes you over the edge. As the chef takes the last photo of your naked body, adorned in our evening's dessert, Jessica leans back and licks her lips, smiling up at me as she wipes your nectar from her mouth with one finger. She stands and offers me her fingers. I take them hungrily and she moans as I carefully suck them. Encouraged by her response I move her tasty hands closer to her face, and lick my way from her fingertip, to her palm, and up to her chin. In another instant I am tasting your flavor on her cheeks, on her plump, bee-stung lips, and finally on her tongue. I pull her close as I devour her mouth...the same mouth that had so recently been pressed between your legs...and press my hard cock against her round belly. She is delightfully curvy. I feel my own knees weakening, drawing me down to take a fresh taste of her own sweet honey. If the sommelier hadn't arrived at that moment with a bottle of champagne, I would have been on my knees in front of her, lifting her skirt. Instead, I watch with bemusement as the older gentleman drinks in the delicious sight before him on the table. His face reddens and he licks his lips in barely contained desire as he gazes upon your trembling form. Jessica slides away from me and moves aside as the older man steps toward you, absently preparing to uncork the bubbly while maintaining an unbroken stare on the treasure between your legs. He eases the cork out of the bottle without spilling and pours two flutes of the fine champagne. He hands me one and I hold it above my head, toasting the most delicious dessert I have ever beheld. The waiter, hostess and sommelier all applaud quietly as the chef bows his head in humble appreciation. I drain the flute and set it on the cart. Unbuttoning my shirt, I explain that I don't want to get my clothes messy while I eat my dessert. I see your pussy twitch in anticipation when I say this. The chef steps up to the serving cart and explains the four double boilers. Three contain the dark, milk and white chocolates that I have already watched him apply to your naked body. The fourth, he tells me, lifting the lid and letting the warm strawberry smell escape, is a special warm oil of his own invention. Fully edible and very slippery, he created it for circumstances where sticky chocolate is less desirable. Of course there is also a significant amount of fine whipped cream remaining. Rocco releases your wrists as I remove my shirt and start to unbuckle my belt. The chef and the waiter step away and wish me bon appétit. I look around at the four and ask them to wait. The dessert is the most wonderful I have ever seen, I explain, but it is a treat that would be best if shared with friends. I ask them if they are hungry and would like to join me for dessert. Their reactions are immediate and wordless. Rocco's black pullover shirt is on the floor before I finish my question, exposing his strong, tan hairless chest and rippling muscles of his taut abdomen. The chef's white uniform coat is off almost as quickly, but he places the coat over the back of the chair so that the embroidered stitching that reads "Emmanuel Delcour, Chef de Cuisine" is clearly visible. His own bare chest is nearly as well-defined as Rocco's, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail over the strong muscles of his broad shoulders. The sommelier is having a harder time stripping out of his tie and jacket, his fingers are nervous, trembling. Jessica removes her pullover blouse and bra, letting her large heavy breasts swing free, then takes pity on the poor wine steward, kneeling in front of him to help him with his clothes. At first he tries to help, but their fingers tangle and the young woman decides that the older man will be of more assistance if he stays out of the way. She guides his hands to her naked breasts and while he blissfully fondles them she helps him out of the rest of his clothes. By the time she pushes his boxers to the floor, Rocco, the chef and I are all naked, all throbbing with excitement, stroking our hard cocks in anticipation of the coming feast. You sense us circling around your quivering naked body; feel our heat as we take positions at your sides. The chef is at your right breast, I am at your left. Rocco stands next to the chef, looking down hungrily at your stomach, covered with chocolate, cream, cake and fruit. The sommelier takes the position next to me, tugging on his semi-hard cock. He's shaking more than you are, and not fully erect. Jessica slips out of her black wrap skirt and lacy panties. There's no more room at the feast since your body is surrounded by four hungry me so I offer her my spot. She giggles and says she's on a diet...a champagne and strawberry diet...as she takes up the flute of bubbly and a bowl of strawberries and kneels between your legs. Illicit Liaison Ch. 04 I give the signal and all four men crouch beside your squirming form, consuming the delicate flavors of the elaborate dessert from your sensitive, salty flesh. Four men's tongues simultaneously licking and nibbling your breasts and stomach, four masculine chins, lightly-stubbled, tickling your sensitive skin, and one delicate female touch between your legs, pushing large, ripe strawberries deep inside your hungry sex. As we hungrily devour the feast that you are, I pick up a whipped-cream covered strawberry from the hollow at the base of your neck between my teeth. The chef is sucking hard on your breast; the sommelier licking half melted chocolate from your heaving belly; the waiter is dribbling champagne on your mons venus, where it trickles down across the thick sensitive lips of your swollen pussy, and where the hostess gently laps it up, paying special attention to your clit. I lean over and share my strawberry with you, pushing the berry and the whipped cream and the chocolate all into your waiting, gasping mouth with my lips and tongue. Jessica's finger pushes up inside you and presses against your g-spot as her lips cradle your throbbing button. The champagne puddles up around you and the sensation of all the mouths, all the devoted attention, drives you over the edge. You stiffen, raise your knees as you buck and heave, gasping and moaning loudly, repeatedly, passionately. You collapse in a dreamlike whirling spin of dizzy afterglow, draped across the table like a doll, limp and slick with your excitement. Jessica backs off, blowing gently on your clit, careful not to push too far. Your four devoted men gently complete the task of finishing the dessert, licking and nibbling each morsel of fruit from your body, each stray droplet of chocolate, each crumb of cake, and every last dribble of whipped cream. As you come back to join us in our reality you feel us moving around you again. A large strong hand rests on your forehead and slowly pushes the blindfold up off your eyes and onto the floor beneath you. You blink up, your eyes blear at first. You feel them before your really see them. Two large thick cocks, veiny and wet with clear, glistening droplets of passion, are pressing against on your cheeks. You reach up to grasp them, rubbing the shiny heads together and sliding your tongue between them, tasting the salty mixture of the two men's fluids. I move to take a position between your legs, but our hostess intercepts me and whispers in my ear that I should be a good host and let you enjoy the attentions of other men. She reaches between my legs and rolls my balls between her fingers, adding that I get the privilege of your sexy body all the time. It's hard to disagree with her reasoning, and with her gentle touch. The wine steward takes a position between your legs instead, having worked his long thin cock to full hardness. He has a large, prominent mushroom shaped head at the end of his skinny took, and as he presses the tip against your wet pussy, you try to slide down and engulf him. Rocco and the chef won't let you slide away from them though. Emmanuel pulls back and takes your head in his strong hands, guiding your open mouth onto Rocco's thick, hard dick. You look up into our waiter's eyes as you swallow his smooth shaft. Rocco positions himself directly over your head so that he can fuck your mouth, and I can see the tip of his cock appearing as a bulge in your throat as he pumps in and out. Jessica has opened the container of warm strawberry oil and is stroking the sommelier's hard-on, working the thick oil into his skin from the fat tip to the thin, stiff base. His eyes flutter as he tries to keep his climax at bay under her delicate touch. She positions his oversized cockhead at your tight back entrance, and in a hissing whisper, tells the older man to fuck you in the ass. He leans forward, forcing his wide weapon into your too tight hole. You'd cry out from the sting except that Rocco's cock is in your throat, suppressing your exclaim. The pain is sharp and burning, but as soon as it becomes too much it is over, and with a smooth, long thrust his well-lubricated member is firmly and deeply inside you, pain turning to pleasure, reluctance to desire. You raise your legs to take his quick jabbing thrusts as deeply as you can. I take one leg and the curvy, naked brunette takes the other. We both raise your feet to our lips and suck on your dainty toes as the waiter and the wine steward coordinate their movements, filling you from both ends then sliding slowly out. The burning wave of your second orgasm starts to fill your belly. You reach up behind your head and open your throat to take the waiter's handsome cock as far as you can while you start to quiver. It's more than the young man can take and you can feel his hot cum sliding down into your belly, his fire meeting yours and exploding in a starry, tingling, bucking peak of lust. Rocco's balls slap against your nose and forehead, then clench and tighten as he empties into you. You push him back so that you can taste his cum before you swallow it all, and he fills your mouth with a hot, sticky-sweet mixture, squirting his last jet down your chin and onto your neck and chest as you swallow the rest with a wicked grin. You wrestle your toes free of our mouths and wrap them around the sommelier's back, pulling him deeper into your ass. As he watches the cum dribble down your breast, he loses control and emties his own seed into you. You can feel his plum-sized cockhead shrink as he withdraws. Rocco leaves his softening cock draped across your face, and you playfully lick and nibble his foreskin as it covers the tip, still dribbling cream. The sommelier backs away, and the chef quickly moves between your legs, positioning the end of his magnificent shaft at the entrance to your pussy. It's bigger and more sculpted than the doorman's cock, and he eases it into ever so slowly. You wrap your legs around his firm ass and try to draw him in, burning to feel him bury himself to the hilt, but he is too strong and determined, and stops his gradual penetration until you stop trying to rush him. I move up to your head, where Rocco is lazily guiding his flaccid cock penis across your face. The chef is still less than halfway into you, and you look up at me with greedy lust in your eyes. You start to whisper something I can't hear, and when I bend down to listen, you grab my head and pull my lips down to yours, where the waiter's cock now lays. Our mouths wrap around the smooth cool skin of his shaft, our tongues play over him as we kiss each other. You let go of my head and as I rise, you grab the base of my hard member and pull me toward your face. In your other hand you have the waiter's uncircumcised member, and you press the tips of both of us together with an evil grin. I know what you want, and I slide my own hand to the tip of the waiter's cock as you position my head at the wrinkled opening of his foreskin. His sheath envelopes my head, my precum lubricating the snug opening and creating a delicious sliding sensation as our heads meet. You lean forward and take the juncture of our manhood into your mouth. I look down to see that the chef has finally sunk his long hard member completely inside you. After an agonizingly slow penetration he switches abruptly to long, hard deep thrusts, pounding your tender pussy with his thick meat, heavy balls slapping wetly against your still gaping asshole. He takes your spread legs in his strong hands and draws them together between the two of you, until your knees touch and your ankles cross, tightening you even more so that you can feel every vein and ridge on his sculpted member. Holding your feet together he guides both of your big toes into his mouth at once, and feasts on your dainty feet while he pounds you with even more determined thrusts. Rocco and I each reach down and take an erect nipple in our fingers, pulling and pinching. Jessica stands between us at your head, and leans over to kiss our docked cocks, pressing us further into your open mouth. The combination of erotic attentions across your entire body is overwhelming, and your orgasm comes out as a scream of passion unlike any I have heard. Your body arches and tenses...not bucking, not quivering, just perfectly taut and still like an unplucked guitar string and you continue to wail in passionate climax. The display sends me over the edge, and I explode in a long overdue eruption inside the waiter's foreskin, my juices splurting out in all directions, across your face, onto the hostess's lips, and back onto my shaft. The chef drives himself deep inside and grinds his own cum into your hot, hungry core. You feel the tip of his cock flick against the hard smooth dome of your cervix, and finally collapse beneath him, beneath us all, completely and utterly spent, and limp, draped open and glazed with a mixture of your sweat and out cum across the dining table. As the chef withdraws his cock and wipes the last of his gourmet jism onto your pussy lips, as Jessica undocks our cocks and slides her tongue under the waiter's foreskin to slurp out my cum, and as I feed the tip of my own still-hard, slippery cock into your slack open mouth, we are suddenly reminded of the fact that we are in a public place, as a polite round of applause erupts from the crowd of restaurant patrons that had quietly encircled us while we played.