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The Cocktail

By: spankymcf



1.

"Of course it will be a fabulous party. I'll be throwing it."

Tommy McFarlane could hear his mother talking on the phone in the kitchen. She had been on the phone all afternoon calling and telling her various friends about a cocktail party she was planning. It was all she had been talking about all week. Tommy was sitting on the floor before the TV in the living room of the McFarlane home, trying to play a video game on his Xbox, but couldn't help being distracted by overhearing his mother's conversation.

"You're just going to have to come. It will be the social event of the year. I know everyone will be talking about it." 

Standing in the kitchen, Darlene McFarlane hung up the phone. At 41, Darlene was a very beautiful woman and quite aware of it. Her 5'7" figure was well toned and voluptuous, with long lean legs and full perfect 36C breasts that she had done for her birthday after her recent divorce. Her blonde highlighted hair, usually down to her shoulders, was done up in a high ponytail. Her green eyes flashed and her pouty lips smiled as she rubbed her hands together. At the moment, Darlene was wearing a tiny white cotton tank top with a pink bra underneath and her tight pink cotton sweat pants, her firm midriff showing. Her running shoes perfectly matched her sweat pants.

"This party is going to be a complete success, " Darlene beamed with pride. "We have over twenty guests confirmed."

Grandma was sitting in the corner. Close to 60 years old, she still maintained a joyful spirit, even when it came to indulging her daughter's constant efforts to be the most popular woman in the neighborhood. "Darlene, I really think you are going a little over the top with these party plans, dear."

"Nonsense," Darlene replied. "This party is going to be just perfect and I will see to that. And I'm going to have Tommy help."

Darlene walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where Tommy was still playing his video game. He did his best to ignore his mom when she walked into the room, but Darlene went straight to the TV and shut if off.

"Mom!" Tommy complained, "I was almost on Level Ten!"

Darlene stood directly in front of the TV. "Never mind that stupid game, Tommy. I have something more important to tell you. Now put that control down and listen."

Tommy reluctantly put his game controller down and looked up at Darlene standing before him. "What is it?"

Darlene gave Tommy a disapproving look. "It's about time you focus on something more socially relevant than those video games of yours. Mommy's going to be having a very important dinner party and you have to be there."

"Aw mom," Tommy groaned. "Why would I want to socialize with your friends at some dumb party?"

Darlene put her hands on her hips. "Now listen to me, young man. Someone obviously needs to work on their social skills."

"I knew you were throwing this party for a reason," Grandma chuckled from where she now stood in the kitchen doorway.

Darlene gave Grandma a withering look. "Very funny, mother," she replied sarcastically before returning her attention to Tommy. "You are going to be attending this party, but not as a guest." Tommy and Grandma both exchanged confused looks. Darlene could hardly contain her pleased satisfaction. "Tommy is going to be here to serve the guests when they arrive. I've even had a waiter's tuxedo made for him. He's going to look so cute."

Tommy groaned and lowered his head. Grandma looked at her grandson, sympathizing with his grief. She took a few steps into the room. "Darlene, what do you need Tommy for? Isn't that something you could do?"

"I'm the hostess of the party," Darlene said, dismissing the suggestion with a haughty gesture. "I certainly can't be the one serving them drinks and hors' dourves. That would be ridiculous."

"Tommy's only 18," Grandma kindly persisted. "He isn't even old enough to be around liquor."

Darlene laughed. "I said he would be serving the liquor, not drinking it, Mother. This party will go off without a hitch. And that is it. Now I have to go or I'll be late for my yoga class." Without waiting for a response, Darlene grabbed her keys and her purse from the foyer stand and left the house.

Tommy looked to his Grandma. "I don't want to wear some waiter suit and have to be at this dumb party."

Grandma gave Tommy a sympathetic smile. "I know, Tommy. But don't worry, I'll be here, too. Hopefully we can make the best of it."

2.

A few days later, Tommy was playing basketball in the McFarlane driveway with his friends. Or rather Jake, Nick, and Darin were playing while Tommy did his best to keep up. Tommy had always been small for his age, while the other boys were becoming more athletic.

Tommy was awkwardly dribbling the basketball while going under the hoop. Jake easily slapped the basketball into his control, pushing past Tommy and shooting a perfect layup. 

"Boo-ya! We win!" Jake shouted while he and Nick high-fived. "Another game?" Nick taunted Tommy and Darin. "I wanna switch teammates!" Darin scowled at Tommy.

"Maybe we can play HORSE?" Tommy suggested. The other boys laughed and even though he wasn't sure why, Tommy joined in.

The sound of a car horn startled the boys. Darlene drove into the driveway in her BMW Z3. The boys had to scurry out of the way as she pulled to a stop right in front of the basketball hoop.

Darlene got out of the car. She was wearing a very tight baby blue t-shirt and low rise jeans that hugged her figure, showing off her firm tan midriff. Her wedge heel sandals completed her outfit. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra by the way her full breasts strained against the thin cotton t-shirt, jiggling slightly as she walked around to the trunk of the car. Her blonde hair was held up by a matching baby blue scarf, her eyes hidden behind expensive black sunglasses.

Jake, Nick, and Darin all stared at Darlene as she used her keys to open the trunk of her car. Tommy noticed the way his friends were looking and smiling at each other. He cleared his throat. "Mom, we were playing basketball right there."

Darlene opened the trunk to reveal bags of groceries. She didn't even glance over at Tommy and his friends as she walked around to the passenger side of the car. "You don't have time to play anyway, sweetie. It's time to get ready for Mommy's party."

Jake, Nick, and Darin all chuckled at the way Darlene talked to Tommy as if he was a simple child. Tommy tried to reassert himself. "Aw, Mom, I don't want to have to be at the party."

"We've already discussed this, young man," Darlene snapped at Tommy. She reached into the car and took out a few bags from Bloomingdale's as well as a full garment bag. "You'll be at the party tonight and that's final." Jake grinned at Nick and Darin, then called out to Darlene. "Can we come to the party too, Ms. McFarlane?"

Darlene looked at the boys over her sunglasses. "If you help Tommy with the groceries, I might consider it." Without another glance at the boys, Darlene walked into the house.

Tommy nervously glanced at his friends. "You guys really don't want to go to this party..."

"Hey, anything for a pal," Jake smiled, clapping Tommy on the back. "C'mon fellas, let's help with the groceries." Nick and Darin followed Jake to the BMW and began removing the grocery bags from the trunk. Tommy hurried to help and led the boys up to the house.

Tommy and his friends walked into the kitchen where they found Darlene talking on her cell phone. "It's gorgeous. I found it at Bloomingdales. Very expensive, but so cute. Of course I'll be wearing it tonight." She only acknowledged the boys by waving them to put the groceries on the counter, then turning her back on them.

"Jeez, she can be a real bitch..." Darin muttered. "No kidding," Nick agreed. "How do you put up with her, Tommy?" Tommy was about to reply, but Jake spoke up. "Hey easy, guys. She's just used to getting her way. Anyone can see that."

Just as Jake was saying this, Darlene finished her phone conversation. She put her cell and sunglasses down on the kitchen table. Her sunglasses fell off the table. "Oh damnit!" Darlene exclaimed and leaned over to pick them up. As she did, all of the boys were able to see her a bit of her lacy white thong peek out from the back of her tight low rise jeans.

"Oh yeah, I can see that," Nick agreed. "Me too," Darin grinned.

Tommy found himself slightly embarrassed that his mother had no clue that his friends were leering at her right behind her back. "Um...mom?"

Darlene stood up and turned around to see Tommy's friends now smiling so nice and innocently at her. By the look on her face, she suddenly seemed to get an idea. "Thank you, boys. Do you still want to come to the party tonight?"

"Yeah...sure...and how!" Jake, Nick, and Darin all said.

Darlene spoke at them. "Then you all have to promise to be here by seven. I'm going to need your help for something special. And you have to be dressed in a collared shirt and slacks. Promise."

Jake, Nick, and Darin all said, "We promise."

Darlene smiled at them. "Ok, now you boys run along. Tommy has to put away the groceries and we have to get ready for tonight. I want all of you to be back here by when..?"

"Seven," Jake, Nick, and Darin all obediently replied.

"Right," Darlene ushered the boys to the front door while Tommy followed behind looking miserable. After the boys were gone, she closed the door behind them. Grandma was just coming down the stairs to see this.

"Darlene," Grandma said. "Just what are you up to now?"

Darlene walked up the stairs, smiling at Grandma as she passed her by. "Nothing for you to worry about, Mother. I have everything under control." Darlene kept going up the stairs and into her room.

Grandma looked down at Tommy still standing at the bottom of the stairs. "What's next?" Tommy sullenly asked.

3.

"Tommy, answer the door. Mommy's still getting ready!"

Tommy shook his head. It was half past seven in the McFarlane home. Now Tommy was wearing a white waiter's jacket, white starched shirt and black slacks. His posture was stiff and he pulled at the tight collar buttoned high around his neck. 

The house itself was tastefully lit and decorated. Classical music was playing in the background from an expensive stereo system. Plates and bowls with hors' dourves and catered food. The mini bar in the corner was stocked full with various bottles of liquor and champagne.

Tommy went to the front door and opened it. Jake, Nick, and Darin were standing there. All were dressed in nice shirts and slacks, but they broke out laughing as soon as they saw Tommy.

"Hello, Jeeves," Jake joked. "Nice monkey suit," Nick laughed. "What a dork," Darin added.

Tommy went beet red with embarrassment. "C'mon guys, cut it out. I didn't want to wear this. My mom's making me do it."

Jake shook his head. "Boy, she's really got you. Where is the queen of the castle, anyway?"

"You boys are late!" Darlene was standing at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a long white silk robe and her hair was up in a towel. She walked halfway down the stairs, stopping and glaring down at the boys. "You'll find your jackets in that closet behind you." 

Jake turned and opened the closet door in the foyer. Hanging inside were three matching white waiter's jackets. Jake, Nick, and Darin looked at each other, confused.

Darlene pointed to Nick. "You will be taking the guests jackets at the door." She chose Darin next. "You will be helping Tommy serving the hors' dourves. And you," she pointed at Jake, "will help serve drinks. Now put those jackets on. The guests will be here any minute." Darlene turned and went back up the stairs and to her room, shutting the door.

Nick and Darin looked to Jake, uncertain what to do. Tommy couldn't help but smile a little. "Looks like she got you guys, too."

Jake was still looking up at where Darlene had gone. He frowned, but then smiled at Nick and Darin. "Let's put on the jackets, fellas." He smiled at Tommy. "If she wants a party, we'll give her one."

4.

It was now half past eight at the McFarlane home. The party was underway, yet Darlene had not appeared from her bedroom. Most of the guests had arrived. They were mostly married men and women Darlene's age, enjoying a drink and having conversations. Nick was standing by the door, waiting for the next guest to arrive. Darin and Tommy were moving amongst the guests with trays of hors dourves. Jake was handing drinks to guests that Grandma was mixing behind the bar.

Grandma was wearing a modest wool dress. She noticed how unhappy the boys looked serving the guests. Jake, Nick, and Darin all looked awkward in their waiter's jackets that were a bit too small for them. Tommy, meanwhile was awkwardly doing his best to balance his tray while walking amongst the guests as he made his way over to the mini-bar.

"Careful, Tommy," Grandma said as he set his tray down. "Are you doing ok?"

Tommy wiped his brow. "I'm burning up in this suit, Grandma."

Jake shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably in the ill fitting jacket. "Yeah, me too. And this party is a real bore."

Grandma chuckled, smiling at the boys. "It seems my daughter really roped you boys into this one. Maybe you need a little treat." Grandma gave them a wink and poured two shots of vodka into two glasses of cranberry juice. She slid the glasses across the bar to Tommy and Jake. "Our secret."

"Hello everyone!" Darlene appeared at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a tight white cashmere button-up sweater. The material was light and clinging, the faint outline of her black bra showing through, the top two buttons undone to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. Her black satin miniskirt with a side slit showed off her lean legs in dark silk nylons and her strappy black heels. Her blonde hair hung down to her shoulders. Her green eyes were enhanced by her sultry black mascara, her pouty lips glossed a sensual dark red. Darlene walked down the stairs to greet her party guests. She was so obviously adoring the attention of her grand entrance.

Grandma noticed how Jake was staring at Darlene. She leaned forward to confidently speak to he and Tommy. "I think it's up to you boys to make sure the party is a success." She gave them a wink and poured them each an extra shot of vodka. Jake grinned and drank it down in a gulp. Tommy drank his too, coughing as the alcohol burned his throat.

Jake laughed and clapped Tommy on the back, almost making him drop his tray. "C'mon, Jeeves, let's make like real butlers." The two boys made their way through the party.

Grandma smiled and had herself a quick nip from the bottle.

The party continued on. Darlene spent the entire time acting as the perfect hostess. She made sure she was always the center of attention, circulating through the house, having a cocktail and enjoying the attention she was generating. She flirted with most of the men at the party, often times standing very close to them or letting them keep their arm around her while they talked.

Darin had joined Jake and Nick in serving hors' dourves to the guests. The thrill of seeing Darlene dressed so alluringly was beginning to wane since she was completely ignoring them. And if she did speak to them, it was to order them around as if they were mere servants and she was royalty.

"The pretzel bowl needs a refilling," she instructed Darin. She turned to Nick. "And we need more patte with the brie." Darlene handed her empty glass to Jake who was standing by. "I would like another vodka stinger." She gave the glass to Jake, halfway turning away from him.

Jake glanced at Darlene's cleavage. With the top two buttons of her thin white cashmere sweater undone, Jake could partially see the black lace of Darlene's bra. He found himself staring until Darlene snapped her fingers at him. "You need to pay more attention to your duties, young man. Hurry off to the bar now." Darlene returned her attention to the guests she was talking to. "Good help is so hard to find."

Jake glowered at Darlene's attempt to embarrass him, but did what he was told. He made his way through the guests and over to the mini-bar where Grandma still stood. She smiled playfully at him. "Having fun, yet?"

"Yeah, right," Jake grumbled.

Nick and Darin joined Jake at the bar. They both looked unhappy. "Let's get outta here," Nick said. "Yeah, this blows," complained Darin.

Darlene called out from the center of the room. "Mother, have the boys break out the bottles of champagne. We're going to make a toast."

Grandma smiled at them from behind the bar. "Maybe you boys should stick around just a little bit more. I think the party is just about to get interesting." She put the bottles of champagne on the bar, then indicated over to where Tommy was balancing a tray of hors' dourves. He was weaving a bit and appeared slightly drunk.

Jake looked at Grandma. "Did you..?"

Grandma winked at the boys, "I did."

"We're waiting for the champagne!" Darlene called again from the center of the room, her voice trilling with impatience.

Grandma handed the sealed bottles of champagne to the boys. "Better get over there, boys." Jake, Nick, and Darin each took a bottle and turned to walk over to where Darlene stood surrounded by her guests.

Tommy was making his way through the guests, wobbling and weaving. The last drink Grandma gave him had been very strong. He was feeling a little dizzy and drunk., barely able to balance the tray in his hands. He began to approach where Darlene stood with her guests. 

"Well, I know everyone is having a wonderful time, " Darlene proudly announced to the guests that stood around her. "I think I'd like to make a toast to the party." Darlene looked to Jake, Nick, and Darin who were standing nearby, each holding a bottle of champagne. "What are you waiting for? Open the bottles!"

As the boys started trying to uncork the champagne, Tommy stumbled over to where Darlene stood. He suddenly tripped, the tray of hors' dourves flying through the air as he fell to the floor. Some patte landed right on Darlene's white cashmere sweater near her neckline.

Darlene squealed with repulsion, looking down at the stain on her sweater. "Oh my God! Tommy, you clumsy idiot! You've ruined my sweater!"

Tommy staggered to his feet. "I'm sorry, Mom." He drunkenly dabbed a napkin into a glass of wine a guest was holding then turned and rubbed it onto the stain on Darlene's sweater, only succeeding in smearing it more.

"What are you doing?" Darlene shrieked. "Stop it!" Jake, Nick, and Darin started laughing and even some of the guests were beginning to chuckle at the calamity. Tommy's hands nervously fluttered around Darlene's cleavage, accidentally opening another button on the sweater and revealing more of her black lacy bra. Darlene pushed his hands away. "Stop it! Just pick up the food from the floor!"

Grandma came to the rescue by pulling over the vacuum cleaner. She put the nozzle in Tommy's hands. "Here, Tommy. Take this for Grandma." Tommy accepted the vacuum nozzle from Grandma and she took the cord to the closest socket. As Grandma leaned over to plug the cord in, she noticed that Tommy was absentmindedly pointing the nozzle right at Darlene's sweater. With a smile, Grandma plugged in the cord.

Darlene was looking the other way and telling anyone that was listening. "This sweater is ruined!" At that moment, the vacuum turned on. Darlene's sweater was pulled open, exposing her lacy black bra to everyone in the room. Before she could even react, the thin cashmere sweater was torn off her and disappeared down the vacuum nozzle.

"Turn it off!" Darlene screamed. She slapped at Tommy while more of the guests began laughing. Tommy tried to turn away from Darlene and fell to the floor again. The nozzle lowered down, aimed right at Darlene's black satin miniskirt. The slit in the side began to tear right along the seam and in an instant, the skirt was ripped right off Darlene's body. Darlene gasped in shock as she was left standing before the guests in just her black lacy bra, a tiny black lace thong, black lace topped thigh high stockings, and her strappy black heels. Tommy lay at Darlene's feet, looking up at her with surprise. The guests began laughing and whistling at Darlene, who was frozen with embarrassment, looking down at herself.


The Cocktail Date



The man finishes my shoe shine as I watch the arrival board to the left. I like him. He is a young, muscular black man, who gives the appearance of being the most leisurely person on earth. He does not do anything that looks like work. He gives a few offhand licks with the brush, and the cloth, effortless. He turns between each action with his hands to scan the esplanade for girls, and give them a look. I don't even try to compete, this is his territory. But when he is done, my boots are shiny, better than she gets them, even if she gets a studious look and works hard.

She is about five minutes late. She can't help it of course, and I know that. Knew it when I wrote the schedule for her. I want her scared and anxious. I've set her up to fail because I know it will get her off balance. The Commuter Rail Service is southbound against the City's rush hour and I know from experience the nearly empty Southbound commuter trains are given lowest priority on the CSX right of way. 

She could have taken the mass transit, the subway lines. They run to the same boarding point where I'd instructed her to leave her car. But I wanted her to take the regular passenger train. I did not want her crammed like a sardine into a car full of people I wanted her relaxing in the low light of the "quiet car," with easy access to a restroom. 

The commuter rail also allows passengers to bring drinks on board. I'd told her to pack an airline bottle of vodka, and a mixer in a clear soda bottle. She would step inside the lavatory, mix it, throw the bottle away, then put her "public" collar on. She would also take off her panties and throw them away. She'd had the card since this morning with my instructions so I presumed she'd pick some panties she didn't like very much. 

I'd stirred myself from the bar when the digital board showed her train arriving. I always loved the station. I focused on that to relax a little. Even after a drink there was a knot of tension knotted in my gut that wouldn't be gone until the night's scene was played through to conclusion. I had nerves and no amount of drinking was going to fix that. There was a chance that she'd hate me, even feel betrayed by me, after tonight. That would be the worst, was hard to take. 

I took a deep breath and focused on the scenery around me. The station was built in a classical-nouveau style just after the turn of the century. It was about the same age as my house, but the plumbing worked better. In the 70s they had turned the place into an upscale shopping mall, and there were marble walkways and brass railings a flight above the main floor where you could have coffee, or walk and look down. 

I watched for her to come through the main hallway. I could pick her out of a crowd in a moment. There were other girls that looked a little like her; young, petite, brunette. But when she was in her collar, she had a walk and seemed highlighted to me, with a bit of a glow. She was carrying a small clutch purse big enough for the airline bottle, her phone, and two twenty dollar bills rolled up in case of an emergency. I liked her to be safe, and sometimes I even let her know that.  

It was a chain, heavier than most jewelry but within the range that was acceptable for a modernesque fashion. It was fastened by the tiniest lock I had ever seen, small but functional. She was entrusted with the key to both of her collars, a trust she had never violated.

I held a dark morocco folder. It was one of five I owned, all slightly different. Three were locked in an antique desk of polished wood, and seldom perused, except when I wished to draw lessons from the past. Or to remember. There were initials on the cover, and they were hers, her true name. It contained a synthesis of all I knew about her, and designated her as one of the special ones, so maybe that was why light seemed to attach to her when I watched her walk from a distance. I always felt a strange surge of pleasure a mixture of pride and ownership in the first sight of her, especially when I could observer her like this, not knowing that she was being watched. 

It wouldn't be a disaster if I couldn't get a connection but my cell phone showed a signal, and it rang through. Good timing.

She almost fucked up. She started to keep walking. But I saw her catch herself and stop dead. She stepped slightly out of the line of traffic and answered the phone.

"Hello." 

She used to second guess me by answering my number "Yes Sir," but eventually she'd had to explain that to her mother when she made a mistake. Her mother did not know about me. Her mother did not know about a lot of things her baby daughter did in the heat of the night. I knew this because I could make her wet by reminding her of the fact. I'd fucked her at their house once when her mother did not even know I was there. I'd had to shove the side of my hand in her mouth to stop her screaming when she came, and she'd left bite marks so deep they broke the skin. 

I took one breath to steady my voice. Wouldn't do to let her hear me sound excited, even if I was. "Good Evening." My voice came out slow and steady. Good. 

"Is there anything Sir requires of me."

"Yes. You have a change from your default plans. In your purse you have three dollars in change from your on board ticket purchase."

"Sir is correct."

"I want you to fumble in your purse right now and drop one of those dollars to your left. Then I want you to turn and bend over and pick it up. You will do this the way you have been shown."

Her posture training did not allow her to bend her knee. To retrieve an object she'd dropped, she'd be expected to bend from the hips and reaching out her fingers to the ground. There was only one time when she was allowed to be on her knees.

I watched to see if she shook her head as she put her ass up in the air. She was good. A month ago she'd have given a little ironic shrug. Of course by now common sense told her that I was watching her. She wasn't allowed to look up to see where. She wasn't stupid. She was anything but stupid.

I loved this part of the evening. The big stuff was still far enough off I had some breathing room. These were the easy points, the freebies, the ones that started her on the roller-coaster ride and that were pretty much foolproof. I already knew what her responses would be like, could feel them even at a distance, from familiarity, could savor them without having to worry very much. 

"Good" I said. "Now I want you to go to the lockers. They are coded so you don't need a key. You will be going to Locker 78, and the four digit code would be the year the Hundred Days took place." The new lockers allowed you to key in any combination you liked, so I'd taken advantage to give her a little something to think about.

She would enter it correctly the first time. She was anything but stupid. It was a date she'd know in her sleep, or at very worst could calculate quickly. But it reminded her why I valued her, while giving no real chance of failure. 

She repeated the code back to me – "one eight one five." I couldn't quite see the locker area, but I wasn't worried. I had a few minutes while she dealt with what she would find there. 

If being without panties had made her feel vulnerable I was pretty sure that taking off her clothes in a stall, packing them in the small handbag I'd provided, and putting on a black women's coat with a thin blouse and nothing else would make it worse.

She phoned me when she had finished and was outside the bathroom. "Does Sir have any further instructions?" she asked. I could hear that she was breathing a little fast. 

"Join me at the Centre Café. You will arrive before me, so you will order my usual. You are having a Cosmopolitan, and we are having the Calamari. Ask for a table towards the back, you'll be happier that way." 

One of the features I adore about the station is the Centre Café. It stands in the very middle of a vast atrium at the front of the station, and is a raised dais two stories high which has a full bar and café. It's not particularly pricey, but is seldom crowded because people assume that it is. It can only be accessed by two steel staircases at the outside edge. I suppose it's in my nature to enjoy looking down. 

I could have walked there in half the time that it took her, but I wanted her to walk up those stairs alone, and be seated by the waiter. It was early fall and in fact she'd look no different than any other woman at the Station who was still wearing a shortish skirt and top, but a coat for the slight evening chill. But she would feel every single passerby staring up into her cunt, and that was what I wanted.

"Sir...may I have permission to speak freely?"

"Of course."

"Sir is a bastard."

"Yes..."

That was allowed. It was her one outlet. She knew I liked to hear it, as much as she liked to hear that she was a slut. 

I'd brought a couple of things to give her at dinner, but when I walked down the spiral staircase and made my way towards the front, I passed the Godiva Chocolate shop and had one of those momentary bits of malicious inspiration. I made an impulse purchase of one of the small four piece boxes. It was gold and tied with a neat little elastic string that came on and off quite easily.

Stopping at the railing outside the store, I opened the box and took the chocolates out, and rolled them up in a plastic bag that I was carrying for later. Then I slipped my gift for her inside to make it a surprise.

There were two stairways up. She'd managed to be seated next to one, so I actually was able to approach behind her and tap her on the shoulder. I smiled at sat with her. (typo here) We made a pretty couple. She was small and young but energetic, a pretty brunette. I was at least well dressed, and could pass for handsome. I was old enough to take her in hand, and not so old as to be mistaken for her father. When I was in Junior High, I looked younger than I was, and that made it hard on me, but the same looks that had been a curse then had served me well in adult life.

Seated in public she would not call me "sir" within anyone else's hearing, and any of the variety of pet names I had for her would be kept to within standards that the Motion Picture Board would find acceptable. "Plaything" was pushing the boundaries, but "My Little One" was not so bad. I had a lot of names for her, depending on how I felt at the moment. She answered to "slut" at all times, and I often called her by her given name, sometimes with exaggerated courtesy. "Miss C____." She was seventeen years younger than I was, and unlikely to marry anytime soon. We both knew that she would eventually, both knew that what she was learning from me would in some ways prepare her for that. I was not a dead end but a finishing school. She said she was in no hurry to move along. 

She'd already placed our order. She was apologetic. "I must apologize to Sir that this one is late," she said, in her most formal tone. 

I knew she was nervous about that. Being timely was one of the first things I had to teach her. She was very young, given to doing what she pleased when she pleased. Time was valuable to me, more precious than money. It was necessary that she learn that when she paid no attention to time, or planned poorly in regards to me, she deprived herself of our time together.

She hated the discipline at first. It was the first thing that had taken us beyond the bedroom, or dungeon. I was not out to reform her life. But with me, she would have discipline and I secretly suspected it would trickle down to other parts of her life with no poor effects. She suffered from lack of focus and I saw it hurt her daily. 

She had jealous lovers before. And that made her suspicious. Demands for time often became demands for attention and then a push to control her with others. Her previous relationship was with an immature boy who left her expecting the worst, and it was almost a breaking point with her – she had no idea of waiting around to be hurt, and nearly walked away without giving it a chance. But the days rolled by and I made no demands. The more she told me of her schedule the better I was able to give her what she wanted, but I never demanded, and never asked questions about her other lovers. I drew a strong line between what happened between us and the rest of her life, and refused to step across it. At times she wanted me to, but I knew she'd regret it. By the time I eased slightly she had learned what she really wanted.

At first she was secretive, eventually she wanted to talk to me about them, and finally she came to me for advice and counsel. The intimacy of that trust in me gave me more pleasure than anything I might have gotten from giving in to jealousy and making demands of her that weren't mine to make. What we had was delimited, and that gave her a safe place to be, and a light in her eyes when she was with me that gave me something I needed in return.

Which had led us to this night.

For now she was scared. She had violated a major rule. She had not been punctual. She was a little afraid and that meant she was excited. 

"Did you follow the transportation plans laid out in your card?"

"Yes sir" she looked even more concerned. I watched the faint movement of her throat as she swallowed. I kept my face impassive. What she was feeling was delicious to me and I wanted to draw it out.

"Were you late because of any act of neglect on your part. Is there anything you could have done to have arrived more timely?"

She looked worried. "She does not think so, sir, but it may be that there is something she is missing." 

Watching her struggle like this was in a way much like watching her take a flogging. There was a suffering and a focus I could see in the set of her jaw, and arch of her back. I was in no hurry to answer her. Her anxiousness was beautiful and I wanted to watch it for as long as I could. I waited a long time watching her breast rise and fall her mouth slightly open.

"I believe, little girl, that the Commuter Rail always runs a bit behind. It was taken into account. It pleases me however that you gave full attention to the matter." 

I watched her come down. "Little girl" was an endearment to her. She was little, though she was no girl but a woman. Her body fell a little and her breathing relaxed. She had changed much in a year. As much as I enjoyed watching her writhe, it was a catharsis to me to let her off the hook. I suppose maybe I felt good about myself, as I watched the relief flood into her. I had taken her away from every other concern in life. She was happy because I was not displeased. 

I chatted with her about her day, and the train ride. I looked into her face and she tried not to look at mine. Eye contact rules were always hardest on her. She was naturally social and curious and it was hard for her not to make contact. We talked about the upcoming season at the Folger, and a mutual friend who was an actor in New York.

"I brought you something" I said. "But it may cause you a bit of difficulty. It's something that goes inside your body."

She looked concerned. I passed her the gold Godiva box. She smiled and laughed at my little joke. In fact I never put chocolate up a woman's cunt. There are places that sugar has an odious effect and that is one of them. But she didn't know that or wasn't thinking of it. 

Then she opened it.

"It is most interesting...may I put it in my purse?" The waiter was nearby and she omitted the honorific.

I looked steadily into her eyes. "You may put it inside you. Now. I think it's clear which orifice it is meant to go into, but I can explain if you have any questions." I put a little of an edge into my tone. She had not been down for long and now the roller coaster was going up again. 

"I am not sure precisely how Sir intends me to manage this," she stammered, forgetting several of her rules.

I smiled. "I thought you might need some help." I slid a small glass phial across the table to her. It had a black top and said "Eros" I was pretty sure that there were cheaper lubricants but this one was very photogenic. Her eyes widened in a satisfying way.

"If I were you I would palm it off the edge of the table, and try to navigate it into my lap....then I'd slide it back between my cheeks, and push it into place with my fingertips, screwing my body down sitting on it, pretending to adjust my skirt. Of course the act might be more convincing if you were wearing a skirt, but I think you'll manage." She didn't really need the advice but to tell her what to do in this detail while she was still getting her bearings was just slightly degrading to her, and I knew that would raise her excitement. Every little bit helps.

She pursed her lips and sighed. The way she tried was the thing that made me love her the most. She slid the plug into her lap, and then without too many funny looks managed to get it through the front of her coat, between her legs, and slip her hand in, pushing it up. 

I kept up a stream of small talk, occasionally requiring her to answer. Eventually she made a half standing motion, sat back down, then repeated it. She finally settled back down. I've worked around stages and visual art for a long time. From my point of view I knew that diners on the centre platform were virtually invisible, since very few people looked up and if they did they were distracted by the statuary. However to her it must feel as if she were on a giant stage, with every single person staring up at her. 

"You will be happy to know that it is in place."

There was no-one else around.

"What is in place."

"Your anal plug, Sir..."

"Where is it?" I wanted to make her say it aloud.

"Your anal plug is in my ass sir."

"Good."

The Calamari came. Afterwards I gave her another small box. I had already prepared this one.

She took the clamps and smiled.

"I am certain they're not earrings."

I shrugged. "If you would care to wear them around on your ears, I am willing to indulge that." This would be easy for her. I wanted to level her out a little in preparation for what was going to come next.

She shook her head with a slight smile. The clamps were elaborately mechanical and it was passing obvious what they were. It wasn't going to be a real trick for her to slip them under her coat without exposing herself, but again it worried her. She took this one in stride and managed with not too much trouble. She thought it was getting easier, and that's what I wanted. 

While she maneuvered, I pushed the folder onto the table. To her it was as much a symbol as her collar, maybe more. I'd had a storied sex life, and it was not until I showed her the folder I'd had made for her that she she'd first fully understood that she had become one of the special ones to me. I could still remember the way her face looked when it hit her. We didn't use the word "love" very often, but I could see it all the same.

"Yes. I was reading your questionnaire while I was waiting for you."

The way I said it made it seem that tonight's activity would be an offhand thing, as if an idea had just occurred to me as I sat sipping coffee. She knew this wasn't the case. I was nothing if not a careful planner, and when she had received the card, she knew that signified something major. My offhand tone was understatement, and she knew it. I watched her eyes grow a little wider. 

"I think we're going to try a little something new. Something from the pink column...you remember that don't you? "

I saw her swallow and thought how I loved watching panic rise in her. That was the trick. She wanted, needed, to feel the fear. The key was for her to trust me enough that it did not kick over into "real life" and bring her down. That was a constant low level anxiety. Keep her safe. Keep her trust. There was a world of writing on these responsibilities, most of it pretentious. To me it was like driving a car fast. There was little margin for error and you kept it under control. It was exciting and demanding and that made it rewarding. At times like this her emotions fed it and made it worthwhile.




The Cocktail Party



David Cross smiled to himself as he stepped out of his car, crossing the narrow, wooded street towards the house in front of him. House. It could hardly be called that. While not quite a mansion, the dwelling in front of him was beyond anything he had ever been formally invited to. Crashing the dean's annual Christmas party with this frat brother's years ago didn't count, he decided.

A man in a well dressed suit looked him over silently as he approached, and smiled politely as he spoke.

"Your name, please." 

"David Cross. I'm here on the invite of Roger Townes."

"You are on the list, Mr. Cross. Please proceed up the hill. You will be greeted at the door. Have a pleasant evening."

"Thank you," David said, with as much sophistication as he could muster. He began his trek up the winding hill, to the base of the estate. Despite his background as a swimmer in high school and college, he was still nearly out of breath once he reached the top. Halfheartedly, he noticed more than two dozen cars parked at the top of the hill, around a circular driveway leading up to the entrance. 

He approached the door and, just as he was about to consider how he should be announcing his presence, it swung open for him. There stood another man, dressed just as the first, but younger. His broad shoulders stood out even more thanks to the suit jacket, and his dark black hair, though neatly trimmed and combed, had the slightest wave.

"Good evening," said the man in the suit, standing tall and firm, glancing down at David with a professional nod.

"Hi," responded David, for lack of a better response.

"You must be David Cross. My associate radioed ahead. Please," said the dark haired man, gesturing toward the foyer, "come inside." 

"I see. Thank you," David answered, the exertion from earlier combined with nervousness making him sweat slightly under his sport jacket. 

David had a tendency to be over dressed. His first day at Hector & Townes, the firm co-partnered by the owner of this sprawling estate, he had worn a suit and tie when the attire was business casual. His past girlfriends, having told him to "dress nice tonight" were nearly always stupefied by his take on the term, showing up in dress slacks when they had expected jeans and a button down. Tonight, however, David felt immediately underdressed. He had expected the hired help to be wearing suites, maybe even a tux or two, but he had not been prepared for the dress of the guests. Nearly every man within sight wore a tie, many as part of a formal suit. A few (perhaps those whose cars were parked at the top of the hill) wore tuxedos. Suddenly, horribly, his sport coat and slacks felt horribly out of place.

And his view of the women didn't help. His eyes widened as a woman in a red dress walked past him. He couldn't help but take in every one of her features. Her creamy skin gave away the slightest radiance of a tan, while her tall, firm, curvy figure moved in rhythm with her steps. Her dress only made her more desirable, as two straps of fabric twisted around one another and crossed at her back, leaving just enough cleavage in front to allow his imagination to run wild. She glanced at him as she passed, looking away quickly towards her drink, and the next room.

He entered carefully, barely noticing the dark haired man behind him close the door. It wasn't just the people that made David feel out of place, it was the atmosphere. He looked up to find a chandelier reflecting the light in every direction, just as he heard the distant sound of a grand piano echoing throughout the halls.

If the door had not just behind him, David might have turn and ran. Instead, he took a breath, and walked forward into the depths of the party. Few noticed him, nor did he expect them to, and so he was equally surprised when he heard a voice behind him call his name.

"David Cross!" His boss's thick, deep voice sounded behind him. Though he had become used to the voice at the office, David nearly jumped at the sound, much in the same way he did the first time he heard Alex shout his name on the day he started at Hector & Townes.

"Alex," He said, turning as his hand extended. Inwardly, he applauded himself. In just a year and a half, he had gone from fumbling over his words and his motions when meeting a client or even in a new setting. Tonight, he was already handling himself with confidence, shaking his boss's hand as easily as he might an old friend from college.

"Glad you could make it," the large man beamed, a scotch in his hand and clearly already intoxicated. Alex looked over at the woman standing next to him, and nodded towards David. This time, it was impossible to retain his composure. The woman in red stood before him once again, her breasts (don't look down, David, Jesus don't look down in front of your boss) beckoning to him thanks to her lower stature, her brown eyes perfectly matching her hair. She smiled, and extended her hand. 

"Jennifer Miller." Her grip was firm, and warm.

"Hi," he responded, "I'm David."

"He's not this quiet at the office, Miss Miller," Alex said, a smile touching his lips as he continued, "One of our newest hires, but a damn bright one. Sure, he's got the MBA, but it's really just a sticker that lets you play with the big boys, doesn't mean you get to stay. Am I right?"

"Absolutely," David replied. In the past year and a half, two of his associates had been let go. It wasn't that they couldn't work hard enough, or that they didn't have the education. They simply couldn't learn fast enough. There was a saying that David used with one or two of his closest workers, the one competency that every new consultant had to have. "Be smart. Fast."

Alex nodded soberly, perhaps reading David's thoughts better than David would have imagined, given his state. "But enough of that," his boss spoke. "Jennifer is something of a rising star herself, I would say. You are familiar with our CGI account, I'm sure. She is the Associate Director of Marketing over there."

David nodded politely at her. "I've done some work on that account. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, however. Very nice to speak to you."

"And you," Jennifer replied. "Oh, and Alex tells me that you did your undergrad over at Central. I was there as well, graduated two years ago."

"Really? Yet another near miss, it seems."

"Yes. Your name sounds vaguely familiar, however. Didn't you do some research with the psychology department?"

Caught off guard, David felt his face flush. 

"A little," he replied. Memories flooded back.

"What kind of research?" His boss asked casually.

"Oh, the usual undergrad stuff. We did what we could with what we had." At that, David caught Jennifer in an ever so casual smirk. But she said nothing more on the subject.

"Well, David, it was very nice to meet you," she changed the subject. "Perhaps I will see you later. The martinis are excellent, by the way."

"I'll have to try one or four later," David said, smiling.

And with that, his boss and the mysterious woman in the red dress who knew far too much about him were gone. 

Trying to put it out of his mind, David took Jennifer's advice and got himself a martini at the bar. Not a large number of people can claim to have a full bar (complete with bartender) in their house, but Roger Townes could. And David Cross was more than happy to remove Mr. Townes of just a small amount of his most interesting vodka, a brand bottled in Iceland, and distilled over volcanic rocks. It tasted, suspiciously, like every other expensive vodka he had ever sampled.

"Hello again."

The voice behind him startled David. He was surprised, then shaken, to see the woman in the red dress, Jennifer, standing next to him once more. His boss was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi," he said, after some pause. He did not speak further, and an short, awkward silence ensued. Finally, Jennifer spoke once more.

"Alex is a decent man. He paints himself as a pretentious ass to fit in, but beneath it there is a certain refreshing humility."

"Funny," David said, less off-guard now. "I had him painted the same way in my own mind. So where is he now?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? He promised to be gone only a second. If your company was in any danger of losing mine as a client, he would not be the man I would pick to keep the main client-side contact entertained."

David chuckled. "Indeed. His specialty lies elsewhere." A feeling nagged at him, beneath the conversation, which he could not shake. David Cross might be an awkward man in a high-class home sipping martinis, but his instincts rarely failed him in such matters as human thoughts.

"You did not come over here for small talk," he said carefully.

The faintest of smiles crossed her lips. "No," she said, "I did not." 

"Then why are you speaking to me?"

She smiled again, more broadly this time, and leaned close to him, as though telling him a precious company secret. In this atmosphere, everyone politely and aristocratically on their way to drunk, no one noticed, save the bartender, and he did not care.

"I want," she said, and stopped just a little before continuing, "to watch you suck a cock."

The shock of her statement, along with the confidence oozing from every syllable of her voice nearly caused David to spill his drink. It waivered in his hand, a few splashes falling from the glass and onto his hand. He did not notice.

"What?" he asked? Smooth, he told himself in the same instant. Very smooth.

"You heard me," she replied, as she moved back from him just a little, letting her voice carry just a little farther. "And I know that you would enjoy it, just like you enjoyed it before."

At those words, David's body went rigid. Memories raced through his mind as he recalled what he knew she meant.

They had been at the bar, celebrating the end of the semester. There had been four of them there, him and three other research assistants. Ashley was a small, petite blond, quiet for the most part unless she got to talking about her favorite subjects, such as painting, drawing, or writing. Physically, Laura was a lesson in contrast. With her long brunette hair, large breasts, and curvy yet well-toned body, she laughed easily and could talk about anything, from politics to movie quotes. And then there was Daniel, who had a runner's powerful legs and tight, compact upper body, slightly smaller than David's more muscular swimmer's torso. 

Their research had comprised of a "safer" sex intervention among at their small Midwestern college. As seniors, they were asked to serve as moderators for discussions on the topic among groups of wide-eyed freshmen. It had been rather amusing to David, as well as the rest of them, to see the underclassmen blush about the most mundane of sexual topics, items they had frequently discussed among themselves as practice for leading each discussion. Their professor, a clinical psychologist, her accent thick with French stresses, had encouraged them to speak together about these topics as practice. Daniel had once been asked to list all of the names for a penis he could possibly think of, coming up with what he considered to be an impressive list of forty-two.

Now, however, the research was complete. The freshman had been tested on their attitudes before and after the intervention, the numbers had been crunched, and behold, their attitudes had changed. They were more likely to discuss safer sex with their partners, and now each of the seniors knew forty-two different ways to talk about cock. Graduation was near, and it was likely this would be the last time they might all get together.

And it all started with a question. A rather direct one, at that.

"Have you ever thought about sucking one another off?" said Laura, her smile wide but her tone quite serious. 

"Sure," said David, "All the time. It's all I think about. I...I just can't stop. Really, I think I need professional help," he broke out into laughter. Several empty tumblers and beer bottles were scattered across the table.

Daniel punched him in the shoulder, though he was laughing as well. "Don't even joke about that," he said into his drink. 

"I'm serious," Laura persisted, not letting it go. "We have been talking for the past forty-five minutes about female bisexuality. Ashley and I freely admitted that we have thought about kissing one another and saw your eyes light up like the Fourth of July, and yet, when I ask you a simple question about your own bisexuality, you both have no idea how to answer. David, you turn to sarcasm hoping to change the subject, and Daniel, all you know how to react is to punch someone."

"Thanks, Dr. Phil," spoke David, and then wished he hadn't said it, almost hearing her point replayed right afterward. She looked back at him, a knowing smile playing against her lips, but said nothing. Their group fell into an awkward silence, as each took a swig of their respective drinks. David had been carefully nursing a beer for most of the night, but his most recent choice, a Jack and coke, felt a little more intense.

Not minutes later, David could feel his head spinning as the conversation turned to other topics, Laura letting the bisexuality talk fall to the side.  He moved to get up toward the bathroom, and stumbled as he did, nearly taking the table with him.

"Ouch," Ashley laughed. "I think he might not be driving tonight."

Her words sounded distant as David got to his feet unsteadily. The memory faded, and his eyes refocused on Jennifer's lips, the clink of glasses and murmur of small talk flooding back into his senses. His mind sharpened. This was part of what they paid him for, his quick thinking. He would not let this woman who seemed to know far too much about his past threaten him.

"Perhaps," he said mildly, noting for the first time the tension in the woman's face, "perhaps not. But this is a bit sudden, don't you agree? You haven't even bought me dinner yet."

Jennifer's mouth hesitated, and then broke into a soft smirk. She leaned in toward David once more, hand reaching out to grab another drink that had appeared on the bar table seemingly from nowhere. As she did, she spoke softly, but directly. Her voice was casual, but her words rang in his ears.

"You won't talk yourself out of this, Mr. Cross. I could spread some pretty interesting rumors if I chose to."

"Why would you do that?" he responded his voice just as casual, but his face flushing, the hairs on his neck standing straight up.

"I told you why. I want to see you-" she stopped short as a man in a blue blazer approached the bar next to them and sat down without a glance. Looking back at him briefly, she continued. "You know what I want."

"Look," said David, "Let's talk about this somewhere else." He almost added "Please," but stopped himself short. 

"Fine. To your right over there is a hallway with a single door at the end. It will be locked. In ten minutes, walk up to the door and knock casually."

He nodded back at her, and walked away, carefully checking his watch as he did so. David's feet tingled with nervousness, anticipation, apprehension, and just a little bit of excitement. After all, the memory of that night was hard to forget.

Daniel had driven all of them back to Laura's apartment. Being the only one half sober, he had felt it necessary to not let anyone else drive, yet not so chivalrous as to drive each person home. After all, their cars were still in the parking lot, and they would have to go get them in the morning anyway.

Meanwhile, David's vision had improved a little, and his head wasn't swimming as badly as it had been earlier. He was nowhere near sober, but at least he could stand up straight. He was sitting in the common area of a well decorated but messy apartment. Books were scattered all over the coffee table, and an old pizza box took up part of the kitchen table, next to several days worth of mail. 

"How many people live here?" he asked Laura, who was sitting beside him sipping some water, also recovering from her earlier drinking.

"Just me and my roommate," she replied. "Most of this is my mess," she added. "My roommate is the organized one. Business major. I like a little clutter, makes it feel more like home." Turning to look at him, she smiled. Despite her glass of water, she still seemed quite tipsy, even more so than he. Her short skirt was pulled up slightly as she sat, and he couldn't help but catch himself looking longingly at her smooth, olive colored thighs. 

She caught him looking, their eyes meeting for a second before he looked away. "So," she began, pausing for effect, "have you thought about what I asked before?"

He briefly debated playing numb, and though better of it. It wouldn't make her drop it. His mouth opened to speak, and then closed again. His head felt light from the alcohol.

"A little," he finally answered.

Her eyes lit up. She leaned forward toward him, her low-cut shirt inching down, allowing him to see her supple breasts pushing together as she did so. "Really?" she practically purred. 

"Maybe," David answered, lust pushing away confusion. After all, he was telling the truth, but it was a woman in front of him, not a man. And she was unconsciously licking her puffy red lips as she spoke to him, her actions becoming bolder with each second. 

Laura was practically touching him now, her body inches from his as she spoke in slightly slurred syllables. "I'll take that as a yes." 

David's inhibitions vanished. He had been shy in high school, hadn't had a girlfriend until his senior year, but the past four years of college had changed him. While questions such as Laura's this night might still catch him off guard, he felt more confident with each passing day. He had taken to swimming every morning, and had felt his body change before his eyes from a skinny boy with padding in all the wrong places to a sleek, toned man. And he was a man who wasn't about to allow his fantasies to pass him by.

David pressed up against Laura with his entire body, his hands feeling the soft skin of her thighs as his hands reached down to touch her, gliding upwards. Her skirt lifted higher until it was level with her panties, but neither of them paid any attention to it. His lips closed against hers, and their tongues intertwined with lust. He could feel his hardness instantly growing, encouraged by the soft moans escaping her lips. God, he thought, she sounds like a porn star. 

The movement of her body was captivating, her back arching up and down, causing her hips to sway against him over and over again. Even her lips tasted like lust. Without hesitation, she grabbed his hand and pulled it up her legs. He smiled to himself in surprise, noting that her panties were completely soaked through, and that she was dripping down her thighs. 

Her body shook at his touch, and his own responded. He could feel his need for her rising, a deep energy flowing through him like nothing he had ever felt before. His cock was bulging underneath his pants so badly that it hurt. Without contemplation, he ripped Laura's panties from her hips so hard that she squealed in surprise. The underwear tore easily, and he threw them away without another thought. 

She smelled like sex, and it drove him wild.

Laura's soft, smooth legs were spread wide open in front of him, and he knew what he needed. David fell to his knees before her on the couch, pressing his mouth against her wetness as he began to lick her cunt without ceremony. He used long, deep strokes of his tongue all the way up and down the length of her wetness. She shook each time he passed her clit. 

"Oh baby," he heard her moan, as she began talking dirty to him "lick that fucking cunt. I need it. I need you to bury your face in me right now. I need-" 




The Cocktail Party



And she stopped, and was suddenly silent. Unconcerned at first, David continued to lick her, and continued to get the same quivering response at his every touch, but something had changed. She was quiet now, no longer making any noise aside from a soft exhale of breath at the conclusion of each lick of his tongue.

Finally, he pulled away, hoping to understand the reason for this change. It didn't take him long. Turning around, he could not help but let his mouth drop open just a little. 

There was Daniel, fully naked, his lean runner's body slightly glistening with sweat as he stood upright, he chest heaving slightly in anticipation. And below that, his cock was fully erect. Even from a distance, David could see the precum oozing from his friend's hardness as Daniel slowly rubbed his hand up and down himself.

"There," Laura's voice was deep, throaty, filled with desire, "it looks like I'll have a chance to see what I've always wanted after all."

David's head swam as he pulled himself back to reality. Checking his watch, he realized that fifteen minutes had come and gone in the sea of memories bubbling up into his consciousness. He still held a drink in his hand, barely touched. Absently, he placed in on the bar next to him, looking left and then right, wondering if anyone of the other guests knew what Jennifer knew.

Either way, it was past time. He stood up straight and walked toward the hallway Jennifer had directed him to earlier, his senses alight as he approached. His jacket felt heavy on him, his heart pounded. And, ever so slightly, his cock twitched. He pretended not to notice this last fact as he rapped at the door without hesitation. If he had stopped and thought about it for even a moment, he might have turned around walked away, but he knew that he could not.

The door opened before him.

The room was softly lit, a study of sorts. Books adored the walls on every side, and a dark leather couch split the room in half. David registered all of this in a moment, and then stopped. Opening the door before him once more was the same dark haired man who had answered the door when he entered. He was dressed in the same well-cut tuxedo, his dark hair spilling slightly over his forehead. The dark haired man gestured for him to enter, and he did.

It was then that he saw her, the devil in a red dress. Jennifer was seated in a high leather chair in the right corner of the room, beyond his initial view. She still wore her elegant red dress, flowing off of her curves like rainwater. 

But something was different about her. Her face was flushed, and her grin was even more mischievous than before. And her legs were spread wide open, revealing her tight, perfectly shaved cunt.

"Do you like it?" she asked as he entered.  "For the record, I haven't been wearing panties all night. Unfortunately, I started dripping. "James here-" she nodded in the direction of the dark haired butler "was helping clean me up a little."

David did his best to speak with an even tone as the door shut behind him. Ever so absently, he heard the click of a lock. "I see. It seems he has done a thorough job."

"I have no complaints," she said, matching his perfectly even tone. "I could still use a little help though."

This time, there was no denying his need. David wanted nothing more than to kneel before her and bury his face into her wetness. But he resisted. 

"I came to talk about another matter. The one you brought up earlier."

"I see," she smiled warmly. "Are you that eager?"

"I want to know why you are saying this to me. I want to know what it is you think you are doing." 

Her face shifted just a bit. His harshness had affected her, though she hid it quickly. Finally, after starring down at the floor, she looked up at him and spoke. "You must remember. I know that you do. I was watching."

And then it all made sense.

He had been drinking, yes, but not so much that he could ever forget, or that he could blame it on the alcohol. Not really. He simply couldn't forget the look on Laura's face when she saw him see Daniel standing naked before him, nor the intake of her breath as she realized that he wasn't going to walk away.

Instead, David had risen to his feet, his actions encouraged by Laura's desire mixed with his own. The smell of her juices rose from his lips, further pushing him forward. Before him, Daniel was still standing naked, his hand gently playing with his hardness. Clear fluid leaked from the tip of his penis, and his breathing was quick, uncertain.

In an instant, David made his decision. He dropped to his knees in front of Daniel's aching body and grabbed his cock from him. He grabbed the cock as though it were his own, taking it in his hand and rubbing back and forth over it. Daniel let out a long, deep moan that David would never forget, pushing his hips hard against David's hand. Stroking it slowly, David watched as the cock in front of him pulsed in his hand. Daniel was already quite turned on, and David couldn't help but imagine the taste of this hard cock in his mouth.

He had thought about it before, but really more in an academic sense. He had wondered what it might be like to touch another cock, even to suck on it, but he had never dreamed he would actually have one right in front of him, nor that his own cock would be so hard, his fingers electric with desire as he touched it. Perhaps part of it was Laura, who David could see licking her lips out of the corner of his eyes as she moved closer to them for a better view. Her fingers had found her swollen clit, and she was teasing herself slowly, lightly circling it as she spread her legs wide open, her inhibitions completely gone.

David hesitated, but only for a second. He wasn't quite sure how much of Daniel's cock he could take, nor whether he would know what to do, despite loving to have his own cock sucked. And still, he wanted it. He wanted to lick the precum from Daniel's aching cock so badly that it hurt his own cock not to be doing it. His body was begging for the taste.

And so, he complied.

David took the other man's cock in his mouth as his tongue pressed up against the tip. Instantly, he could taste the sweet saltiness of Daniel's precum against his lips and the tip of his tongue. Both of their bodies shook with pleasure as David took the cock before him deeper in his mouth, forcing himself to allow it inside without the fear of choking. He was surprised at the size, at how it nearly filled his mouth with half its length, and how far he would have to allow it to go if he wanted to take it all. One step at a time, he told himself, and repeated the process, allowing the cock to enter his mouth once more, holding it against his lips as it exited with a loud pop. 

Laura's moans were increasing with every second, but David was too involved to think of anything but taking this hardness deeper into his mouth. Saliva was running gently down his lips as Daniel began to push back against him. Nearly unnoticeable at first, the thrusting became more pronounced until it was all that David could do to keep from choking as the hard cock before him plunged deeper and deeper into his mouth, and he was forced to gasp for breath at the end of each thrust. 

And then, Daniel pushed inside him so hard that he nearly gagged. Forcing his cock as deep as he could, Daniel held his cock inside David's mouth, pressing his hand over David's head, fucking his mouth. David tried to protest, but his breath was snuffed from him, and his throat burned with the feeling of cock buried deep inside it.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Daniel released, and David doubled over, gasping for breath. Reaching down, he felt himself. He was still hard. Rock hard. There was precum dripping from his own penis, everywhere. While the feeling of being unable to breath was certainly not pleasant, he couldn't help but feel a certain wickedness he had never felt before, the feeling of being used for someone else's pleasure that both electrified and terrified him simultaneously. 

A flicker of movement from the hallway to their left caught his eye, and David turned to see what it might have been. Seeing nothing, he turned to Laura, acutely aware of his position. Laura only smiled, sensing his concern.

"Ashley is passed out in the other room," she said, "and my roommate won't be home until Thursday."

And David had nodded, turning back to the cock before him.

"You were home," David stated, looking straight into Jennifer's eyes as he did so.

"Yes," she nodded slightly as she spoke, "I was."

"You saw."

"Yes, I did."

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"No. What would I have said? I didn't know who you were, I didn't find out until later. And even then, what would I say? No, I didn't tell anyone. But I kept the memory with me. Of what you did to him. And what he did to you...after that."

"Why?"

"Because it turned me on. You have no idea how many times I have fucked myself, remembering that moment. I've tried to simulate it, watching porn, reading stories; nothing is the same as the spontaneity of that moment, the way that you dropped your inhibitions and allowed it to happen. The way that you were so comfortable with your sexuality. And the way that you enjoyed being watched."

David felt himself blushing. For lack of a better reaction, his body seemed to feel it was the most appropriate response. Finally, slowly, he spoke "And you want to see it again."

"Yes," she practically hissed. "And my good friend James here wants to help." She paused for a second, allowing her words to sink in. The man with the black hair, James, was expressionless save for a slight grin. "Do you think he is hot, David?" Jennifer asked, her legs pushing even farther apart.

David had no idea how to reply to that. The man before him, whose hair had been his only distinguishing feature when they first met, now looked at him without expectation, but a certain confidence David found difficult to place. Slowly, he began to remove his tuxedo, as David stood motionless, barely able to breathe as he tried to grasp the situation. It didn't help that the room smelled heavily of Jennifer's sex, her pussy obviously wet and ready for him. This thought made his cock jump in spite of himself

He knew what had been happening moments before his arrival, and could nearly taste her himself. Before he knew it, the tuxedo was gone. James had stripped completely naked, and his toned body, evident even through the dress clothes, was now even more pronounced. He must, David thought almost absently, be a runner or a swimmer, bringing him back to Daniel faster than his mind could adjust. Shaking the thought away, he looked up and down the naked man before him, and then back to Jennifer. 

"I don't think I can do this," he said at last.

"You don't have a choice," was her reply.

"And why is that?"

"Because if you don't, I will tell as many people as I can find about what I saw so many years ago. Yes, I'm sure that many won't believe me. But a few will. And maybe it won't destroy your career, but it certainly won't help it."

"It won't help yours, either."

"David," she said, her voice terse, starring at him, "I don't care. I've been stuck in this shithole of a job for far too long already, and it hasn't been that long. I've been aching for something, anything to make getting up in the morning each day worthwhile. And then, a few weeks ago, I realized what I was missing. I needed to feel what I felt when I watched you that night. I needed to feel the desire and the need and the feeling of just seeing something wrong happening right before my eyes, and fuck it all, I'm going to see it."

David stepped back, as though slapped in the face. Jennifer was serious, he realized. Not just serious, but serious enough to do anything to get what she wanted. And in that fraction of a second, David Cross made up his mind.

He walked deliberately over to the naked man before him, dropped to his knees, and took the hard cock deep inside his mouth. There was no hesitation, no deliberation, but rather the hard pulsing of the man in front of him against his lips as he tried to remember what he had done so many years before. 

It came back to him quickly.

David turned back to Daniel, and placed his lips over the tip of the other man's cock once again. It responded instantly, leaking warmth into his mouth. Surprised, David tried not to act the part as he sucked the salty precum quickly into his mouth. Tasting it, he was surprised at the sweet bitterness, having never really understood the complaints of women who had tasted him. It was almost pleasant, sensual as it rolled down his throat. He gripped the cock in front of him with his right hand, moving back and forth in slow motions as he let his lips roll over the head in rhythm. It didn't take much of this motion for Daniel to moan above him, his body shaking as Laura let out her own soft, sensual noises behind. 

Lost in time, David continued to allow the warmth of the cock inside his mouth to move deeper and deeper until it began to his the back of his throat, nearly choking him as he struggled to keep up. Without even a thought, David realized that he was stroking himself with his other hand, and that his own cock was rock hard as he struggled to take the increasingly insistent dick deeper down his throat. 

Time slowed. Every sensation and every noise made David acutely aware of what was going on around him. He felt the cock in his mouth penetrating his lips with every thrust, and yet wanted more. He felt his own hardness in his left hand, forcing strings of electric current through his body with every touch. Together, they worked in tandem to produce a feeling he would never forget. Combined with a side look at Laura, who was no longer even pretending she was doing anything but masturbating as she watched the two men before her, and was writhing in pleasure, David lost control. 

He was gasping against Daniel's cock, and it was all it took. As suddenly as it had begun, it ended with Daniel nearly screaming in ecstasy as he shot spurt after spurt of warm cum deep into David's mouth, and David responded by increasing his pace, feverishly, wordlessly begging for more as he sucked and slurped at the aching cock inside his mouth. 

He swallowed it all.

And, kneeling before the cock in front of him in this elegant study, David realized with absolute clarity that he would swallow again. The hard, warm pulsing thing before him was even more alive than Daniel's had ever been, though it was difficult to admit. Daniel's cock had been young, eager, needy. James, the butler, was hungry, but also cool, confident, never doubting for a minute at what might occur. James had known from the moment that this evening had started that David would be kneeling before him, and the only thought that David could entertain was how fucking hot that was. 

He did what he had done before, only better. With age had come patience, and with patience had come the ability to tease. And that is what David did. Rather than taking as much as he could into his mouth at once, David pushed his lips over and over upon the man before him, a loud sucking noise echoing throughout the room. 

Over and over he felt the hardened head of the black haired man's cock pass through his lips, and over and over David felt his body twinge with desire and need as he felt Jennifer's eyes upon him with every breath. He knew that he was being watched, and it fueled him, consumed him to the point that he could hear his own moans so loudly that he had to silence himself, for fear that anyone walking by might hear. James and Jennifer said nothing of this, but only allowed him to continue.

Finally, Jennifer's voice pierced through his and James's moans. "Stop," she said. 

Instantly, he complied.

"Your lips look so juicy, covering his cock. I want to feel them against me. Eat me, David." It was not a request, nor even a command. It simply was. 

David did not think for a second, nor did he consider his actions, but rather removed the cock from his mouth with a loud pop, and crawled over to Jennifer's waiting pussy. Her legs were already spread wide open, and the smell of her sex was overwhelming now that he was close enough to see how wet she was. He wondered if she had been fingering herself as she watched, or if the juices running down her pussylips were purely the result of the earlier licking she had received. In the end, it didn't matter. David's need was so dire that he would have pleased her in any way possible, and as his lips met those of her cunt he groaned in a deep, feral ecstasy unmatched except perhaps for her own.

She tasted heavenly, and as he licked in long, smooth strokes up and down her wetness he thought of how he would feel inside her, his long hard cock buried so deeply in her wetness that she could do nothing but scream in pain and pleasure. Every so often, he would focus on her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth just underneath it, forcing moans so loud that he was sure that she might be heard at the party down the hall.

And then, as she reached around his head to pull him farther into her, she spoke several words he would never forget.

"James," she said, her voice harsh and rasped, "fuck him."

She received no reply, but none was needed. In what seemed like an instant, David could feel a hard body pressed against him from behind. In other circumstances, he would have protested, broken off. But everything was right, and he could feel it. He could feel the wetness before him dripping as Jennifer spoke, and he could feel the strong arms gripping him, the body pressing against him that left no room for question. David let everything happen, let the body of the man he did not know undress him and envelop him, let the cock he had so recently sucked press against his ass without hesitation, and let the pussy glued to his mouth writhe and curl to his delight.

It happened slowly, but he remembered it as a blur. The well-lubed cock behind him began to press slowly against his ass, pushing ever so hard against him. While he would never admit this to anyone, David did like to play with his ass while he touched himself, fucking his ass with his fingers or a small toy as he jacked off his throbbing cock.

But nothing could prepare him for this. James knew what he was doing, and entered him gently but firmly, allowing David to adjust to being filled before he continued. It might not have mattered-David's cock was so hard that he could never protest, never turn back. 

And then, he felt it. A well-lubed hand reached around him to wrap around his cock, and David was without control. Slowly, while the hand wrapped around him picked up speed, so did the cock inside him. Each thrust hurt at first, but an indescribably wave of pleasure so intense followed that David could only moan, his mouth wet and dripping with pussyjuices.

Jennifer was screaming as she watched what was happening right in front of her, and David realized he was also moaning against her. James was relatively quiet, though his groans and grunts from behind David indicated he too was nearly bursting with pleasure.

David's hips moved in rhythm to the man behind him. He felt so incredibly full, pleasure and need radiating all through his body as the smell of Jennifer's sex overwhelmed him. His tongue flew across her clit as his own cock pulsed in James's hand, and her body writhed against him as his own shook with excitement. 

Jennifer was on the edge, grinding her face against him as she came. Her orgasm was so long that it occurred simultaneously with the two men. David had begun pushing back even against James, wordlessly begging for more as the man behind him continued to fuck his ass, and soon enough it was more than even James could handle. The man came deep inside David's ass, shooting so hard that David felt every last drop against him as his own orgasm overtook him, the hand wrapped around him squeezing as he emptied his load all over the expensive carpeting beneath him. James's orgasm pushed David harder against Jennifer, and her orgasm in turned forced him farther back until every part of him tingled with fulfillment.




The Cocktail Party



At last, James collapsed on top of him, and Jennifer moaned her final finale. They stayed like that for a time, David's ass still filled with cock and his mouth still covered by Jennifer's juices, until finally James released him, stood up, and left after re-dressing. Jennifer was next, looking down at him as she straightened her dress.

"God," she said, "that was fantastic."

And as she left, a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor beneath him. It was her card. On the front, a new account she was managing. On the back, her cell phone.



The Cocktail Party



It started before the cocktail party.

I started teasing Scott while getting ready, not really wanting to go. But I had promised my friend Alison that we would attend her party. I put on my skin color thigh highs and garter belt. I had always preferred them over regular panty hose so that I wouldn't have to worry about tugging on them late into the evening. I threw over a sheer pink blouse that moved with my body and pulled up a gray pencil skirt that hugged my hips. And nice black heels to top it off. My teasing was slowly dressing in front of Scott, not letting him touch me whenever he would try.

Scott put on his gray slacks with a gorgeous blue dress shirt that went wonderfully with his eyes. He was wearing one of my favorite shirts. He looked damn sexy as hell and I wanted nothing more than to undress and straddle him. I bit my lip staring at him and I knew he could tell what I was thinking. But any more time spent getting ready and we were going to be late. 

I ignored the thought and went into the bathroom only to gain a new one. Scott and I loved teasing each other in public. Small touches across the arm with tender kisses on the neck to pushing up against each other in ways we shouldn't be. So why not tease each other at the party? Before Scott could see me, I quickly pulled my panties off, leaving myself free and exposed in my thigh highs and garter under my skirt. Excited by the thought of being panty-less, I knew I probably looked a little flushed when Scott walked into the bathroom.

"Everything okay, baby? You look a little red."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "Just ready to go and come back."

"Well, I'm ready to go when you are."

I smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he smacked my ass and we left.

Alison's party wasn't as bad as we were expecting it to be. Loads of people filled her house and back patio, having drinks and carrying on conversations. I moved my way with Alison a bit, stopping to say hello to people I had just seen a couple of days before and chatting with people I hadn't seen in quite some time. When I was finished working my way through the crowds in Alison's home, I decided it would be the best time to work my way towards my actual recreation for the evening. 

Scott was talking with a friend when I came up behind him to ask if he needed another drink. I don't think either of them noticed that I was heading in their direction. I ran my fingers delicately across his arm and to his hand to get him to notice I was there and he immediately looked at his hand before looking at me. Whenever I touched him like this, he knew what I wanted. A sly smile played across his face as he understood the look in mine. 

"Would you like another drink honey?" I was being sweeter than normal, smiling deliciously at him with desire.

Scott grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him, planting a soft kiss in-between the crease of my neck and shoulder. "Hmm, yes I would Claire." I noticed his friend look awkwardly at our playful advance towards each other. It was fairly entertaining. 

I smiled back and moved away, flaunting myself knowing he was watching. I could feel the wetness forming in-between my legs at the idea of teasing each other knowing when we got home, we would explode before getting to the bedroom. 

The kitchen was actually pretty deserted since most of the guests were out and about the house. I grabbed another beer for Scott and a cocktail for myself. I was about to head out the kitchen when I sensed the opportunity to do something devilish. 

I looked around the corner of the entry way to make sure that no one was heading towards the kitchen. When I made sure that everyone seemed pretty occupied with what they were doing, I popped back in and quickly placed my hand under my skirt to dip my fingers inside my pussy. I wanted to make sure that I got enough of my juices that had started to form on the tip of my two fingers in the short amount of time I had. When I was done, I fixed my skirt with my spare hand, grabbed Scott's beer and my drink, making sure not to touch anything with my fingers. 

When I returned back outside to the patio, Scott noticed me this time. He was both smiling and looking awkwardly at me. I was sure it was because of the sinful smile I had across my face. I gave him his beer and switched my drink to my other hand, leaving my dipped fingers free. I pretty much ignored his friend at this point. 

"Alison has the wonderful dip here inside. It's really good. Look." I held my fingers up to his mouth and he stared at me a little tongue-tied, unsure what to do to my gesture. 

"That's okay babe, I'm not hungry." I could tell he was a little embarrassed. 

"Just try it Scott. Let me know what you think." I kept my hand at the level of his mouth and he obliged, giving his friend the 'I'm sorry' look as he did. But when his tongue hit my fingers, his face change and I felt him suck a little before pulling away. He looked at me again, slightly smiling and obviously bemused. He knew what I tasted like. He was obviously shocked, but quickly composed himself before his friend could ask what was wrong. 

"Hmm... that is delicious Claire. I might have some later." And before I could reply and leave, he pulled me into him again, this time planting a kiss right on my lips and letting me taste was little was left of me on his tongue. I smiled when he pulled away and said nothing as I left to go mingle again with the other guests. We didn't get near each other again for awhile, but whenever we were in the same area and visible to each other, our eyes would never leave. I could see the hunger building in him as I knew it was building in me. 

I walked back towards the kitchen and started to pour myself another drink when I felt a body press up against me. I felt Scott's stubble chin rest on my neck as his arms pulled me into him and his constrained hardness push up into me. 

"Now what is that you are trying to do to me here, Claire? Because what I tasted earlier was not dip." I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the sarcasm that leaked into his voice, complying with my previous actions. 

"I just wanted to let you know how I was doing. Was it good enough information?" Teasing was always part of our foreplay. 

"Good – yes, Claire. But not enough." He let go of me quickly and looked into the other room. Before I could figure out what he was up to, Scott came back and pushed me up against the counter, pulling my skirt up and running his fingers along my lips before dipping them inside me. The thought of getting caught quickly flooded my mind but wasn't enough for me to stop the feeling he was creating. 

It was practically over as soon as it started when his hand left my skirt. I quickly fixed it and when I turned around his fingers were back in his mouth, sucking what he gathered off. I felt added arousal flood me just watching him. I quickly pulled him into me, kissing him and running my tongue across his lips to get the taste off. His hardness pressed into my crotch and pushed me up against the counter. We must have gotten lost in the kiss since before I knew it, I could hear a throat being cleared beside us. We broke, only to find Alison standing there, giving us the motherly 'you should know better' look. 

"Do you think you both could keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the evening? I'm use to the pubic displays, but please don't frighten my guests." If only she had walked in a couple of minutes earlier. 

She grabbed two drinks and walked away, leaving us there to laugh as she left. I grabbed my drink and rubbed my ass against Scott's crotch before leaving him there. "You're mine when we get home. Until then – down boy."

He grinned at me, smacking my ass as I walked out of the kitchen. I returned to party in the living room and it wasn't long when Scott followed and returned outside. As much as I jokingly told him to calm down, I knew I wouldn't. I could feel myself getting hotter by the second, despite the obvious breeze coming from outside. Part of it had to be from me. The other part had to be from the heater inside since after awhile, people started to slowly head outside to the patio. Alison also had it decorated nicely with lights, so it looked delightful outside. 

I began to follow the crowd until I noticed Scott standing in the hallway entry. I never noticed he had come back inside. But he wasn't moving. Almost as if he had been standing there the entire time watching me. I smiled at him and his smile was different. Wicked and gleeful, as though he had a secret and I would have to travel to him to get it. Curious, I did and when I reached him, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway towards the bathroom. I was oblivious as to what was about to happen. 

Closing the door and locking it behind us, he grabbed me by the hips and pushed me towards the counter. "I can't wait until we get home. I need to have you now." I wasn't going to argue. I locked my lips to his in a desperate need I rarely ever needed to show as he pulled my skirt up and around my waist. My pussy now out in the open, he ran his finger quickly over my clit before pushing me up onto the counter. I spread my legs wide enough to take his body closer to mine, fumbling with the button and zipper of his slacks and pushing them towards the ground. He yanked his boxers down with them and stood back up, placing both his hands on my knees and gripping onto me hard. 

I grasped the counter and scooted forward until I was on the edge and as I did, he met my entrance and slowly started to push forward. I glanced up to look at him but at that moment, he was looking down. He stared at my entrance, watching himself slowly enter me and pulling back. Why he was taking his time in a situation where we knew we had none, I have no idea. But the feeling was staggering and I felt my walls clench around him as I craved for more. 

A couple of slow pushes in me, gazing at his cock inside my pussy, and he looked up to peek at me. The entire time I was watching him intently, noting his pleasure. And then he moved quicker, spreading my legs farther apart and sending my head back against the mirror, my hands pushing up against it. His movements were no longer slow, but quick and ravenous, as if he had never had me before. 

I could already feel my orgasm building in me and my muscles slowly tightening around his cock. I had been worked up since we left the apartment and needed the kind of release that I knew only he could give me. The way he pushed into me, the position, and even desire that couldn't wait until we left made me want to do nothing else but to come for him. 

I became very happy in that instant with the way he was wearing his shirt, allowing me to shift up towards him quickly and pull it to the side. I was going to need a way to hide the moan I knew I could not muffle myself and there was only one way how.

I noticed he bit on his lower lip to muffle his grunts, pushing into me faster than before and wrapping one arm around my waist to bring me to him. He took his other hand and rubbed his thumb over my clit when I wrapped my legs around him and that was all it took for me. I grasped onto him, pulling his shirt to one side, and brought his shoulder to me to bury my face in. My pussy tightened around his cock as I came and my hands dug into his arms through his shirt as I bit into his shoulder, muffling my moans. I felt his body lurch as my teeth made contact, but not once did he ever stop.

When my body fell limp, I moved away and leaned up against the mirror, spreading my legs wider for him again. But when he placed his hands under my knees, I knew he had a different idea. He stopped quickly to lift my legs up and place my ankles onto his shoulders. When he was securely in-between my legs again, he continued to fuck me, his movements more vigorous than before. 

His hands gripped onto my thighs and the harder they gripped, the closer I knew he was. I held onto the counter once more to keep from falling off but I wasn't holding on long. He pushed into me quickly and stayed there, pushing me up against the mirror some more while his orgasm shot through him, shooting his cum into me. I felt him push a couple of more times before he braced his body against the mirror above me. 

"My god Scott, that was incredible." I felt his cock slide out of me as he pulled away, quickly grabbing tissues.

"Come on babe, we better getter back before someone notices." We both cleaned up, and re-adjusted our clothes. You could see the wrinkles in his shirt from where my hands were but luckily not the bite mark on his shoulder where I left a bruise. My skirt didn't look so good either from being bunched up around my waist for that short period. But a couple of pats down and I was fine. 

We both checked the hallway before leaving the bathroom and heading back into the living room. No one questioned where we had been and from that, I figured we hadn't been gone long. I started to walk into the direction of Alison when Scott grabbed my arm and planted a kiss on my cheek. He pulled me into him and held me there with his hands. 

"I'm very pleased that you chose not wear panties with that garter of yours. Watching my dick enter you dressed like that was incredible." And the he walked off, leaving me there to smile before heading over to Alison. 

We were only at the party for about an hour more before people decided to leave and we followed in pursuit. We said goodbye to everyone and left, like nothing ever happened. We even sat in the car on the way back home as though we didn't just have sex not to long ago in our friend's bathroom. But when we walked into the house, all of that changed. I turned to lock the door and when I turned back around, he had me pushed up against it, his mouth locking with mine in another passionate kiss like the one in the bathroom. 

"This time slower Claire. But you're leaving the garters on."

And I did.



The Cocktail Party



"Take your time in the tub," my Master had ordered, when he called to inform me about the cocktail party. 

He had the entire house custom built to suit his, now our, pleasures. Luxuriating in a deep whirlpool jet tub, big enough to seat at least four, maybe six if they wanted to get cozy, was just the beginning of the special treats, but definitely one of my favourites. Master knew that, and this command was clearly a gift to me. Like a good slave, I knew I would repay Master in time; in his time, more precisely. 

I loved the tub so much that I was tempted to finger myself, but I knew that if I so much as caressed my erect nipples, my clit would ache so badly that I would orgasm. Master had not specified anything about that. I knew Master, and if he wanted me to release my sexual excitement, he would have said so. If I jilled myself off, and later claimed that I thought "take your time" was code, I might earn a solid slap across my face. As much as I loved Master's discipline, I did not want to incur true wrath. 

Master had bought me a new little black dress for the cocktail party, and I took my time dressing. Just one look at the dress told me that if I tried to wear it with a bra, or even panties, the lines would show. Master knew my body so well, he had picked a dress which would fit just like a glove, with room to caress my abundant flesh, but no more. Cut low in back and front, a bra would be jarringly obvious and destroy the effect. Panties would be just as superfluous. It still took time to wriggle my hips and tits into the fabric, and to smooth the dress into place. When I examined myself in the mirror, I was pleased, and knew that Master would be even more so. The black silk flowed over my skin like I was wearing just a layer of paint, moulded to my curves. I am not a skinny girl - I have boobs, and hips, but exercise keeps my ass like a shelf. The dress adjusted nicely to the demands of my curves, but there was barely enough to cover my booty, let along my thighs. 

What really took the time though was my hair and makeup. Since the dress looked flawless, the rest of me needed to as well. I like to believe Master when he says I'm a natural beauty, but I realized that this party required me to assist nature - the trick, as always, was doing just the right amount to enhance my looks, without overdoing it. 

It then took me all the time I had available to select my shoes. I tried on the three-inch black heels, a classic match, but, I concluded, lacking in enough drama. The red cage stilettos went too much the opposite direction. The second I slid my toes into the six-inch pumps, I knew that I was ready for the cocktail party. 

Master had sent a car and driver to collect me and deliver me to the party - he worked downtown, and could shower and change at his office. He had told me that he had booked the car so that he would arrive just before me, sparing me any uncertainty about being alone. 

The car ride was brief, and uneventful. The air conditioning was on high, making my nipples tingle. I opened my knees slightly, allowing the cool air to bathe my clit, taking the edge off. Master books his drivers from the best livery service - not so much as a glance in the rear view mirror. I gripped my handbag tightly in both hands, to resist touching myself. Even the best driver might react if I started wriggling in the back seat. 

I had never been to the house where the cocktail party was being held, so I took extra care navigating the flagstone walkway, and was pleased that my host was waiting at the door. The foyer was mirrored, and brightly lit. I realized that in the light, my large, dark nipples were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of the little black dress - I might as well be topless. The hardness of my nipples from the walk through the nippy evening air just accentuated the effect. I knew though, that Master would have anticipated this when he picked the dress, so I tossed my hair and threw my shoulders back with pride. 

Glancing to the side as I walked, I also realized that the cut of the dress left most of the top half of my mounds exposed. Every step that I took made my jugs jiggle. I was not even inside the main room, and men were already ogling my cleavage. I knew that Master was using this display to make the others jealous of the woman he owned. I grinned triumphantly, proud to serve. 

My smile widened even further when I saw my Master, halfway across the room, at the centre of a small conversation, looking cool and in control as always - the man all these other men wished they could be. 

As I approached, our eyes met, then locked. Our relationship is that tight. I sensed rather than heard the string quartet playing the waltz as Master excused himself and stepped toward me, his arms ready not to embrace me, but to dance. 

We immediately moved in time with the music, our hands clasped at shoulder height, and Master softly stroking the small of my back while I rested my arm around his waist. Only then did I appreciate how low the back of the little black dress dipped. 

He led me skillfully out of the main room onto the open balcony. Then he leaned over and kissed my cheek just in front of my ear, trailing kisses down to my shoulder and upward again, finally nibbling on my earlobe. By this stage, our bodies were pressed tightly together, his hand holding my loins against his. I could barely breath. His hand slid up my back from my waist, the heat warming my flesh where the fabric ended. When his hand reached my shoulder blade, Master slid it across, caressing the side of my breast. I could not help myself, I had to sigh, express my passion. His fingers closed over my nipple, squeezing it hard as his teeth clamped down on my earlobe with greater force than earlier. That was all it took, after the long buildup, for me to have a tiny orgasm, my knees and clit trembling in the night air, lost in the music, safe in Master's arms. 

A moment later, I felt the wall behind me as Master forced me against it. His groin pressed against mine. He had already been semi-erect at the beginning of the dance. Now he was as hard as a rock. His left hand slid down my flesh, slowly caressing me, as if we had all night, ignoring the existence of the cocktail party five feet away on the other side of the wall. He slowed as he traversed the gentle curve of my belly, that little pillow he liked to rest his head on. It seemed like forever, though I doubt that it was actually more than a minute before his fingertips found the hem of the little black dress and tugged it up over my thighs. As my dress rose, exposing my loins not only to the night air, but to anybody else who happened to be on the balcony, I leaned back against the wall, barely able to breathe. Then the tip of a single finger caressed my slit, easing its way inexorably upward to tease my clit.

"I love how wet you are," he breathed into my ear, the first words he had spoken to me at the cocktail party. "And I'm pleased that you knew not to wear panties."

His fingers never stopped working. He knew just how much pressure to apply so that I could just feel his fingers. I froze against the wall, unable to move even though I'm convinced that every molecule of my being was vibrating with excitement. He ran his fingers down along my labia, caressing me roughly. His long middle finger curled up and back, spreading my cheeks so that my anus gaped open in anticipation. I gasped with joy as he thrust up into my ass. I almost exploded into another climax, but held back, knowing that I should allow him to continue. 

I was not disappointed. He spread his hand, fingers stretching my cunt wide, his thumb finding my clit, strumming it to the beat of the unseen quartet. He applied more pressure to my clit while thrusting his fingers deep inside my cunt. In slow circles, he rotated his thumb over my clit as he finger fucked me. 

With his other hand, he found my heaving bosom, popping it free from the dress, tweaking the nipple with his fingers, and then lowering his teeth to it. 

My hips started, once again, moving all on their own. I no longer knew nor cared whether every guest at the cocktail party had rushed out to check out the noise on the balcony. If they had formed a ring of admirers around me, I would not have been aware, nor cared. All I wanted was those three fingers to keep thrusting ever deeper into my womb. Each stroke built my anticipation, the waves of pleasure begging for release. I prayed for my orgasm to come quickly, yet never wanted this sex to stop. 

My shoulders pinned against the brick, my back arched out as I groaned, unable to hold back my climax, flooding his fist with my juices. 

Master held me like that, his hardness still encased in his pants, but pressed tight to my thigh, as I caught my breath. The music had started again, a loud number, as he stepped back. Master had given me an incredible gift, and I knew that it was my turn to return the pleasure. I dropped to my knees on the balcony, swiftly lowering his zipper. His hardness was so ready that it flopped right out as soon as the tension was relaxed. 

I opened my mouth, relaxed my jaw and swallowed half of his cock in one motion, closing my lips around his shaft, my tongue and cheeks bathing his flesh hungrily. I had to hold his ass with both hands to make sure that I did not knock him over as I enthusiastically took his fullness deep into my throat. 

Teasing the head gently, when I felt the familiar shiver run up his spine I began to lave the squishy head with my tongue, wetting it with my spit as I stroked it . Master groaned and I looked up at him, winking as my tongue teased his pee slit, tasting the precum leaking freely.

"Oh, you're so good at this," Master sighed, his fingers toying with my hair. 

I flicked my tongue once more around his hole, and then closed my lips around his hardness, sucking the head into my mouth. Master rewarded me by spurting another taste of pre-cum into my mouth. 

As always, I savoured this experience, never tiring of the glorious feeling of having Master's cock inside my mouth. Reaching inside his trousers, I found his balls and began to knead them. Time had vanished, I was locked into the narrow world of this blow-job, no longer hearing the quartet, no longer aware of my surroundings, no longer worried about the cocktail party, about who might be watching me. Thinking back on it, if I had known I had an audience, I would just have been pleased that I did my Master proud, displaying my talents to his cronies and their women, no doubt leaving them even more jealous of his superiority. 

I could feel the wetness inside my mouth building as I began to slowly bob my head back and forth on his cock. I kept my tongue busy, rolling it around his flesh as I took more and more of his length inside my mouth. He watched me as I sucked him. 

My fingers massaged his balls as I continued to suck him, now going from head to base, moving very slowly but very much on a mission. Then I slid a finger inside his boxers, reaching under his balls to his crack and rubbed his ass hole. His sphincter opened and I stimulated his prostate, just as he had trained me to do. He exploded and pumped his cum into my mouth. It was such a huge load that I almost passed out. 

Pulling me to my feet, Master kissed me.Our tongues explored each other's mouths. We held each other closely, once again swaying, dancing to the music. 

When we finally broke the kiss, Master grinned at me and said, "Thank you for making this a true cock tail party. Now let's go home and fuck. I need to fill your cunt and ass with my cum."

Magically, our driver was waiting at the gate. Master must have said our goodbyes, because I was swept away like a princess, though I barely had entered the party, not even having had a cocktail. 

Yet, it was my favourite cocktail party ever. 



The Cocktail Party



"Yes, Slave, you're dressing for the evening. It's a cocktail party. Dress classy but sexy. A short black dress with stilettos would be appropriate."

You rush to dress appropriately already slick and wet from this voicemail message. You pick an expensive black dress that clings to your body. The material is almost like silk but it is stretchy and hugs your body. Four inch classy high heels are pretty much the only other clothing. You know better than to wear a bra and your panties are a thong.

Your make-up is perfect, your hair is gorgeous, your legs are so damned long you have to admire them yourself. You want to give yourself a quick orgasm. You start to rub, careful not to mess anything up. You get close to the edge when the horn starts honking. Exasperatingly close... but you stop and rush to the car.

A limo is there to pick you up. The driver gets out to meet you and places a thick but supple leather collar on your neck. It has a D ring in front. He places luxurious but strong leather cuffs with D rings on your wrists. The bonds are so beautifully designed that they could pass as jewelry. He then adds a blind fold and you realize I am not in the back of the car.

You sit with perfect posture in the back of the car behaving as if I could see you, knowing the driver will probably report on your behavior anyway. You are not bound but you sit so still you could be. Between the excitement of the evening, the blindfold and the mild masturbation, you are aware of every tiny sensation. You wonder if it is possible to accidentally orgasm just from the vibration of the car which seems to pass right into your clit like the most mild of vibrators.

The car stops, the door opens, your blindfold comes off and you see me. "This is a party of very special friends. You are to behave as the perfect blend of sophisticated girlfriend and obedient slave. I trust that you will find the right balance."

"Yes Master, of course Master, anything you want Master" ...you bite your lip, you wonder why are you rambling. You wish you could just drop to your knees and suck my cock. Pleasing your Master in public gets you very excited but this is so much more demanding because you need to make the right decisions on your own. 

You are nervous by this demand because it is not as easy as simply surrendering. How to be both girlfriend and slave? How to be classy and appropriate and still be obedient? These are hard questions. But, you are thrilled to realize that you are now my most prized slave. You know it is incredible that I have brought you to this party. My reputation for spectacular slaves is well known to you. Your pride swells. Your fear is a tremble that feels like a small orgasm.

Inside, you enjoy a Martini and your confidence grows. Every man is admiring your amazing body and every woman is either shocked or jealous. Pride rises inside you.

You follow me around for a few minutes and I am glad that everyone is impressed that I have such a classy and sophisticated woman by my side. You are much taller than me in your heels and I am particularly pleased that such a tall, athletic and confident looking woman is my slave.

You no longer worry about the difference in our height. I love showing off a very tall slave and you know it.

You "heel" demurely by staying just behind me and to my right as I walk among the guests. After awhile, you relax and you start having normal, intelligent conversations with some of the other guests and drifting around on your own. You have a second Martini and start to forget your place. So many handsome, wealthy men are fawning over you. They are flirting with their eyes and finding subtle ways to touch you. You know their dates are noticing and you don't care. You are the center of attention and you deserve it.

I'm shocked by your impudence. My slave is humiliating her Master! 

You see the look on my face and rush to stand before me, eyes downcast, hands behind your back. "Kneel" is all I say. Blushing and self-conscious, you cannot disobey. You know people are staring but you dare not look around. You are mortified and yet, deep inside your head, you are amazed to realize that submitting to me at this party is even more thrilling than the attention of all those men just a moment ago.

The pockets of my sport coat contain some things you had not guessed at. Quickly, I place a ball gag in your mouth and belt it tightly behind your neck. Then I attach your wrist cuffs to the front of the collar that you are wearing. A six inch chain and lock link your hands together up against the collar. I produce a leash, a short dog leash with heavy links in the chain and that gets attached to the D ring in your collar as well. "Stand" I say and you do. Despite two Martinis, high heels and your hands cuffed against your neck, you stand up very gracefully. Your grace and your full height which is well over 6 feet with the high heels is not lost on me. You are you beautiful but you still have so much to learn.

I pull up your tight dress so that your ass is exposed and everyone can see your tiny thong panties.

Your gorgeous ass at the top of those long legs attracts attention and I can see the pride in your eyes. "You still don't get it, do you?" So, I pull the leash through my belt in the center of my back so that your face is just 6 inches from my belt. Now that you are bent over, your ass is particularly exposed. You are pretty certain that one of your breasts has slipped out of the edge of the low cut dress. Your hands are trapped by your neck so there is no way to adjust your dress. The crowd is staring so I announce that we should continue with the party as normal. "Please, my friends, enjoy yourselves as before. My arrogant Slave is quite happy to be in this predicament and after all, she knows that her behavior brought this on. Just to reassure you, let's hear from my little slut herself....Slave, do you wish to be released from this position?" 

The room is totally quiet and everyone hears you say... "No Master. I forgot my place as your slave and I thank you for this opportunity to do better. I will do whatever is required to restore your confidence. Thank you, Master." You speak loudly and clearly because you are determined to regain your place as my very best slave.

I turn back to the crowd. "Well, now that this is clear, you should all feel comfortable to admire my slave's ass from as close as you like. Look at it, talk about it, spank it, scratch it. I believe that my slave may have offended some of the women here by flirting with your dates. I have a small riding crop with me for those women who feel they were offended."

You are mortified. Not just for the obvious reason. Your pussy is sopping wet and you are sure that everyone will notice if they look closely at your ass.

For the next hour, I wander around and get caught up with a number of friends and you, of course, follow me around very closely. You are bent awkwardly but your strong stomach and back and all that exercise makes it reasonably easy for you to follow me around in this position. 

Many men rub your ass and manage to incidentally rub your pussy. Some spank you. You even feel the crop a few times and it really stings. One woman scrapes your ass with her finger nails and then crops you hard. Your face is so close to my back that you can never really tell exactly what will happen to your ass next. I notice your moans through the ball gag but ignore them. You are particularly humiliated that you can't control your drooling because of the gag. Your thong is long gone. It had slipped out of place and some man simply tore it off.

All this time, people talk about your ass as if you were not there to hear. They talk about how it is turning pink. How nice some of the whip marks look. They laugh at your dripping pussy and joke about what a slut you must surely be to love this so much. You love every moment of it. The humiliation comes with the pride of being a slave and your predicament frees you from the complicated decisions of being free. In your heart, this is better than the moments before when you were the princess of the party. You have never been more certain that being my slave is right for you.

For all of this, even with your back starting to ache from being bent awkwardly for so long, you are amazed how hot your pussy is and you wish someone would rub it sufficiently for you to have an orgasm. (But, what you don't realize is that everyone in the room has been told that I will not share you sexually. They understand the limits of playing with your ass but you, of course, have no idea where this might go.)

I decide to sit down on a sofa. I quickly unlatch your collar from the leash, run the leash between my legs (it remains tied to my belt behind me) and reattach the collar with your face now in my crotch. When, I sit down, you are forced to your knees and your face is pressed into my crotch. The sofa is low and your legs are long so your ass is high and exposed. You can tell my cock is semi-hard inside my pants. For all that is happening, you wish more than anything that you could be sucking me.

You hear a man approach me who says, "Master Marx, I've got this wonderful new butt plug which is large as you can see, but once it is inserted it can be pumped up to almost twice this size. May I try it out on your slave?" "Why, of course, good friend, I would consider it a favor as I seem to have a slave who just doesn't yet understand her place. Go very slowly, I have only just begun her ass training so this will not be easy for her. I am sure I will enjoy the view from here."

My friend is a master of anal sex stimulation. I know that he will not touch you with anything except the fancy dildo which he is now covering with a thick coating of lubrication. With the gag in your mouth and your face buried in my crotch, your moans are suppressed. But, as he goes to work on your ass, you experience orgasms that come from so deep inside you that your entire body seems to clench and release. The feelings put you almost into a trance. You feel outside your body and deep inside your body at the same time. But all this time, your clitoris has not even been touched. It feels as hard as a pebble and as sensitive as a sun burn. As your mind returns to awareness, you can think only of how desperately you need to release the immense sensations of your clit.

My friend carefully and slowly extracts the dildo from your ass. A moment of relief is followed by an almost desperate sense of emptiness in your pussy. You need my cock inside you and me pounding you so hard that your clit explodes. But you get nothing yet.

I unlock your leash. Your hands are released and re-cuffed behind your back. The gag remains. I walk you to a corner of the room and tell you to stand facing the corner while I say my goodbyes. You are so close to the corner, your nipples touch the walls and you can see nothing behind you. Minutes go by and you quietly cry although you remain very still. You simply cannot contain the tears with the intensity of emotions pouring through you.

Just as you think your knees will buckle, I am back. I whisper things into your ear that make you feel wonderful. The blindfold goes on and we are soon in the car. Your hands are un-cuffed and the gag is removed. You nap briefly and before you know it, I walk you into your home and tell you that you have earned the right to have your Master stay for the night. Your heart swells but your pride is contained. You are learning your place and you love it.

We both strip and I sit in one of your chairs. Without a word, you fetch me a drink and then get on your knees in front of me with your forehead at my feet. Slowly you gain the confidence to kiss my feet. As I relax, your lips work their way up my legs kissing everywhere. You are hoping you will be allowed to go to my cock and suck it. You know you must go slowly, you must use only your mouth and never your hands. You make it. You are sucking me and I have not stopped you. I am getting excited. I grab your hair at the back of your head and start thrusting into your mouth. You keep your hands behind you offering no resistance. You know that I must never feel your teeth so you concentrate very hard at keeping your lips wrapped around my cock even as I thrust to the back of your throat. Gagging is expected but you take great pride in controlling that urge as best you can. You know that this is something you must constantly work at if you are to be my best slave. But, I do not criticize you if you gag. You catch your breath, apologize and dive back in as quickly as you can. 

When I cum you try to swallow every drop but it is impossible. So, you lick me clean and then return to the kneeling position with your forehead against the floor and your ass presented high in the air.

"Prepare your bed and wait for me" is all I say. You wash up, pull off the covers and lie naked on your back. You put a blindfold on yourself that completely blocks out the light. Your hands are clasped behind your neck with your elbows out. Your long legs are straight and spread eagled as wide as possible without being pulled apart by ropes. Your breasts feel heavy, your nipples rock hard. Again, the feeling of an empty pussy and a desperate clit becomes all consuming. You cannot see a thing and you know you must lie and wait. 

I come into the room. "Very good, my gorgeous slave. You are learning quickly. In the morning you will be harshly punished for your behavior at the party but tonight I will enjoy your pussy and allow you to cum. You are very special to me."

I get on top of you, you wrap your legs around me but keep your hands in place behind your head. I am deep inside you but hardly moving. You start to use every muscle in your stomach and hips and back to fuck me hard. Soon, you are sweating and panting. Without my help, you cannot quite fuck me hard enough to bring yourself off even though you are trying with every ounce of strength in your core.

I grab your wrists, bite your breasts and start to fuck you with all the strength in my body. Your clit is popping and your vagina is clenching me with spasmic contractions. I start moaning uncontrollably and explode inside you. 

Exhaustion overtakes us and we fall asleep in a gentle hug. Your last thought is that you will be punished in the morning. You think of that with trepidation but mostly you are excited because it is your next chance to prove that you are going to be the very, very best slave that Mazterlock has ever known.