5 comments/ 74645 views/ 2 favorites Pearls By: jthserra It was undeniable, Meredith simply stole the evening in her white gown, highlighted with a stunning pearl necklace. Everyone attending the gala noticed her, but none as much as Janis, her escort for the evening. Of course, Janis was not only her escort for the evening, she was her lover and since their recent visit to California, her spouse. Janis couldn't help but enjoy watching Meredith slither her slinky body through the people. Her small breasts, with incredibly erect nipples gave the gown the perfect curve, a curve intimated in the way the pearls luxuriantly cascaded into her hint of cleavage. The look was completed with the slight roll of the satin over her hips and tight ass. When Meredith moved it reminded Janis of the finest champagne quietly curling into a tall, crystalline glass. A certain amount of pride rolled through Janis as she watched people's heads turn, often in the middle of conversations, to watch Meredith. She smiled as the macho, hetero males eyed her, thinking what a waste for such beauty to ignore their manly gifts. Their wives and girlfriends patiently letting their men fantasize of this unreachable goal. Janis watched women turn their heads, a bit more wary of these; she remained poised to pounce if anyone got a bit too clingy. Of course, the most hilarious reactions came from the gay men, who seemed insanely jealous of this woman exhibiting the utmost in style. Checking her watch, Janis slowly descended the grand stairway as she moved to reel in her beautiful lover. Although confident that Meredith was only interested in her, Janis did keep her under the closest scrutiny and made sure they both went to bed early and together. Finally catching her arm, Janis whispered, "I think it's time we head on. I need to get up early and return those pearls to the jewelers." "They are so beautiful, I wish we could keep them." "So do I, but I am afraid these pearls are something we'll just have to dream about. We're lucky Joaquin let us borrow them." "We can't stay here any longer?" "It is getting late, besides, watching everyone here go crazy over you has turned me on," Janis whispered, trailing a finger down her gown to her nipple. A hush seemed to fall over the room as they walked out, arm in arm. Janis felt thousands of eyes fall upon her as she proudly walked out with Meredith. Arriving home after the short drive from the hotel, Janis pinned Meredith against the door as she stepped inside. Reaching up behind her head, she fastened her dress and slowly drew it down, exposing Meredith's small breasts. Pausing a moment just to look at the way the pearls dangled between those two incredible, but artistically small mounds, she then continued, finally letting the gown fall to the floor. Meredith kicked off her shoes and removed her panties and hose, finally standing naked before Janis, wearing only the pearls. Janis, without bothering to remove her own clothes, leaned onto her naked body, kissing down her neck to her breasts. The pearls bounced lightly off of her forehead as she moved her mouth from one nipple to the other. Kneeling on the dark marble floor, she moved her face down Meredith's stomach as she pushed her legs wide open with her hands. Nuzzling up to her lover's slit, she breathed in the heavenly fragrance as her hands clasped her ass. Meredith moved her hips forward as Janis slipped her tongue into her cunt and tasted her tart, wet flavor. Feeling the tongue slide from her cunt upwards to her clit, Meredith whispered, "Janis, push the pearls inside me, and pull them out slowly as you lick my clit." Pausing a bit at this odd request, the image of those pearls dangling out of Meredith's pussy was just too delicious to pass up, so she stood up, unfastened the pearls and kneeled down again. She slowly, as delicately as possible, began inserting the strand of pearls into Meredith's wet pussy, as her tongue circled her tiny clit. In a few moments, the pearls were inside the beautiful woman. Janis quickened her tongue on Meredith's throbbing clit as she slowly began removing the pearls. Meredith began moving her hips, grinding herself onto Janis' face, moving faster and faster. The strand of pearls was about half out of Meredith when she arched her back and violently bucked her hips. The sudden movement surprised Janis, making her lose her balance. She quickly clenched tight to Meredith's ass to catch herself, but then heard a strange clattering. Looking down she saw tiny white pearls bouncing all over the floor. Quickly pressing her palm to Meredith's pussy to keep any more from spilling out, she tried to round up the pearls that rolled on the floor. Meredith, realizing what happened, tried to calm herself from the inner quaking of her climax so she could help get the pearls. Moving her hand to the opening of her cunt, she replaced Janis' hand and then carefully tiptoed to a nearby chair. Keeping her hand in place she sat down. The floor was a dark marble color so Janis was able to round up the loose pearls that hit the floor without too much effort. Wanting to make sure she got all the pearls and to be sure she didn't leave any inside Meredith, Janis carefully pinched the fine nylon line that dangled from her pussy. Holding tight to the line, she carefully eased the remainder of the necklace from her lover's wet cunt. Carefully restringing the pearls that were on the floor, she slid the pearls up to where she pinched the line. This way, she knew that every pearl that came off the necklace outside of Meredith was accounted for. Now she looked closely at the rest of the strand and it appeared, all the pearls remained on the line except for three, which were apparently still inside. Glad Meredith was still quite wet, Janis slipped her fingers into her moist cunt and began chasing the pearls. She quickly retrieved two, then a third, and when she pushed two fingers deep inside her lover just for the thrill of it, she found a fourth. Reassembling the necklace took a bit of work because the line seemed tighter this time, but with some careful manipulation, she finally got it fixed. Delicately cleaning the last of Meredith's juices from the pearls, Janis surveyed them. Still stunningly beautiful, Janis was confident no one would ever know of their mishap. Or so she thought. A day after she had returned the pearls she got a call from the jewelers. Some secretary pertly asked Janis to hold for Joaquin. When he finally picked up he immediately asked about the necklace, "Janis, did something happen to the necklace when you had it?" "I'm sorry Joaquin, I didn't think you'd notice. The strand broke, but I got it repaired." "The repair is fine Janis, but one thing troubles me." "What is that?" "Well, originally the strand only had fifty pearls, now it has fifty one." "Are you sure Joaquin, you're sure it had fifty?" "Of course, and besides the fifty first pearl is very different, it's a cultured pearl, not a natural one." "But where could it have..." it suddenly struck Janis where the other pearl had come from. "You were saying Janis?" "Look Joaquin, I can pay you for any damages." "Oh nonsense Janis, I just pulled off that cheap pearl. I only wondered..." "Yes, I wonder too. I wonder too," Janis said. She had wondered what made Meredith think of putting the pearls inside her. Now she knew, she just wondered who it was dazzling her love with cheap pearls. A tear ran down her cheek as she hung up the phone. Pearls Her pussy dripped the entire ride over to the theatre. Her mind screamed to her in disbelief at what she was about to do, but her body dictated otherwise this evening. The man she had met on-line, and with whom she had conversed with these past several months and had seduced her so with his prose and his imagination, was finally coming to town for their first meeting. They had agreed to act out one of their many mutual fantasies and that is why she was dressed in only a long winter coat that was buttoned snugly to the neck and heels on this chilly December evening. Beneath the coat she wore only one accessory item, as per their discussions. Pearls. She was a natural beauty anyway, a forty-eight year-old whose toned body easily allowed her to model art-time, and that is where he had found her pictures to begin with. Despite the coat completely hiding her spectacular features to the neckline, she nonetheless attracted the attention of most of the male movie-goers in the lobby after she had purchased her ticket from the groveling teen at the admissions counter. She could have worn a canvas tent, such was the obvious lust in her eye and her intoxicating scent of sweet perfume mixed with the hormonal aroma of her arousal. She had been celibate by choice for well over a year, her only companion during her sexual sabbatical was a trusty vibrator that she had nicknamed "Bob", yet she knew tonight she was more than ready to end her self-imposed celibacy. She ached for cock, his cock, his strong cock, such had this man had seduced her mind, expanded her imagination and stimulated her latent desires. Now, she would reciprocate by willingly acquiescing to one of his sensationally erotic requests. And she would give him her body, to be used for his pleasure, and in return, she would enjoy the cock that she had yearned for. All in the quiet darkness of the neighborhood movie theatre. The tight, talented muscles of her cunt throbbed as she saw the correct movie at the end of the hall in this multiplex, the movie choice being a long-running and never-too-popular-to-begin-with film that was sure to be almost void of other customers. So that they could enjoy each other, in virtual privacy, but yet still very much in public. She dripped. Her nipples pulsed. She had never done anything remotely close to this, but she had also never been so aroused with sexual anticipation. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she entered and she looked up into the raised seating level of the amphitheater. She peered into the black for a few anxious seconds until she finally saw a silhouetted form near the top, where he had indicated he would be. Her heart thumped wildly as she traversed the steps, she could hear it beating through the coat, she could feel it welling beneath her firm, ample tits. She eased her body into the next-to-last row of seats and lowered her body into the seat next to him. She could not see him clearly yet, but she could smell him, a clean, musky scent emanating from his pores, her tactile senses heightened because of the reality of limited eyesight. He took her hand in his, firmly but gently, yet he did not turn to face her, not yet. he simply took her hand and placed it under the coat that was spread out on his lap, and she felt him for the first time, erect like steel but also velvety soft. And long. God, he didn't fabricate, if anything her was conservative in his description of his attributes. She gripped his shaft in her palm and emitted a barely audible moan. "Jackpot," she thought to herself, as a small stream of milky liquid seeped down her bare thigh. He reached around the back of her chair as the previews still were playing on the screen in the deserted theatre. He lifted his pelvis into the air so that she could feel his entire impressive length, and she purred as he lifted her hair over the collar of her coat and he began to softly press his soft, warm lips against the nape of her neck, tasting her, feeling her goose bumps rise on her creamy skin, and ever so slowly unbuttoned her coat, one button at a time, perhaps one every sixty seconds, lowering his face down her torso in conjunction with each button. When the coat was mercifully fully unbuttoned, he took it in both of his hands and opened it as wide as it could go, so that he could admire her incredible body in the soft illumination of the theatre. he faced her directly for the firs time, and she saw his face, the salt-and-pepper hair, the green eyes blazing with confident lust, and the smile. Oh, she melted at the smile. He leaned forward, tantalizingly slowly, to kiss her, but before he did, he grazed her body with the back of his palm, starting at her neck, cascading downward through the deep channel of her cleavage, pausing to run a finger around each areola, rubbing softly across her navel, and landing finally on the sensitive spot just above her mound and below her belly button, her secret erogenous zone. He had remembered. She trembled as his hand teased her skin, gliding one finger south to the wisp of her trimmed pubic hair, and she involuntarily gripped his thick dick in a vise-like hold, stroking and pulling it to impossible hardness. Their lips met, the irretrievable electricity of the first kiss, the first instant that two lovers' lips meet, and the erotic, passionate sensation shot streams of excitement through her entire being, causing her stomach to tremble in soft gasps. His hand lingered just above her slit, teasing her, and their tongues snaked into each others' mouths until he released their lips and he moved his head down to her heaving breasts, and he began to suck and caress and pinch and kiss and lick, the eraser-hard nipples responding to his expert administrations, her titty-hard-ons in full salute. His other hand still rubbed her mons and pelvic bone as she gyrated, trying to raise her pussy to meet his touch, but he did not grant her such pleasure. Not quite yet. His mouth continued its leisurely southerly descent as he crawled onto the floor in front of her, spreading her legs now, and his head disappeared beneath her coat, using it for a blanket, for cover. As his lips grazed her labia for the first time, she shuddered in ecstasy, and then felt the cold steel capturing her wrist on the armrest of her chair. He had handcuffed her! She squirmed in fear at first, such was the unexpected incarceration, and her hips bucked on his face, but she soon relented and surrendered to the incredibly gentle sensation of his lips gliding up and down, back and forth, then up and down, and then deep inside her engorged vaginal lips. She was the recipient of a tongue-fucking that she had never experienced, and tempered with the realization that she was handcuffed in a very public place while the man she had met only moments ago had his face buried between her legs and beneath her coat caused her to be on the verge of erupting in a massive explosion. She saw brightness in the darkness just before he slipped one finger into the top of her vaginal cavity, and she teetered on the brink of consciousness as she came and came. She awakened from the momentary departure to find him standing in front of her, dangling his turgid cock just inches from her face, and before she could reach for it with her free hand, he grabbed it by the base and slapped it onto her cheeks and rubbed it along her face. His length was such that it nearly enveloped her from forehead to chin. Before she could react further, he took the back of her head in his hands and stuffed about four inches of his big cock into her warm wet waiting mouth. She nearly panted from desire to suck him. She was completely in his control now, being face-fucked while cuffed to a chair in a public place, yet, strangely, she had never felt so safe. Nor had she ever been more turned on. Small torrents of her nectars flowed from within her cunt and oozed down her legs, onto the seat, into the crack of her ass. She loved sucking cock, she craved it, it had been so long, far too long, and she eagerly accepted his shaft down her throat inch-by-inch, grasping the thickness within her how mouth, sucking on the mushroom cock head, savoring the tangy taste of precum now dripping liberally from his hole. She sucked so enthusiastically as she wanted him to explode in her mouth, she loved the taste of cum, she wanted to feel the warm, salty liquid coat her mouth, but he wasn't ready to provide her with that satisfaction, again, not quite yet. He loosened his grip on the back of her head and placed his strong arms around her waist, lifting her off of her seat and high in the air, and he took her place on the suddenly vacated cushion, and he suspended her in mid-air for a few seconds until she had only one place to land. On his cock. She groaned loudly and spurted juices as he pulled her relentlessly down on his cock for a proper fucking, nothing subtle or tender, just a hard, rough, deep, vigorous fuck. Just as she needed. A hard fuck. He watched in admiration as her tight ass bounced up and down frantically on his swollen manhood, his big balls slapping against her butt with an audible, heavy thud on each descent, and he reached up to unclasp the only accessory item that she wore, other than her five-inch-fuck-me-stilettos. Pearls. As he fucked her reverse-cowgirl style on the seat, grabbing and pulling on her perfect tits as they happily bounced, he took the strand of magnificent Mikimotos and reached around her and rubbed the ivory directly onto her swollen clit, and she howled out loud, her screams echoing through he abandoned theatre, finally attracting the attention of the young college student in the projector's booth above, and he immediately began to extract his own young, stiff cock as he watched the beautiful woman's torso heave up and down in orgiastic bliss as the man finally tucked her cum-covered pearl strands into her mouth as he shot stream after stream of warm, thick cum deep into her sopping cunt, as she tasted her own cum on the pearls, wrapping her tongue around each small pearl and licking off her own cum. Yum. The young voyeur shot his own semen onto the projector booth window, unwittingly resulting in a surreptitious three-way mutual orgasm. Her lover then stood up quickly, and pulled his trousers on, flipping her two keys as she still lay there cuffed to the seat, moaning and still dry-humping away, silently pleading with her motions for more, more, more cock, please. These were the first words either had spoken the entire time. "One key is to release you. The other is for Room 1119 of the Ritz-Carlton down the street. Be there in a half-hour." He placed something else that was hard in her sweat-soaked palm before leaving the dark theatre, semen still dripping from his cock. "And, oh, yes, lest I forget, please wear your pearls. They go so nicely with that outfit." Pearls and Pussies The theatre was dark with a single spotlight centered on the two figures on the stage. It was the final act, and Jayne realized with a start, that she had missed most of the dialogue that had passed between the actors. Instead, her focus had been on the slow rhythmic sound of Steve’s steady breathing and the warmth emanating from his closeness. The faint masculine scent of his body teased her and flooded her senses with intoxicating arousal. She glanced surreptitiously at him. Her deep green eyes swept over his face then drifted down the seat, admiring again the strong line of his jaw, his finely chiseled features and his hard body clad in a tuxedo. “Stop it Jayne!” she chided herself. “You’re acting like a school girl.” Looking back towards the stage her mind continued it’s torturous debate. Yes, she was indeed behaving like a girl on her first date. This was so unlike her, not at all like the cool sophisticated woman she knew herself to be. It was not as though they hadn’t been out before. Since being introduced to Steve at a dinner party, they had chatted on the phone, had been out for lunch and had met for drinks. He was articulate, intelligent and had a wicked sense of humor. Jayne sensed though, that underneath his smooth polish and charm, there was a deeply sexual and perhaps even ruthless side to him. She had learned that he was in the film and television business, and she wondered idly how many hopeful starlets he had fucked in his life. There was no doubt in her mind that Steve was a worldly and sexually experienced stud. Truthfully though, he had always behaved in a proper and gentlemanly manner with her; even when he flirted openly and undressed her with his dark intense eyes. Jayne kept feeling that there was something different about this evening. From the time she had slipped in next to him at the back of the chauffeur-driven stretch limousine, she had felt an undeniable sexual heat between them. Her mind wandered back to the intermission when Steve had walked over to the bar to fetch drinks. She had noticed the way his body moved and how the tailored pants fit snugly over his tight ass. Her breath caught sharply at the memory of the long lingering look he had given her and the way his strong fingers casually caressed her hand as she took the drink from him. Jayne moved slightly in the seat, aware suddenly that she was feeling decidedly warm in her short black stretch velvet evening dress. She had chosen it carefully for their date. It was sexy but understated, showing off her curves and some cleavage, while leaving enough to the imagination. She crossed her long tanned legs and shifted restlessly, trailing a finger up to her throat where she felt her pulse point throbbing steadily. Then she let her fingers slide down, convinced that she would find a trickle of perspiration nestled between her exposed cleavage. The silky smooth skin between her breasts was dry, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. Steve looked towards her and smiled. “Are you okay,” he whispered, his hand brushing lightly against her thigh. “Yes,” she nodded, her skin burning from his touch. A shiver passed through her as she imagined Steve touching her body, using his tongue to pleasure her and to lick sweat and juice from her private crevices. A vivid image of his turgid cock fucking her seared into her brain. Jayne needed him to pound her deeply, to use her, to pleasure her and she wanted to be the most alluring, exciting and unforgettable fuck that he had ever had. Her pussy throbbed excitedly as she felt a deep stab of desire and the unmistakable sensation of spreading moisture. Oh God, she thought, my pussy is seeping already! A sudden burst of thundering applause jolted her out of her thoughts as the curtain dropped and the show ended. “I need to freshen up in the ladies room,” she said, as they stepped into the crowded foyer of the theatre. And regain my composure! She thought silently. “Sure, meet me up front, I’ll have the driver bring the car around,” Steve replied, flashing her a slow sexy smile. Cold water gushed over her hands and wrists as Jayne glanced at the reflection in the mirror. Her lustrous brown hair, flecked with natural red streaks cascaded around her shoulders. She barely noticed the wild fevered look in her green eyes and the deep red color that had flooded her full mouth. What was really difficult to ignore was the outline of her stiffened nipples poking obscenely through the sensuous texture of her dress. She ran her flattened palms over the top of the dress, straightening the fabric, but further arousing her already engorged nipples. This gesture did not go unnoticed by an attractive blonde woman who was applying lipstick at the mirror across from her. Jayne snapped her purse shut, just as the restroom cleared and she walked towards the door. “Excuse me, but can you help me?” the blonde woman called. “Yes, what is it?” Jayne replied, mildly irritated at being delayed further. “I can’t seem to get this damn clasp closed!” she said, turning the open clasp of a pearl necklace to the front of her neck. Jayne moved in towards the woman, took the clasp from her and concentrated on closing it. She could smell faint traces of a familiar fragrance drifting up from the blonde woman’s neck. “Ah, you’re wearing the new Gaultier perfume, I love it,” Jayne said, finally getting the clasp closed and locked into place. “And I love your hard nipples, they look good enough to eat…” the blonde murmured against Jayne’s ear. Jayne stepped backward, momentarily stunned by the woman’s words. “Look, I saw you and your hot, handsome date together,” the woman continued, “ And the two of you look so utterly fuckable that I've become aroused. I’m sorry but I couldn’t hold back confessing my feelings.” She grabbed Jayne’s hand and guided it under her own dress. “Here, feel!” Without thinking, Jayne ran her hand over the damp crotch of the woman’s panties and involuntarily slipped a finger under them. She felt the moist matted curls, the swollen slick pussy lips and the wetness seeping from them. The woman let out a low throaty groan as Jayne’s finger probed. “Why don’t you and your date take me home with you tonight and fuck me. I’ll pleasure you any way you wish. Please let me be your sex toy!” she begged, as Jayne removed her glistening finger from between the woman’s thighs. Jayne felt her own pussy contract violently. She couldn’t believe how erotic it had been to feel the soft inside of another woman’s hot wet cunt. The smell of pussy juice lingered in the air and Jayne had to suppress an overwhelming desire to taste and suck her juice-coated finger. Thoughts and questions crowded Jayne’s fevered mind. Her body was responding to the brazen slut’s suggestion, but could she go along with it? What would Steve think? And, what if this was some wannabe actress trying to get a couch audition? “Who are you! What’s your name?” Jayne demanded. “Kim,” the woman replied, suggestively running her hands over the swell of her breasts. “Are you an actress Kim?” “Hell no, honey this is no act. I’m very hot for you!” she laughed throatily, “But if you must know, I am in sales and marketing.” Jayne looked the woman over, appraising her closely. No, she definitely wasn’t one of those hopeful starlets, but she was sexy. She looked to be in her thirties, medium height with short well-cut blonde hair and blue eyes. Her low cut dress showed full rounded breasts and a firm toned body. Kim moved towards Jayne and boldly ran her fingertips over Jayne’s engorged nipples. “Come on, you know you want this as much as I do,” she whispered. “I’ll make you feel good, as only a woman can, and we can fuck him together. Let’s do it please!” she urged. Jayne hesitated for a moment faced with a dilemma. She was unwilling to share Steve , but she was acutely aware of the pulsing wetness and the familiar twinges inside her pussy. God, she actually wanted this! She needed this new experience, and she was certain it would please Steve. After all, she mused; it was a favorite male fantasy to have two women together. Her mind was made up. “Yes, we can do it!” Jayne said, her head spinning with wanton desire, “But, we “entertain” Steve, you don’t get to fuck him. Do you understand that?” “Mmm so we put on a show for him, and I get to fuck you, right?” Kim purred seductively. “Yes,” Jayne replied firmly, the heat rising from her cheeks. She consoled herself with the thought that Kim would merely be their fuck toy. “Now let’s get out of here!” Steve leaned casually against the polished exterior of the limo chatting to the driver. He smiled softly when he saw the two women approaching. Now this was going to be interesting, he thought, as he opened the car door. “Steve, this is Kim. She is having car trouble, a leaking engine or something. Anyway, I offered her a ride home. I hope you don’t mind,” Jayne said. “No, not at all,” Steve replied, looking Kim over as they slid into the plush interior of the limo. Jayne and Kim settled into the spacious leather seat with their backs facing the closed wooden panel, which separated the driver’s cab from the rest of the car. Steve took the seat opposite them and removed his tie as he offered drinks. “You may as well get comfortable, ladies, it’s going to be a long ride home.” He smiled and continued, “The driver mentioned that there’s been a serious accident downtown and the traffic has backed up heavily.” Kim slipped off her high-heeled sandals and stretched her legs along the seat, lightly caressing Jayne’s thigh with her toes. Jayne shivered slightly, took a deep breath and looked towards Steve. “So, tonight was the opening Premiere. Do you think the show is going to be a hot item?” she asked expectantly. Steve sipped his drink thoughtfully. His mind focused on the two women before him. His eyes glinted and he chuckled . “Well, one never knows, only time will tell,” he said, his eyes locking with hers. “But it seems to show promise. It has an intriguing plot, great setting and an alluring leading lady.” Jayne slipped her hand slowly up Kim’s creamy thigh, aware that Steve was watching her every move, his eyebrow slightly raised. “The leading lady is not very experienced though,” she said softly, her heart thudding in her chest. “Sometimes, the finest and most revealing performances come from the inexperienced…” Steve said, huskily, his eyes locking with hers. The sexual tension in the car was electric as Jayne moved Kim’s dress up to expose the blonde matted pussy hairs peeking through her black underwear. Overcome by the need to taste Kim’s moist cunt, Jayne hooked her fingers into the flimsy panties and ripped them off. She traced the outline of Kim’s wet swollen pussy lips nestling beneath a trimmed but full bush. Kim moaned deeply “Oh God, don’t tease me please!” Jayne glanced towards Steve and watched the crotch of his pants strain against his growing bulge. Her own pussy throbbed wildly, as she slid her thumbs down the length of Kim’s wet slit and back up the inner lips, obscenely splitting Kim’s juicy pink wetness for Steve to see. She heard his sharp intake of breath. He was riveted to what was unfolding before him. Jayne could not believe that she was doing this and how utterly amazing it felt. She reveled in a sense of total uninhibited lust, raw passion and newfound power. Excited by the knowledge that this was arousing Steve, she kneeled between Kim’s thighs and lewdly spread them apart, tentatively licking at the moist folds. Kim gasped as she felt Jayne’s tongue slowly dig into the hidden crevices of her cunt and lap. Jayne began to lick eagerly, with more pressure and she let the fullness of her tongue slide teasingly from Kim’s asshole up between her pussy lips to her throbbing clit. “Oh fuck yes! That’s it!” Kim groaned excitedly, “Lick it, suck it good baby!” Jayne continued her exploration, savoring the delicious taste and musky scent that was coming from Kim’s scorching cunt. She teasingly slipped a finger into each of Kim’s steaming holes while she captured Kim’s engorged clit into her mouth and began circling it with lazy strokes, then sucked it gently but firmly. This was the way Jayne liked to be eaten. Kim thrashed her head from side to side on the leather seat, moaning with pleasure. “Fuck me, Fuck me!” she screamed, bucking her hips, and pressing her pussy hard against Jayne’s mouth. Jayne looked up at Steve. He was sipping his drink slowly, watching her closely. “Finger fuck her Jayne,” he insisted. “Push your fingers into the slut’s cunt and fuck her!” Jayne slid two fingers deep inside Kim and immediately felt the ridged walls of Kim’s hot pussy gripping them. She thrust her fingers in and out, while still sucking on Kim’s swollen clit. Steve moved next to Jayne and pressed his lips to her ear. " Go ahead and pound her,” he hissed. “Yes, that’s it, Jayne, fuck the shit out of the whore.” Jayne gasped for air. Her mouth was buried in Kim’s sopping cunt, as she stabbed her fingers relentlessly into Kim. Steve’s crude language had aroused her to a new level of desire. Her own throbbing cunt screamed for release, as Steve’s words resonated in her ears. “Fuck her like you mean it! She's your bitch, Jayne, show the greedy cunt how you like to make use of nasty fucksluts like her.” Jayne grabbed Steve’s hand and forced three of his thick fingers into Kim’s pussy alongside her own. “Come fuck her with me,” she gasped, her own desire threatening to overtake her. Kim’s cunt stretched obscenely to take the new intrusion as the two sets of fingers slammed into her hot sticky depths and massaged her inner walls. Jayne used her thumb to strum Kim’s clit while Steve shoved his thumb into Kim’s puckered asshole. “God, this is so fucking erotic Steve, fingering her cunt like this, feeling you inside her,” Jayne moaned, as she watched the lewd display of carnal lust before them. Kim began to shriek with delight. Her face contorted with pleasure as her pussy convulsed around the wet thrusting digits inside her, spilling cum onto Steve and Jayne’s hands. Jayne pulled her fingers out and pressed them into Kim’s mouth to lick clean. “Here, taste bitch!” she hissed, her own mouth seeking Steve’s cum-covered fingers. Jayne licked Steve’s fingers clean and hastily unzipped her dress, letting it slide to the floor. Her pussy was on fire and she could no longer endure the waiting. Steve ran his hands over her firm breasts, and rolled the hard nipples between his wet fingers. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her body. “Steve,” she panted as she freed his raging hardness from the confines of his pants, “I need your cock so badly, I need to cum! Please fuck me now, bury it inside me please!” Steve pushed her head down towards his thick turgid cock forcing his hardness into her hot hungry mouth. Jayne wrapped her lips over the swollen head and used her tongue to trace the thick pulsing veins on his shaft. Steve let out a low guttural groan. His hands slid through Jayne’s silky hair as he thrust his cock deep into her mouth. She moaned, her mouth stretched to take every rock hard inch that she could. “No! Not yet!” Kim wailed, as she tugged Jayne’s lace thong off. “I want you first Jayne, I want to bury my tongue in your delicious cunt, he can watch you cum and then fuck you!” Exercising enormous self-control, Steve withdrew his cock from Jayne’s hungry mouth and undressed as he watched Kim’s hands caress Jayne’s body. Kim cupped Jayne’s pert breasts and sucked the nipples into her mouth until they were swollen and achingly hard. “Your tits and nipples are perfect,” Kim said, as she squeezed them and rubbed them against her own larger breasts. Jayne moaned deeply. The lavish tit sucking had caused a deep glowing ache in her cunt and the sight of Steve slowly fisting his rampant cock, just out of reach of her mouth was driving her wild. “Kim, eat my cunt now bitch!” Jayne demanded, as she writhed on the leather seat. She arched her back and pulled Kim’s head down to her throbbing pussy. Kim pushed her expert tongue through the drenched pink folds of Jayne’s smooth shaved cunt and lapped at her swollen clit. Jayne sighed deeply with pleasure. She had never felt a woman’s tongue inside her cunt and she luxuriated in this new sensation of a smooth mouth and soft lips eating her. Kim began a deep sucking action pulling Jayne’s clit into her mouth and nibbling it with her teeth, while Jayne gurgled and trembled with pleasure. “Oh my God, yesss!” Jayne moaned, as Kim’s middle finger snaked into her cunt and began to move from side to side. Jayne opened her eyes and glanced over at Steve. His cock was tightly gripped in his fist, a small drop of precum glistening at its tip. Moisture dripped from the corner of Jayne’s mouth as she salivated. She wanted to taste him so much. She needed the sharp tang of his precum on her tongue, the creaminess of his cum in her throat. Suddenly the sensations in her pussy changed as the warmth of Kim’s mouth and finger was replaced by something cold and foreign. Jayne sucked her breath in sharply as she felt Kim inserting the pearl necklace into the scorching hot depths of her pussy. The large round beads filled her tight tunnel with their cold smoothness and her pussy walls clamped themselves greedily around the hard milky jewels. Jayne trembled as the first wave of pleasure tore through her abdomen. She exploded in exquisite release as Kim hooked her tongue deep inside her cunt and lapped at her engorged clit while dragging the pearls out slowly one by one. The limo picked up speed as Jayne’s cunt contracted hard around the withdrawing beads. She gripped the seat and screamed with intense pleasure as her orgasm wracked her body. Steve moved his cock to Jayne’s mouth. Watching her unbridled enjoyment had aroused him madly. He was dizzy with raw scorching lust. His cock was pulsing and his balls ached. He had to fuck her now. Jayne dragged the tip of her tongue over his bulbous cock head and finally tasted that taunting drop of precum. She changed position, pushing Steve onto the seat and turned to Kim. “You have a good mouth and tongue, slut. I think I will permit you to suck him!” Steve stretched out as Kim and Jayne placed their lips on each side of his cock and slowly began to slide their hot eager tongues over his swollen shaft. He growled as their wet mouths licked and lapped, gliding up and down and tracing the bulging veins. Jayne moved her greedy mouth up to the top of his throbbing cock and slid her lips over the entire head. She took him deeply into her throat, savoring each rock hard inch and sucked hard, while Kim let her tongue slide over the base of his shaft and onto his heavy balls. They worked together, teasing him with their oral skills. Kim moved her mouth up the shaft and Jayne, using her tongue, transferred Steve’s cock head from her hot mouth to Kim’s warm and waiting one. Kim latched onto Steve’s cock and sucked steadily while Jayne rolled his balls beneath her soft lips and licked and nibbled the soft skin between them. Steve moaned deeply, enjoying the two mouths pleasuring him as each of them sucked and licked him in her own unique way. Their ardent mouths lapped and sucked every inch of his pulsing cock while their hands stroked his belly and caressed his ass. Steve felt the pressure building inside his balls. The tempo of the sucking had increased as Jayne and Kim passionately lavished his throbbing cock. Their mouths were close together fighting for possession of his throbbing cock head, both wanting to be the first to taste his creamy cum. Steve dragged his cock from their mouths and grabbed Jayne. “It’s time to fuck the leading lady,” he growled, as he forced her down on top of him, impaling her on his achingly stiff cock. Pearls and Pussies Jayne gasped as she felt his wet turgid cock finally enter her tight hot cunt. Her pussy muscles clamped around him as she began to ride his cock relentlessly, moving up and down, grinding her pussy onto him. He gripped her hips and thrust upward into her hard, penetrating her deeply. The sounds of their fucking and the pungent smell of sex filled the air. “ Oh yess! This is so good!” Jayne moaned. She strummed her clit and then slipped a finger into her dripping cunt for some pussy juice. She looked deeply into Steve’s eyes, stopped riding his cock and smiled. She clenched her cunt muscles around him and felt him throb responsively inside her. Then tantalizingly, she smeared some of the pussy juice over her stiff nipples and moved her glistening finger to his mouth to let him suck it clean. “Jesus, you are one horny teasing bitch,” Steve groaned, as he tasted her musky juice. “But now you need a good fucking lesson!” He moved swiftly, pulled her off him and bent her over onto the seat. He slid his finger into her seeping pussy and rubbed the juice between the cheeks of her bottom. “Kim, get under this teasing bitch and lick her cunt,” he ordered. “I am going to fuck the shit out of her luscious ass.” Jayne shivered at the tone of his voice. It was harsh and thick with lust. Her pussy tingled violently as Kim began to suck on her clit and reached up to spread her ass cheeks open for Steve. Jayne was pinned over the seat, vulnerable with both holes totally exposed. A shiver of anticipation shot through her as Steve forced two fingers through her sphincter and reamed her open. Jayne went crazy thrusting her ass against his digits. “This is so fucking hot, what we're doing now!” she panted. “Yes, you have a very talented and creative cast,” Steve said, as he pressed the head of his bulging cock against the raised ridge of her tight puckered hole and then forced it through her tight anal ring. A grimace of deep pleasure and desire contorted Jayne’s face as Steve began to fuck her. Her dilated sphincter wrapped around the thickness of his cock as he pounded her stretched asshole mercilessly. She pushed back eagerly against his thrusts, grunting with pleasure. Kim pushed two fingers into Jayne’s cunt, and massaged Steve’s cock through the thin wall separating Jayne’s vagina and ass. “Oh my God!” Jayne gasped, as she felt the awesome sensations in her cunt and ass. “This feels amazing!” She slid one hand down to her pussy and strummed her clit madly. “It looks fucking amazing too!” Steve grunted. Kim dragged her tongue up to the point where Steve’s cock was buried in Jayne’s ass and licked at his shaft as it thrust in and out of Jayne’s scorching bottom. “This slut is licking your ass juice off my cock, Jayne, she really is a dirty, nasty whore isn’t she?” Steve felt his balls fill and tense. His cock swelled inside Jayne’s raw bottom and he drove it in hard, almost ripping her apart with his savage thrusts. She groaned and shuddered as Steve erupted inside her, squirting a massive load of thick hot cum into the deepest recesses of her ass. Jayne cried out as her own thundering climax gripped and shook her. Her ass and pussy spasmed and convulsed, milking the last drops from Steve’s throbbing cock. Steve pulled Jayne towards him and kissed her tenderly, as the driver's intercom crackled to life. “Sir, sorry about the long time getting home. You wouldn’t believe how wild it’s been out here!” he said. “But we are almost at the entrance to Miss Kim’s apartment block. I should have you home in about ten minutes.” Jayne struggled out of the languid afterglow of her orgasm. She was sure she had just heard the driver say they were outside “Miss Kim’s apartment!” Steve knew her! Kim pulled her dress on and fastened the clasp of her cum-stained pearls. She slipped out of the car as it stopped at the curb, giving them a sexy wink and a little wave. The limo resumed its journey and Jayne turned to Steve. She was incredulous. “ Shit! I can’t believe it! You arranged this all didn’t you?” she spat, her eyes flashing angrily. “You set me up, you bastard!” Steve ran a hand through his tousled hair, looked directly at her and answered her quietly. “No, Jayne, I made sure that an “extra” was available, but you set the scene and you directed the action. It could have gone either way. It was your show!” Jayne felt a flush creep over her cheeks. He was right, she admitted to herself. He had sensed from the beginning that beneath the demure, ladylike image she projected, was a decadently sexual slut. Damn, he was sexy and sharp, no wonder he was so fuckable! “Yes, it was my show,” she said slowly, a sultry expression crossing her radiant face. “Now I can’t wait to get home to see how you perform during the encore...” Pearl's Anniversary Suprise It was our 7th wedding anniversary and we were meeting our married friends, Jack and Holly, for dinner. The cat calls began as soon as Pearl walked out the door. She was taking the kids to the sitters. “Whewww, Pearl, you look hot!,” blurted our neighbor Vikki. She did. A tight, black, leather mini-skirt (one size too small), sheer, black hose and 4 inch black heels. We arrived at Jack and Holly’s house. I was carrying the rum and Pearl was getting the stares. The black guy, whose house we were parked in front of, was taking out the trash when he saw her, clacking her heels on the sidewalk and throwing her ass around. He stopped mid-stride and gaped at Pearl’s juicy ass and primped legs. I caught his eye and I smirked. He hazily acknowledged my voyeuristic moment with a ghetto-nod, but couldn’t look away from that bait; he was in a trance. We walked in and announced ourselves. Holly called for us to “come upstairs.” Jack was just getting out of the shower and welcomed Pearl with a flattering “WOW!” Holly froze, flashed an approving grin, then told Jack to “hurry up!” Holly was more reserved and dressed as such. A festive colored, flowing dress. Neither she nor Jack could help but try for a glimpse every time Pearl sat, stood up or moved across the room. When she sat, the top, non-sheer portion of her pantyhose would peek out below her skirt. The way she wiggled and tugged to keep that skirt in place kept me hard all evening. Truly a sublime experience for me. The restaurant was small, cozy and served an exquisite meal. The rolling sounds of Louis Armstrong drifted in from the kitchen. I slid my hand between Pearl’s legs under the table to indulge myself. The charge I felt threatened to tear the inseam of my khakis. The table talk turned from politics and high school nostalgia to sexual innuendos and escapade stories. Stories that started like, “we once did it in the dressing room at Goody’s” and other such tales. We suggested hitting the bar down the street after dinner. They suggested we come back to their house. Their anxiousness was contagious and we wondered what they had in store. When we got back to the house, Pearl and Holly were feeling frisky; pinching and mock groping each other. They were also very drunk. To keep the party rolling, I was sent to the liquor store for more rum. Twenty minutes later, I returned. I set the booze down in the kitchen and wondered where everyone went. I strode up the stairs. Half way up I heard it. Pearl’s sweet moaning, Holly’s hushed but harsh commands and heels across the wood floor. “Put it in the air…such a good girl.” I reached the top in full view of the bedroom. Pearl was on the bed on all fours, bent on her elbows. Her big, hose covered ass propped in receptive position. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and her blouse unbuttoned. Holly stood beside her, gripping and tugging Pearl’s hair and spanking her ass and legs. Jack stood in front of Pearl with his pants down, stroking his cock. I approached the room when Holly promptly pushed me back in the hall and said, “not yet, wait in there.” She shoved me in the den and shut the door behind her. For 10 agonizing minutes I listened to my wife be handled and sexed like a whore. I needed to see. I barged into the bedroom to see Pearl, with torn pantyhose getting fucked doggy style by Jack and chowing Holly’s muff. She looked back at me with such submission, she had lost control and didn’t care what I thought. I was a mere distraction. She quickly got back to business. I reluctantly walked up to the bed and caressed her hair as she bobbed her head, lapping Holly’s cunt. Soon I was rubbing her writhing body. Holly hopped of the bed and pulled me in front of Pearl. What a view! “Slap, slap” as Jack drilled her from behind. She took me into her mouth and cupped my balls and gave me head like when we were dating. Holly snugged up behind me, running her hands up and down my chest and abs. Jack’s shakey voice told me he was about to blow. “Fuck it, YES!” He quickened. Pearl reached between her legs and rubbed her crystalline clit as only she can. Her back arched and stiffened. She drained Jack, “Oh fuck!” Pearl’s face contorted with her mouth gaped and eyes tightly shut. Her head hit the bed as she came all over his cock. “Gimmie that big cock!” She shrieked and pumped Jack’s prick in rhythm with her orgasmic waves. As she laid there, breaking a slight sweat, hair irresistibly tattered and milking every last drop from Jack’s cock, I erupted with a hot load onto Pearl’s face. A massive load down her cheek. She smeared it all over her face and tasted the salty mess with her fingers. I love my wife! Pearls Before Wine Redistribution: No restriction except that the story may not be changed/edited and the title, author's name and email, and request for feedback must remain intact. Queen Fanura smiled wryly as she looked up from the parchment in her hand. The runner who brought the message offered to interpret it into her language, but she had no need of translation. She read and spoke Corthon almost as well as she did her native Nurian. Her mother, Queen Afni before her, had seen to that by giving her the son of a Corthon warrior, one of the Queen's many lovers, as her playmate. When Faruna was twelve, she had taken the boy to her bed and allowed him to become him her first love slave. "Our neighbors to the North are ambitious, my dear. One day they may come calling. I want thee want to give them a proper reception," her mother had said. The carefully scripted words on parchment indicated that day she and her people had been preparing for had now arrived. She read the brief document again. _____________________________________________ Honored Fanura, Queen of the Nurians. Hail! Marius Portius, Emperor of Cortho sends thee greetings. Fame of the richness and splendor of thy realm, Nuria, has spread far beyond thy frontiers. It has come to my Imperial Knowledge that many enemies covet the prize of thy lands. I, Marius Portius offer thee the protective embrace of Cortho. Within the fold of my Empire, Queen Fanura, Nuria would be safe from the predators which round about her compass as wolves about the defenseless lamb. Thy ascent to our gracious offer thus cannot be doubted. In three days my armies will be at thy frontiers. In three more, at thy gates. Open then, the gates of Nuria to Cortho, as the thighs of a young maiden open to receive her lover. Make ready a banquet for the nuptials of our kingdoms. Hail! _____________________________________________ Ah! The insolence of the Corthon Emperor! "Safe from predators?" Indeed! The lamb that has been devoured need fear the wolf no more. "The nuptials?" Speak clearly, Marius! Thou meanest the subjugation of Nuria, our absorption as yet another insignificant province of the Corthon Empire, another source of gold and women. No, Marius," she smiled. "Nuria will not be an appendage to thy Empire. Nuria will fight thee, nay, vanquish thee as we did the Thrussians and the Sirtaphs before thee," she smiled, "and thou willst never know the battle has already begun." Fanura clapped her hands. "Run, Rini," she said to her serving girl, "call the High Priestess Dolphia and the other priestess from the Goddess's temple. I would see them in council." They had six days to prepare a banquet, even as the document had stated. More than enough for a night Marius and his men would never remember! ***** "Everything will be done, My Queen, even as thou hast spoken," Dolphia smiled confidently. "One of my priestess will be at each officer's side to lighten his heart and swell his member. The praetorians will be similarly entertained by the city's finest courtesans. I myself will accompany mighty Aldos the Strategeon. And of course Marius Portius is thine, My Queen." "What of the lesser officers and men who will not be at the banquet?" Fanura asked. "The women of the city have been informed, My Queen, and they are more than equal to that pleasant chore," Dolphia chuckled. "After all, we keep our husbands and brothers in happy subjugation and they KNOW our wiles. A few thousand foreign soldiers will be too happy finding out just how friendly Nurian girls are, to be troublesome that night, even without the Zuma we will infuse in their officers' wine." "The Zuma, have we enough?" Fanura inquired. "Enough and to spare," spoke up Munira, Dolphia's deputy. "The women of Azunia were so grateful for our assistance in putting down the revolt of their men that they have supplied us with seventeen cartloads of the finest leaf. They would send an army to thy aid, but beg leave for, in accomplishing their victory, most of their fighting maidens are newly with child. No matter, thy temple priestesses even now are extracting the essence. In two days hence we shall have enough Zuma to tame several barbarian armies," the young woman concluded proudly. Gassara stepped forward scowling. Towering over the priestess and even the Queen, the Captain of the guard commanded respect. "Do not underestimate these barbarians, my sisters. They are not soft and weak-minded like our Nurian men nor naïve as the Thrussians and the Sirtaphs. Their custom is to take pleasure from women, not allow themselves to be pleasured. And my spies tell me of a practice that makes them not so easy prey. Corthon men refuse to drink from a woman's self. Nor will they take a nipple into the mouth. They believe this to be penetration by the woman of the man and that a man must never be penetrated. So, my sisters, we will not be able to drug them with the Zuma-rich fluids of our sex," Gassara concluded. "This is grave news, My Queen," spoke Dolphia. "The Zuma in wine makes a man's mind soft and open to a woman's words, but only his repeated worship at her temple makes him fully her own." "Fear not, my sisters," Fanura replied. "These Corthons have never met women like us. What a man thinks and believes in the cool bright air of Cortho, may be very different in the warm thick vapors of a Nurian bedchamber. Somehow I doubt the Corthons will be able to distinguish between taking their pleasure and having it poured into them, when we make the semen to boil up in their loins. As for the city women, give each a pitcher of wine for her 'guest.' It will do our work even though the women understand not the power of Zuma. Go now and adorn yourselves, my lovelies. Let us make our visitors glad they have come before they regret it -- if they ever do," she added, to the gathered women's giggles. ****** Dressed in the finest of diaphanous silks that hid nothing of her full breasts and large dark nipples, Queen Fanura had watched the triumphant entrance of Marius and his officer into the palace precincts. Now, siting proudly upright she faced the Emperor as he slowly approached her portable throne. Her eyes fell on his narrow hips and broad shoulders. Glancing over at Dolphia, she smiled, wondering if the High priestess was making a similar appraisal of the rugged Strategeon. She could not refrain from comparing these beautiful male specimens to the thin and weak nobles of her court. She noticed Marius's large powerful hands and feet. "Large feet, large ..." she mused. None of the men in her kingdom, delightful as they were with their practiced mouth worship, measured up. Before handing the realm over, her mother had advised Fanura to bear a daughter as heir as soon as possible. Fanura, however refused to allow some effete son of a scheming baronesses who coveted her crown, to make her fat with child. "I may use this light-skinned barbarian as thou didst the Scythian ambassador to beget me, Mother," she caught herself thinking. "And they may serve my priestesses, as well." Fanura knew that Dolphia's and Munira's almost constant night play was more frustration with the inadequacies of their pretty-boy mates than real predilection for women on their part. Indeed, the extended visit of the barbarian army could be "very fruitful." Rising to meet him, Fanura was aware of a growing wetness between her legs. ***** "... In sum, My Lord Emperor, I, Fanura of Nuria welcome thee and thy men to our city," Fanura spoke evenly to the guests of the banquet. "Even thought we cannot conclude any treaty or conduct high business of state with ye during Thirteenth Moon Festival, we wish ye to remain as our guests throughout the joyous celebrations. In honor of the happy visit of thy Imperial Majesty we offer ye the toast of 'Pearls before Wine.' Hail!" At her word, the woman at each officer's side reached to her necklace and quickly removed one of the many pearls that adorned her neck. Fanura did the same and before the astonished eyes of Marius dropped the shining globe into his wine flagon as did all the other women. "What hast thou done, Queen Fanura?" Marius asked. "The pearls will dissolve in the wine; their beauty lost to the world for ever." "Not lost, My Lord Emperor, transformed to further thy glory and that of thy warriors," she replied. "And to cover the first taste of the Zuma," she discretely refrained from adding. After a few droughts, the tongue no longer detected the bitterness of the essence. "Now, let the banquet begin!" Fanura smiled, raising her goblet in toast. The feast proceeded as planned with platter after platter of delicacies, the flesh of exotic animals, fruits unknown in Cortho's colder climes, seafood from Nuria's southern coasts. Each dish was prepared with just a little more spice than necessary and Marius and his men partook liberally of the wine that never ran short. If they had been more attentive, they would have noticed that their flagons were refilled from different pitchers than those of their smiling tablemates. But the men's attention was already elsewhere. Except for camp followers, none of the men had been with a woman in weeks, certainly none like the exotic beauties now at their side: high cheekbones, gleaming ebony-smooth skin, hair that hung in hundred of tiny plaits interwoven with silver and copper-hue threads. The eyes of the men were assaulted with images of voluptuous black bodies, breasts that pushed against the flimsy upper body ties, bare waspish waists, and ample womanly hips. Though Dolphia and Fanura were more discrete, they noticed that Munira had already drawn the young aide-de-camp's hands to her rounded breasts and close-trimmed cunt. Fanura moistened to see how easily the youth was snared, how already he wore the adoring gaze of a Nurian pussy-slave. "The hospitality of Thy Highness surpasses even the fame of thy beauty," Marius said as he toasted Fanura yet again. "My Lord is too kind to the Queen of a small people," Fanura replied with downcast eyes, but she read in Marius's gaze more that empty flattery. He was smitten. As well he should be. Her garment was of sheerest silk and wound so as to display her ample breasts. After the first goblet of the drugged wine, the Emperor's eyes seldom traveled far from those dark mounds except to gaze deeply into her darker eyes. Fanura noticed a massive bulge beginning to show itself beneath his tunic. That was good; she had plans for it. "By the time I finish softening it, Marius thou willst have taken the first steps to thy certain enslavement" she mused. It had been a day of surprises for the tired Emperor. Fanura smiled, remembering her powerful visitor's amazement when he first saw her. Apparently, his intelligence had not informed him to expect a woman of her youth and beauty -- and black! Nor was he prepared to be greeted in capitaline Corthon without the whistled "s" that betrayed the Emperor's own provincial origin. The luxury of the banquet brought further amazement and she watched with amusement as Marius's face reflected the gradual shift from arrogance to mere contempt, to acceptance, to admiration, and now fascination with his scantily-clad hostess. As the night wore on, a large torch-fire was lighted in the center of the couches and lust-inducing incense was thrown onto the coals. Marius and his men reclined into warm arms and soft breasts around the circle and pretty, flirty serving girls continued to bring around plates of food and flagons of wine. Aldos's captains, vanquished by the incense and visions of large, soft breasts, already lay in the arms of their diner partners who stroked their manhood and whispered promises of a night of passion. The torch burned down and a pounding drumbeat gradually grew louder. The serving women were now bringing more drink than food and their clothing had grown skimpier. Large unencumbered breasts dangled in front of the men's eyes as the women leaned down to refill their drinks. The loincloths barely covered their provocative little pussies. And when a girl stood close enough to a seated man, he couldn't avoid smelling a cunt in heat. Fanura saw her women titter and whisper to their happy guests, making sure their wineglasses remained filled. The men grew tipsy and boisterous as their tablemates teased them. Fanura smiled, seeing Aldos besieged by Dolphia's kisses, the lush body she pressed against him, and the wordless invitation to open her tie and fondle her breasts. Fanura wondered if the experienced warrior even realized he was under attack, that the beautiful woman at was using her voluptuous body as a weapon to enflame his passion, cloud his mind and overturn his will. She could almost see the Strategeon relax, no longer resisting the charms of the High Priestess. His reason was helpless against desire for the woman and in a moment of weakness the warrior allowed a small soft hand to invade his tunic and take possession of his manhood. A stronger man than Marius, if there were one, might have seen it, too, and detected the danger as one by one his men were conquered by the charms of the women they had come to conquer. But Marius saw nothing save Fanura's gleaming breasts and flashing eyes as she wove her own spell around him. Seeing that all was in readiness, Fanura gave the signal. Suddenly silence welled up like a cobra rising from its basket. At the sound of a gong, each man's companion leapt into the circle and positioned herself in front of her partner. Talking, laughing, and ribald remarks ceased as a temple priestess began to writhe slowly before each man, her movements in time with the imperceptibly accelerating drum. The officers were riveted by the swaying of the women's hips and bouncing breasts, none more than Marius himself by the beautiful Fanura. She was taller and a little older than the others. But what she lacked in youth, she made up in a steamy sultriness. Like the others, she had a bright silver disk dangling from her neck in front of her large round tits. Marius could not take his eyes off of those tits and so he stared too, at the shining, flashing disk. As the dance accelerated, each woman inched closer to her prey, forcing him to look up at an uncomfortable angle at those wonderfully round, bouncing boobs. The drum was louder now, as well as faster, and filled the ears of the transfixed men as the flashing disks filled their eyes. Slowly, Marius and his men were falling into the power of the Queen and her court. Now the drum grew still louder and the rhythm more frenetic. The dancers ground their hips in the faces of the men whose stares had become glassy, their bright blue eyes growing dim. Equally noticeable were their hands. Quite unconsciously, the men had begun to slowly stoke their rigid cocks. Suddenly the drum and the dancers stopped. The men hardly reacted, so deep was the spell they were under. Perfect! Yet Fanura noticed a bit of light creep back into Marius's gaze. He was a strong man, a willful man, and not an easy man to tame, by the looks of it. Slowly, as if trying to awake from a dream, he began to look around him. The priestess-dancers had fallen on his entranced comrades. Even mighty Aldos had succumbed, lying cradled in the arms of the busty Dolphia, mindlessly nursing her firm breast, his eyes closed in a docile, beatific smile as she stroked his penis preparing to mount him. His own aide-de-camp's head was thrown back as he sucked the pussy of Munira who kneeled over him, slowly jacking him off. Two others -- Marius couldn't see who in the dim torchlight -- were lying with their tunics up around their waists, their heads lolling, as two smirking women methodically rode them toward orgasm. Like a lonely, cornered animal, Marius instinctively sensed the danger and poised for battle. Fanura looked down at him and saw his partially successful efforts to throw off her spell. Her nostrils flared to think of the powerful mind as well as body that soon would be hers. Immediately, she stepped forward, dropped her skirt, and thrust her crotch in his face. The scent of the hot Nurian pussy of the young Queen must have hit Marius with the force of an assagai. Fanura watched Marius fight the powerful aroma of her rank, dripping love slit. Marius was no longer looking around at his vanquished followers; he was staring straight ahead, perhaps unwillingly, straight into the wet, bushy pussy in front of his eyes. Fanura looked down at the big man, aroused but amused. She could see the foreigner's resolve weakening as her body worked it's enervating magic on his brain and loins. "Look long, Marius," she thought. "Breathe deep of my musk and let it dissolve your will. Taste me and yield." Little by little she saw the helpless warrior overcome by the one instinct that could overpower both the anger that lead to resistance and the fear that lead to flight: lust. "Do mot resist, My Emperor. You thirst for me. Drink," she commanded. In a desperate effort as if to ward off the enchantment, Marius brought up his hands, as if to shield his eyes from the bewitching sight before him, as if to push away the tempting vision that held him fast. He stretched them forth and -- with a lunge -- seized Fanura's round ass and buried his face in her warm womanhood. A shout of acclaim went up from the watching women as the barbarian leader succumbed at last to the wiles of their Queen. His bravery, his intelligence, his iron will were useless against the lust that melted his judgment and undermined his resolve. The Queen allowed the slavering man to fill his mouth and nose with her lust-inducing juices for several long minutes, then dropped them both to the couch placed nearby for that purpose. As Marius lost himself between those dark, delectable thighs, nimble fingers removed his clothes and the Queen began stoking his hardened prick. Long into the night Marius roared his joyful defeat. ***** At an early-morning meeting of her Council, Fanura looked around at six contented, if somewhat tired and disheveled women around the mahogany table. "Did all go as well as your faces tell me?" Fanura smirked. "Indeed, My Queen," reported Dolphia. "The men are all still sleeping. A whisperer will be sent to each to fill his mind with lustful thoughts. She has at hand a sleeping potion if her charge should stir. No man will leave our beds until he is our mindless slave." "No, Dolphia. I do not desire that they be taken thus. If our foreign guests disappear into our palace too suddenly, the remaining troops may become restless. Remember, our sisters in the city can only entertain the army. They are not skilled in the use of Zuma and we cannot let them use it in the powerful mixtures as we do. It can be many months before the soldiers are so besotted with weak Zuma and soft bodies as no longer to prove dangerous to us." "What then wouldst thou have us do, My Queen?" Dolphia frowned. "Our spell upon them is well begun. Shall we now allow our captives to slip from between our fingers -- and our wet thighs?" Dolphia added with a chuckle. "Nay, my clever minions," Fanura replied with a smile. "Our new foreign friends will not escape from our skilled hands nor our lusty loins. It is a foolish fisherman who pulls hard on the line when the fish has just begun to nibble. Play with thy catch until thy tender hook is set deep into his mind. For now allow him to awake each morning, but with only foggy memories of a night of unspeakably intense pleasure. I trust ye had no difficulty with that 'chore.'" "It is even as thou sayest!" Munira blurted out causing the older women to giggle at her enthusiasm. "Lucas may be a barbarian, but he is skilled in wielding his manly weapon. I have never passed such a night. He brought me unto a woman's pleasure nigh unto a dozen times." "'Lucas' is it?" Fanura teased her young companion. "Methinks were it not for the Zuma in the drink of the Emperor's aide-de-camp, thou wouldst be in HIS thrall." Munira blushed and the other women tittered before Fanura continued. "'Tis well, Munira. Cortho is our enemy, not thy Lucas or any man who lies in our beds. Take thy pleasure from the youth. Thy sisters did the same. Their quarters are not so far from mind that I did not hear THEIR joyous cries last night." Fanura looked around grinning at the other women whose embarrassed silence confirmed her words. "I did even so with the Emperor. His weapon is strong and thick, but fortunately I have a sheath that is the equal of it." All the women smiled and nodded. Pearls Before Wine "We want our guests to tarry long with us. Let us make their stay here a pleasant one. I shortly will awaken the Emperor Marius with a delightful surprise. Do ye likewise. Later today I shall be showing him the sights of our beautiful city. I do not doubt he will wish to share my bed again tonight. In fact, I suspect he will not wish to wait that long to drink again from my private temple and allow me to melt the steel of his weapon in my furnace. If anyone should venture to the palace gardens this afternoon," she grinned, "please do not let thyself be seen." ***** Fanura judged well when her unwitting captive would awaken and she was at his side when his eyes fluttered open. "What...? Where... Oh, oh!" Marius moaned. Then he saw the beautiful young black woman smiling down at him. "Good afternoon, My Lord, the Emperor," Fanura smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. "OH, my head!" the Emperor moaned. "What? What happened? "I fear thou didst partake too liberally of our Nurian wine. As for later ... Surely My Lord has not forgotten last night. I never shall! My Lord was magnificent!" Fanura's flattery was purposeful, but not insincere. She had indeed come many times on the barbarian's thick cock. The Zuma weakened only his will; it fortified and stimulated his body. "Thou didst slay me with thy spear and gladly was I slain! Never has any man filled me as didst Thou. Aye! My Lord!" she gasped, her eyes widening in partial surprise, "I scarce can believe my eyes! Thy weapon is again ready for battle." Marius winced at her words. Fanura knew he was well aware of his erection, an inevitable result of seeing her firm breast and hard nipple just inches before him. Aware, but not pleased at that moment. As his large penis throbbed to life, so too his head throbbed with pain. He moaned again, partly with arousal, partly the ache in his forehead. "Thou art in pain, My Lord. Here, take this potion; it will assuage thy distress." Marius shook his head, "'Tis nothing." Fanura smiled and persisted, pressing a goblet she had prepared to his lips. It was sweet to his tongue and he drank. "Yes, My Lord, drink it all. It will cause thee to sleep and thy pain to cease." "Sleep again? But I have just awakened. The day is well begun. My officials will expect me at noon for Council," Marius protested. "Ah my brave, noble Lord," Fanura smiled. "Do not concern thyself for them. Thou didst not battle alone last nigh. I heard Aldos slay Dolphia many times, last not long before dawn. Thy Council can wait." "Nay, Queen Fanura. Duty is everything for a Corthon. We cannot allow the weakness of the flesh to deflect us from our appointed tasks." "It is as I feared, My Lord. Thy strong will is preventing the potion from giving thee its balm. Rest thy head on my bosom and I will make thee to sleep." "I must ... not" Marius replied, struggling not to pillow his head on the Queen's perfect breasts. Fanura could see the potion beginning to make his eyes heavy. She would help him down the path to sweet oblivion. "My Lord, it is thy weapon, drawn and ready for battle that does not allow thee to sleep. Let us battle again as we did last night, thy sword and my sheath. Gladly would I have thee conquer me again!" And before the drowsy and aroused Emperor could react, Fanura had straddled him and positioned her moist cunt lips at the tip of Marius's engorged cock. "My sheath awaits thy mighty sword, My Lord." "Fanura! No! This cannot be! A Corthon man never allows a woman to ..." A gasp of pleasure cut short his protest as Fanura lowered herself over the helpless man's stiff cock. Slowly as first she began to ride him. "Speak no more, My Lord. Let my sheath upon thy sword ease thy pain. Aye, thy manhood is too hard; let me make it soft for thee. Yea, My Lord, thrust deep and I will warm and please thee. Deep, My Lord, my sleepy Lord. Loose the hold on thy body, My Lord. Let me take thee deep. Release thyself into me, My Lord, deep into me, deeper and thou willst sleep. Release, My Lord and sleep. Release ...release ...RELEASE!" Fanura had felt his orgasm building and his consciousness sink beneath her whispered words. With a final twist of her shapely hips and a clinching of her cunt muscles she triggered his climax. Surprisingly, the flood of his hot seed released an irresistible warmth within her, too and she came, collapsing on his hairy, heaving chest. It was several long moments before she was again in control of herself, but no harm was done. The Emperor was safely entranced a faint smile on his face. Amazingly, his thick cock was only now deflating. Fanura let herself relax, enjoying a few more minutes in the Emperor's strong, though now limp, arms. She was aware that his penis still dammed up her pussy, not allowing his thick sperm to drain out of her. It was a pleasant sensation and stirred a feeling of tenderness for her imperial captive. Her pussy twitched at the thought of what could result if they continued to "battle" thus and she were incautious. Since she had become a woman, her mother had taught her to drink a potion of Mea every morning on three weeks of each four. "Do so and THOU, and not thy need for a man, canst decide when and with whom to have a child," her mother had advised with a knowing smile. Fanura employed Mea, as did most of the elite of the Nurian women. Now she was beginning to wonder if after twenty-five springs, the time was not approaching to put in practice the other part of her mother's advice. ***** The treaty of accession was to be signed on the first day of the month after the New Moon festival. The rains had ceased, yet the harsh dry heat of summer had not yet come upon the land. The sun shone merely warm on the lush landscape around them. The treaty was being signed on the portico of the temple of the Goddess overlooking the newly whitewashed city below and the green valley and fertile fields beyond. Originally scheduled for the fourth hour, the ceremony had to be postponed until noon, as Marius and his men had greater difficulty than usual in arising from the soft beds and softer arms in which they slept. "Ladies," Fanura had told her council the night before, "I intend to see that Marius has an especially good and strenuous night, sleeps deeply in my arms, and arises tired and happy. Do ye likewise." All was in readiness as Queen Fanura and her council of priestesses met Marius and his council of warriors. An official of Corthon palace protocol would have been surprise that rather than sitting on opposite sides of the long table, Corthons and Nurians sat side by side. Yet is seemed quite appropriates to the Corthon men, who only an hour or so earlier had been entwined in the arms of their lovely companions. The formal toasts over, Marius arose to speak. Fanura smiled reflecting that unlike the banquet a month ago, no pearls were needed to disguise the Zuma in the wine. The men no longer noticed the drug and indeed, would have felt quite uncomfortable were it not supplied. "Queen Fanura," Marius said, trying to sound severe with the woman whose bed he had so recently shared. "There appear to be changes in the treaty. It was crafted by our legal scribes and was carefully considered by the Corthon Senate. No change is possible." "Aye, My Lord. I asked that a few clarifying words be added in the spirit of thy invitation to join the Corthon Empire. Thou didst ask us to 'open our gates as a maiden does her thighs to her lover.' I believe My Lord will agree that we have opened to you more than our gates." The men looked embarrassed as the women at their sides giggled and snuggled closer. "But this treaty states that no legions, save the Emperor's guard will be posted in thy land," Marius pointed out. "True, My Lord. Now that we are wedded to the Empire, no enemy will dare attack. Thy legions will be freed to defend thy northern marches. We can deal with raiders as always." "Aye, My Queen, but internal order?" "Does the bridegroom send armed servants to watch over his bride, My Lord? I dared hope that My Lord would do his own watching," Fanura smiled. Marius was not sure if it was an accident, but at that moment his eyes fell on Fanura's ample breast and he could not suppress a noticeable stiffing of his prick. "But my Queen, soon I will return to Cortho. Business in the capital demands it." "Speak not of thy leavetaking, My Lord. Cast me not aside as Aeneas did poor Queen Dido. The marriage of Nuria to Cortho is but consummated and the honeymoon is not yet begun. Stay yet the season. Surely thou dost not wish to return to Cortho just as the cold rains and bitter winds of the North sweep thy capital." "But the Senate will be expecting a report and the first tribute." "Report the plain truth; the capital is wherever the Emperor lays his head." Between my legs, drinking from my womanhood. What better place for the capital of Cortho, Fanura thought, suppressing a smile. "Do not thine own laws say thus? As for gifts, My Lord, with thy permission, I shall send each Senator, Tribune, Praetor, and Pontifex the finest fruit of our land, a Nurian maiden for to wife with a rich dowry." Fanura smiled at her words. Yes, the Nurian women would take dowries that included many large flasks of the Zuman essence. Perhaps next year when their new wives became "homesick" for their native land, a goodly number of Senators and other high officials would join their Emperor in Cortho's new Southern capital. At each clever reply, Fanura saw the Zuma-addled heads of the Corthons nod ascent. "Set, then, thy hand to the treaty, My Lord, and let the marriage celebrations begin." She smiled over that the Emperor who was gazing at her almost in adoration. As she placed a quill in his hand her other hand found his manhood beneath his tunic, squeezing gently. "Tarry here with me, My Lord," she whispered. Marius's doubts and objections floated away. He certainly did not want to feel the miserable cold of a Corthon winter. Less did he wish to leave the bed of this delightful woman who filled his nights and days with pleasure beyond his previous imaginings. Carefully he appended the initials to the document - C. I. M: Corthun Imperator Marius. ***** The heat of the dry season arrived making it difficult for Marius to conduct Imperial business around mid-day. Not that he conducted very much at other times. Marius held Imperial court only during morning hours, hours that grew shorter and shorter as the Emperor, exhausted by long nights of vigorous lovemaking with Fanura, arose later and later. Should he awake too early, his shapely black mistress would hurry back to his bed to take his cock into her warm pussy and to send him back to sated sleep. With the heat, Marius and his men were introduced to the delightful custom of siesta after the mid-day meal, a custom made more delightful still by their company in bed. Marius and his men took their noon meal with Fanura and her court. They were always quite drowsy when it was over. One by one each was led away by his lovely companion to a separate bedchamber. Marius could hardly object when his beautiful mistress put him down for his nap. There, beneath pukahs moved by naked servant girls, Fanura took him to her bed and let him suckle her breasts until he was moaning with arousal. Then she mounted him and sent him off to sleep by riding him to a volcanic climax. With the daze (and days) of sex, Marius did not realize that more and more Imperial affairs were transacted in his name by Fanura and her court. She now wore the imperial Signet. It had been thus since the the arrival of the Santhian Ambassador. News had reached Marius in Fanura's chamber just after a long slow siesta session with Fanura that, as usual, had left the Emperor limp and happily drowsy. Fanura gave his eyelids a little kiss and offered to attend to the matter. It had not seemed proper, but after making love to Fanura, Marius was in no condition to refuse his lively young bedmate. As he drifted off to post orgasmic slumber, Fanura slipped off his ring and scurried to greet the visiting dignitary. When Marius remembered to ask that she return it some days later, Fanura teased him, "Oh, does My Lord not have more urgent business to conduct here?" drawing aside her short tunic and inserting her fingers into her ever moist slit. "Is this not the taste," she asked placing her dripping fingers in his mouth, "of a woman in dire need of thy sword. Come to my bedchamber, My Lord and slay me. I have need of the sweet death thou bringest." It was more days before Marius thought again of the ring and them only to realize he didn't really need it. As Fanura spent more and more time on Imperial business, she began to allow her servants to keep Marius sated and happy. She first brought Rini to their bed, stoking his vanity by telling him he was "too much man for one woman." Eating Rini's ripe young puss as Fanura rode him sank Marius into stupor before either woman was fully satisfied, but Queen and servant knew how to solve that problem. When he awoke to find them making love, it aroused him enough for the two women to exchange roles: Fanura gave her sex to the Emperor’s mouth as Rini rode his cock. Gradually Marius accepted Rini and then others into his bed during the long afternoons. Sucking their soft breasts and allowing them to ride him to orgasm, had the same soporific effects as did their Queen's ministrations. It was exhausting trying to satisfy so many pretty women and his attention to Imperial business suffered still more. As the summer drought burned the landscape to dull brown, a challenge arose. The wild tribes of Zaria in the West were causing increasing trouble. A decisive blow was called for, but Fanura did not wish to rouse the Emperor from the lethargy she had carefully crafted. The danger, she decided, could become an opportunity and set a plan in motion. Several weeks later a Corthon messenger reached the palace with news from the frontier. Fanura was summoned. Leaving the Emperor in the post coital bliss of an early morning hand job, she rose and persuaded the messenger to refresh himself before delivering the message to the Emperor. The young man's "refreshment" in the arms of two temple priestesses gave Fanura time to complete preparations. When the messenger, exhausted by the ardent priestesses, stumbled into the imperial chambers, the Emperor was lying breathless beneath the Queen, having just come most satisfyingly up into his royal lover's warm wet pussy. "Grave news, sire! The Zarians have attacked Quoma. The Nurian defenders fled and many women were taken away." Fanura smiled secretly. The Zarians had taken the bait. A few years with these Nurian temple prostitutes disguised as peasant women would tame the tribe, but meanwhile for form's sake, they must be chastised. "Villainy!" roared the Emperor, trying to arise from beneath the young woman. "Guards! Bring my armor. Bring my sword." The unaccustomed exertion told on the Emperor who was growing flabby from too much food, wine, and sleepy lovemaking. "Do not concern thyself with these Zarian raiders, My Lord," Fanura smiled and pushed another goblet of wine into Marius's limp hand. "I shall deal with these swine in thy name. Thou hast more important matters to attend." "My Queen, it is not meat that thou shouldest deal with affairs of arms while I remain always within thy palace. Of what 'more important matters' couldst thou speak?" "The most important matter of all, My Lord," Fanura smiled. "I have brought thee the daughter of a powerful prince and, if I err not, she is ripe this night for thy potent seed." "What? Thou wouldst that I remain behind to breed a foreign wench while thou leadest our soldiers into battle?" "The woman is Rotha-Na, from Parthia, My Lord. The old King is without heir. Make his daughter's womb swell with thy man child, and another kingdom will be mine, er, thine." "Can I not service her another day? I would smash these insolent Zarians with mine own strong hand!" "Strong it is, My Lord, but stronger still the weapon thou wieldest here, in thy loins! Lo, I feel it stir mightily!" the wily woman said, placing her hand on Marius's cock. "Fa -nu -ra!" he groaned. "Yea, My Lord, the sword of thy strength is ready. Plunge it into the girl's belly and make her thy concubine." The Queen clapped three times and two serving girls led in a tall dark beauty with almond eyes, struggling to break free. "Look on her My Lord. See the proud breasts, breasts that thou canst make heavy with milk to give suckle to thine Imperial Offspring. See the wide womanly hips that shall bear thy child. Dost thou not think her comely? Aye! Thy sword leapeth in mine hand." "But is this not the one brought in chains, but days ago?" Marius asked, unable to take his eyes from the gorgeous woman. "Did she not cry aloud that she would never consent to be my mate?" "Indeed she is the one, My Lord, but she is but a woman. Her mind is weak and her body is susceptible to the potions and philters of thy priestesses and enchantresses. She has been with them for these days. Now she burns with lust for thee. Even now her temple weeps with the joyful anticipation of thy manhood. Lie with her until the new moon and thy seed will find its fertile field. Make her belly grow fat with the fruit of thy loins." "But Fanura, Th... th...," he swallowed as his eyes feasted on the scarcely clad maiden in front of him, unable to formulate his sentence. "Zarian raiders?" Fanura finished his implied question. "My Lord, surely thou willst not let this beautiful flower wither on account of a few Zarians who are foolish enough to defy thee." The Queen lifted one of the thin veils that barely hid the young woman's charms. Her own ebony skin contrasted with the alabaster thighs of the Queen's imperial captive. "My Lord, thy humble servant will rid us of this Zarian nuisance. Thy Empire and thy people need the issues of thy potent loins to remain strong." With a tap of her hand, she made the writhing young woman spread her thighs a little. "Behold My Lord, this ready vessel. The high priestess assures us she has never born fruit. At thy command my serving girls will ready her that thou mightest pour her full of thy potent liquor. "But how knowest, my Queen, that the time draweth nigh for conception? Perchance we shall return and she be yet ready." "Ah, my proud Lord! I am a woman and I know the signs of a woman's body when it crieth out for child, but verily, I pray thee, prove my words." Fanura nodded to the woman. "Shew thy readiness to My Lord, wench!" she commanded. The servants released the writhing girl and Marius suddenly realized her struggles had not been to escape, but to fling herself on HIM. In a twinkling, she had flown to the couch where Marius reclined and had thrust her pussy into his face. Before he could think of resistance, her musk had overpowered him and Marius began to lick the copious intoxicating fluids that leaked from her vagina. Fanura smiled as she saw Marius loose himself between the young woman's ample thighs. "Taste and prove, but carefully, My Lord, lest the potions she has been given affect thee, too. Do not drink too deeply of her flowing fount or the desire to breed will overtake thee as it has her." Even as Marius ate the aroused woman, Fanura was slowly stoking him. "Aye! "Thy sword is drawn and ready. My Lord is too generous to his concubine, to pleasure her in this way. Wouldst My Lord make her come with thy powerful tongue? Lo! Thou castest a woman's pleasure upon her! Her cup overfloweth. Drink it not My Lord!" The Emperor's enchantment was too deep to heed Fanura's ironic warning. As the woman's cum squirted onto the helpless man's face, the crafty Fanura she gave his cock a final jerk and made him erupt into her hand. "Ah, My Lord, my generous Lord! Thou hast spent thyself giving pleasure to this foreign woman. Even if thou willest, thou canst not now accompany thy troops as we smite the Zarians. I perceive that slumber overtaketh thee. Thy concubine is similarly spent. Sleep in her arms, My Lord. Take her this night and every night 'til my return. She is eager to please thee. Fill her with thy efficacious seed and make her grow heavy with thy child." Pearls Before Wine Marius looked up at Fanura through sated eyes, almost pleading. "Do not speak My Sweet Lord. I know thy eyes grow heavy when thou givest of thyself to a woman. Thou willst sleep with her and I will go. And when I return, the woman will shew forth the fullness of thy handiwork. Thou willst breed her well, My Lord. But now thou must sleep, My Sweet Lord. Sleep deeply. Take her soft breasts to thy mouth and suckle like a babe. Thine eyes close softly. Thou art at peace. Thy thoughts are scattered and drift away from thee. Sleep, My Lord. Sleep." Fanura smiled again as the woman gathered Marius's head to her breasts and he began to suck softly. The woman looked up at Fanura who winked. This clever foreign prostitute Fanura had procured would keep the Emperor happily occupied for the next several weeks, she thought. Several more weeks of drinking her drugged wine and eating her potion-laced food would keep her imperial "guest" too drowsy and horny to think about anything but this and other nubile women in the harem Fanura had carefully assembled for him. Each was an enchantress in her own right, skilled in enflaming the lust of any man and using that lust to keep his will soft and pliable. Fanura herself had taught Marius to allow a woman to mount him, pacify him with her breasts, and draw forth his sperm with her pussy, sating him with sleepy pleasure. As Marius lay abed letting one woman after another drain and enervate him with pleasure, Fanura would gather the reins of power to herself. Soon the Empire would be hers alone! Just one more thing was needed. ***** Several weeks later it was a self-satisfied Fanura who presided over the Great Council. One after another the reports had all been favorable. The Zarians had been chased back over the border feeling lucky the Nuri-Crothon troops had not pursued them to recover the abducted women. She imagined what kind of joyous homecoming the Nurian "captives" would have prepared. Nothing more would be heard from Zaria raiders; that was sure until their women brought them to kneel before Fanura, begging to be incorporated into her Empire. Messages had arrived telling of the success of the Nurian maidens sent to Cortho. Each had quickly become a cherished favorite of her new husband without raising the ire of the first wife. As the Zuma increased the stamina as well as the malleability of the Corthon men, the first wives found their husbands made love better and more often than before the Nurian girl arrived. And many Corthon matrons discovered the joys of love with a woman for the first time as they made common cause with the younger woman who taught them how to bring their husband to heel. The Senate hardly met any more; with two horny women at home, Senators had better things to do. The "girls" dispatched to the high Corthon officials were well trained in administration and soon took control of their new husbands' affairs as their Corthon wives learned how to keep their men home making love. In most households both the Nurian and the Corthon wife were soon pregnant. The Corthon foot soldiers were being rapidly absorbed as second husbands for the women in the environs of the capital, although some of the city women sent their former mates back to their elder sisters, preferring the imported to the domestic product. Most of the Corthons had been farmers before being forced into the army and would probably have been quite happy to stay even without having a woman who wanted him in her two or three times a day. Fortunately, the Corthons were able to introduce several new crops and farming techniques that meant greater agricultural output. The extra food would be quite welcome as most of the Nurian women with new Corthon husbands were soon found with child. As Marius, Aldos and the other Corthon officials lost interest in matters of state -- for months their sleeping ears had been filled by whisperers, urging them forget such trivial things -- their lovely captors encouraged them to become more physically active. Fanura and the other women enjoyed going to the stadium and watch their men wrestle, sprint, broad jump, throw javelins and shoot bows, each cheering excitedly for her bedmate. Fanura was pleased that her Marius was seldom bested except by Aldos, and that only in wrestling, where the Strategeon's greater bulk made him invincible. "In sum, Nuria had never been more prosperous or more secure. Nuria is, to all intents and purposes, the new capital of an Empire that is Corthon in name only," the young queen reported. "The minnow has swallowed the sturgeon. There is but one thing more that we can do to seal our place at the head of the Empire. I, myself, have already taken this final step," the Queen stated proudly. "The choice is thine, but for several weeks *I* no longer partake the daily draught of Mea." A little titter went around the table. "I may have softened and blunted the Emperor's will, but I can report that his sword remains rigid and sharp," the Queen announced with a little smirk. "About the time of next Thirteenth Moon Festive, I will bear the Emperor's first child!" Fanura paused and looked around; then frowned. She was expecting a reaction: surprise, jubilation, outrage; instead Council appeared merely pleased. Dolphia saw the Queen's consternation and smiled. "They share thy joy, My Queen, but not thy hesitation." "My hesitation? Why I have allowed the Emperor..." "We well know what thou hast allowed the Emperor," the High Priestess smirked. "But thou art not the first." "What?" "Lucas and I are expecting our first before the rains resume. Behold!" Munira stood, lifted her short tunic and displayed to everyone the first signs of her delightful bulge. "I knew I must bear his child from the first night I made him lie with me. He tells me that he will gladly remain in the temple and care for as many as I will give him." One by one the other Council members, from the youngest to the oldest, nodded and rubbed their bellies. "I though my days of childbearing were over, but Gaius's fresh seed proved my field was but fallow, not infertile," Laufi, the serving girl of Fanura's mother, announced, her eyes glowing like a bride. "And my young centurion promises to sow me again next year and the next." "Thou didst beguile Marius, My Queen, but not deceive him when you promised him a baby by me," Rotha-Na smirked. "What other chance had I to bear an Imperial scion. I consigned the Mea potion to the imps of the underworld and allowed the Emperor to fill my belly with his child." "I, too, am filled, My Queen," Gassara smiled. "Although in truth I cannot say which of the Praetorian Guards is the father. As a precaution, I have taken the whole lot for my household!" "Well said, Gassara," Dolphia said. "You must know unless you have forgotten that the seed of a Zuma-drugged man often yields a double or triple harvest!" This announcement at last brought the gasps and giggles of amazement Fanura had expected at her own. Although irked at being upstaged by her followers, surrounded by so many happy women, she could not remain angry. "Well, Dolphia" the Queen laughed, "It seems we need to arrange quickly for a joint marriage ceremony, lest we cause scandal." "There will be talk enough as it is, My Queen, when thou and thy entire Council present their swollen bellies before the alter of the Goddess. Especially where thy equally pregnant High Priestess will meet ye." Fanura started. "Yes, my Queen, I carry Aldos's child since the night of the treaty ceremony, although he does not yet know it," chuckled Dolphia. "Scandal enough? Oh, perhaps not," the Queen replied with a mischievous grin. "I can think of something else to set the gossips' tongues wagging." No one dared ask, although the Queen's broad smile harbored no threat. "I see Laufi is too smitten with her young Gaius to partake, but now that we have proven the abilities of our future mates to beget children, we can begin to share the fathers-to-be." A nervous titter ran among the women. "Methinks Munira is not the only one to have admired fair Lucas. Perhaps the boy could be trained to please his gravid mistress by a heftier rider," she grinned, glancing at Dolphia who looked embarrassed. "And, would not Gassara prove well the mettle of Aldos's sword," the queen smiled as the virago's nostrils flared in anticipation. "Nor do I suppose the Emperor would ever wish to escape the sweet slavery of our dear Munira once he has slept a night with his sword between her slim legs." A wild delight flickered in the girl's face. "For my part, I would do battle with the Praetorians. Perchance for a few nights my cries will disturb the sleep of Gassara, as for months hers have mine." The End Comments, please to Homer Vargas, through the link below. Pearls by the River Humid air clung with slick silken fingers to our skin as we sat on the cement that lead up to the small room I lived in. Overhead, the purple fingers of twilight touched the horizon, and darkness descended, but not silence as the multitude of night sounds rent the sky. The settling of the cockies in raucous chorus and the crickets scratching their legs in that unique sound that is their night-song. We could see the local mob of kangaroos come out from the scrub and start grazing down by the river, the unusual shapes I had only ever seen on flat screen or photograph before I came to this strange country, barely discernable. And we could hear the cattle lowing in the yards, brought in only this afternoon on the muster. Jessie sat beside me. Not touching though, it was too hot to touch. Her long tanned limbs stretched out before her, her right hand holding a cold beer that dripped condensation onto the step to quickly dissipate into the still-warm air. She took a sip, and I could see the tender lines of her neck work to swallow the mouthful. My eyes traced a droplet of sweat as it trailed along her cheek, sliding down her neck and into the hollow between her breasts. The bottle was set to the ground with a clink on the cool concrete and there was a moment of contemplative quiet, as we seemed to search something to start up a stilled conversation. "We should go for a swim," her Australian drawl was startling, and I jumped for a moment, its huskiness striking me low in the groin as it always did. "Where? The river?" my own South London accent was incongruous in this place I had only ever seen while watching movies like Crocodile Dundee. "Unless you want to share the horse trough with Cola and Trotsky?" she raised a cynical brow in query, the faintest quirk of a smile at her lips taking the sting from the comment. I could not resist bunching my fist and giving her a small punch on the shoulder. The pale rose of her lips broke into a smile, lighting her gorgeous features with a serious beauty. She flipped one long blonde braid over her shoulder so it hung down her back like an arrow pointing to the smooth curve of her backside, toned by years of horse-riding and cattle mustering. With a curious grace, she stood like a cat unfolding its limbs into a stretch. She held out one calloused hand, and I grasped it. With a grunt she hauled me to my feet. "Come on," she did not release me, just tugged me toward the path leading down to the sluggishly moving river. The small branch of the Mullaby River ambled around the homestead in a graceful arc, providing bare respite from the dryness that cast up clouds of red dust with the barest puff of wind everywhere else. "Shouldn't we get our swimming togs?" I asked in naïveté. All I got was a snort in reply and a firmer tug. The air changed a little by the river. It was slightly cooler, and carried the aroma of the water, that particular faintly metallic scent. I jumped as a scuffling sound heralded the departure of one of the unseen denizens of the dark. "'Roo, likely," Jessie uttered in vague comfort to this rather foreign South Londoner. I was grateful. I still had not gotten used to this place, despite the month I had already spent. "Come on, white boy. Strip," she gestured at my clothing, and demonstrated by grasping the hem of her shirt and drawing it over her head in one swift motion. I am fairly certain my heart stopped in the moment that revealed the flat plane of her stomach above the shorts she wore, brown and smooth, then to the perfect orbs of her breasts, rose tipped and fragile, unlike the smooth muscularity of the rest of her. She didn't stop there. My hands stopped at the waistband of my own shorts as she tucked her thumbs into the elastic at her waist and slid them down those amazing legs. Toe to heel levered first the left, then the right shoe off and with a mischievous glance thrown my way, she strode into the water and dove beneath the moonlight dappled inky black surface. I broke out of my reverie only God knows how, and stripped as fast as I could, leaving my clothing beside hers in the grasses that grew on the shallowly sloping banks. I stride into the water, hindered by the slick mud underfoot and the knee deep, sluggish water that swirled around my legs. As the cool environ touched my balls, I tucked my chin to my chest, hands above my head to dive beneath the surface, toward where Jessie would likely be. The darkness was a cocoon of comfort, and I swam several strokes before a burning in my lungs heralded a primordial need to breathe air once again. I broke the surface with a gasp, blinking the water away from eyes, vision blurred for several seconds while I rubbed them. Silence still reigned supreme. Where was she? Before I even had the time to call out, my heart leapt into my chest as something gripped my legs. I had images of crocodiles, eels...sharks. Did sharks swim this far inland? I was yanked under and took a great gulp of water as I opened my mouth to yell for help. The foul brew swiftly coated my tongue. The grasp about my leg released and I fought my way to the surface. With relief, I spat and spluttered, pushing the blonde strands of fringe away from my eyes with one hand, looking around wildly for the culprit...no doubt the errant Jessie, since after the first panicked moments, my brain finally registered that it was no sea monster returned from the depths to wreak savage revenge on my soft, pale flesh. "Jessie?" I shouted across the water as the cockies by the riverbank shifted and squawked at my rudeness, "Jessie?" there was silence again. I trod water, worry rose. "Jessie!!" "I'm right here," her husky voice scared the hell out of me, even as a pair of long limbs wrapped around my hips. I could feel her breasts pressed against my back as I felt her lips kiss the flesh beneath my ear, her warm breath as she sucked for one stomach swooping moment at my ear lobe. It was all I could do to stay above the water, supporting both of us. "I want to ride you, baby," she murmurs in my ear. Cold water be damned. My cock stood up, wanting any kind of attention, but my hands were busy trying to keep us above water, and hers were toying with my rather hard nipples. The delicious witch. "Kiss me," she demanded, and clung to me like a frond of seaweed, plastered against my chest and wrapped around me in entangling folds. Her tongue traced my lips, wrought sensitive by the contrast of cold and heat. I sucked in her tongue, tasting her. Her flavour was faintly bitter from the beer we had only just consumed; there was the flavour of the honey from dessert and that underlying essence that was she. She let me take control for only one moment, before taking it back. Her tongue swept my mouth, duelling with my own, while her nails raked lightly down my back. A rash of goose bumps pimpled my skin. She shifted and my cock, which lay hard and pulsing against my lower belly, was dually contacted by her sex. She rolled her hips, sliding her heat up and down my length. She broke the kiss long enough to murmur a breath's distance away. "I want to ride you...now," she reached down between us, and my breath stopped completely as she wrapped her fingers around my cock, "But not this. Not yet. I want to ride you...here." She raised the hand that enfolded my cock and touched my lips, slipping the forefinger within. I sucked and drew my tongue down its length. Her eyes darkened with heat and her smile was that of a practised courtesan. "If you are a good boy with this, I might let you fuck me," she leaned forward and captured my ear lobe again, her long slow licking more of a torture than the insistent grind at my groin. Suddenly she released me, and I was left with an aching hard on and a bewildered expression. "Come on," she beckoned with that temptress's smile, "I know you want it." Was she insane? Of course I did. Without hesitation, I struck out in an awkward stroke. I never was very good. Not too many places for swimming lessons where I was from. She stood at the river's edge, naked and proud, her damp hair drying in pre-raphaelite curls about her features. Her pink tongue licked her lips, and her eyes glittered in the darkness, reflecting the silvered light from the sable-hued sky. As I finally joined her, she stared directly into my eyes, wide irises in the black. I could not help but join her lips with mine own. I barely felt her hook an ankle behind mine and gently press me to the ground. She straddled my hips and leaned forward, groin to groin, breast to breast, lip to lip. Her hands captured my sprawled palms and held them overhead; once again I was prevented from touching her. She broke the kiss and leaned forward, nipples hovering expectantly over my mouth. I lifted my head upward a few inches, but she drew back. She released my right hand and placed a finger in her mouth. My cock twitched as I watched her wet her finger and smooth the saliva over her nipples, teasing it into pert erection. "Want to taste, baby?" she whispered huskily, leaning forward to lick me on the neck. She leaned forward and did not move this time as I got to capture the nub in my lips. I laved her with broad flat strokes of my tongue and her head tilted back, a blissful expression on her face. As I teased her, she rubbed against me, slowly, torturously. I jerked my hips, unable to prevent the action. My brain was short-circuiting. "Oh no, little one," she chuckled softly, shifting her hips, "That isn't for you, not yet." With a slide upwards, she broke my touch with her breast and I couldn't prevent the smallest sound of protest escaping my throat. The keening of a man deprived of sweet nectar. But it was to my intense pleasure that I very soon found she had something far better in mind. Her sex hovered mere inches above my lips and I licked them in anticipation. She thrust the first two fingers of her right hand into her mouth and thoroughly wet them. I could do little but watch as she slid her slippery fingers over her clit. She rubbed herself with a force that surprised me, her calloused fingertips disappearing into her folds of flesh. Her hips rolling back and forth, her head tilting back to gasp in the warm night air. She removed her fingertips from her clit, and pressed them to my lips. "Taste me," she insisted with a wicked smile, "Or you get nothing..." What is a man to do when a beautiful woman is sitting on his face? Obey of course. And may I say...she tasted like nothing on earth. A goddess. "Now you can play," she slid a hand through my sandy hued hair and drew my head upward with insistent fingers. I smoothed my tongue over her clit, licking lightly then gaining pleasure. Her wetness spilled over my face, and she writhed against me. My hands reached up to cup her breasts, flicking her nipples with my thumbs. "Yes....oh god....harder..." she murmurs. I released her breast, and smoothed a hand down her spine, I cupped her right buttock with one hand. Would she let me go further? Intrigued, I rubbed a finger over the puckered opening of her ass. Her butt slid backward a little, and I took that as permission. I slid a finger forward into her wetness, toying with her a little first, slicking my fingers with her juices. She squirmed, gasping. I couldn't help smiling a little at that. With gentle pressure, I pressed my finger into her butt. The moan that came from her lips was exquisite and I sucked hard on her clit. "Oh...fuck....me," she barely gasped out, as she squirmed and jerked, arching her back thrusting her breasts skyward. Her hands clasped over her nipples and she plucked at them, biting her lower lip. She was not silent as she came. She shouted aloud, grinding against my hand and mouth. She dismounted my face and slid down to rest against my chest. She kissed my mouth, licking and tasting her own juices. "Mmmm, that tastes nice," and thrust her tongue into my mouth for a deep kiss. I ran my hands down her back, feeling the sweat that cooled her skin. She broke the kiss and smiled at me, a new glint in her eyes. Without speaking, she slid down my body and licked her lips as she examined my cock with avaricious eyes. After the rather...animated display of moments before, I was straining hard against my belly. With a long slow lick, she trailed the veins from the base of my cock to the head before swirling there for a gut wrenching moment. My hips jerked. She proceeded to deep throat me without a pause, humming deep in her throat, sending mind blowing waves through my groin and up into my spine. She played me like a skilled violinist, drawing my nerves taught, then toying with them as though they were fragile spider webs not to be broken. "I'm....cumming," I barely managed to choke out. She expelled me from her mouth, and I couldn't help but watch as I spurted onto the golden cream of the skin of her breast and neck. She licked her lips like a cat that got the cream and the mouse. She slid upward and her hands entangled with my hair. "Now taste yourself." My face must have registered my surprise, and perhaps a little distaste at the demand. Her lips quirked. "Trust me," she whispered huskily, her fingertips insistent. I did as bid, I had no will to resist. The small strands of pearlescent white upon her breasts where tasted first with wrinkled nose...and to my surprise it was nowhere near as unpleasant as I would have thought. I suckled her breasts eagerly and she clutched my head close. "That's it, baby, lick it all off. You have been such a good boy," she wriggled her hips, "And since you have been such a good boy..." Who was I to deny a lady her desires? Pearls for Five It happened on the bus on the way back from work. Standing there, a woman in her midthirties with absolutely the hugest tits was staring at me. She was blond, her face was average, she was overweight, looked stupid as dirt and had a little boy in tow. The image of her getting knocked up in a bar bathroom came to mind, her and the idiot fucking while drunk out of their minds. Our eyes met and I smiled, she smiled back, a bit astonished it seemed, and just kept staring at me. "My name is Sigrid" she said. I gave my name in response. I looked down at her boy after we maintained eye contact for a while, and lightly shrugged my shoulders. He looked like he was almost retarded, and I felt compassion for the whole mess of a situation that must be. She looked away at that moment, but only for a second, then she was back staring at me. I looked back at her and realized, very clearly, that I could do anything I wanted with that woman. She was practically drooling at me with a vacant happy smile that made the bastard in me want to come out. It was decided soon enough, and as she got off the bus, she said "I get out here." I stepped out of the bus behind her. She turned around a looked astonished as I got off the bus. The boy pulled her arm, and it was like she was just realizing that her boy was with her. "I'm going to the discount store," she said, seeming hardly to believe she was saying those words. I put my finger to my lips, and started going to the store. We crossed the street. Her tits were so huge they swayed when she walked, and it was obvious there was no bra she could afford that would hold in her tits. They were absolutely mammoth. As we crossed I got out a pen and a piece of paper and followed her into the store. The store was a bunch of rows of clothing on round spindels and two aisles of cheap household articles. There was a set of shelves with toys on it, and the boy pulled free and ran over to look at them. The blond was looking up at me, and started walking as if in a daze to the clothes section, where she made the feeble attempt to appear to be looking at clothes. I took the pen and wrote on the pad of paper: Are you attracted to me? She glanced at the paper and looked back up at me nodding her head. Are you single? She glanced and nodded again. I chuckled, a single mother and horny as hell. I gave her a wink and a smile and wrote again: Do you want to watch me make my cock shoot cum? She looked down and read, it took her a while to read it apparently, after about 10 seconds she sucked in her breath in a little squeal. She nodded her head very clearly while now looking towards my cock. I was already horny as hell, just writing the words, and my cock was definitely straining my pants. With a jacket on, it was unlikely she could see anything, but I gyrated my hips ever so slightly. Her eyes were wide open and she literally licked her lips. I wrote: Let's go. Your place. She nodded and went to get the boy, I walked towards the entrance. One of the store employees had noticed our strange interaction, but not been able to see the words, and cocked an eyebrow. I waited outside as she bought him a toy, and when she walked out, I indicated she should walk about 10 yards in front of me. She did so, continually looking back and heading down towards the river and a less expensive residential area. We came to a two story apartment block and she opened the door leading up to the second level. I climbed the stairs behind her, and the boy it seemed just realized I was at their home. "Who is he, mommy?" he asked. "Just a friend, honey. He's a nice man." She said that with a jittery voice. I shook his little hand and he smiled. Content I was not a threat, he went back to playing with the toy he had gotten at the store. We walked down the hall and she opened the door to her apartment. She ushered the boy in and told him to use the restroom. He dutifully put himself in the bathroom. She came back and said "Now talk to me, oh my god, this is so exciting!" Her hands were trying not to reach out and grab me or rub her huge tits, I couldn't tell which. "Wait a minute," I said "first the only rule: No touching unless I say so." As that sunk in, she looked distressed to say the least. I opened my jacket, revealing my pants that were being stretched out of shape by my hard cock. She looked down and saw it as I stepped forward and pushed it against her, then stepped back. She took her hand and pressed it against my cock, sending a pleasant pressure running up my spine. I removed her hand. "To really it see it shoot, there's one more thing..." I said just as the bathroom door opened again and the boy came back out. "Honey, its time to watch your favorite movie," she told the little boy. His eyes lit up and he starting doing a little dance of some sort and ran to the television in his room. She brought him a VHS tape, he popped it in and she turned on the TV. The next thing on the screen is the Muppets movie where everyone is a pirate. She left the room and came back with a key and told him to knock if he needed something. She then locked him in the room. She came back to me in the living room, where I had sat down on her brown shag couch. Her tits were absolutely gargantuan. Images of shooting my cum all over her tits was flashing before my eyes and I was actually already lightly rubbing my cock through my pants. When she came in and saw that, her eyes were glued to my hand and its rubbing. "What would you do to see it shoot cum?" I asked her. "Anything," she answered "whatever you want." I could hardly believe my luck, she was no special catch, but those fucking huge tits and as stupid as dirt. "How many close girlfriends do you have?" I asked. "Two or three," she said. "To really watch, it is going to take you getting at least one other girlfriend over here to watch with you." I said this with a little smirk and slowly started unzipping my pants. She practically ran to the telephone. I listened as she called four different women, one didn't answer. To all three she basically said "I have a stripper for us, come over right away!" About five minutes later, the first of the women arrived. She was a tall lanky colored blonde with dark roots, a huge nose, smallish tits, but a tight ass. Her face wasn't all that bad aside from her nose. It was obvious she had pasted on her makeup in record time, it was a bit garish and overly rouged. She had a shirt on that showed a lot of upper torso, and pair of tight jeans. She was probably in her late twenties. Her eyes flew to me where I was now standing and drinking a beer Sigrid had offered me. She seemed a bit brighter than Sigrid just from her facial expression, and she looked a bit quizzical. She looked at Sigrid and asked "He's a stripper, he doesn't look like a stripper." Sigrid immediately started to tell the whole story how it happened. I smiled and offered the piece of paper for her inspection. She read it, looked at me, looked at Sigrid and said "Wow. And you are going to?" Sigrid nodded her head vigorously and pointed out the boy was watching a movie. "You might as well too," I say, "it's like watching a movie too." "Please," said Sigrid, "please stay Pam, so I can see this! That is just so over-the-top!" She looked me up and down again and then a coy expression came over her, before she said: "Okay, if you are going to, I might as well too..." Just as she said that, the doorbell rang again, and Sigrid rushed to the door. At this point I was getting extremely nervous and was horny as hell. Pam gave me a good one up and down, and took the piece of paper. She went to the door where three women were coming in! Everybody greeted each other like they hadn't seen each other for a while, everyone was happy and chattering. As they women came in I saw a short voluptuous Italian woman with black hair. Her tits were sizable compared to her ass and showcased nicely with a deep cutout in her black top. Her ass which was round but apparently quite tight, was packed in red cord pants. Her makeup was dark and well applied, giving her eyes an upward slant. Her name was Lucy. The next to come in the door was a round, redheaded housewife with another set of huge tits, that she had mounted in a push-up bra from hell. Her rounded stomach and ass that was posted up high due to red five inch heels swayed into the room. Her red hair was in curls, and she had natural freckles all over her face and down over her shoulders and running into her cleavage. Her upper breasts were swelling out of a red and white polka dot top, and her pink pants were stretched tightly over her ass. When I saw her, my mind screamed stupid fuck toy. She seemed already a bit tipsy from some strong alcohol, and was smiling and laughing at everything. Her name was Melissa. Behind her came walking in a girl not more than 18 years old. She was slender, with perky, obviously still growing breasts, and obviously Melissa's daughter. Her name was Jessica. She was pale white with smooth skin, scattered freckles and was wearing a thick pullover and jeans. Her red blonde hair hung in light curls down over her shoulders. She looked a bit nervous too. "Alright, let's get the show started!" Melissa said with gusto, and sat herself on the sofa. "Um, actually, there is no stripper..." said Pam, while getting Lucy and Melissa's attention. The women looked a bit confused briefly, but Pam and Sigrid went on to tell the story, using very neutral terminology and showing only the older women the paper I had written on. After they had read the paper, they both just looked up at me, Lucy almost as if she was revolted, and Melissa as if she had just heard a good dirty joke. Sigrid then piped up and said "Me and Pam are going to watch." "What's going on mom?" Jessica asked "are we going to watch this guy strip or what?" "Well, I think it might be too much for you after all, Jess. I am not sure you should." "I definitely am not staying," said the Italian, "You guys have fun, but that is too much for me." "Oh, don't be such a prude, Lucy!" quipped Melissa. Only then did she realize what she said, and her daughter Jessica crossed her arms and smiled. Lucy saw this transpire, and said "Melissa, you can't possibly think to let little Jess watch that?! That's crazy!" "I've seen lots of guys strip on TV!" Jessica retorted, "What's the difference? Don't be such a prude, Aunt Lucy!" "It one thing to watch a guy strip on TV, Jess! It's another to watch some strange guy jerk off in a friend's living room!" "Jerk off?" Jessica looked at me with big eyes this time. "Yes, jerk off! Do you really want to see that? Do you Melissa, want her to see that?" "Um...I...err...well... no..." said Melissa somewhat reminded of her parental duties. "What?" said Jessica, "But I've seen that sort of thing before!" "What?!" asked all of the women in unison. "Err.." Jessica said, realizing what she had just said that no one else was supposed to know. "Speak!" barked Melissa, her face aghast. "I saw John jerk off on a dirty magazine," she answered, "he didn't know I could see him." The women were all quite uptight about this for some reason, given the other situation at hand. "If I don't watch it, then I'll be a prude!" Jessica cried out. That broke the tension and everyone laughed. The humor was short lived however, and Melissa then answered, alcohol likely having a part in her decision making process "Okay, but you have to stay quiet." Then came an uncomfortable silence. Lucy was standing with her mouth gaping open in astonished disbelief. Jessica walked over and sat on the couch next to her mother. Pam and Sigrid went and sat on the other side of the wrap around couch. Lucy silently sat down in shock in the recliner. I went and stood in the middle of them, and cleared off the low sturdy living room table. I sat down and reclined on one arm. "You know what the objective is ladies. It is a process of give and take. You tell me what to do, I ask you to do something for me." Melissa got up and turned on music. She returned to her chair. As the music came on, she said: "Dance and strip to the music baby!" and clapped once, the girls laughed and I started to peel myself out of my clothes. I kept staring openly at each of the women, and was already fantasizing about shooting my load all over each of them. It was made better by the fact that practically all of them had their mouths gaping open as they looked up at me. It was obvious now that the time had come, Sigrid could hardly contain herself and was already pulling at one of her nipples. As I went to pull off my pants, Pam said "Slow..., slow...." and giggled. I pulled them off slowly, the only thing concealing my cock from sight was the thin white cotton fabric of my boxers. It was obvious that I was highly aroused; my cock was creating a tent in the fabric that was throbbing on its own. "Take off the boxers..." whispered Jessica, leaning forward and staring up at me. Looking down at her face, I felt the first drip of precum stain my shorts, and by Lucy's reaction, namely even wider eyes and pursed lips, that she could see it. "Someone has to show me something," I answered, "I want to show it to you, but I have done a lot for nothing." The women were silent, and everyone looked at Sigrid, since it was her that had dragged me in off the street. "Like what?" she asked. I could tell she was hoping for some hands on action. "Take out your tits for the rest of the show," I answered. This was obviously a surprise for Lucy and Jessica, but Pam, Melissa and Sigrid took it in stride. Sigrid reached down, and pulled her shirt up and off. I was right that she had nothing to contain her tits, and those huge fucking tits came popping out into view. They had tight pink nipples and were just ungodly huge. My cock drained some more precum into my shorts, where the stain was now obvious for all to see. "What's happening?" Jessica asked, "It's all wet!" "That's his pre-cum, Jess," answered Melissa like she was teaching her, "when a man is very aroused, it can be that some cum escapes before ... the big rush comes..." she trailed off, realizing what she was talking about. It made my cock literally stick to my boxers with precum, and the cloth was soaked through as my cock literally oozed cum. Pam and Lucy however, were still caught staring at Sigrid's massive tits. "Your tits are huge!" Pam exclaimed, "Oh my god!" Lucy just stared, now sure how to take the whole scene in. "Now take off the shorts!" called out Jessica again. Melissa laughed. Pam and Sigrid's attention went back to me. I turned and stared blatantly at Sigrid's tits. They were perversely huge and totally appropriate to this experience. My shorts slid down off of me, and a strand of precum hung glistening from the head of my cock. I stood back up. I enjoyed the feeling of the women all looking at my cock, I could feel how their eyes looked it up and down very carefully, knowing they had to be thinking how it felt. "It feels good" I said, and put my hand on my cock. I took my thumb and rubbed it over the head of my cock as I wrapped my other four around it. "Pump it!" squealed Pam. "Yeah, pump it!" said Melissa and Jessica. Sigrid just sat and played with her tits obscenely for me and nodded her head while licking her lips. I started pumping my cock. I could feel the eyes of all those women as they looked at various things, mostly they looked at my cock and my face that was contorted in pleasure. I pumped it slow and lightly. "Harder and faster!" Melissa quipped. As I continued to do so, I could feel an orgasm building deep in my balls. My knees were a bit weak, and I just laid down on the living room table, my knees bent with my feet on the ground and my cock standing up in the air, with my fist wrapped around it, precum oozing out of the head lubing my cock, but not enough... "Lotion," I said. I took my hand off my cock so as not to lose control. "Melissa, you wanted harder and faster, bring me lotion." "In the bathroom," said Sigrid. Melissa got up, her huge white tits and stilted ass wobbling down the hall. She came back in less than a minute carrying a creamy hand lotion. When she went to hand it to me, I interrupted her "No, put it on my yourself. Just the bottle though, no hands." Her initial hesitation reverted to smirking as she held the bottle over my cock by an inch or two and left a long stripe of lotion down the length of the underside of the shaft. "Now pump it hard and fast!" called out Lucy suddenly. She was literally trembling in her chair, obviously shocked she had dared call out something. I started pounding my cock with my fist, the lotion smearing the entire shaft and the slippery head pumping between my fingers. I started writhing around a bit on the table, and was breathing hard. I was staring back and forth between Sigrid's tits and Lucy somewhat stunned expression. I could feel the eyes of Pam, Jessica and Melissa on me, and the whole situation was burning a hole in my consciousness. I was overloading. At the last possible moment, I let go of my cock and took a deep breath. Breathing deeply I slowly relaxed my body, having to do so by thinking about it. I was panting as I looked at Lucy. "Rub lotion in that big cleavage of yours for me. That means no touching, don't worry." Lucy licked her dark painted lips and looked at Sigrid's huge tits while biting her lips. "Oh come on Lucy!" laughed Jessica, "don't be a prude!" "But my bra! I don't want lotion all over the silk!" "You still have cleavage without a bra with a v neck like that" I answered. "Yeah, take off the bra!" Pam giggled. Lucy somewhat shocked reached around and unclasped her bra, and pulled it out without taking off her shirt. There was still a very generous amount of cleavage on display. Melissa handed her the bottle of lotion. Lucy took a generous amount of lotion in her hands, and began putting lotion on her neck and began working slowly and nervously downward. "Now what about me?" I asked while eyeing Lucy putting lotion on the upper slopes of her tits, and work down into the deep valley formed by her hanging tits. "Eat your precum!" Melissa called out enthusiastically, "Come on, eat it baby!" Pam and Jessica laughed a bit nervously, and I started pumping my cock for precum. It didn't take long, and the next thing I knew I was eating my own precum in front of five women, writhing around naked on a table. It didn't do much for me, but the women seemed to love it. Melissa suddenly jumped up laughing and ran down the hall to Sigrid's bedroom, and was back in a flash carrying a slim golden vibrator. She put it in my hand and told me: "Go on, suck it and then fuck it." "I have three things to ask then," I answered, "eating my precum, sucking it and then fucking it makes three." The women didn't look adverse to this proposition, so I rushed on: "Melissa, you instigated this nasty turn of things. I want you to take off your top and bra, and kneel on the floor here close to me where you will watch until the end. Lucy almost went to protest, but then realized she was still rubbing lotion on her breasts. Jessica looked at her mother in a questioning way, and Melissa shrugged her shoulders: "Why not?" and shucked her top and bra. Her white alabaster tits had light freckles on them and two very pert pink nipples. Her long curly red hair dangled over her shoulders, and she knelt down so close, that her arm lay resting alongside mine. "I can't see his face anymore!" cried out Jessica, and slipped down on her knees next to her mother at the table. She laid her arms on the table just as Melissa had, and one of her arms lay along my upper thigh. Looking down her face was literally half an arms length from my cock. As Melissa leaned forward a bit to look down from next to my chest, I felt her tits press against my arm, and some of her hair fall onto my chest. At that point, Pam got up and came around to the other side of the table and sat herself down to the opposite of Jessica, and suddenly her face was half an arm's length away from my throbbing cock as well. Like a robot, Lucy came and sat across from Melissa. Sigrid then came and knelt between my legs, her huge tits actually resting on my knees. Every woman there could easily have reached out and grabbed my cock, or leaned in and sucked it. Pearls for Five As the women had been arranging themselves around the table, I had begun sucking on the vibrator, getting it wet and ready for my ass. My other hand was busy pulling on my balls, trying to stave off an orgasm. All of these women so close to me was driving me mad. I could smell each of them, I could smell that one or two of them was physically aroused. Definitely Sigrid and Pam, by the way Pam was looking at my cock and licking her lips. As I pulled the vibrator out of my mouth, I spread my legs even wider, letting Sigrids massive tits fall between them, whereupon they swayed back and forth slapping my balls. I guided the vibrator to my ass, and slowly pushed. My sweat and spit let the vibrator slide into my ass with difficulty. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling. "He needs lotion," said Jessica "so it will slide easier. Give it here." Jessica took the lotion from Lucy, and while her arm was over my chest, her sweater's arm brushed against my cock, sending sparks of pleasure through me. I pulled out the vibrator and Jessica dutifully dispensed lotion on it quite liberally. Some dripped off and hit my leg and the table. When I put it back in my ass, it did slide quite a bit easier, and even began to feel good as it stimulated my prostate. The situation was horny beyond belief, me and five women all watching me fuck myself in the ass with one of their sex toys. My hard cock laid on my stomach untouched as I slid the cool plastic in and out of my ass. "Now pump that cock!" squealed Jessica. "Yeah, fuck your ass and pump your cock!" encouraged Pam. I proceeded to fuck my ass and pump my well lubed cock. The women were actually leaning in to be able to see the dildo in my ass, which put the faces of Jessica and Pam literally inches from my cock from below and those of Lucy and Melissa level with my cock only inches away. I actually had to hold my cock straight as I pumped it, because to move too far to the right I could have hit Melissa in the face with the tip of it, and to the left Lucy. Lucy's tits were being jiggled by my pumping left arm, and Melissa's by my ass fucking right. I started to moan loudly, and was totally in the moment. The fucking of my ass and my fist was bringing me to the brink of orgasm. All the women's eyes were watching the glistening tip of my cock, glancing at my face, and looking back to the cock again. "He's going to come!" Jessica said excitedly just as I took my hand off my cock and took another deep breath. "Not quite yet," I answered "You and Pam wanted both the fucking and pumping at the same time, now I get to see you two topless." I was literally moaning as I said that, the dildo motionless in my ass, my cock cooling in the air. Both of them quickly shucked their clothes, Melissa looked mildly alarmed, but was quickly distracted by me moaning and pumping my cock a few more strokes. Pam's tits were small and nonimpressive, but still tits out for my cock pumping pleasure. Jessica's tits however were fantastic. Smooth, pale white, still swelling with burgeoning womanhood; she already had cleavage from two firm round tits. Her face was so young and innocent looking happily at my cock. You could tell she was proud to be in with the women at the table. I wanted to grab her head and push my cock into her mouth. The image of doing so in my head made my cock ooze precum again, a long thick rope of it fell onto my stomach. Melissa scooped it up and put it in my mouth. "And you, Lucy," I said, "Your shirt too." Lucy hesitated: "You're getting ahead of yourself, now it's your turn to do something." "Given what the next thing is, I think I should get a freebie or two in advance" I answered, "One from each of you," I said, chancing my luck. The women looked at each other. None of them had officially touched me yet, and they were all wondering if I would try for that. They slowly nodded their heads. I came up with something less dramatic but even more horny for my current needs, however. "I want all of you to watch it cum close up. Put your faces as close as you dare..." I laughed a little bit at that, knowing that I can shoot cum a good yard easily. Pam laughed "It's like Russian Roulette! Who will it be?" At that she leaned forward and put her cheek on my thigh, looking up at my cock towering in the air in front of her. I could feel her breath curling around my balls as she stared at the cock directly in front of her. Melissa put her head down next, resting it on my right lower stomach, staring almost straight down at it. Jessica followed her mother's lead, and put a cheek on my right thigh, looking up at my cock. Finally Lucy removed her shirt, and actually rested her face on my left arm just above the wrist, leaving my wrist free to be able to pump my cock. Sigrid bent down and just hovered above my cock by one or two inches, her mouth lightly opened, her stupid eyes glazed with lust. It was obvious that if I shot my cum at tat moment she was going to get it all over her face. Pam realized this and scooted her face in closer to the shaft of my cock, her nose indeed touching it, and looked up, thinking to watch Sigrid take it in her mouth. Indeed, at this point my cock had brushed Sigrid's lips, and her tongue had flicked out and licked the tip free of precum. "Hey!" said Jessica, "I can't see that well!" and scooted her face in as well. I could feel the tits of all of the women now pressing on me, and Lucy and Melissa were leaning in as well, following the lead of the other three women. Lucy and Melissa came down close and were basically looking at the head of my cock from the front, the hole that cum could blast out of being pointed alternately at each of them as I slowly started stroking my cock and fucking my ass again. At this point precum was leaking from my cock and lubing it fantastically. Looking down I saw Melissa discretely fingering herself, and Lucy playing with her tits as they both stared at the throbbing head of my cock. That's when I felt Pam's nose move it, and then the hot wet kiss of her lips on my balls. As I lifted my hand so she could reach them more and moaned in encouragement, she reached around and took the dildo from my hand and started fucking me with it, faster and harder than before. My cock stood free in the middle of five women's faces that were arranged around it. Despite Melissa's hands in her pants, it was still a big surprise when she grabbed my cock with her right hand and popped it in her mouth and sucked it. Sigrid let out a moan of frustration that she hadn't done so first, and it looked like Jessica was following her mother's suit again, and was frigging herself under the table while watching her mother suck my hard cock. Melissa moaned as she sucked my cock, and I heard Jessica do the same as she watched. Melissa took my cock from her mouth, and pointed it at Lucy. Lucy stretched down and took my cock tentatively in her mouth, then she began to suck in long slow strokes. Pam pounding my ass with the dildo while Lucy sucked my cock was getting to be way too much. I was definitely going to lose control. Lucy pulled my cock out of her mouth, and Jessica actually pushed her mother out of the way, and started sucking very inexperienced, but very enthusiastic and vigorously. All of it at once was too much, just too much. "Fucking cum! Cum you bastard!" moaned Lucy. My cock started to shoot off the largest load of cum I had ever laid. The first hot stream shot into the back of Jessica's throat and she pulled off spluttering as it continued to shoot. I grabbed my cock and starting pumping and shooting it, first I shot left at Lucy and got a beautiful stripe over her right eye and cheek that dripped down to the side of her mouth. When Melissa saw that, she dived in with an open mouth and caught the next big wad right between the eyes and another that shot straight into her mouth and covered her lips. The dildo fucking my ass kept my balls firing with maximum strength, and Jessica got another thick glob of come on the side of her face. At that point Pam started sucking my balls as Sigrid gobbled my cock into her mouth and swallowed the last few squirts of my cream, licking and sucking as her huge tits practically smothered Pam. As my cock grew soft, Sigrid remained sucking on it, until slowly, the women leaned back from the table. Looking around I could see my cum on Lucy's face, her right eye was closed and she had licked some of the cum that ran down into her mouth. Melissa had come running down over her nose and some dripping off her lips and chin. Jessica continued to stare at my cock, her face somewhat shocked as my wad of cum on her face slid down to her chin. Even Pam had caught a drop, and it looked like drool coming out of her mouth. Sigrid leaned back, letting my cock pop out of her mouth, and the women realized the situation as they came down from their horny high. They all started getting a bit jittery and starting laughing a bit nervously. Lucy pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her face off, then handed it around. All the women wiped their faces clean of cum, and I got it at the end to finish wiping off my cock. I gave it back to Lucy, soaking with my cum. She looked at it somewhat uncertainly, then stuck it back in her purse. I got up and dressed. Smiling and thanking them, I gave out my email so they could get ahold of me again. I told them next time, there had to be at least one new face, and saying my goodbyes, walked out of the apartment, down the stairs, and onto the street. Pearls in Oyster He calls me in the morning to entice me with an expensive dinner, but with one condition. When he tells me the provision, I chuckle out loud and pretend to have to think about it, teasing him for awhile before capitulating to his demand. We talk a bit more, flirting and exchanging gossip, and agree to meet at 7:30 this evening. The prospect of tonight makes the rest of the day crawl. So I busy myself with chores, spending most of my time puttering in the garden. Eventually, I immerse myself into the work of pulling weeds and trimming flowers and soon build up a sweat, getting my hands dirty in the process. The feel of the sun on my back and earth in my fingers connects me with images of fertility, ripeness, and harvest. Throughout the day I remove layers of clothing, accommodating the rise of my body temperature from the exertion. By 12 o'clock, it's too hot to work in sweat pants, so I go inside to change into shorts and a bikini top. When I resume my work, I feel as if I'm being watched. I periodically look around and check myself to make sure nothing is showing. Finally, I overcome my unease and lose myself in the work. By late afternoon, the sweat and dirt leave dark streaks over my legs, arms, and face. I starve myself throughout the day in anticipation of this meal. My stomach, however, is distracted by the work, so my hunger remains dormant. We chatted vaguely about where to eat, but nothing was set in stone other than starting dinner at about 8 o'clock. The decadence of a late supper never fails to arouse me, and I find that with each passing hour my restlessness increases. At last 6 o'clock arrives, and I begin my preparations, timing them so that he'll have to wait for me. I put a Piaf CD in the player, and the tub fills with hot water as she croons La Vie en Rose. Stripped of my sweaty clothes, I begin to chill and, in reaction, feel my nipples harden. My arms cross involuntarily in front of my chest to ward off the cold. Eager to warm up, I slip into the water. The bath immediately relaxes me, letting me imagine that I'm floating in air. With time, I wash my hair, silencing Edith with each immersion of my head. Afterwards, I clean my body, enjoying the scent and feel of the olive oil soap that makes me think of his skin and mannerisms. I glide the bar over my entire body—my neck, breasts, and arms, lingering a touch too long between my legs. I could easily continue with some gentle handling, but I resist temptation. After a long soak, I shave my legs, starting at my ankles and working up my calves and thighs. I've left my pubic hair unkempt these last several weeks; tonight is special, so I get ready to tidy my bush. I crop the coarse hair to less than half-inch length with my scissors. I then lather my crotch with gel, using a shaving brush that was a small gift from him. His intention was to make me think of him whenever I groom my pubic region. The feel of the brush between my thighs sparkles my insides; I find myself teasing my clitoris and realise that his desired effect is achieved. With effort and a sigh, I stop myself and return to the task at hand. I decide on a "landing-strip" look. Sliding the razor in the direction of growth, I clean away all of the hair from either side of my labia. To do this efficiently, I use my other hand to stretch the skin taut. I can feel the wetness brewing inside of me. With each stroke of the razor I become more exposed and less of a secret. The process excites me, but I compose myself. I have to be careful as I shave around my hood; a nick would certainly take the fun out of this evening. Having stripped my outer labia, I shave above my opening, leaving a thin, 2-inch-long stripe of hair. I rinse away the residue and examine myself with a mirror: I'm hairless except for the thin patch above my slit. With nothing to hide behind, my inflated lips are conspicuous and my clitoral hood is blatantly visible. My excitement has also caused me to dilate and bloom. I angle the mirror, peering into my pink insides and at the surrounding skin. I like what I see, but my denuding needs a finishing touch, a trick I learned from a friend who put herself through university working as a stripper. Over my sheared skin, I apply a thin smear of lubricant that I normally use with my vibrator. With a fresh razor, I shave again, only this time stroking opposite to the direction of hair growth. The action leaves my vulva feeling like satin. As soon as I'm done, I rinse between my thighs with cold water, minimising subsequent irritation. I've also prepared some ice for this purpose. The frigid water is brutally shocking, but it serves to soothe and close the pores of my scraped skin. Having endured all I can bear, I shut the tap, sit on the edge of the tub, and place some cubes against my outer labia, softly rubbing the shaved area. The effect is harsh yet relieving. My body sends me mixed messages. The water and ice cools my crotch and ardour. Yet, after a short time, I sense the melt-water run down my backside and thighs, and I'm aware of the straining of my nipples. My extinguished fires are slowly rekindled, and, ever so gently, I slide the ice between my lips, teasing my entrance. I could easily proceed, but I stop, pick up the mirror, and inspect myself. I'm extremely pleased with the result as I've managed to avoid any after-shaving blemishes and chafing. I'm drawn to my lips; they pout thickly at the mirror, boldly distinct from the neighbouring satiny skin. "I look like a porn star," I declare out loud. After patting myself dry, I apply moisturiser everywhere, don a bath robe, and adjust my shoulder-length hair. I curl it into big, loose loops, place the bulk of my mane on top of my head, and fix the bun with a pin. Several thin strands hang down, some framing my face, others caressing my neck. My attention then turns to my nails. The cherry-red paint catches my eye, but, after brief consideration, I reach for the bottle of translucent pearl-coloured polish. I make myself comfortable on the bed and paint my nails, fingers and toes, while listening to music. I'm happy with my look and, upon returning to the bathroom mirror, finish my preparations with some makeup and lipstick. After applying some light dabs of perfume behind my ears, on my neck, and in my cleavage, I'm ready to dress. I hear the doorbell followed by the turning of the lock; he uses his key to get in. I call down to him: "I'm almost ready. Just 10 more minutes. Fix us a drink." His condition for taking me to dinner is that I must wear the pearl thong that he bought for me about a month ago. It's made of a 4-inch-wide band of black lace, which fits just above the hips, with a string of pearls acting as the crotch. If, as someone once said, brevity is the soul of lingerie, then this little piece is the touchstone of underwear. Obviously, the item is designed not as cover but as stimulation for the wearer. I slip my feet into the thong and slide it up into place. What a deliciously sinful garment! I adjust the pearls so that they lie between my lips and over top of my clitoris. It's a spontaneous, irreversible reaction: Every little movement I make upsets my equilibrium, raising the temperature and pressure, transforming my phase, bringing me closer to my critical point. How am I going to last the night? I look in the mirror and love that the lace accents my waist, giving me an hour-glass outline, but my eyes are drawn to the pearls bisecting my scant pubic hair and disappearing into my body. It's an evocative vision and feeling. In line with my minimalist underwear, I forego a bra and leave my legs bare. I slip on a pair of black Italian pumps and look at myself in the mirror. I'm truly hot tonight; I just know that I'll be prancing around for him in this exact state of undress later tonight. The black cocktail dress that I slide into is sexy, yet classy, with a hemline that is about 4 inches above my knees and a very low-cut back. For jewellery, I wear a necklace, bracelet, and earrings, all made of pearls. May as well stick with tonight's theme. The pearls—the ones sandwiched between my lips—are persistent, intruding yet exciting me as I walk down the stairs. I enter the kitchen, and I like what I see. He's in sage pants, brown suede shoes, a white shirt with a Russian collar, and a light beige linen jacket. The combination highlights his olive-coloured skin, and his teeth gleam whenever he smiles. God, he cleans up good! He greets me with a bouquet. We embrace for a light kiss, and his hand finds my ass, softly feeling to see if I'm keeping my end of the bargain. I laugh and pull away as he says, "So, are you wearing it?" "No. I decided to wear nothing underneath." He smiles, tells me that in either case I look divine, and hands me a shot-glass of grappa. He's turned me on to this potent peasant drink of his ancestors to the point that I almost prefer it over cognac. Definitely an acquired taste. I once suggested buying some grappa flutes, and he looked at me in astonishment. After mumbling something about damn yuppies, all he said was that grappa was an everyday drink to be drunk out of everyday glasses. He's adept at this balancing act of sophistication and earthiness; it comes through in everything he does, especially sex. We clink glasses and look into each other's eyes as we drink. The pungent fluid is hot and pleasantly burns its way to my stomach, from where the alcohol seems to transform itself and seep between my legs. He places his arm around me and draws me near, kissing the top of my head, and asks if I'm hungry. When I confess that I haven't eaten all day, he throws what remains of his drink down his throat, smiles, and leads the way to the car. During the drive to the centre of town, he tells me that we're going to the Garden, the 5-star restaurant at the resort hotel. I ask him if he's sure, adding that it's terribly expensive. He just smiles and effusively waves his hand, saying that it's been a while since treating ourselves. As I sit in the car, the little balls nestle themselves into the cleft of my ass. He sees me adjusting myself and asks how I feel down there. What do I say, "Pull over please, and eat me now"? Or how about, "Do you mind if I put my feet on the dash; I'm just going to diddle myself a little before supper?" I resist a pornographic response and answer with false calm that I'm certainly aware of their presence. Once we arrive at the hotel, he drops me off at the front and goes to park the car. As I enter the lobby, my heels click past the doorman holding open the entrance. I'm being massaged as I walk, my dampness multiplying with each step. Immediately, I spy a man sitting in the lobby who is sneaking peeks at my legs. Pretending that I haven't noticed, I turn my head away, letting him freely view my profile. After a short time, I fake an interest in a hanging photograph and position myself to allow him a good look at my backside. I'm feeling impish tonight, so I bend forward a little, as if to examine the picture more closely, sticking my ass out in the process. I grin to myself: If he only knew that I'm as good as naked under the short dress; what an eye-popper that would be. As a rule, I don't enjoy going out sans underwear. I tried it once and spent the whole evening in unease. But for whatever reason, I'm comfortable tonight, and delight in the lack of coverage provided by my thin strand of little spheres, not to mention their other salacious benefit. After parking the car, he comes up from behind and places his hands on my bare shoulders. I lean back into his chest for a brief snuggle, and then we follow the signs leading to the restaurant. The Maitre d' greets us and, after sorting out our reservation, leads us to a window table. I lower myself into a pulled out seat. Tonight, I'm special, sexy, and desirable, feelings augmented by the attentiveness of my date and the restaurant staff. I notice with relief that the white tablecloths hang low, so I need not worry about flashing someone accidentally. The tables are also wide enough apart that conversation can remain private. The décor is simple yet elegant, with the wood floor and burgundy-coloured walls giving a warm glow to the room. The wine steward appears, a woman dressed in a suit and tie, her jet-black hair tied back. The androgynous façade fails to hide that she's very beautiful. She greets us and goes through her recitation, telling us that the restaurant stocks over 800 labels and has more than 8,000 bottles in inventory. She leaves us with the wine list, which is more of a book. We lean towards each other to jointly examine the list. He opens it at random, and the page is heart stopping: $10,000 for a single bottle of champagne jumps out at both of us. Thankfully, it turns out that we've inadvertently opened to the most expensive page. After some nervous laughter, we regain our composure, decide to drink white tonight, and find four or five wines in the $50-60 range. When the steward returns, my date engages her in conversation, asking for a recommendation from our culled list, and we settle on an Australian Sauvignon Blanc. When she leaves, he looks at me and tells me that he loves me but that the Ten-Grand bottle was just a bit beyond his means. I laugh, swing my crossed legs out from under the table, strike a pose, and respond in my most sultry southern-belle voice: "Honey, I'd be worth... every... solitary... penny." He murmurs, "Yes, I certainly believe that you would be." But it's his scanning look that undoes me. His eyes narrow and focus into x-ray mode. He undresses me, his beam lowering the zipper, sliding the straps down my arms, and slowly dropping the top to expose and activate my breasts. Under his scrutiny, I'm conscious of the scintillation of my nipples—gathering, bulging, and pushing against the satin lining of my dress. He's examining my form and structure, my clothes barely diffracting his penetrating look. I absorb it and feel myself approach saturation. What little is left of my binding force becomes diffuse and weak. Suddenly, the waiter is at the table, interrupting the imaginary undressing, and presents us with the menu. The menu consists of six Table d'Hote selections, complete ten course dinners from appetisers to dessert. The waiter performs a long discourse on each of the choices. All of them sound fabulous. After discussing the various options, we both order meals with a seafood theme. Soon after, the wine arrives, and I watch him go through the ritual of tasting. He's confident, takes his time, and appears to know what he's doing. After he gives his approval, the wine is poured; we drink, toasting to tonight. The food is slowly brought out, one course at a time. The portions are small, thankfully, and the pace is leisurely. Between each course, water is poured into fresh glasses, allowing us to cleanse our palates for the upcoming fare. The service is first class; nothing is amiss. Part of our view includes a wall of hotel windows. I notice him watching intently, and, finally, he spies a window and points it out to me. A woman in a bathrobe is brushing her hair at the window. Both of us are telepathically trying to convince her to disrobe. For a brief second, it looks like she might obey our message, but then a man comes up from behind. She turns to kiss him, and the blinds close. We giggle over what could have been an interesting show. He bends to my ear and whispers: "I'd have made you stand at the window in your pearl thong, facing outside. I'd come up naked from behind and place my hands on your breasts, twisting your nipples just how you like it. You'd feel me against your ass and begin to play with yourself, your legs splayed apart, with one of them up on a chair. After a while, you'd drop to your knees and suck on me. Only then would I close the blinds, and very slowly at that." It's my turn to increase the heat: "I'd reopen the blinds. I'd turn you so that your profile would be in the window, then everyone could clearly see how I run my tongue up and down you. I'd rub my breasts into you and then suck on you as deep as I could and until you boil over. Then I'd close the blinds." He shifts in his chair, adjusting himself. I've made him deliciously uncomfortable, and I'm glad to have him join me as a partner in heat. We continue our word play, calling and raising the stakes, but manage to catch ourselves each time the waiter brings a new course to the table. Each fare is brought out on a clean plate with a fresh set of cutlery. After placing the dish in front of us, the waiter describes the food, origins of each ingredient, and methods used to cook it. He does this for all ten courses. A cornucopia of exotic ingredients are presented before us, making me salivate throughout the evening, my mouth in sinful balance with the flowing between my legs. This meal would have charged me up without the thong perpetually touching and gently splitting my lips apart. My senses are magnified to such an extreme that I'm convinced I can detect every ingredient in the food, down to the atomic level. Induced by wine, food, and titillation, a funny thought enters my head: I bend to tell it to him softly. "Smooth, hardened balls of oyster secretions are marinating in my own secretions, which in turn will have an element of the oysters that I've eaten tonight. My oyster is truly an oyster!" I smile slyly and arch my eyebrows. He absorbs the information, and a laugh plays on his lips. He speaks with contrived formality, adopting an outrageously bad British accent, while looking me in the eyes. "Raw oyster is my most beloved food. It has such an exquisite, helpless quality when opened; there it sits, exposed and quivering. I almost imagine that it's pleading to be eaten." I decide to play his vulgar opposite and ask, "Really? Hmm, maybe I could lay out a midnight buffet for you? I'm well known for my spreads. All you can eat. If you're hungry, that is?" "Oh, I have an insatiable appetite for oyster, and I accept your open offer. But, I'm curious as to your presentation: I prefer oyster au jus. When served in its own brine, the creature is at its best—a veritable inspiration. Truly, I find the nectar as delicate as the meat itself." "Don't fret, sweetie. I've supplied oyster lots of times: It's my featured item. Plenty of repeat customers. They love the sogginess; keeps them coming back for more." "Indeed, the oyster that you cater has gained a, how shall I say, widespread reputation, encompassing taste, bouquet, moistness, and display. Furthermore, all who have had the pleasure claim that no hostess is as hospitable. Warm, open, and inviting are the adjectives most frequently used." "Gee, thanks. I do like serving up my dish. Say, did you know that an oyster can be made to release more juice? You should see some of the things these guys do with an oyster. Make your head spin—sure made mine spin." "Ah, those are simple parlour tricks that any connoisseur worth his salt would know." "Does that mean you eat with your fingers? I like it when my guests use their hands. I find it very fulfilling." "As the occasion dictates; sometimes the oyster is so succulent that I consume directly from the platter. Other times, I will prod with my fingers and other utensils or items. All hostesses derive great enjoyment from my actions." "I bet they do! So, do you like it with or without the bristles? Most of my guests go bananas when I bring it out with no bristles. You'd think they hadn't eaten in a week!" "I am without prejudice: I consume—with gusto—whatever is placed before me. I gratefully appreciate the generosity of any hostess who makes available a sampling of oyster, be it bristled or scrubbed. But I confess a certain predilection for the latter; perhaps it's the knowledge of the preparation involved." Pearls in Oyster "I figured as much. Do you help with shucking the oyster? Haven't met a customer that didn't like doing that." "While all will engage in shucking, few are adept. My own technique involves an alternating action of shucking and eating. After each bout of shucking, I find that the oyster becomes more tender and lush, releasing a profuse amount of juice. Out of courtesy, I always offer my hostess a sampling of her shucked oyster, allowing her to taste the sauce directly from the shucking instrument." "Wow! That sounds like some party! I suppose that a hoity-toity expert such as yourself has chowed down on creamed oyster? I've found that a lot of my guests don't like it that much." "Philistines! I've eaten oyster a la creme numerous times, without apprehension: a rich, savoury delicacy indeed! But every hostess I've dined with has always required that I supply the cream. Most rude!" I'm restraining my laughter with all my might and manage to ask, "Hmmm. You're different. So how do you feel about smoked oyster?" "Madam! You remind me of a most unfortunate incident! Once, as I was about to partake of a morsel, a loud exhalation of acrid gas transpired very near to the oyster. My appetite was immediately suppressed. Smoked oyster? No, thank you!" He wins; I burst out laughing, unable to hold a straight face over our fertile banter. Fun and games, to be sure, yet I find myself getting awfully squirmy with the ripe, campy allusions. To add to my delectable distress, when I slide my bum forward to whisper to him, the thong tightens against me, pressing against my clitoris and opening; when I slide back, the pressure shifts to my anus and the cleft of my ass. I adjust positions on my seat as subtly as I can, varying the pressure and areas of contact. The sensations build to a point where I absolutely must go to the ladies room. In the stall, I have to battle an unladylike urge to hike up my dress, sit on the can, lean back, prop my feet apart on the door, and masturbate. Wouldn't that be something, to bring myself off in the Garden washroom? But I resist, maintain my dignity, do my business, pat myself dry, and return the pearls to their cove. The smouldering returns immediately. After washing my hands, I adjust my clothes and gingerly walk back to the table. He asks about my condition. The alcohol, feast, and sexual heat have loosened my tongue: I whisper what he wants to hear. "My cunt is on fire." His eyes widen with a look pleading for more information. I oblige. "It's so wet that I'm scared it'll show through my dress. I really wanted to finger-fuck myself, but I didn't." "I could do that for you later?" "mmm, that sounds yummy." The end is near. We're consuming dessert, a wonderfully dainty pastry topped, appropriately, with a passion fruit glaze. After this, just a plate of chocolats, the bill, and the drive home. We chat some more, idle talk with interspersed innuendo. The chocolates arrive, and they are absolutely divine, exploding in my mouth with rich, complex flavours. He handles the bill, signing the credit card slip, and we're on our way. The Maitre d' stops us at the door and, after enquiring if all was to our satisfaction, gives us a little package of chocolate truffles to enjoy tonight or in the morning. Again, I wait in the lobby as he goes to fetch the car. Disappointingly, there're no potential victims for some subtle exhibitionism. Oh well. He pulls up to the door, and I make my way to the vehicle, exaggerating my wiggle. He laughs as I get in. The drive home is preoccupied with reliving the banquet: favourite dishes, the wine, our hot sexy talk. Lots of laughter, and before I know it we've pulled into my driveway. I feel his hand on the small of my back as we walk up the steps to my place. His hand slides lower, ever so slowly to my ass. The pressure is light yet effective, but I can't help teasing him and ask, "I suppose you'd like to come in for a night cap?" "Yes, I would. But only if you behave yourself." "I'll be good. Very good." We start kissing as soon as we enter the house, his lips caressing my face and neck, his arms pressing me into him. I feel him grab my hair, gently but with purpose. I respond willingly; I've been in heat all night from looking at him across the table and absorbing the actions of my strategic rope of pearls. We stagger up the stairs toward my bedroom, groping and kissing along the way. He whispers to me, "You look so fabulous tonight! I've brought my digital. Let me take some pictures of you. Please." How can I resist? I answer by moving away from him and placing my arms above my head in a cheesecake pose. He quickly fumbles within his jacket for his camera. Soon it's out, and the shutter begins capturing me with digital clarity, pixelating me for his computer. He directs me into various poses, constantly telling me how great I look. Normally I would torment him during a session like this, playing coy until he begs me to remove an article of clothing, but tonight I can't wait. I undo the short zipper on my back, allowing him several shots before my dress falls to the floor. My back is turned to him. I'm clothed in only my thong and heels. It's his first glimpse of the lingerie against my body, with the pearls running down my backside like an exclamation mark. The frequent sounds of the camera thrill me. He's talking less, and when he does, it's obvious that his throat is dry and constricted. I'm pleased by my power to render him speechless. I grab my breasts, pinching my nipples, and turn to face him. He now sees that I've shaved myself for him. I can tell that he's zooming in on my crotch, my jutting lips and the pearls that divide them. The ooh's and ahh's coupled with the sounds of the camera are gratifying to an extreme. I strut to the bed and, sitting on the edge, begin taking off my shoes. He's abrupt: "No! Please. Leave them on." I smile and slip my pumps back on: I don't plan to be standing in them any more this evening. Indeed, I decide to take all of my weight off my feet, so I slowly lie down and raise my legs. They're together, straight up and down, and crossed at the ankles. I can feel the pearls pushing against me, but now I don't suppress the urges they incite. I spread myself open and use the thong to masturbate. He's zeroed in on me, framing my shaved crotch in high resolution, the shutter snapping images of the pearls juxtaposed with my labia and opening. His voice has returned; he's very bold now. He touches me, pulling outward on my lips, spreading my flaps apart, revealing my centre. I'm told that my entrance is only somewhat covered by the strand and that it will be a great photo. Each touch electrifies me, inducing currents of sex to flow from my core; each stroke initiates a line of force—a wild circuit from which I have no resistance—turning me into a dynamo of craving. I've been wet all night, but now I'm a torrent, with the soaked cleft of my backside as the litmus test. His adjustments of my pearls and labia become brazen. He manipulates my props and fires more shots. Now he wants an unobstructed view, so he moves the string to the side, petting me in the process. I feel him split me apart, fully exposing my fermenting cunt. I'm the one without a voice now. If I were to speak, it'd be incomprehensible babble interspersed with fuck, cock, and cunt as the only recognisable words. The camera flashes several times between each of his arrangements. His fingers slide into me with ease, working my opening. He tells me that he wants to widen me a bit for the next shots. God! I arch my back and stretch myself open to accommodate him. His look alternates between my eyes and cunt as his fingers plunge rhythmically into my moisture, creating a luxuriant squishing sound. He stops—prolonging my torture—and begins taking pictures of my gaping hole, asking me to widen it with my hands. My heat is near capacity, causing my rift to expand and my mind to divide into incongruent, near-orgasmic components. I want him to drop the damned camera and bring me to a climax. I know his game, and I adore playing it. He loves the contrast—a lady dressed to the 'nines, with a façade of class, giving in to wanton abandonment. But he senses my need. He dispenses with the camera and quickly strips himself of his clothes. His cock is erect, beautiful, and laden with potential. I remain open and exposed, my legs drawn up and apart, hungrily waiting for him. He mounts me, sliding into me entirely, seemingly filling my belly with his cock. My pelvis responds immediately, bucking with want. The sensations are gorgeous, intense, yet subtly different due to my lack of pubic hair. My clit, exposed and bare, is rubbing directly against him. I thrust wildly, trying to bring on the orgasm that's been teasing me all night. But he diabolically withdraws. All night I've been the one doing the teasing, but now it's him. I'm in a desperate state, almost insane with lust. He lowers his face into me and begins ever so gently to lick and nibble at my folds. His tongue wanders to my clit, bringing me ever closer to release. He senses that I'm almost there and then cruelly backs off, positioning himself next to me, his hand between my legs, fingers easily slipping in, stretching me, finding the special spot within. My hands have been busy with my nipples and cunt, but now one of them searches for his cock, fondling it with awe and desire. It's slippery from my insides, and the resulting sheen gives it a dazzling, edible lustre. He kisses me deeply and whispers next to my ear. "What kind of a woman would wear a pearl thong to dinner, and then let herself be photographed stretching her cunt open as wide as possible?" His talk is raw and earthy now. I eagerly co-operate, telling him that I'm a slut; I live to get fucked; I'll suck and drink his every drop, anything he wants, so long as he finally satisfies me. He's got me wild, fucking me with I-don't-know-how-many fingers, activating that spot, and making me respond to his sweet dirty talk. With his hand still buried within my sodden insides, he crawls on his knees towards my face and feeds me his cock. I devour it, wishing but unable to swallow him to his balls. "So you suck cock, too?" I manage a weak, preoccupied nod. "And you like sucking cock, especially while you're getting fucked?" That one gets me really hot. I answer him by opening my cunt even wider for his fingers, giving him greater access, and trying to take him yet deeper into my throat. I hear him groan and then say, "You're a real slut, aren't you? We need to let everyone know about you." He takes one of the truffles, withdraws himself from my throat, and, with his free hand, paints his erection with chocolate, mixing it with my saliva. He starts rubbing my face, smearing his candied cock onto my chin and cheeks. My mouth is frantically trying to grab him. Finally, I grasp enough of it with my lips to direct him into my throat, deeper than he or anyone has ever been before. The taste of chocolate cock and the stretching and selective rubbing of my insides have me close to coming. He gives me the final push by writing on my belly with the truffle. Across my stomach, I sense the word Slut printed out, branding me in decadent brown ink. I crave for him to write a thousand words upon my skin, describe in novel form how I open myself to the fullest for him, scribble poems dedicated to my depths and his knowledge of them: sonnets for the sweetness between my thighs, songs for the shape of my breasts and nipples, crude graffiti in praise of my tits and ass, odes worshipping my orgasms... And I'm there, transported to that singular, mystical place. I abandon and erupt with volume and exuberance, the sensations heightened by the concurrent intrusion of my cunt and mouth, the trickles of chocolate sliding down my throat, the emblazoned message on my torso, and the mad fractionated thoughts whirling in my head. My climax sets him on his path. His hips thrust with that divine, distinct urgency, and I ready myself for his gush of sperm, my palate anticipating a rich mixture of cream and chocolate. But he pulls out of my mouth, hurries to between my legs, and uses the base of his cock to rub my clit. Several strokes later followed by a convulsed cry, he sprays my breasts and belly, covering me with his sap. He's been aroused all evening, producing an opulent volume of seed: Every drop is expelled, drenching my body. He collapses beside me, spent. After recovering, we kiss softly. He rubs his milk into my breasts and tummy. There's so much creamy liquid that he massages some into my thighs, crotch, neck, and face. In turn, I rub my chest and stomach against him, ensuring that both of us are saturated with his scent. Eventually, I speak. "Thank you for the pearls: both sets were divine." We laugh at my little quip and spend some more time cuddling and whispering. At length, we kiss and drift off to sleep in each other's arms.