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Dark Release

By: wetfille



 (Natalie and Pierre are on vacation in Puerto Vallarta, where they play tennis for the right to dictate the control for their amorous activities. There are two previous installments: "Such Release" and "Deeper Release".)

* * * * *

Pierre stood silently in the doorway. It was 11:30 in the morning. Natalie was lying on her stomach on the bed, breathing silkily. Sleeping? No: her buttocks were moving, squeezing and lifting slightly, her back expanding and contracting with her breath. Her legs shifted apart, silvery in the curtained morning light. Then lifting faster. A muffled groan into her pillow. Her hips writhing as she fucked her hand underneath her. Like an electrocution: a muscular tensing of her entire body, then jolt after jolt, her back, buttocks and thighs rippling with each shock. Then the pulse dying, spasm after slower spasm. 

She was unaware of him. He had a good view of exquisite dunes of her body: her left side from here, and her right side in the mirrored sliding doors of the closet. Softly, he returned to the living room, tossing aside his National Geographic Adventure magazine. His cock was so hard. He brooded and looked out at the blue ocean sky. They would miss their tennis match today. 

It was just after one o'clock in the afternoon when she finally did surface. Her eyes fluttered shut and open where she stood in the doorway, her hands out on either side of the doorjamb. She was wearing a t-shirt, nothing else, the one foot resting on the other, her perfect leg bent at the knee. Her dark red hair fell down to her shoulders. Her lips were parted, her breasts rising and falling slightly. Her eyes kept fluttering, almost glazed, hypnotic. 

"Hi honey." She slid one of her hands over her bare thigh, gliding her fingertips over her mound under the hem of her t-shirt. "Hmmmmmm. God." She craned her neck up and shook her hair out, her nipples bouncing. 

"Hi, my lovely girl. Awake yet?" 

She smiled. She walked over to the edge of the balcony, kissed his forehead, then turned, her fingers slipping under the hem of her t-shirt again. "God." His eyes widened as she closed her eyes, bent slightly and slid her fingers down between her legs, and then back out. "Fuck." 

"What is it, baby?"

She exhaled noisily. "Just thinking. About last night." She started to slide her fingers back down between her legs then stopped, blushing slightly.

He could smell her scent: the scent of her masturbating earlier, the scent of her pussy right now, and the scent of fucking from last night. She picked up the other girl's gold lamé top from the coffee table and let it slide through her fingers. "Lara," she said dreamily, an indulgent crooked half smile on her face, "quite a girl." She leaned back against the balcony, facing him. As she lifted her elbows to lean against the balcony wall, her t-shirt rose to reveal her soft mound, her neatly trimmed pussy lips. They were pink and puffy. The tip of her clit, glistening pink, peeked out.

She went to the kitchen, poured them both a coffee. "I'll just be a few minutes," she said, taking a slice of melon with her back to the bedroom. 

He heard the shower turn on and then off. Odd. He got up and went to the door of the bedroom, where again he saw her reflected in the full-length mirror. She was naked, her t-shirt on the floor. She was leaning back against the curtained window, her legs spread, her fingers moving fast in and out of her cunt. She started to press her fingers down hard on her wet clit, stroking and circling, slowly bending at the waist, arching her back. She tensed and groaned, her body shuddering as she came suddenly, silhouetted in the sunlight, her breasts bouncing, nipples like small eyes. A quick intense orgasm. He was puzzled. They had masturbated often enough for each other; why was she being so private now? Then she opened her eyes, looked up at him. Caught. He smiled.

"Oh fuck. Oh honey." She turned deep red, then giggled nervously. "I just couldn't help it. I'll be fine now." She slumped on the bed, her ass on the edge, slouched forward, her breasts hanging down. "I need a shower."

He wasn't sure why, but he was feeling particularly driven, nasty, as he looked at her flushed skin. "Yes," he said. "You smell like cunt." 

She looked up at him, blushing deeper. She was in an unusual mood. 

"Feel better now?"

She nodded. 

"We missed our tennis game."

She smiled sheepishly. "I know. I suppose it's too hot to go out now."

"That's okay. I have a little surprise for you. Something you'll like." He looked at his watch. 

Her lips parted. "Uh huh?" He told her about the massage he had booked for her. 

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, as if shaking herself free from a spell. "God. Perfect." She leaned down and kissed his lips. "Where is the spa? God I'm so spaced out." 

He shook his head. "No spa. They just come up here with all the stuff. Wheel the table right in."

She nodded slowly, as if she were recording the information on some hard drive. She went back to the bedroom, and he could hear the hair blower going. He had never seen her like this, so dazed. She finally re-appeared in the living room in her robe, her hair dry, and walked out to the balcony, sitting opposite him. "What time is she coming?" 

"Three o'clock. But I think it's a he."

She was leaning back looking out at the beach down below, deep in thought. She had applied her lipstick and her nail polish: dark red lips, glossy, and dark red nails, also glossy. The breeze was licking at her cotton robe. She spread her thighs, looking up at him, one leg straight and the other bent. She had that same stare, almost glazed over, almost apologetic. 

Her hand went straight down to her pussy, he saw her fingers glide softly over her shaven lips. 

"Fuck," she said. 

She was doing it again. It was as if the woman before him was not his wife but a haunted replica of her, lost in some trance. He felt his cock grow. "You're quite the wanton girl today."

She nodded, and closed her eyes, whimpering. She moved her other hand down and spread her pussy lips, showing him the glistening opalescent skin of her inner lips. The fingers of her other hand slid slowly up and down her wet slit, her fingernail like a dark red bullet circling her clit as her hips lifted in arousal. He heard suck in her breath. Her hips were lifting rhythmically, the robe falling down the sides of her legs, her inner thighs taut with strain. 

He studied her, amazed. It was as if she were enfolded in some hypnotic envelope of heat and desire, uncontrollable. Soon, he could hear the wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her cunt, her sultry eyes focusing on his for a second and then drifting away. He leaned forward toward her and she quickly shook her head, just slipped two fingers inside her pussy and dragged them up over her clit. He could see she was getting close, her robe now open, her hard nipples swaying back and forth in the shadows of the sunlight. Then she gasped, shuddered, and the wetness covered her fingers as the spasms gripped her. "oohhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkk!"

She pressed her fingers hard over her mound as the spasms continued and then slowed, low groans floating away on the breeze. Finished, she gathered the robe around herself, her eyes fluttering closed and open. 

There was a loud knock at the door. Pierre's eyes widened, then he looked up at Natalie, and smiled slowly. "Your massage."

She uttered a low grunt, a low intake of breath. 

His name was Manuel, he said. Behind the massage table on wheels, he stood, tall, athletic, with a tight white t-shirt over his muscular chest, and tight white shorts, almost like tennis shorts, made of some stretchy material, like you see on tv aerobics shows. His long legs were typically dark, with clean white running shoes on his feet. Through his tight white t-shirt, his pecs were prominently etched, his nipples almost as evident as a woman's. He looked completely professional, but for one thing. Pierre smirked to himself. His cock, which Pierre imagined must not be erect, looked easily 7 inches long down the side of his thigh. Pierre guessed it was a sort of an advertisement, for extra services, if you liked what you saw.

"My name is Pierre." Pierre stood aside for him to wheel the table in. Manuel smiled at him, then looked at Natalie critically standing there leaning against the balcony door, silhouetted by the sunlit sky, her third orgasm of the day fading from her like a slow pink sunset. Pierre watched him put the brakes on the wheels, and take some towels from the shelf under the table. 

"And this is Natalie. She's the one who is having the massage. She's a little tight from tennis." 

Natalie moved from the balcony door as Manuel extended his hand. In that Latin way he was quite open about his perusal and enjoyment of the female form. "A pleasure to meet you, Natalie. A few sore muscles from tennis? We'll fix that."

He explained to her what he was going to do, that it would be 50 minutes long. 

"What do you want me to wear?" she said. 

Manuel grinned slightly. "It depends on how – how do you say it? – how bashful you are. Normally I just keep you covered with towels. Some women are shy."

Natalie smiled, almost chuckled to herself. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that with me. Shall I just lie down on the table in my robe? And you can do the rest?"

"That would be just fine, Natalie."

She lay down on the table, undoing the robe as she moved, so that Manuel could slide it off her as he replaced it with a sheet, making sure she was covered up. Natalie placed her face in the soft cloth ring at the head of the table. She just smiled at Pierre quickly before placing her face in the ring, and placed her arms down by her side. She had had massages before – she loved them – and knew the routine. 

Manuel started at her shoulders. "Now this will be sooooo relaxing Natalie. A regular tennis player, are you. You are very fit. Wonderful thing in a woman."

Pierre watched. Watched Manuel's fingers move into her soft, firm flesh, all down her shoulders to the small of her back. Every few minutes Natalie sighed. Manuel started then on her calves, the strong fingers circling them, lifting them, and then running over the backs of her knees. The backs of her knees were particularly sensitive. "Are you tight anywhere in particular?" he asked. His fingers moved in careful circles up and down the muscles of her thighs, toward her buttocks, neither subtle nor obvious, persistent. 

Natalie lifted her head briefly. "As a matter of fact, my butt. If you don't mind."

There was just a flicker of Manuel's eyebrows as he looked over at Pierre and then went back to his work. "Not at all, Natalie." He slowly kneaded his way up the back of her thighs, first one and then the other. Natalie's legs were slightly apart. Pierre wondered how puffy her pussy still was, how pungent the scent, and found his cock growing hard. Natalie had her head turned sideways, her eyes open as Manuel massaged first one buttock, then other. His cock had thickened in his shorts, but hadn't lengthened much, clearly outlined under his shorts about 18 inches from Natalie's eyes. She was watching it. Manuel dug his fingers in, kneaded her firm flesh, pulling her cheeks apart and together. Then he pulled the sheet up. 

"The front," he said. 

Natalie rolled over. Pierre licked his lips. Her nipples were two hard points, the only points, under the sheet. Manuel worked on her shoulders, her neck, then down her chest to the rise of her breasts, fingers sinking into her soft flesh, her nipples still hidden, but clearly pointed and hard. It was Natalie's sure sign of arousal. Then Manuel moved to her feet, her calves, slowly bent her knee up to stretch her thigh muscles, then put her leg down. Both legs. The sheet was barely covering her pussy. Clinically, professionally, he lifted her leg up, straight this time, stretching her hamstring. There was little he couldn't see with this little manoeuvre. He did it to the other leg also, carrying on as if no one else were in the room, as if there were nothing sexual about the movement. Then he massaged up her thighs, running his thumbs up the inside of her thighs to within a couple of inches of her pussy. Every few minutes Natalie issued a low sound, a half-groan, half moan. Her chest was lifting and falling, nipples creasing the sheet. 

Then he was finished, the hour was up. Pierre was almost disappointed. Natalie's face was flushed. She had an exhibitionistic streak, which she had displayed several times since their arrival in Mexico. She knew Pierre would be watching intently, aroused by the scene. It was always arousing for him to watch another man interested in his wife, trying to hold himself back but obviously wanting her. Manuel's cock was hard, and very visible, a fact he didn't bother to hide. Pierre smirked inside. He must meet quite a few couples who get a thrill from this, even if they didn't know it before. 

"The desk mentioned a special deal, three for the price of two," said Pierre. "Can you come back, tomorrow, Manuel? We will be playing tennis again, and I am sure Natalie will need another massage."

"Certainly, Sir. Same time?"

"Yes, that would be great!" 

Manuel looked down at Natalie lying under the sheet, her two nipples still hard points rising and falling with her breath. She opened her eyes dreamily, pulled her robe around her and sat up slowly, two full rounds of breast displayed briefly before she cinched the robe and slumped, almost drugged, over to the couch. She sank into it sighing and smiling. 

Manuel departed, wheeling his bed away. Pierre gave him a $20 tip as he left.

Pierre walked over to the couch, where Natalie was lying flat on her back, her arm over her forehead. "How was that, honey?"

She said nothing. She lifted her knees, her robe parting along her thighs, then falling to the side, her pussy exposed. "Please," she said. "I need to cum. Please. Just fuck me."

"You enjoyed that, did you, sexy girl? That young man's hands on your body, insinuating themselves into your flesh. And his cock, I know you couldn't miss his cock, so clearly outlined in his cute shorts." He parted her robe. As soon as the cloth parted from her waist and exposed her mound, he caught the scent of her wet cunt. Her lips were swollen, puffy and wet, she was lifting her mound and her hips toward him. He lowered his fingers down to her pussy, and slid his fingertips along her swollen, wet cuntlips. "Oooooh baby, yes, you enjoyed that." He slid two fingers inside her and listened to his hissing inhalation of breath. 

"Pleeeeasse" she breathed hoarsely.

He lifted his fingers directly to her clit, then down between her lips. They sunk into her so easily, so wetly he was amazed. She gasped and jerked. His cock was straining inside his shorts. With his other hand he pulled his shorts down, and let his hard thick member stand out, erect and shining. He was raging from watching her cum already that day, from watching the muscular Manuel manipulate her body. Through slitted, heavy-lidded eyes she watched him as his hand wrapped around the swollen, ridged shaft. He pumped slowly, steadily, his other fingers working in her wet cleft. He knew it wouldn't take her long, and he knew it wouldn't take him long either. She started to lift and shift her hips more vigorously as he dipped his fingers inside her, and then circled her clit. A drop fell from the tip of his cock onto her belly. She shuddered as she watched. He stroked faster. Neither of them said a word. Soon she was breathing more hoarsely, uttering low grunts as he fucked her with his fingers. Drops fell more freely from the full ripe shiny head of his cock. He started to groan. He was going to spurt any moment. Finally she lifted her hips, her body went completely rigid. It sent him over the edge. As she came, her head thrashing from side to side as he fingered her mercilessly, he shot his own cum over her belly and the back of the couch. Long thick ropes of cum over her skin, on her mound, on her shaking, quaking flesh. They both groaned loud and long. 

As the orgasms subsided, Pierre looked down at her, still breathing hard. She had her forearm over her brow now, shielding her eyes. "God," she said. "Thank you."

He wiped himself off on the hem of her robe. In a few minutes, she had drifted into a comfortable late afternoon doze. Such a wanton, needy girl. 

When she awoke from her short doze, she went to have another shower, washing away the oil from the massage. 

They went to see the folkloric dancing that night. Natalie said she wasn't in the mood for a night out; she didn't know what had come over her. She smiled at Pierre sheepishly. "I just can't get my mind off fucking. Hard, nasty fucking. Maybe something like that show will break the spell."

But it didn't. She wore a loose silk top, and a matching sarong out to the show. Half way through, Pierre saw her fingers scratching along her thigh, then moving into the slit, and finally under the material. Very surreptitiously, but evident to Pierre, she was fingering herself. Her legs started to shift, and Pierre could see her nipples rising and falling against the soft blue silk, hard little points. Soon she was trembling, shuddering as the people around her simply oooohed and aaaahed at the dancing. She moved her fingers out, looking over at him sheepishly, and licked the ends. 

Pierre gulped and ran his hand along his hard cock. She was amazing. 

Afterward, they walked home, Natalie leaning right into him, almost as if he were a nest, safe and secure, protecting her from something. Maybe herself, Pierre thought. She went straight to sleep. 

Next morning, Natalie was up before Pierre. He was awakened by the tapping of her tennis racquet on his thigh, scratching its way up and then lifting his cock. The cool metal of the frame tickled the length of his soft cock, arousing it into semi-hardness. "I'm going out to hit some balls, honey. See you on the court." She leaned down and kissed his lengthening cock, then turned on her heel, twirling her pleated tennis skirt so that he saw she was wearing no panties again. 

When Pierre got out to the tennis court, Natalie was sitting on the bench next to the court, in a daze. She was staring straight ahead, and even after she saw him and smiled, she still looked a little stunned. Her cheeks were flushed, although by now her tan was starting to cover up the colour of her face. There was sweat on her upper lip and on her cheeks, and trickling down her throat between her breasts. Her nipples, as always these days it seemed, were hard, penetrating through her tennis shirt.

"Let's go," she said, lifting herself up from the bench like an automaton, heading to her side of the net.

Despite the daze Pierre thought she was in, she just killed him on the court. Even worse than last time. When they met at the net at the end of the match to kiss, Pierre looked at her more carefully. Something was definitely going on in his wife's head, in her entire headspace. "You were a machine out there today! Where did you get all those shots from?"

She nodded, smiled and bit her lip. "I needed to win. I have been focusing all morning." Her gaze suddenly softened a bit, she looked away, nervous, and then looked back at him. "I won, so you have to give me what I want. Right?"

"Sure, baby."

"You have to promise me. You won't be scared."

Pierre raised his eyebrows, thinking of what he might be scared of, but decided he had to say yes, partly because that was part of the game, but also because he was intensely curious about what his wife could want. "I promise."

***

She made him wait in the living room. She slipped out of her tennis dress. She looked at her naked body in the mirror, her glinting navel stud. 


Dark Release



Slut. For two days she had been rolling the word around in her mouth like a hard candy. It was a word that had always made Natalie shudder, since she was a teenager. Back then, she had watched with fascination at those girls, girls at dances with their dark looks, who flashed their eyes, wore lipstick and left for somewhere outside before the dance was over. Or they would walk into the cafeteria, sullen, and sway slowly, their curves so pronounced, and without effort attract the glances of all the boys, good and bad. One of those girls could come in and pollinate an entire room, it seemed, moving from cluster to cluster of boys, spreading pheromones. Natalie would go back to class, carrying her books over her chest that she suddenly became so conscious of. In those days you always had to wear white for a tennis tournament, and she would check herself out in the mirror, her skirt shorter than anything those girls wore, but of course wearing something like that for tennis was different. Her jersey was tight over her full breasts. She knew her legs were fabulous. She wondered if dressed like that she had the same effect on boys as those girls did. Those sluts.

Slut: what propelled the word across her mind now was the image of the other night, when they had been with Debbie and pretty little sexy Lara. Lara doing everything Debbie said, describing herself as Debbie's slut, and proud of it. But Natalie's reaction now, as an honest 40 year old, was different from her reaction as an insecure teenager. Now there was almost admiration there. 

"Are you standing in the middle of the room?" she said from behind the door. 

"Yes." Pierre was mildly bewildered.

"Okay then."

Natalie appeared completely naked. Her hair was done very prettily, silky and shining. Pierre could smell her perfume. She placed one small foot in front of the other, then stopped in front of him, a couple of feet away. She looked both nervous and confident, as if she had made a decision that was firm in her mind, but didn't know how Pierre would react. 

She dropped slowly to her knees. Then she spread them, so that her pussy was open as far as it could be while she was on her knees. 

"I want you to make me your slut," she said. She blushed, glad it was out. 

He looked down at her, grasping for words.

"I want to be your slut. I want you to use me however you want. I will do whatever you want, whatever fantasy you want to turn into reality, with whomever. I want to be your complete slut, to be used and fucked. However you want." She paused. "I won the bet. That's what I want."

It was a moment of incredible vulnerability, and Pierre's heart swelled with emotion. He stood there, open-mouthed, looking down at his naked wife, her chest rising and falling, her nipples hard. He reached down and pinched her nipple, twisting it, then stood up. She closed her eyes and whimpered. They had both read books, erotic stories, sex books, that talked about this fantasy.

He was thinking furiously. "What brought this on?"

"It was Lara," she explained. "Seeing her, how on fire she was, how free she was to do anything, her Mistress told her. Set me on fire. I want that freedom."

"Quite a responsibility," he said. Then he slowly smiled. "But one I am up to. Is this for one night, then?"

Natalie smiled slightly and lowered her eyes. "I don't think so. I'm planning on winning a lot more tennis games." 

"My slut. My personal slut." He looked down at her. "Just trying it out."

"Slut." He looked down at her, her nipples hard, the aureoles crinkled. "Suck my cock."

She leaned forward, unzipped his tennis shorts, pulled them down along with his briefs, and slid her fingers up along his thighs, one hand cupping his balls and the other lifting his thickening cock toward her mouth. It was exquisite. She took him into her mouth before he was completely hard. He loved this sensation, of his cock growing in her mouth. He loved it when she rolled her tongue around the head of his cock, took his cock deep into her mouth so he could feel it at the back of her throat, or when she took it out of her mouth and flicked her tongue over the sensitive spot on the underside of the crown. Sometimes she would make him cum just by licking him there. He loved it best when he made him cum without stroking him with her hand. Now she was moving her mouth back and forth slowly along the length of his shaft, sucking and licking as she went. He felt the cum starting to compress in his balls. He spread his feet apart a little wider. His hands sank into her dark red hair, not to help him fuck her mouth, but because he liked the feel of her hair, liked the feel of how she was moving on his cock. It drove him wild. Soon, he could feel he was ready to cum. He started to shake. To shudder. Felt the surge of the explosion tighten all his muscles, getting ready to erupt.

The first hard spurt into her mouth. Then another. And another. Hot jets of white hot cum into her hot mouth. 

She sucked him dry. Attentively and lovingly. Her tongue ran up and down his shaft, licking him perfectly clean. Then her hand went to her pussy, starting to finger herself.

"Stop that," Pierre said swiftly. "If you are going to be my slut, then you are going to have to cum when I tell you to." Then he leaned down and sank two fingers deep into her hot, wet cunt. "Unless, of course, you just can't control it."

She looked up, her hand frozen, realizing she had to do what he said. If she was to experience it fully. She pouted. "I don't know if I can."

She whimpered, and ground her pussy against his hand. Then he took it away. "Here, lick my fingers clean, my wanton girl."

She licked them clean. 

"Why don't you get up now." He looked at his watch. "Manuel will be here soon. Go and get your robe, and we'll talk about your massage."

She looked up, her lips red and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes widened, as if she had forgotten the massage. He could smell the scent of her wet sex. 

Yes, he thought. This was just right. 

Fifteen minutes later, fresh from the shower, she appeared in her cotton robe. 

He crooked his finger, beckoning her. When she stopped in front of him, he parted her robe, pressing her thighs apart, and then slid his fingers along her wet cuntlips. "You didn't cum in the shower, did you?"

She shook her head, the dark wavy curls settling on her shoulders. "I wanted to."

"Good. Because if I am correct, then soon you will be out of control, regardless of how hard you try. You saw how big a cock Manuel had, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips, remembering yesterday's massage. "Yes."

He kept moving his fingers over her labia slowly, spreading her wetness over the outer lips. "You find it easy to imagine that cock inside you, don't you?" He slid a finger slowly up her pussy, accompanied by her intake of breath.

"Yesssssss," she hissed, and bent at the waist slightly before straightening up. 

"You felt his cock brush your hand yesterday, didn't you? You wanted to close your hand over it, pump it, close your lips over it and suck it, didn't you?" He slid his wet fingers up over her clit, circling it slowly.

"Oh god. Yesssss." She trembled at the touch of his fingers, at the image in her mind of Manuel's cock in her mouth. 

He took his fingers away. "Yes, I thought so. You did a good job of sucking my cock, by the way." He sank his fingers into her hair, slowly grasping it tighter and tighter, slowly bending her head back and opening her robe, pinching her left nipple with his fingers. "So you want to be my slut."

"Yes. Oh yes. A naughty, wanton slut."

"The idea of surrendering yourself, of opening yourself up to be used, and tormented, and fucked as I see fit, that arouses you? The idea of knowing I that I know how you respond, what you like, what you crave, and that I am going to push you further and further, as far as your imagination can imagine: that arouses you? Does it, my lovely Natalie?"

Pierre slid his fingers back to her pussy, and, if possible, she was wetter. 

"God yes," she said. 

He pushed his fingers deeper inside her. "Good." He kept massaging, watching her lift onto her toes, whimpering. "Now I will tell you what you are to do this afternoon. He will be here in ten minutes or so. You will enjoy your massage, you will tease him a little, then tease him a lot, then take his cock out, and make sure he has a good hard orgasm. I want to see him cum hard, angel." He felt her cunt muscles clamp down on his fingers as he reached deeper and massaged her g-spot. Then he stopped, slipped her fingers out, and she whimpered in frustration. 

"Of course, I expect he will make you cum, too. Let's see how you do."

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Natalie hung back, her cheeks flushed, licking her lips, thinking about her task, her pussy on fire. She wondered if she was dripping; she could certainly smell herself. Pierre's words echoed in her mind as she heard him greet Manuel at the door, pushing his massage table in. They spoke in Spanish, of which she didn't understand a word. Then she saw a $50 bill change hands. The fee, she presumed.

Manuel looked at her slowly, pushing the massage table ahead of him. He smiled wide, his teeth white against his swarthy face. She hopped up on the table without waiting for him to ask her; Pierre went over to his chair in the corner about ten feet away. He smiled at Manuel and nodded, then smiled at Natalie. Natalie undid the knot of her robe, then rolled over on her tummy. As she did so, she saw that Manuel's cock was already hard. 

She felt his hands lift her robe up, then slowly tug it off her shoulders, applying just a little pressure to get her to lift up so he could remove it completely. She waited for him to cover her with the towel, but it didn't happen. So she was going to stay naked. A thrill pulsed through her. She felt his hand sliding gently up from her heel, over her calf and then her thigh, her buttock and up along her back to her shoulder, so warm. He pressed his crotch against the side of the table right in front of her eyes, turned to the right, and she swallowed – his cock was bulging, clearly outlined, not 12 inches from her eyes. 

Then his hand over her back, wet with the mixture of oil and water, so warm, fingers kneading. Then down the small of her back, and quickly over her buttocks, down to her ankles. Slow circling of the base of her calves, fingers pressing then up her calves, slick and warm, the backs of her knees. She shivered, it was so sensitive there. Then up the backs of her thighs. She knew her cuntlips were swollen. They were swollen before she even lay down. She parted her legs a little. His fingers moved up the backs of her thighs to the base of her buttocks, kneading harder. Kneading her buttocks then. She felt his fingers reaching through her muscles, moving her inside. It was so erotic. Her body felt on fire. 

He moved his hands down the backs of her thighs, and as he did so she felt something brush her hand at her side. She was sure it was his cock. She opened her hand a little more. His hands kneaded the oil into the muscles of her upper thighs now, his fingertips reaching around the inside of her thighs. She ached for him to touch her. She knew Pierre was watching, wanting to see her arousal. Then she felt it brush her hand again, this time not moving away, but staying for a few seconds, pressing into her fingers. She closed them slightly, and felt the long thickness of his shaft. He moved his fingers up over her buttocks, and then slid them down the crack of her ass. So sensitive there. Yes she was thinking, yes. Just touch my pussy. Just once, for now. Then I can hold off a little longer. But instead he moved to her shoulders. Took his cock out of her hand. It reappeared inches from her face again. She could see the length of it, clearly outlined. The bulging head, its helmet outlined, and the ridges and veins. She opened her lips and closed them. 

"Could you turn over now?" he asked, and pressed her upper arm and hip with his two hands. Without hesitation, and with a heavy-lidded smile on her face, she rolled over. She was completely exposed now, and it excited her. She new her nipples were rock hard. She knew that the scent from her cunt would be unmistakeable. She placed her hands at her sides as he dipped his fingers into the bowl of oil and water and dripped it over her body. First her tummy, then her breasts, then down her thighs. She felt the trickles starting to move down her skin. Down her breasts, down the insides of her thighs. She smiled at him as he placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly massaging down her front. She squirmed just slightly, sinking herself into the deliciousness of giving herself to the moment, and the deeper delight of knowing Pierre was not more than 15 feet away, watching, his cock hard, almost willing her over the edge. Yessssss she felt, exulting in her freedom. Slut. I am allowed to feel these things. To cum when and how he decides. It was beautiful. It was what she was meant to be. 

Pierre watched from fifteen feet away. Manuel was moving expertly. His hands had caressed all the important inches of her back and her buttocks and thighs. He had seen her unable to resist parting her legs a little. He could feel her urging Manuel to touch her, yes just touch her once right there, right along her swollen labia. But he didn't. Pierre smiled and applauded inside. 

Now on her front he watched Manuel begin to knead her shoulders, then down her front, down to her ribcage, then the sides of her breasts, lifting them slightly, the nipples hard. Aching, he knew to be touched: pinched, pulled, bitten, twisted. He watched Manuel's hands move down her stomach now, her tummy rising and falling faster, doing all those internal flips, urging the fingers toward her cunt. Toward her slut cunt. He shifted in his chair and just let his own cock ache. Her skin glistened. He could see the rising and falling of her mound now. Yes, it was what he thought he saw: her open hand brushing against his thick, hard bulge, the back of her fingers just grazing the hard curve of his thick shaft. 

Natalie knew her cunt was swollen, and wet, and dripping. She felt his hands now moving up her thighs, kneading in small circles closer and closer to her pussy, and she felt herself pushing down toward his fingers. Her mound on fire, her clit aching to be touched, aching. Closer and closer were his fingers. She shifted her legs open a little more. She wondered what he thought of her soft little tuft of hair, her silky bare pussy lips, pink and glistening. She pressed her fingers harder against his bulge, turned them and ran them along his shaft through his tight shorts, her fingertips tracing the length of it, to the soft, firm head. With her head turned, she saw his cock pointing at her, and yes, a small drop of wetness right through the very end. She scratched along it again, feeling him press now into her hand. God she wanted him to sink his fingers in her cunt. She pushed her mound up obviously. She smiled. What could be more wanton? 

But he had other ideas. He left her thighs entirely, leaving the heated imprint of his fingers inches from her aching cunt. She groaned when she felt his hands moving up her belly now, and firmly, expertly lifting her breasts, spreading the oil around them. He sank his fingers into her firm, full breasts, pushing his fingertips into her nipples. The electric charge ran through her. It almost made her cum.

She lifted her hand and bent it back to run her fingers along his cock again, in his new position, at her shoulder, not inches from her face. She pressed her fingers harder against it. The hard long thick shaft. God it looked long. Thick. She slipped her fingers under the elastic at his waist, and pulled down. She had to see it. First the head emerged, thick and purple, shining. Gawd. As awkward as it was, she was able to tug his shorts down further. More of his shaft became visible, gradually, till all of it was there. Her eyes widened. It was lovely and thick and long, pointing straight out now, straight at her face. His fingers on her nipples now were driving her wild. She could feel the heat everywhere, even in her toes. 

She had to have it in her mouth. She moved her head slightly forward, her tongue flicking it. Running her tongue over the shining, leaking head. She could feel him slowly pushing toward her, and she felt the thick heat enter her lips. Her tongue circled and circled it, she sucked, flicking along the sensitive underside. Her fingers cupped his balls now, tight and hard. He started moving slowly back and forth, and she felt the thick ridged member slide deeper into her mouth, her wanting mouth, her slut mouth, she said to herself. Then out. She closed her eyes, and pictured Pierre watching her do this, wanting to do it so well, so he would be proud of her, happy with her. 

Manuel's cock left her mouth with a plop. She opened her eyes in shock. He moved his hands down her sides now, moving away, his cock out straight, thick and hard. He stood at her feet. Slowly he pulled her down the table. Yes, she thought, gawd yes. She felt her knees bending over the end of the table, then his hands sliding up her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. This time they didn't stop. She moaned as soon as his fingers touched her pussy. He began a slow, firm pussy massage, parting her lips, sliding them aside, running his fingertips through the wetness, careful not to touch her clit. She was screaming inside. Then he pulled her down further. She felt her ass on the edge of the table. God yes, she thought. She felt his thighs then moving up her spread thighs. She looked down. His cock was gliding along the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her skin was glistening with oil and need. He moved like a dancer, slowly, deliberately. She felt the tip of his cock now against her labia, then sliding up her slit. She wondered what its thickness would feel like inside her. She needed to know! But he teased her. Slid the tip up her slit, parting her pussy lips. She jerked as the tip touched her clit. He held his cock in his hand and circled her clit. 

Gawd she was going to cum. She couldn't stop it. But he pulled back just as she was about to go over the edge. She bucked forward, trying to pull him back in, but his cock had moved down her slit, and she felt it at her pussyhole now. She felt the orgasm still hanging there. She might not be able to stop it anyway. She spread her legs wider now, unashamed, needy and wet. He pushed. She felt the first delirious inch enter her, then slowly deeper, and deeper, until it filled her entirely. He pulled out once, and she cried out, then he pushed back in. Two more strokes later, and she was over the edge, shaking and shuddering. She cried out, thrashing her head from side to side, the orgasm washing over her in strong waves, crashing against the shore. Her body went rigid, riding against him, and finally she slowed down, calming. Manuel stood between her legs, moving very little, slowly in and out still. Obviously he hadn't cum.

She could feel his thick hard cock inside her, unfamiliar and yet so good. She lifted her fingers and motioned him toward her. He pulled out of her cunt and moved beside her head. The thick cock glistened in front of her eyes. She could smell her own sex on him. Without hesitation she placed the fingers of her small, soft hand around his shaft and pulled him closer. She felt the thick heat again, slipped her tongue against his little hole, then circled his head again and again. She felt him pumping in slowly, and out. She bobbed her head slowly. She could feel the hardness of his vein underneath. How ready it was to spurt. She wanted to feel it, feel the hot white cum in her mouth, down her throat. She sucked, she flicked, she ran her tongue around his cock inside her mouth. Then she could feel it. He was on the edge. He was moving faster. She hummed, so he could feel the vibration on his cock. Then it started. The spasms moving up his cock like a ripple. Precum started streaming out, then the stronger spasms. She sucked, licked, feeling the hot spurts filling her mouth. She swallowed. He groaned and pushed, thrusting his cum into her. 




Dark Release



She sucked him dry. He pulled his cock out and smiled down at her, bent down and kissed her shoulder, then stood up and pushed his semi-hard cock back into his tight shorts. He turned toward to Pierre. "Manana?" he said. 

Pierre nodded vigorously. "Oh si!" He held out a $50 bill for Manuel, who departed with a wide smile. 

Pierre got up, walked over to his wife lying on the massage table still, her lips rosy from sucking Manuel's cock, her thighs hanging over the end, her legs still spread. He smiled down at her. "You were beautiful baby. A good start for my slut."

He moved between her legs, undid his shorts and pulled out his own cock, placing his hands on Natalie's spread legs. "Now I'm going to fuck you." Without hesitation he moved his cock to her cunt and plunged it into her. She cried out. He thrust into her hard. Over and over. She cried out with each thrust, cumming within minutes. Feeling her spasms sent him over the edge, and he drove into her. Pulsing deep into her, fucking her hard and cumming, shooting his cum deep into her waiting cunt. When he was finished, and he leaned down and kissed her nipples. He pulled out of her and left his cock hanging down, semi-hard and slowly subsiding. 

He moved up to the top of the table and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and held him tightly. 

"Oh honey I have never felt like this. You are so wonderful."

He reached over and pinched her nipple. "Oh the day is not finished, my love. This was just a warm-up."

Her eyes widened. She was hungry. "Oh god," she said. 

***

When Natalie woke up from her nap, Pierre wasn't there. She looked out the window and saw him downstairs engaged in conversation with Debbie, the woman they had met a couple of nights ago. The woman who had the slut of her own, Lara. Natalie sat back down on the bed, smiling at the memory. 

About half an hour later Pierre arrived back at the condo. Natalie was sitting on the balcony, her robe open on her naked body in the sun. He bent over and kissed her. 

"I'm glad you haven't got dressed. I have plans for you."

"Oh really?" She looked up dreamily. 

"Oh yes. Something very very special. But I am going to dress you properly for it. Debbie and Lara will be here at 6 to get us."

She looked up and raised her eyebrows wickedly. 

"Slut." He said, feeling his cock surge.

Natalie just hissed her breath out. "yessssssss…" she said. 

Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. 

"All right," Pierre said. "Just stand in the middle of the room. From now on you do what you are told. If you don't know, then you have to ask. Understand?" 

Natalie's face shone. "Yes Sir."

Pierre nodded, his cock surging again. 

Debbie had told him sort of what to expect, but he was still not quite prepared. Lara in a tight silver dress, stretchy, made of something shiny, with spaghetti straps. It left very little to the imagination, except perhaps exactly what her nipples might look like that poked through the material. Over her shoulder she carried a large silver leather shoulder bag. Debbie in a black shiny tube top, corset-like. Black leather skirt. Her tanned legs muscular and shapely. Black sandals with a heel and several straps over the top of her foot. 

"Do come in," Pierre for his part was dressed in a loose cotton shirt, long-sleeved, and loose linen trousers. His cock was hanging free inside, no underwear. 

"So where is she? This girl who wants to prove herself? Let's have a look at her."

Pierre made a gesture with his hand and showed the way to Natalie standing in the middle of the room, silently, her face flushed, her hands folded in front of her. Debbie walked over to her languidly, her eyes studying, assessing. "Hmmmm," she said, walking around the lovely woman. Natalie tossed her head nervously, her dark red hair curling and bouncing on her shoulders. "Lara," Debbie said, summoning the blonde girl. Lara came over, and Debbie reached inside the bag and pulled out a small black stick, like a flexible poker. Later, Pierre realized it was a crop. Debbie flashed a smile up at Pierre. "You did a good job of dressing her. She looks the part." Debbie tapped the crop on Natalie's shoulder. "How do you feel, dressed so prettily, Natalie?"

Natalie turned her head slightly, her cheeks flushed. "I want to be dressed like this. It makes me warm. Excited."

Her one shoulder was bare. She was wearing a blue and silver one-shoulder stretch top that came to a few inches below her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling, her nipples hard. She had on a matching short skirt, stretched around her lovely ass, below which her muscular legs tensed and released. On her feet she had sandals with a heel, with thin leather that laced around her foot and ankle. 

Debbie dragged the crop down her back, over her ass, tapping her buttock once firmly but lightly. "And you know the rules?" She stood right in front of Natalie for a minute and lifted the waiting woman's chin in her fingers. "Because you have to listen to them carefully. I have made an exception for you, Natalie. Because I got to know you the other night, and you were so exquisite. I was impressed with your potential. Pierre has promised that you will do what you were told, but I have to tell you myself, hear it from your own lips. We are going to a special club, one that Lara and I come to when we are here in Puerto Vallarta. It is very exclusive. We are known there. You are very lucky that it has worked out. If Pierre had waited until tomorrow, it would have been too late. Do you follow me?"

Natalie's face was radiant. "Yes. I follow you. I will do what I am told. Everything. As long as Pierre is there. Is that right?"

"Perfect." Debbie slid the crop down to the hem of Natalie's skirt, to her bare thigh, and scratched it there, then dragged it around her hip, down her front, down the front of her skirt till it moved below her skirt again, sliding against the inside of her thigh. She took it away and dragged it over her hard nipple, then tapped the nipple several times. Natalie gasped slightly. "We will start now. You will call me Miss, or Mistress. Everyone else you call by their name. You are properly dressed? Underneath, I mean?"

Natalie nodded eagerly. "Yes Miss. Mistress." She was trying out the words in her mouth, gulping. 

"Show me."

Natalie looked at her for clarification, then when none was forthcoming she lowered her fingertips to her skirt hem and lifted it. Once it was above her pussy everyone in the room could see she was wearing no panties, her pussy with its small tuft of hair and shaven lips exposed to the air. 

Debbie looked down, her arms crossed as Natalie held her skirt up. "Lara, come and tell me what you think." 

Inside, Natalie burned with the most intense swirl of need and vulnerability, exposure. Her face felt hot. She realized that she was plunging in now, that Pierre had truly taken her at her word, that he had seized the opportunity presented to them by meeting Debbie and Lara two nights earlier. Her nipples tingled. She had felt a thousand tiny explosions traced down her skin as Debbie had trailed the crop down her back and over her thigh, and then tapped it against her nipple. Lara came over, and looked carefully at Natalie's exposed pussy. Natalie looked down at Lara who was bending over to have a good look. She looked so damn sexy. 

"How eager do you think she is, Lara? Tell me. Test her."

Test her. Natalie's breathing became quick and shallow. When Lara's fingers touched the inside of her thigh she twitched and her face turned deep red. She turned immediately to seek out Pierre's eyes. She didn't know why there was this sudden doubt. But there he was, nodding and smiling very slightly as Lara's fingers slid up her thigh. She trembled. She had never been touched by a woman before. She felt Lara's nails get closer to her pussy and she started to breathe more heavily. She knew she must be dripping. Lara's fingers gently pushed on her thighs and she spread her legs. Lara's fingers on her pussy lips were electric. Natalie whimpered loudly and bit her lip, her legs shaking. She felt the fingers moving slowly up and down, along her slit, then move away, sudden cool air passing over her wet pussy. She closed her legs. 

"Yes Mistress. She is eager. She will be a good little slut." Natalie watched Lara lick her fingers, tasting Natalie's juices. 

"Very good, my darling. Does she taste good? Natalie, you can put your skirt down now. We are leaving."

Their taxi drove them down to the south side of Puerto Vallarta, just outside the town. There was no name on the door, nothing to indicate it was a club. Debbie opened the door and Lara led the way. 

Inside they were in a different world. Music was playing, a sort of techno-Latin music, not terribly loud. It was like a grotto. The room they entered, once Debbie had said her hellos to the men and women at the entry – a couple of them were certainly bouncers – was a large room with booths, and about a dozen curtained doorways leading off it. A long bar was along one side. Debbie seemed to know where to go; she went directly to one curtained doorway and walked through it. Natalie watched Pierre looking around, taking it all in. She brushed her hand over him, feeling the bulge of his cock. God, she thought, he is this aroused and we haven't even started. 

Natalie was amazed by the room they entered. It was only slightly smaller than the room they left. There were some leather chairs and sofas at one side, around a small stage. The effect of the walls was of the inside of a cave – irregular, with some plush velvet or similar fabric on them, it seemed. It was only later that she noticed the black rings on the walls, the bars close to the ceiling. 

"Natalie, you can just stand by the table and help with the champagne when it arrives. 

A tall young man, shirtless, arrived to pour them some champagne. He must have been in his early twenties, and he obviously worked out. He had a sculpted body, well-tanned. 

"Ah Rolf you are here!" squealed Debbie. "Wonderful. Meet Pierre and Natalie. Natalie will be helping you tonight. Another bottle of champagne is coming?"

"Yes," the tall, dark, smiling Rolf said. "Luke is bringing it." 

"Ah Luke. Perfect. So how do you like our pretty visitor?" she said, pointing to Natalie. 

The dark red-haired woman smiled and stood still while Rolf looked at her. His eyes danced over her. Natalie's own eyes went over his chest, his muscular shoulders. He placed his hand on her shoulder, then slid it down her side to her hip. 

"Very pretty. Lovely to have you join us tonight, Natalie. It will be a pleasure, I know." 

Everyone was sipping champagne. Lara was full of mischief, and stood up, going over to Rolf, sliding her fingers down Rolf's chest, then taking his right nipple in her lips, flicking it with her tongue. Debbie laughed. Rolf grabbed Lara's ass with one hand and pressed his thigh into her crotch, to which she responded by grinding herself against his hard thigh. 

"Lara, just control yourself for a bit. Honestly. I have different plans tonight." Another young man entered the room. Luke, evidently. He brought another champagne bucket. Like Rolf, he was shirtless, with blond hair, very tanned, in his early twenties obviously, and equally muscular, but with one difference: he had a small ring in each nipple. They glinted in the low light. There was another round of introductions. Pierre sipped, wondering what was going to happen. 

Debbie was in control. She reached into the leather bag Lara had carried in, and brought out her crop again. She reached forward and swatted Lara on the rear end, causing her girl to squeal. "Don't ignore Natalie. Remember tonight she is our little bonbon…" Bonbon: such a simple word; when Debbie spoke it properly accented, she sounded as if she were used to speaking French. Debbie turned to Pierre and raised her glass.

Lara turned her head back around mischievously, blew Debbie a little kiss and took the two young men, still shirtless, over to Natalie. Lara folded her soft hands over Natalie's bare shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. "So how do you like Luke and Rolf?" She cupped her hands as if to hide what she was saying from the two men, but everyone heard it. "They are both perfect boytoys, born for women to use. What do you think of them?" She took Natalie's right hand and pressed it against Luke's chest, dragging it down over his pecs, flicking the ring in his nipple. Natalie left her hand on his chest and just slid it softly up and down over his muscular chest, her nails lifting his right nipple ring, then moving down his abdominal muscles. He smirked at her over the glass of champagne at her lips. She felt more wicked than she had felt in her life. 

"Just lovely," she said. She sipped her champagne too quickly, nervous. Luke replenished her glass. 

All conversation stopped at the sound of Debbie tapping the table in front of her with her crop, like a conductor bringing an orchestra to attention before a performance. She patted Pierre's hand and told him to sit back and enjoy. She got up, her breasts bulging from her tight top, her legs long and tanned. "Luke, I will need the bar on the floor." Luke went to the wall and moved a long stainless steel pipe out on to the stage in front of them. The pipe had several rings hanging from it, with leather straps attached to each ring. Natalie gulped. 

Debbie then dragged her crop down Luke's chest, to his stomach, where thin curling dark hair was evident just above the waist of his pants. Then further down with the end of the crop, along his cock which was evident under the soft fabric. "Natalie, tell me how hard Luke is."

"Yes Miss." Natalie pushed her dark red behind her ear and bent over to Luke, placing her hand over the bulge of his cock. She felt the long, thick, semi-hard member, stroking her hand along it. She swallowed. "It's getting hard, Miss."

"Hmmmm. Not good enough. I want it good and hard. Take his trousers off. Let's have a better look. If it's not hard, make it hard."

Luke slid his black loafers off. Natalie smiled at Luke nervously, and dragged her nails down his stomach. She undid his trousers and pushed them down over his hips. As the pants slipped over his crotch she saw he had on a pouch of thin nylon, stretchy, which barely contained his cock and balls. They were visible through the material. He stepped out of the pants and Natalie placed them on the leather chair around the table, stealing a quick guilty glance at Pierre, who nodded at her and smiled. She was trembling inside in the midst of this scene. All its possibilities. The young men. The bar on the floor with the straps. The rings on the wall. 

She placed her hand over Luke's cock, her nails dragging down it. She got on her knees and placed her mouth over its width through the fabric, dragging her teeth down to the head. She felt it hardening and thickening as she touched it. Soon there was no doubt it was completely hard, straining under the fabric. She got to her feet, smiling, flushed. "It's hard now, Miss."

Debbie moved the crop to Luke's cock and slid it along the hard shaft. "Very good, Natalie. Now Rolf." Rolf stepped forward, smiling, detaching himself from Lara, and stood before Natalie. The older woman placed her hand over his cock bulging under his dress pants. She felt what seemed like a longer, thicker shaft under his trousers. She gulped. "I think it's hard, Miss."

"Yes, Lara has been playing. Let's see it."

Unzipping his pants, Natalie gasped to see that he was wearing nothing underneath them. Rolf's cock strained against his pants as she dropped them, then sprung out, thick and hard, with a slight twist to the side. She had not seen a cock like that before. The head was thick and bulbous. She squirmed, imagining what it might feel like. He stepped out of his pants, completely naked, his cock hard and pointing out. She looked up at Debbie as she stood. "There, Miss." 

"Yes, lovely isn't it? And now tell me how wet Lara is." 

Natalie paused only for a second now. In her mind she had been preparing for this moment. Probably preparing for it longer than she realized. Ever since she had seen Lara and Debbie the other night; ever since Lara herself had slipped her fingers along her own pussy earlier in the evening before leaving the condo. She walked over to the smiling girl, whose nipples were standing out, erect, like Natalie's. Natalie stood in front of her and smiled wickedly as Lara parted her legs slightly in anticipation. Natalie bent her knees and kneeled in front of the blonde girl, pushing up the hem of her short dress. Facing her was Lara's perfectly shaved mound. As tanned as the rest of her. Her pretty little slit pointing up. And swollen lips. Natalie eased her face forward and blew on the younger woman's slit. She heard Lara groan. She could see the lips glistening between Lara's parted legs. She moved her fingers forward, hungry fingers, aching with curiosity, with want. Her fingertips slid down the crease of Lara's thigh toward her pussy, then between her legs. She then dragged her nails along Lara's swollen pussy lips, collecting her delicious cuntjuice under her nails. Lara shivered. Natalie got to her feet. 

"Quite wet, Miss."

"Very good, job, Natalie. Now lick your fingers clean."

Natalie looked at Pierre, hot and intense, and slowly licked her fingers lean, her tongue cleaning every inch of them.

"Be careful, Natalie, don't get too carried away," Debbie said. "Before too long you're not going to be so in control."

Natalie shivered, and felt a pulse of wetness flood her pussy. Debbie approached her, smacking her crop softly in her palm. Then she walked around her. She summoned the three others to stand next to Natalie. "Now everyone, I want you to have a good look at Natalie. She thinks she has potential to be a wanton girl, and I have seen her. I think she just might." Debbie struck Natalie's buttock with the crop, just a little sting, then slid it down her bare thigh. "Tell us what you would like to be, Natalie."

She blushed. She took a deep breath. "I want to be a slut, Miss."

Debbie smiled. "Like Lara?" Lara licked her lips and beamed. "Tell me what you think being a slut means?"

Natalie looked at Lara and smiled, as if she was sharing a secret with the sexy blonde girl. "I'm not exactly sure, but I want to let myself go. I want to know what it feels like to give in to all my urges. To be fucked. Yes that's it. To be fucked and to cum and to be told to fuck and be told to cum till I can't stand it any more. Till I collapse from cumming."

Debbie smiled broadly. "Yes, it sounds delightful doesn't it. But it means more than that. It means cum filling your mouth. Cum filling your cunt. Holding a man's cock between your breasts and his cum shooting up over your throat and chin. Cum dribbling down your thighs after one cock has fucked you, then another. Your ass stretched, feeling the cock slowly split you apart then empty into your ass. Wiping your face on another girl's soaking pussy, feeling her fuck your mouth. All that and more. How does that make you feel, Natalie."

Natalie could hardly breathe. Each sentence Debbie spoke caused the knot in her stomach to tighten, the fire in her cunt to burn hotter. 

Debbie nodded. "Boys, take off her skirt. Hold her while Lara makes her cum."

Natalie had just a brief moment of shock, then stood still. Her pussy was burning. Dripping down her legs, she knew it. Lara's eyes sparkled. She watched as Luke and Rolf smirked and moved toward her. Rolf's cock was still fully erect, the head shining. Their hands moved over her hips, holding her buttocks like she was a piece of meat. Rolf's hand grasped her inner thigh as he unzipped her skirt. She felt Luke's hands in front of her, touching her thighs, then tugging on the hem of her skirt. Rolf's fingers pushing the skirt down over her hips. She stepped out of the skirt, feeling the air move over her bare pussy and ass. As Rolf stood up, she could feel him close to her, his cock sliding up the back of her leg. She whimpered.