This evening, I am hosting a small gathering of intimates. Since my girl is visiting, we are at a hotel, as I've just moved and haven't settled in. In the suite, friends, a mix of women and men are talking, noshing, generally being the smart, entertaining nutballs they are. I put this group together with an eye toward the best comedy among my crowd, knowing that I would sit back and laugh all night. I have my computer up, and as they are used to me taking notes, it is of little consequence and not intrusive or rude.
I am imagining you here, to help us bring in the New Year. I know that the men friends will leave early, off to pursue more vigorous celebrations, leaving Mari, Ami, Amelia, Kat, and me. All these friends would know the particulars of my life and so you would be serving through the evening. As the men left, I would tell you to undress and put on your apron. Each of my women friends is enlightened and, while neither Mari, Ami, nor Kat is an FLR proponent, they are certainly appreciative of the male form, and they love me and always learn from the coloring outside the lines of my life. When not serving, you would be kneeling by my side. I would notice that Kat had a sore ankle, and direct you to her to rub her foot. She would be very loquacious at your strong hands and appreciative of your efforts. I would smile to see her pleased.
Mari is my dearest friend of lo, these many years. Ami is a few years our senior, and we've known one another since college. The two of them are straight and vanilla, also very strong and independent, brilliant and beautiful. Ami is Irish and one of the most hysterically funny women I know. A linguist, she regularly spices up a conversation with a brogue that switches into a country twang, and then I'm back at my cowgirl roots and we are off on another tangent. Through this, I would ask you to lay your hands on Mari's neck. I could see her hunching her shoulders and know that she has yet again worked at her computer until she can't un-hunch. your fingers would work out her knots.
For company, the CB6 would be off, and you would wear pink panties, which would highlight your erection at every contact. I would touch you discretely when you passed me, just keeping you excited. amelia would be some vexed, not quite knowing where to be or how, as the recent change in our relationship still has her struggling a bit for her new space. Not slave, not submissive, although still wanting both, nevertheless, she would look admiring at you and see the smile on my face and she would be pleased.
Near the midnight hour, I tell you to please go to the table and take off your apron and lie on your back. Perplexed, you comply, of course, not before noting the wicked grins on Kat, Amelia's and my face, and the blush on Mari's and Ami's.
Naked on the table (laid with a black cloth for the evening) you wait. amelia comes in and brings fruit and begins laying it on your belly. Kat brings chocolate sauce (these are women, there must therefore be chocolate, although I do not share that seemingly universal love), and decorates the fruit. Ami brings berries, adds them to your belly. The fruit is cool, the sensation bring gooseflesh. Each of us sits at the table and I pass champagne to each of them. I raise my glass and say, "To my beloved women, may 2009 bring you shalom -- the peace that derives from ha-o-lam, from wholeness. May you enjoy high adventure, low brow humor, and absolute health. And, right now, please enjoy your dessert off my fine platter. Je vous salute!"
They toast, drink, and begin sopping up the chocolate along your skin, teasing you mercilessly. amelia is boldest and dribbles chocolate on your manhood, then leans in to taste it with her tongue. (she has served as the dessert tray many a time and is delighted to be one of the diners rather than the tray). Kat is soon licking your nipples as Mari and Ami contain themselves to the fruit. I am standing at your head, watching my friends enjoy their dessert, mind steps ahead to the dessert that awaits me.
The women are full of champagne, fruit, and chocolate. you are sticky and stiff. The ladies take their leave, heading home to beat the craziness on the roads. I tell you to shower and come back to me. This is the 10th day since last I allowed your release. In that span of time, you have been teased by my friends, have serviced me with your tongue on several occasions, and I have played with your backside to near release every day. you are battling your brain, thinking surely tonight.....but, you have learned that even though I plan and you can sometimes guess outcomes, my quick devious Gemini brain loves to surprise. So, you try hard to not imagine when next....
Out of the shower, you come to me, and before you kneel, I slip the PA out of the tip of your manhood and tell you to get on the bed, on all fours. I bring the blindfold because I want you to focus on sensation, not visual stimuli. you hear me stepping into my strapon and you try to relax. I am glad to be tall, but wish I had a couple more inches of reach. you are required to wear your hair long enough for me to be able to grab it when I wish. I am not natively Sadistic, evil from time to time, yes, but pain is a thing about which I am circumspect. Forceful firmness, absolutely. I want to control you, simply, and for you to feel overpowered. I begin narrating as you feel me at your backside, lube, fingers, slowly opening you. "pet, feel My strength....try to get away....struggle..." you do not. I smack your butt and say, "STRUGGLE!" you try to get away, flattening, and immediately, I'm on top of you, have you in a camel clutch. I only hold you for a moment, not wanting truly to subdue you, simply to make certain you know that I could..."good boy, love, now come back up." you are breathing hard and now, I notice, fully turgid. I lightly rub your manhood and go back to my former place at your backside. "open for me, boy, take me inside you...." you feel My cock opening you and soon, you feel me against your prostate, teasing, driving you crazy. I can FEEL you warring with yourself, wanting to not achieve release this way, wanting a deeper connection. I bring you close several times and back off, you moan softly, sweating lightly. Finally, I slowly withdraw. "turn over, pet," I whisper as I take off the blindfold.
you comply and I lay the length of you, softly playing my hand across your chest. I love to play you, and spend a lot of time doing so. Tonight, though, away from the busy-ness of our lives, I want to mark the passing of the year, our first together. "may I serve you, Ma'am?" "no, john, just be still. Kiss me, pet." The kiss is the beginning of a conversation, the first step in the lovers' dance. I am taken with how well you've learned to listen, and that shows in your kiss. The call and response of my tongue to yours, I lick your lips, nibble them, pulling gently, then begin thrusting my tongue rhythmically in your mouth, slow, then steadily faster, deeper. As I do so, your pelvis begins to rock softly, and I feel myself engorge. I am hungry for you, pet. without breaking the kiss, I swing on top of you and take you inside of me, pushing down onto you. you reach up and we embrace hard, you half sitting up as I ride you. I am very careful to not ride too fast, although that takes a Herculean effort. I separate from you and put my hands on your shoulders and my breast in your mouth, cooing to you, "That's good, boy, harder, yes, good..."
I then lean and take your nipples, each in turn, in my mouth, teasing and sucking them. you groan and push against me, and I stop, again, trying to prolong the coupling. I look down at you, flushed, sweating, and find myself with tears in my eyes that wash down over you. I am still trying to wrap my brain around the reality of you. you catch the emotion and smile softly. I say, "john, thank you for your service, dear pet. Happy New Year." leaning in again to kiss you, this time, I tighten on you and ride hard, fast, and begin to shake as your manhood plunges again and again inside me, triggering my own release. you feel the spasms gripping you and I say, "Yes! Give Me your gift, boy, NOW!"
Kissing you, you scream into my mouth, shock wave after shock wave rocking your body.
Until finally, spent, heart racing, you relax.
I straighten out lying still mostly on top, feeling you slip out, sighing.
I wrap my hand around your manhood and we fall asleep, sated, in ways that neither of us could have imagined.
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