Caramel Dessert for Two

Dinner for Two

"I'll be in your city for a few days," my message read to you, "Just transiting through really, but I'll be at the Grand Hyatt Hotel. Why not join me for an evening? We can have dinner and... see where things go. A friend will be with me, who is also very excited to meet you." I was worried you'd decline. Nerves, fear, anxiety. I remember all those feelings when I was still fresh-faced and innocent. To both my surprise and joy, you accepted.

"What should i wear, Sir?" Of course, it had to be a sundress, for easy access. A yellow one, bright and happy. For a sharp contrast, black heels. Heels like ice picks. "i don't have anything like that". Fortunately, being a few weeks away, we managed to arrange a PO box and I ordered a carefully selected pair of exactly what I wanted for you, and we discussed exactly what I would have of you...

In the days running up to our arranged meeting, I admit I had nerves myself. Mostly that you wouldn't show up. I had such wicked plans for you after all, and getting through customs with all my... hmm... equipment... was more than a little nerve-wracking.

But you are my obedient little girl. As your taxi comes to a stop outside of the hotel, I open the door for you. Your eyes for a moment caught by the great gleaming tower looming over the city, and then lock onto mine. The primitive part of your brain recognizes the barbaric hunger swirling just beneath my pupils. I offer my hand to help you out. The gentlemanly gesture a disorienting contrast.

"Hello, baby." I smile.

"Hello, s- Tom." You hesitate for a moment. Careful, my little toy, we're out in public now. Our "polite" masks are on. We'll move through this world of banal niceties and empty compliments and false smiles and hypocritical mores. Polite greeting at the front desk, nod hello to the attendants by the elevator. The mask only slips when those polite, smiling, complimentary hypocrites notice how unsteadily you walk on those heels. Heels that can be classed as "porno" as you cling to my arm for balance. Scared, nervous nails cutting into my skin. They'll look. Eyebrows raised. Maybe guess. But we keep our masks on. Then, when I swipe the card to unlock the room, set out the "do not disturb" sign, and close the door behind us, those masks come off. We become the real us.

I guide you into the room. The door clicks locked behind you.

My teeth at your ear: "Kneel." The first time you ever felt that tiny pressure of air from my mouth against your skin.

"Yes sir." Almost relieved to shift your weight from your feet to your knees, you sink down, and look up to me with wide eyes. I collect a fistful of your hair as a convenient leash.

"Crawl." I lead you through the small entryway and into the surprisingly spacious room. Before the bed are two large, lavish leather armchairs facing each other. Seated in the chair facing the entryway is an athletically built blonde woman. Her musculature screams "Amazonian". Her hair is pulled back in an almost painfully tight bun.

Her make-up is laser precision. Her mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow are all dark and thick, giving her eyes a sharp angle. Something about it gives an impression of an eagle diving in flight. Flared against her pale skin, a blush of rouge and crimson lipstick.

Her outfit leaves little room for guessing: a rigid corset, black and nasty as oil, pressing out already ample breasts, black leather gloves to the elbow, garter belt, sheer pantyhose, platform heeled boots that look like they weighed a metric ton. Wrapped around her hips is a leather mini-skirt that just isn't quite long enough to cover her ass. Her eyes flash at you, and it's not just the eyeliner: her look is hawkish and hungry. You're a scared little rabbit in her eyes. "Why the fuck is she wearing more than me?" Her voice, tinged with a German accent, had a sharp bite to it.

"Relax, Nats, we had to come in from outside. It's quickly amended." Before you can summon a word of protest, I've poured you out of the dress, and left you kneeling on the floor. I plant my leather shoe on your shoulder, and press you down, back to all fours. Dress in one hand, your hair-leash in another, I lead you between the two chairs, facing Nats, and prop you back on your knees for a closer inspection. She leans forward in her chair, slender unlit cigarette hanging from her mouth. As she does so, she brings a waft of the most intoxicating scent to your nose. But your attention is snapped to her ice-cold blue eyes. They're running over you, scanning you. Inspecting even the tiniest pour, every millimetre.

"Tits, now." Her bark has sent many a freezing shiver down the spines of the bravest men. Few can resist. It's so jarring it even takes you a second to understand what she means. You unclip your bra, and present your fuck-udders to the naked air. I take your bra and collect it with the dress. She gives a sneer, "Mm, biteable." That sounded like a threat, not a compliment.

"Easy now," I chuckle, "She's green as grass."

"I am being nice." She is. Relatively speaking. She turns her attention back to you. It feels like being under a sniper's scope. She is certainly aiming at you. "What are you, a nun? Panties off too, little girl." There is the briefest of hesitations, but her glare brooks no argument. After all, what are you going to do? Run? With those fuck-me shoes on? You move to stand to take them off but she angrily clicks her tongue, "No. From the floor. That's where whores like you belong." You look to me for... what? Protection? Fuck you, I'm enjoying this show. I led you into the lioness' den and I'm going to watch her feast on your meat.

Finding no ally, you slip your thumbs under your panties and with shaking hands - and more than a little struggle getting them down past your knees - they eventually come off. I add them to my collection, giving a quick sniff before folding them with the rest. "Heels-" she begins.

"Stay on." I assert.

"You and your black heels. So basic."

"Classic." I correct, "I paid for them, so I am going to enjoy them." I turn towards the hotel's cupboards and call over my shoulder, "Maybe later I'll fuck her pussy with the heels."

"What?!" You cry out. Nats snaps her fingers right in front of your eyes and gives you a light slap.

"Speak when spoken to, slut. No-one cares about what ever silly-bitch ideas are going on in your head. Except for one: do you know your safeword?" Too shocked to speak, you nod quickly. "Good. Hands behind your head. Chest proud. Show those tits off to the world. Don't hide them or I'll slap them too. Chin up," she kicks out her leather boot, nudging your chin to the proper angle with their tip, "Eyes down." Shoots a gloved finger down and points to the floor, showing you where to fix your gaze. "Good." She launches herself up with surprising litheness, and stomps behind you. For a mad moment you're worried she'd kick you from there. There would be a helluva lot of momentum, between her muscles and those boots. You can feel the fire of her gaze burning up and down your back, inspecting every muscle, every twinge, every rise and fall of your breath. How is it possible to feel more naked when you're already naked?

While this inspection is going on, I bundle all your clothes into the room's safe, and lock it tightly. You're completely ours now, sweetheart, until we decide otherwise.

After inspection comes dinner. Little did you know, when I "invited" you to dinner, I omitted the little detail that you would be the table.

With her foot between your shoulders, she roughly shoves your forward, collapsing you to all fours again. "Get comfortable like that, whore." She growls over you. A growl so feral, so animalistic, it causes the hair on the nape of your neck to stand. Animalistic growl, animalistic response. From the room's fridge I pull out several trays of prepared food, and two sets of chopsticks.

"You're going to be perfectly still for us, my toy." I instruct as I start laying out food across your naked back. "Still and flat. Not an 'expert' now." Nats didn't get my reference, but you did, and you couldn't stifle a nervous giggle. "Experts" pull their tailbones up, offering a better angle for the pussy. Experts sinky their tits to the floor, arching their backs almost like ballerinas. When the cock squeezes in straight, churns right up against the vaginal wall.

"She spills my soy sauce and I swear to God, Tom, I will take that cute little cane of yours and-"

"She won't. She's new, but she's my obedient little bitch. Aren't you?" You nod, too nervous to speak. I wonder if you would be chattier if it was just me in the room, but God, do I like you cowering like this. Cold against your skin, I array out a selection of sushi and sashimi, as well as two palm-sized dishes with soy sauce.

The 'table' prepared, we pull our two chairs closer, and eat our dinner. You feel the tap of my chopsticks as I align them against your caramel ass. Nats brushes your hair to the side to keep it away from her food. Your head is inches from her groin, between her thick, muscled thighs. You can feel the heat coming from between her legs. Her energy. Her eagerness. You realize she is actually using an enormous amount of will to control herself right now.

"How is she with anal?" She speaks of you as if you're not even in the room.

"Off-limits. Nats, she's a complete virgin. Let's ease her pussy into things before we bring other holes into the equation."

You can hear her speak through an unsatisfied grimace, "Anal is more degrading. Especially-"

"Anal-orgasms." We two say in unison. A topic we've discussed more than once.

"How's her pussy?"

Between bites of sushi, I stick my hand between your legs, "Radiating heat." I slide a finger every so achingly slightly over your slick labia, "Wet." That teasingly slight sensation sends a shiver coursing through your nerves. A shiver that resonates throughout the table.

"My fucking sauce!" You can feel drips of the liquid splash on to your skin, "What did I say? What was the one thing I've said you must not do tonight, and you do it?"

"S-s-sorry mistress!" You stammer out.

"S-s-s-sorry? Not f-f-f-fucking yet you aren't!"

"I think we've eaten enough. Time to feed the dog." I suggest.

"Right. Yes. Let's feed it." A snarl in her voice.

Naked, on all fours. A dog bowl shoved under your face. Not even the dignity of your own meal. You get our leftovers. A mash-up of sushi and the last drams of soy sauce. We sit back in our seats, watching you eat. Laughing at you as you lower yourself down and nibble at the food. Scared little pup.

"Lowly bitch." I hiss, "You don't get dignity. Every time you look in the mirror in the future, remember this moment. Remember what you are." A slap my hand hard across your backside. Again. And again. Impatient to you use you now. I knead my hands into your ass-meat like dough, enjoying the resistance of the muscle there, the smoothness of the skin, the heat that kisses my thumbs as they roll up and massage torturously close to your dripping pussy. You give an agonized moan between bites. I lay down another series of stinging palms against your skin. The sharp crack of skin-on-skin echoes through the room.

Nats stands, lifts a boot and presses it into the back of your head, squishing your face into the food. "Eat, slut! Your owner spent good money for this meal. Eat and appreciate it!" Spank. Spank. Spank. Press. Press. Press. Eat bitch. Eat. We are hungry for your meat.

I am your owner, and just like I own my car, I care for it. I wash it, I polish it, I make sure the engine is frequently checked and fill it with only premium fuel. I take it, and you, for a joyride and derive great pleasure from the exact responses to my commands. On rare occasions, I may lend it, and you, to a trusted friend. Tonight, that friend and I are both taking you for a joyride. Buckle up.

As you swallow the last of the sushi from the dog bowl, Nats releases your head and with the same boot, impatiently kicks the bowel aside, sending it clattering across the floor. "You aren't done eating yet, kitten." With a flourish, she unzips the side of her leather mini-skirt, and tosses it aside, revealing her fully naked groin. Her bush is very neatly trimmed down to a small blonde patch, which stands starkly upon her muscled body. Even around her pelvis two veins branch out, squeezed against the skin, like a bodybuilder. "Dessert." She seizes the back of your head in her leathered hands, and drags you towards her as she sits back, your tongue obediently out on the approach.

"Relax the tongue." She instructs you as you start lapping, "Wide and relaxed. Much better than tight and stiff." You nod into her groin. I enjoy the show, watching your reddened, dripping ass waggle eagerly. I suspect you're trying to tell me something, but not yet, princess. We have a plan for you. "Tom, be a dear and find mmm-better-mmm-yes find where I put my cigarette." She keeps her hands braced behind your head, her thumbs gently circling in your hair, caressing the edges of your ears as you serve.

With great reluctance I tear myself from the juicy view and survey the room, rooting out her damn unlit cigarette near the fridge. I bring it to her. She releases her hands from your head and magics up a Zippo from her corset.

"No putting them out on this one, and no mouth-ashtrays." I warn.

"Yes, I remember." She speaks around her cigarette.

While she occasionally punctuates her puffing with an "mmm" or an "ooh yes", I kneel down beside you, and let my hands explore your undercarriage. I find your nipples as they swing with your rhythmic motions. Nats hitches a leg up on the armrest to give me more space to work in. "Milking your fuck-udders," I hiss into your ear as I tease and twist your nipples. You give off a little whinny as I do.

Nats has nearly finished her smoke when she suddenly snaps, "Lazy bitch, don't slow down!" You're about to give some excuse or apology or who-gives-a-fuck, when I stand up and straddle my legs over your torso, pincering you in place. With both hands I grip your head and plough your face roughly into Nat's hot cunt, slippery wet with your drool.

"Eat that pussy, you worthless whore!" I snarl, spitting out vicious anger all over you, "This is your only value! The only reason you exist! To serve! To give fucking pleasure to others! And you're fucking up?!" I'm rocking your whole body back and forth, back and forth. This isn't a gentle tongue-lapping any more. I am masturbating Nat's pussy with your whole face. Spit and pussy juice smear all over you as you squeal and cry under my assault. "One. Fucking. Value. One. Fucking. Purpose!" I keep ramming you into her. Nats is all about it with a mad grin on her face.

Not long and she's waving a hand at me, "Shit, stop stop stop. Fuck that's good. Stop." I wrench you upright onto your knees. Your make-up is a smeared mess. A spastic clown. I sneer a nasty laugh right in your face when I see it. Nats wipes the sweat from her brow, "I need a breather. Your turn." She gets up from the chair and walks over to the open window, stretching out her muscled lats as she did so, magicking up another slim cigarette.

Cradling your chin my hands, I pivot your face to mine. "My turn." My voice dripping with utter selfishness. In seconds, my trousers are around my ankles, and I'm force-feeding my cock down your throat, hands gripping your hair like a horse's reins. "Hands behind your back!" I growl in response to your hands desperately try to push against my thighs.

"Not a very well-trained bitch." Nats observes from the window.

"We-are-working-on-it... HANDS BEHIND BACK!" I snap, and you at last obey, holding one wrist in your other hand. "Eyes up on mine... where do your hands stay?" I pull my meat out of your mouth.

"Back." You cough out.

"Right." I push myself back in, but give you merciful half-thrusts, "Keep them there, or I will cuff them there." Nats watches us go for what was at least two cigarettes worth of time, but felt like an instant. I heard her clomping towards us from behind.

She rests her chin on my shoulder - her monster boots making her an inch taller than me - and says with a playful lilt, "I wanna turn."

"In a minute, I'm barely warming up."

"Well, at least take her virginity. I want to see that!" She collapses herself on the chair and folds her legs. I pull you off of my cock, a long sticky noodle of a saliva-pre-cum mix linking us. You cough and splutter, gasping for air. Oh, your make-up is beyond recognizable now. Black rivers cut down your cheeks. I lock your eyes for a long second, and give a questioning nod. Still coughing and gasping you give an answering nod.

I throw you to the floor, and plant my shoe between your shoulder blades. "Show me 'expert'." You slither down, nipples on the ground. How many times have you practiced this for me? How many times have I made you fuck the bed-leg and so many other demeaning things like this? Practiced perfection.

I kneel down behind you, hands kneading your delicious caramel ass again, taking a moment to enjoy the pure, stark beauty. The pussy quivering for even the slightest touch, dripping and gasping. The muscles around your asshole twitching at me. I give it a sly wink, "Maybe another day." I draw my thumbs to your pussy and massage the greedy little fuck-hole. I can feel the tension and anxiousness emanate from your body. A little louder, to you, I say "It's okay. I'll take care of you." I feel your nervous nod through your body, and then squeeze my cock into your tight, tight fucking tight pussy. Wet as a waterslide, but completely fresh. I couldn't help but chuckle: "Prepare to get colonized."

I struggle to press myself a little deeper in, and feel you give a little yelp. That'll do for now. Gently, slowly, I slide in and out. Reconquering every inch that I had just surrendered. I clamp my hands into the dips of your hips, and guide the gentle thrusting. A little deeper each time. A little faster. I hear your huffs and puffs under each stroke. Every cute little noise you make an invigoration.

It takes a while, but it's okay. I'm patient and we have all night. I slide my right hand along your back, slippery with sweat, and secure a grip on your shoulder down by the floor, using the leverage to speed up more. You moan. You groan. "Oh Sir... oh ffffuck..." Nats is watching from the armchair, barely half a dozen inches from you, a devilsh grin on her face, soaking in every detail.

As I find a good tempo you're responding to, your hands start to skitter across the wooden floor. I'm taking great pleasure in watching the rhythm of thrusts echo in the jolting of your hair. Your breathing becomes louder and louder, your moans too.

"What are you?" I grunt.

"Your whore. Your obedient whore." You whimper.

"More!" I give a sadistic thrust into your still-tight pussy.

"Your depraved whore. A toy to be used. A slut. A fucking toy... toy to be shared. Fucking worthless gutter whore-fuck-"

Nats walks out of your field of view - the jostling, jolting view as I thrust into you rhythmically. Her tank-like boot steps in front of your face, where she kneels down. I grip your hair in both hands, counter-balancing your weight to my thrusts. As your head comes up, you see my phone in her hands. An evil grin on her face as she speaks, "Smile for the camera, slut." Snap. Snap. Snap. "Stick your tongue out like a little anime whore! Goooood! Now let's get your sir a little video too..." She takes her time capturing your deflowering from all angles. The flinches in your face, the jiggle of your tits, the distortion of your tight pussy as my cock does its work.

"Oh f-oh fuck sir... fuck..." You pant as I start to speed my thrusts.

"Noisy bitch!" Nats snaps. She reaches behind the chair and produces a large gym bag. She dumps my phone in there and she pulls out a double-sided dildo gag. One side, not much longer than a thumb, the other? Monstrous. She holds it up for my approval. I nod, barely taking my eyes off your luscious, jiggling form.

Nats grips your hair and yanks you up - shit we should have put a leash on you at this rate - and for a moment playfully puts the monstrous end of the gag towards your mouth. Your eyes flare wide in fear, but her sadistic laugh gives her away. She spins the smaller dildo towards you, shoves it into your mouth, and straps it in place. She lets you go for a moment. My thrusts make it thump-thump-thump against the floor.

Nats lounges back in the chair, her mini-skirt still lost somewhere, and swings both legs wide open over the armrests, pointing at her pussy. "Service time, whore." I encourage you forward the last few inches, keeping my cock inside you the whole time. You plant your face between her legs, and push the dildo into her. As big as it is, she's soaked and more than a little experienced. "Oooh yes. That's good. Come on slut, I'm not some powder-puff. I can take it."

She's about to grip your hair, but you understand the assignment. With dips and nods of your whole head, down to your shoulders, you fuck her pussy with an inspiring passion. "Good girl." I grunt. Sweat is starting to dribble down my skin as my thrusts have reached full stokes and speed, helping push you deeper into her at the same time.

Around the latex dildo in your mouth, you give all kinds of gagged groans. I have no idea if you've cummed or not. I don't care. I'm here for my pleasure right now. I can finish you off later if needs be. I embrace the notion. Warm sack of meat. Object. Toy. I'm not having sex. I'm wanking myself off with a human-sized object. A fleshlight with legs. Sweat beads drop off from my chin, splattering on your ass and lower back. Fuck it's hot!

Nats is going wild, and secures her hands behind your head, thrusting and arching her hips into your face. Her corseted D's are heaving for oxygen as she rides your face. In the final thought that you're just as much of an object to her as to me, I have to cum. With an angry final thrust, I pull myself out of your pussy, and finish myself off with a few final strokes, shooting my hot cum over your back. Not going to lie, I'm aiming for your hair.

"Smell that tomorrow, bitch." I kick back and sit on the floor, gasping for air. Nats is still riding you, unintelligible gobbling coming from your mouth.

Not long after Nats goes into a final spasm around your head, giving her own curse-laden growls before throwing you back, "Oh Scheiße! Du wertlose Schlampe!". Your arms, exhausted from supporting your thrusting, give up and your front half crashes to the sweat-speckled floor. The three of us lie there in heaving piles for a few moments.

"Go on." Nats heaves. "Finish her off. I think she earned it." I nod in agreement. You gave it your all tonight. Time for a special treat. I draw myself back to your quivering, sweaty, cum-streaked ass.

Two fingers of my right hand slides into you, arcing downward. My left anchors itself to the right: base of the left thumb tight to heel of the right hand. My left index finger bent like it's around a trigger of a gun. As one, I start to pump my arms back and forth. My right hand fingers stroking directly on your g-spot, my left running over your labia, and tickling against your clit. Triple threat.

In the depths of exhaustion, you flail your arms weakly to no effect. You start giving groans around the latex cock. "I want to hear." I nod towards Nats. She peels herself from the chair, and removes the gag.

"Ooooh fuck thank you sir thank you thankyousir..." your words mumble into each other, interspersed by desperate whimpering, as I keep pumping, "Whore needs more morewhoreneedsmore..." It's not long, but fatigue hangs from my muscles. At some point you stop making any sense at all. A series of garbled nonsense noises. You still lie face-down, ass weakly waggling for me. "Zshhbutuhhh..."

Nats looks up to me, concerned, "Are you sure? She can't use her safeword."

"I'm sure." I smile, "We arranged what to do here, long ago..." I keep working, keep pumping. You are lost, floating in a sea of sensation where reality cannot begin to reach you. Neurons too over-tired, over-assaulted to even try to make sense anymore. Lost in that sea of pleasure, I keep you there. Pumping. Pumping. Pumping. Until I cannot even begin to move my arms anymore. How long? Who knows. I had lost myself to my joyous work on your gorgeous, delicious ass. But at some point, I met my mortal limit.

Released from my support from you, and you slump over to one side, semi-dried cum still clinging to your back. Your eyes are out of focus, dancing around with no point of focus on the ceiling. We lie like that for a while. Your leg spasming a few times, hips twitching, mouth gurgling. Eventually, I drag myself to the kitchenette, and wet some towels with warm water to clean you off. I carefully wipe away the spit, the cum, the sweat, the ruined make-up. Until you're my princess again. You are still dazed when I finish. I collect you in my arms and carry you into the arm chair, sitting with you in my lap. I feel the slightest movements as your body tweaks and spasms from the aftershocks, face still strawberry pink. I watch as your gentle breathing shifts the strands of hair caught across your mouth. Eyes closed, you look like you're asleep, but I know you're not. You are just truly, utterly spent.

Nats and I fall to speaking, old friends catching up, joking about old times, old friends, old memories. While you swim, utterly lost in the vast, deep ocean of the cum-drunk, in my arms. The warmth of my skin lulling you deeper and deeper down... down... down. To you, our voices are distant, indistinct warbles, but at the edge of consciousness you feel the vibrations and rhythms of my chest as I speak. Your anchor to the world. We stay like that, until the dawn's light dances on the eastern horizon. She leaves soon after, leaving you and me alone. Perhaps we will find the energy for round two soon. I'm here for a few days and brought oh, so many toys with me. Hmmm... always wanted to have sex against a big window, tits pressed against the glass for the world to see if they could but look so high up...