by Dawn Steele
A young man dressed in only a loincloth appeared at the doorway. His bare skin was bronzed and the bulge in his white loincloth very pronounced.
“Good evening,” he said, “I am your waiter for the – ”
He stopped short when he saw his dinner guests.
Kate raised her eyes to the waiter’s face and her gut shriveled within her abdomen.
9
“Kate?” The waiter said. “What are you doing here . . . ?”
Then he saw Rust and he said, “Oh.”
Everyone in the room clearly recognized one another. Kate held the glowering face of Carlo Estez, whose body was mostly nude. She almost forgot that her nipple was completely exposed.
But then, Carlo had already seen her almost naked. Carlo had touched those very breasts and nipples on display now.
Rust made no attempt to shield her breast from Carlo’s questing eyes. He said, without inflection in his voice, “Perhaps you’d care to give us the menus for tonight.”
Kate held her breath. Her eyes darted from Rust to Carlo. So Rust was going to play it cool, although he clearly knew what Carlo was doing here. Was this the waiter’s job Carlo had hinted at to her? The place he dearly loved to take her to?
What was this place anyway? What did it entail . . . being here?
She could see the Adam’s apple on Carlo’s throat moving.
“Yes, of course,” Carlo finally said. So he was going to play it cool as well. “I have brought the menus, sir.”
Indeed, he held a couple of large menus in his hand. He walked in and handed one to Rust and herself.
“Sir,” he said deferentially, “Miss.”
He stood there, his beautiful bronzed body at attention. She had seen him naked before, of course. But she still felt discomfited at his state of undress and at her own. She made to pull back the material of her dress to cover her exposed teat, but Rust stopped her.
“Don’t,” he cautioned. “You’re beautiful this way. You don’t ever have to be ashamed of your body. Our waiter isn’t ashamed of his. Are you now?”
He directed this at Carlo.
After a beat, Carlo said, “No. Can I help you with the menu selections, sir?”
Kate stared at the menu in front of her, but did not dare say anything.
“I’ll order for the both of us,” Rust said. “We’re famished. Aren’t you, my beloved?”
He tweaked her nipple again and pulled at a tendril of her hair. All his gestures were tender, loving.
“Yes,” she said.
A large part of her was excited to be on display like this, and yet another part of her – albeit a smaller part – was shocked at her own boldness, her wantonness.
Rust perused the menu as Carlo waited.
“Let’s see . . . do you have any recommendations, waiter?”
“I would recommend the Japanese set tonight, sir. It would suit your particular . . . tastes.”
“Very well. And bring some sake along, that’s a good man.”
“Yes, sir.” Carlo paused. “Will that be all you are ordering, sir?” He seemed nervous for some reason.
Rust eyed him steadfastly and said, “Yes. That will be all I need.”
Carlo left. Kate squirmed in her seat. Rust fingered her nipple again.
“You’re beautiful, Kate,” he said. “I want you to show the rest of yourself to me.”
She laughed lightly. “You mean here?”
“Yes. This is a private restaurant, and we are mostly shifters here. We have no inhibitions.”
“You want me to take off all my clothes?” And the dress was so beautiful too.
“Yes.” He touched her earrings. “Keep only these on.”
“What if Carlo comes back?”
“Are we negotiating, Kate?” A harshness crept into his tone.
She was flustered. “No.”
“Then take off your clothes.” His eyes were steely, commanding.
She got up. The dress itself was easy enough to remove, and he helped her undo the halter behind her neck and let the whole shimmering ensemble fall down to her shoes. Then she stepped out of her heels and she was as he desired her – completely naked and wearing only his mother’s diamond earrings.
There had to be psychological ramifications to that.
He got up. She was a little unbalanced, because she wasn’t sure if he wanted to take her on the table, just like that.
“Lie down, Kate,” he said.
Yes, he did want to take her. She could see it in his eyes.
Did he want Carlo to walk in and see them fucking? That was it, wasn’t it? He wanted to play games with Carlo’s mind too – to twist the dagger and bury it to the hilt.
“Rust,” she said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He started to take off his jacket, and then his shirt.
“Look,” he said, “I’m doing it too, so you’re not alone.”
“That thing with Carlo – ”
“Who’s Carlo?” he said innocently.
She frowned. Was he kidding her? But then, he had a reputation for not knowing his students’ names. He knew hers, but did he know anyone else’s?
“Don’t think about anyone but me,” he said. “Exclusivity. This is what it’s all about. The waiter . . . the one you call Carlo . . . he was asking me if I wanted to order his side services which are also on a menu of a different sort . . . but I declined.”
“Services?” She envisioned the way Carlo was dressed, or undressed, depending on how you viewed it.
“Yes.” He slipped off his pants. He was naked underneath, and his cock was erect. It was incredible how quickly he got hard again so soon after they had made love for the second time that night. “Services. But we won’t be needing them because of the exclusivity clause.”
He helped her onto the table. She lay upon it on her back, feeling very vulnerable. Her buttocks were on the edge of the table and her legs wavered in the air.
“Spread your legs for me, Kate.”
She parted her legs. He held them both apart in his hands. The desire was stark in his eyes as he gazed down at her pussy. His cock was a ramrod piece of flesh between his legs.
The curtain parted again and Carlo reappeared, carrying a tray. He did a double take when he saw them both naked and already prepped for what they were about to do.
Rust looked up.
“Are you ready to serve?” he asked Carlo.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then come in.”
Kate didn’t move. But her eyes followed Carlo as he made his way into the tiny room with the tray. Carlo’s eyes burned as he took in every inch of her body.
You are beautiful, his eyes said, and you don’t deserve what he’s doing to you.
The tray was filled with small, multicolored pieces of raw fish. What was the Japanese name for them again? Yes, sashimi. She had only ever tasted it once, back in high school. The fish slices were arranged artfully. Orange in one quadrant of the plate. Red in another. White in the third and yellow in the fourth. All quadrants were neatly partitioned by green mint and maroon strings of ginger.
“Splendid,” Rust said.
Carlo stood next to him. In his hand – the one which wasn’t carrying the black lacquer tray – was a pair of chopsticks. He looked down in dismay at Rust’s impressive erection.
“Shall I serve, sir?” he said sullenly.
“Yes, but only with the chopsticks, and don’t touch her with any part of yourself.”
The warning and challenge were clear.
“I will try, sir,” Carlo said with an edge to his voice.
Rust turned to Kate.
“Lie very still,” he instructed.
He moved backwards, allowing Kate’s legs to drop and then dangle off the table. She had to claw at the table to retain her balance.
“Spread your legs wider, Kate,” Rust ordered. “Put your feet on the edge of the table.”
Her natural instinct was to close her
legs in the presence of Carlo. He was a stranger, and yet not a stranger. But he seemed entirely too eager, too curious to look at her splayed pussy and her gaping holes. But she must not disobey Rust. Wasn’t this the nature of their relationship? The dominant and the dominated. The powerful and the obedient.
So he wanted her to experience a new threshold of pleasure – to be derived by showing her body to another man who was covetous of her. Wasn’t there a word in psychology they learned for it? Exhibitionism. She had her first taste of it when she was asked to display her wares in The Alpha Men’s Club.
And now she was being asked to exhibit herself again. To a boy who openly desired her, no less.
She did as she was told. She was surprisingly limber, and so she placed both her feet on the edge of the table. It was quite uncomfortable and she was very stretched at her hip joints. But her body was still young and supple, and she could maintain the position. Her thighs were open at a slightly lower than one hundred-and-eighty arc now, and her pussy and asshole were lushly displayed. Their shadows danced in the flickering candlelight – two men and a woman lying down.
Carlo came closer.
Look at me. Desire me.
She could tell he was extremely discomfited in the presence of her lover and his Professor. The bulge at his loincloth was even more pronounced now as he took in her engorged pussy leaves and hole, which had just started creaming again. She knew how much he wanted to tear his loincloth off his hard, constrained cock and plunge it into her hole. How badly he wanted to fuck her in all her orifices.
But her lover was watching and he had forbidden Carlo to touch her.
Carlo shakily picked up a salmon sashimi with his chopstick. He was an expert in using them. Without letting any part of his skin touch hers, he laid the orange sliver – sliced off a salmon’s belly – onto her left nipple. Then he did the same to her right.
The fish slivers were cold against the protuberant tips of her nipples. She almost did not dare to breathe for fear of the sashimi sliding off.
Rust’s nostrils flared.
“Wait,” he said to Carlo.
Carlo moved aside as Rust came up again to the edge of the table where her pussy gaped. Rust’s hands stroked her open thighs. He leaned over to seal his mouth over her right nipple, where the salmon piece draped. Her nipple tingled as his teeth grazed upon her sensitive, puckered flesh.
He ate the sashimi slice, swallowing it in one gulp. Then he did the same to the one on her other nipple.
“Would you like more servings, sir?” Carlo said. Once again, she could detect the razor edge in his voice, as though he was working and clenching his jaw.
“Yes.”
From the side of the table, Carlo placed two slices of red mackerel on her nipples. Rust ate them off her again. The contrast of cold fish against his warm, wet mouth upon her flesh was stark. His tongue licked the tip of her nipple lovingly as he lifted the sashimi off her skin.
They did this again and again – serving after serving. She was a veritable feast. Each time, Rust applied more pressure on her nipples as he ate the fish off her. Sucking her teats. Licking her areolas. Wetting them until her darker flesh was glistening and shining in the candlelight.
Her stomach was a mess of gurgling juices. She was hungry too, but her pussy was flowering and creaming with her need. Her vaginal juices were spilling over the edge of her tunnel again, staining the undersides of her buttocks and the table.
Oh, what an embarrassment!
Then Rust said, “Downwards.”
Carlo placed the next slice on her belly, just below her sternum. Rust ate that, licking her skin as he did so and leaving a patch of wetness there. The next slice was placed on a spot below the first one, and then below. Rust followed the trail. When he reached her navel, his tongue dipped into it and circuited it with a languorous swirl.
Each time his tongue danced upon her skin, a fevered spool of pleasure uncurled in her groin. The fish was placed lower and lower until Carlo had reached her mons. Rust ate this. Before Carlo could pick up the next slice with his chopsticks, Rust took it in a pincer grip.
“Allow me,” he said.
He opened up the petals of her pussy with his thumb and third finger. Then, holding them apart, he wedged the sliver of raw fish in between her labia and clit. He did the same to the fold on the other side. Carlo was a desperate observer. His cock tented his loincloth, and he was so hard it was like a flag.
Rust took more slices and pushed them into the molten hole of her pussy – pushed them deep in. The cold fish was clammy and yet erotic. The walls of her vagina were pushed back, and further pushed back until she was stretched. She gasped as he continued to fill her.
He kept stuffing in more slices until the tray was empty save the mint and ginger. Her vagina was now engorged with sashimi, which kept pressing down on the ultra-sensitive spot below her cervix so that continuous streams of pleasure kept coursing through her entire groin.
Rust said to Carlo, “We’re going to need more fish. Go get us another plate, will you . . . waiter?”
Carlo glowered and left.
As soon as the curtain fell, Rust bent his glorious head down onto her pussy and gently nicked the slivers of fish between her labia with his teeth. The fish eased out of her hot, enclosed flesh, and the sudden vacuum it left sent her nerve fibers firing on all cylinders.
“Ohhhh,” she groaned.
Her clit was a livewire, begging to be caressed, to be touched.
He did not leave her wanting. He closed his teeth very gently around her heated, bulging hood and bit down upon it.
She combusted then and there.
Her orgasm seized her and sent violent tremors throughout her body. He did not relent but pressed down on her clit with his tongue, stubbing it and moving the tender morsel of flesh from side to side. Her orgasm was long and drawn-out. Her mind was filled with explosions and little starbursts of pleasure, each more prolonged than the previous one.
When the starbursts started to abate, he sealed his lips over the overflowing tunnel of her pussy. He withdrew the first sodden sliver of fish with his teeth and ate it. She writhed with pleasure. He dipped his tongue into her hole to tease out the second, and he ate that as well.
The others were buried deep into her pussy, and he applied suction pressure to funnel them out. The tendrils of need continued to ebb deep within her. He poked his finger into the deepest recesses of her pussy to inch the final sliver out.
When Carlo finally came back, her vaginal canal was empty but still throbbing with the unparalleled sensations.
“I’ve brought you more sashimi, sir,” Carlo said.
His eyes were on her and his erection had abated some from his sojourn into the kitchen. Kate wondered if some sous chef in there had eased his load a bit.
“Thank you, waiter,” Rust said, straightening himself. “It’s now the lady’s turn to feed. Are you hungry, my darling?”
The endearment warmed Kate’s ears and heart. Rust helped her sit up. Her whole body was still aching from the orgasm she just had.
Rust stroked his cock.
“This needs relief,” he said, “though not in the way you’d think.”
He sat down and held out a hand to Kate.
“Come sit on my lap,” he said.
She knew what he wanted and went to him gladly. She was no longer perturbed by Carlo’s watchful gaze. Rust turned her body around so that her back was facing him.
But which hole did he prefer?
He grabbed her hips.
“Slide me in,” he said in a husky voice.
He was asking her to make a choice. She let the head of his cock nestle against her pussy opening. She paused for Rust’s acknowledgement and blessing. He did not twitch, and so she assumed he approved.
Carlo was watching her every move with wariness. There was judgment in his eyes.
You are his slut. You let him be his slut. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?
; And yet, she could read the obvious desire on his face.
I want you.
Simultaneous judgment and desire.
Oh, what a tangled web we weave.
She bore her body down onto Rust’s dick while locking eyes with Carlo. It was psychologically sick, sick, sick – what Rust and she were doing to Carlo. But some part of her reveled in what they were doing. Some part of her expanded with the largesse of being desired – she who had so seldom been desired. Her mind rang with elation.
You want me but you can’t have me, she mentally said in triumph to Carlo.
She was so very wet that Rust slid in with ease.
“Don’t move,” he instructed her. Then to Carlo: “Bring the tray here.”
She sat there on Rust’s splayed thighs, joined to him in the way a woman can be joined to a man as Carlo brought the tray of fresh sashimi to Rust. Carlo was so close that his thigh could almost brush hers. He was certainly close enough to glimpse her pussy with Rust’s cock buried deep inside – so deep that she could feel his tip nestling against the mouth of her cervix. Close enough to see her juices trickle onto Rust’s balls.
Close enough for it to sting.
Rust took the pair of chopsticks beside the food on the tray, and scissored an orange slice of white-veined salmon belly with it. He was just as adept as Carlo with chopsticks. She turned her head halfway, her long hair brushing against his clavicles. He carefully brought it to her lips and she ate it, tasting the cool, smooth textured silkiness of it on her tongue.
“Do you like it?” Rust murmured.
“Yes.”
He fed her some more. And more and more and more. She wriggled on his cock as she ate, aware that Carlo was watching Rust steady her by groping her left breast.
She was amazingly hungry, and so she finished the whole tray this way, with Rust feeding her and Carlo being a human mannequin.
At the end of it, Carlo’s cock was a flagpole once again.
“Fuck me,” Rust said.
To Carlo: “Bring us some sake, will you, waiter? I ordered it ages ago.”
She began to move up and down against Rust, her buttocks squishing the lower part of his planed abdomen. It was difficult because she did not have the leverage, but he gripped her belly and hips and guided her all the way.