Inside it quickly became apparent that the ladies of Rich Bitch were about one thing: sex. Impeccably stunning female dancers swung from golden trapezes, their tricks revealing no panties under their lavish costumes, while men for every taste and predilection walked the floor offering massages and oral sex to the designer-clad assembled women as they sipped Dom Perignon. Small curtained rooms to the sides offered some degree of privacy to the women as they got their pussies licked by a man (or men!) of their choice, reclining on velvet chaise-longues with their dresses pulled up to their waists.
I stood wide-eyed at the spectacle but was quickly found by Marilyn who came over to introduce herself. She motioned to an ornate fountain and said that if I wanted to stay I was to throw my panties in there so that I could enjoy any of the men and women on offer whenever I wanted. It was all too bizarre but I was so turned on by the goings-on that I slipped out of my thong and threw it to join the other scraps of Agent Provocateur and La Perla’s finest floating in the foam, to the applause of the other women.
My short summer dress flipped at my thighs as Marilyn showed me around the house, and even though the dancers’ legs were akimbo in an aerial display of pussy, I was still self-conscious as I followed her up a long staircase.
She showed me private rooms, each with its own theme. A fetish room with a love swing and bondage cross, a Lomi Lomi therapy room with a massage couch scattered with flowers, a red light room with a mirrored ceiling and a dance pole, a room with a vast Jacuzzi and sauna, a room covered in plastic sheeting with shelves and shelves of bottles of oil and different coloured lube … Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined such a place existed.
That first night, after surrendering my panties and my car keys, I got into the swing of things. A man in his thirties, dressed in a tux but with the body of an MMA fighter, walked over and asked if there was any way he could service me. I faltered a little at first, not really accustomed to this kind of forthrightness, and asked him for a foot massage. He led me into one of the small curtained rooms and delicately removed my shoes, caressing my feet one by one, applying just the right pressure to the balls of my feet. He began to kiss my feet, and looked up at me.
‘Would Madame like anything else?’ he asked.
I opened my legs a fraction, aware of how wanton my pussy must look with a dress but no panties. He kissed his way up my legs, his shaved head gently grazing my thighs, and softly parted my lips with his tongue, and I was in heaven. He licked so expertly, I came in minutes, thrashing against his face.
Hands starting to gently touch my breasts brought me out of my reverie and back into the massage room. Many months and countless steamy encounters had passed since my first tentative foray into the world of Rich Bitch. Two masseurs were now stroking my breasts while the other two continued to work on my feet. The sensations in my nipples made their way down to my pussy, the only part of my body they hadn’t yet lavished with attention. The light fingers on my oiled nipples had me lightheaded when one of them whispered that I should turn over. I groaned with pleasurable frustration and did as they asked.
Without breaking their stroke, the masseurs’ hands roamed the backs of my legs and grasped my bum. Warm oil was trickling down my spine and coming to rest between my legs, mingling with my juices as my pussy readied itself for the first touch.
The hands were dizzying, dipping just slightly further inside my thighs with every stroke, and slowing down to an excruciatingly slow pace. Finally, I felt a finger graze my hairless pussy lips and I moaned into the pillows. Another one separated them just a touch and lightly touched the tip of my clit, then another pressed just inside me. I widened my legs and lifted slightly up onto my knees, and their hands were all over my pussy, coming at me from above and below. More oil drizzled and a finger touched my arsehole, making me jump, before relaxing on to it as it slid inside. Another one went into my pussy while a third lightly but relentlessly stroked my clit. I came hard, face pressed into the pillows, and their hands supporting me as I collapsed back down. Light strokes continued over my legs and back until I signalled that was enough.
The men left and my maid, a Thai girl wearing just a little skirt and jewellery, came into the room and showered me in the wet room, rubbing right up against me as she scrubbed the oil off my skin, and making sure I got a good look at her pussy when she bent over to pick up handfuls of salt scrub.
I dressed in a simple black dress, no panties of course, and my maid repaired my hair and make-up. When I left the Lomi Lomi room, men came up to me constantly, offering their services, and I said ‘maybe later’ to all of them. I wanted to explore a little.
In the main hall members in cocktail dresses were dancing with the attending men while sushi was served on a naked girl lying motionless on a table in the centre of the room, and a waitress served Champagne wearing just a tiny white apron and black high heels. A couple of exceptionally submissive men were sitting on the floor with their tongues out, offering oral sex to anyone who cared to come over and shove their pussy in their faces, which most of the women – even the Champagne waitress! – took advantage of at some point in the evening.
I decided to take a peek in the dark room, somewhere I hadn’t yet explored, but where entrance meant consent. I knocked on the door as the sign requested and a voice on the other side asked whether I consented to join in and be taken in whatever way the other inhabitants of the room saw fit. I’d enjoyed having hundreds of men and the occasional woman at my beck and call for the last few months, licking, massaging, fingering me any way I wanted, doing anything I asked, but I was ready to relinquish a bit of control.
‘I do,’ I said.
The door swung open and it was dark inside, with just a tiny black light in one corner lighting up an eerie purple area where three or four people rolled all over each other on a huge couch. The door was hardly shut when the first hands grabbed at me, handling my breasts roughly, something I hadn’t felt in ages after the respectful touches of the masseurs and the submissive men downstairs. My body responded to the display of masculine power and I leaned backwards into a pair of strong arms which folded across me, holding my breasts tight and rubbing my nipples. Another pair of hands pulled my skirt up roughly and grabbed my pussy as though sizing me up. They were tearing at my dress, pulling it in all directions until it was ripped and just hanging around my waist. A face buried into my pussy, sucking so much more roughly than I was used to and I squirmed, trying to lessen the intensity, but the man behind me held me tight, biting on my neck, pulling my head back by my hair and kissing me roughly.
My feet were lifted off the floor and I was suspended between the two men, dizzy with sensation and disorientation from the darkness. They pulled me around harshly, turning me over and opening my legs wide.
A cold dollop of lube made me gasp and the men yanked me into a kneel on the floor. One man pushed me from behind, making my legs sprawl wide on the floor, and got hold of handfuls of flesh on my hips, guiding me down onto his cock. It was dark and I wriggled to angle it so it went in my pussy, but he had other ideas and pushed straight into my arse. I screamed with shock and pleasure and he pulsed inside me, biting my shoulders. A mouth was suddenly on mine, hands on my tits, and the other man was in front of me. The darkness was warm but claustrophobic and I felt smothered between these two strong bodies and gasped for breath over his shoulder. He pushed me back and forced his body up against mine, pushing his cock inside my pussy. I’d never felt anything like it, jammed between two men, two cocks inside me, the three of us moving together, our sweat mingling. Their thrusts and bites tipped me over the edge and I came over and over again.
I was disengaging myself from the sweaty tangle when a weird electronic noise invaded my thoughts. I opened my eyes into a dark room, but a different one. The men were gone, at least I think they were, and I was covered with a duvet. I was confused for a moment, and then reality seeped in. My mobile phone flashed and buzzed on the table, trying to dance its way off the lib
rary book it was resting against as it did its best to wake me from my lusty slumber. The boiler above my bedroom wheezed as my housemate took a shower and I could hear the neighbours shouting at each other as they tried to jumpstart their VW Polo again. Ah well, I thought it was all a bit too good to be true, but maybe I could pick up where I left off tonight.…
Confession
by Kristina Wright
Please excuse my bluntness, but I need to confess something: I hooked up with my boyfriend’s father last Friday. My boyfriend’s father.
There. I admitted it.
I’m blushing, just thinking about it. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m horny, that’s what it is. I’ve been celibate for two months because my boyfriend Richard has been working for his company’s office in Amsterdam while I’m in Seattle. It’s a six-month assignment and I thought I could handle it, but I’m lonely. And horny. It’s not much of an excuse, but there it is. I let myself do something I would never, ever do under normal circumstances. The worst part is, I think I would do it again. I know I would, actually. If he would let me.
I don’t know why I feel like I need to defend myself. I didn’t initiate what happened, so I could say it wasn’t my fault. Except, I feel bad because I don’t feel bad. I enjoyed it, I had fun and, heaven help me, I’d do it again. Does that make me a slut? Does it make me a slut that I didn’t actually have sex with him, I just gave him a blowjob? Does it make me a slut that I have never felt so submissive in my life as when he told me to suck him? Does it make me a slut that I enjoyed giving him a blowjob and was practically glowing when he told me I was a good girl and it was the best blowjob he’d ever gotten in his life?
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
So be it, I’m a slut. I’m also a photographer, a pretty damn good one, which is how it all got started in the first place. Richard’s dad called me a week ago about doing some portraits of him and his wife for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. They didn’t have professional portraits done when they got married, so he wanted to surprise her with a studio session. I don’t remember everything that was said, but somehow we ended the conversation with him planning to come over and look at my portrait portfolio on Friday afternoon. The thought of him being in my apartment made me a little nervous, but it had nothing to do with sex. He has, I don’t know how else to say it, a dominant personality. He talks, people listen. Me included. There’s something about the way he looks at me when he talks… I don’t know. I never saw myself as the submissive type, but I find myself wanting to please him in a way I’ve never wanted to please Richard.
I never really considered it before, but Richard’s dad (his name is George, but for some reason I can’t think of him as anything but ‘Richard’s dad’) is very attractive and in shape for a guy in his fifties, with this sexy streak of white in his wavy black hair. Richard looks a lot like his dad, actually, so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I’d be attracted to the guy.
He came over right on time for our appointment and I offered him a glass of wine. I always have a couple of glasses of wine when I get home from work, sometimes a little more on the weekend. In any case, by the time he’d finished looking at my portraits and had moved on to my more artsy stuff, we’d killed nearly two bottles of wine. Maybe that’s why I didn’t even hesitate when he picked up my portfolio of nudes, most of them self-portraits.
I didn’t blush when he flipped to an eight-by-ten photo of me stretched naked across a hardwood floor. He studied it intensely and then looked at me. I don’t know what I expected, a compliment or a thoughtful critique of the lighting, but not, ‘This is my kitchen floor.’
Fuck. I’d forgotten I’d borrowed Richard’s parents’ house one day last summer while they were in the Virgin Islands. I had wanted to use the fabulous natural light at their house for some self-portraits and Richard had been a more than helpful assistant. It suddenly all came back to me: setting up my equipment, stripping down, setting the timer as I changed positions while Richard watched from the kitchen table. When the light faded, we ended up rolling around on that hardwood floor, fucking like sex-starved teenagers. I couldn’t tell his father all of that, of course, so I just nodded.
‘Richard told me you were a very … mmm … sexual woman.’
I didn’t know how I felt about Richard discussing our sex life with his father, but the way he looked at me nearly melted my panties. I squirmed in my chair, unable to meet his gaze. Of course, with my eyes down I couldn’t help but notice the huge erection he had. I gasped involuntarily, feeling like I had done something wrong even though he was the one sitting there with the enormous boner.
‘It’s your fault,’ he said gruffly, putting aside my portfolio. ‘Don’t you think you should do something about it?’
I looked at him. I knew I should tell him to fuck off, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Something about his voice and the way he was looking at me made it impossible to do anything but nod.
The next thing I knew, his pants were undone and I was discovering that the phrase ‘like father like son’ applies to dicks as well as personalities. Richard’s dad has the nicest, thickest cock I’ve seen in a long, long time. It might even be a little bigger than Richard’s, though I find it hard to contemplate the two of them without wanting to fuck them both at the same time. I know that will never, ever happen, but a girl can dream, right?
He stroked his cock while I watched, sitting there at my kitchen table like it was the most normal thing in the world. I kept thinking about Richard and how this was his father and that I should be screaming at him to leave and calling my sweet, loving boyfriend … but I didn’t say any of that. Without being told, I slipped to my knees in front of him.
His hand stilled on his cock, a pearly bead of pre-cum poised on the broad tip. Time seemed to stop while he stared into my eyes. I wanted to lean over and suck him, get it over with, but I was waiting for something. Permission, I guess. Or maybe an order.
‘Do you want to suck me?’ He stared at my mouth. ‘Tell me.’
I nodded again. I seemed unable to speak. My mouth was dry and I licked my lips. It wasn’t meant to be sexual, but he stroked his cock almost involuntarily.
‘Then suck me, show me what you want.’
I whimpered low in my throat as I scooted between his knees. With a deep, steadying breath, I lowered my head and took him between my lips. I could only take the head in my mouth because he still held his cock, his fingers circling it below the broad tip, pointing it at my open mouth. His pre-cum tasted sweet and dissolved on my tongue before I’d had enough. I tried to slide my lips down, take more of him in my mouth, but his fingers restricted me. I whimpered again.
‘Just the head,’ he said. ‘That’s all you get. Suck the head.’
I swirled my tongue around the tip before sucking him like he wanted. Just the head, my lips butting up against his fingers, trying to force him to move back and give me more. He wouldn’t move.
‘You want it?’ he asked, his voice deep. Sounding so much like Richard’s voice, but rougher. ‘You want more of that cock?’
I moaned around the head of his dick in my mouth. I sucked harder, licking the tip frantically. I did everything to let him know what I wanted so I wouldn’t have to actually tell him.
He wrapped my ponytail around his hand and pulled my head back. His cock made an audible pop as it slid out of my mouth. ‘Tell me,’ he demanded.
My lips were wet with saliva and pre-cum. I licked them, tasting him. So sweet. So nasty. I felt as if I was looking at this scene from outside my own body and I was both horrified and aroused.
‘Let me suck you.’ I sounded breathless and needy.
‘Why?’ he asked, with a tug of my hair.
I gasped. ‘I need to. Please.’
‘Need to do what?’
This was driving me crazy, which is exactly what he intended. He wanted me so hot and needy that I would beg, beg to please him, beg to satisfy him, beg to suck him. I was soaked through m
y jeans and panties, as hot and needy as I’d ever been in my life, and all I could think about was the taste and feel of him in my mouth. I looked up into his eyes and I begged.
‘I need to suck your dick. Please let me suck it.’
I was rewarded with a groan and his hand tugging me toward his crotch. ‘Suck it,’ he said. ‘Suck it good, sweetheart.’
I fell on his cock like a starving woman, my hands braced on his muscular thighs. I swirled my tongue around the head before taking more of him in my mouth. His breathing quickened and he fisted his hands in my hair, pulling it up hard from the nape of neck in just the way I liked. He let me control the depth, but he controlled the pace, moving me up and down on his cock, fucking my mouth.
‘Take it deeper,’ he whispered. ‘I know you want it. Do it.’
He was right, I wanted it. I obeyed, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could, until I was almost deep-throating him. I pulled back only when I started to gag a little, which seemed to turn him on even more.
‘Good girl, take it all. Do it.’
His praise aroused me as much as his thick cock between my lips. Slowly, so slowly, I could feel every ridge and vein as I took him down my throat. I knew he was watching me, watching me suck him like the slut I had become. I kept hearing a little voice in my head saying this was Richard’s father and telling me what a horrible person I was for betraying my boyfriend like this. Instead of deterring me, it only made me suck him faster, take him deeper. At that moment in time, the only thing I wanted was for him to come down my throat and tell me how good I was for taking it all.
Temptations--Three Book Bundle Page 2