I tried to concentrate on painting the nails on the other foot. I did abysmally. Dan’s toes were too distracting. He had found my clitoris and insisted on teasing. I was so excited. From Dan’s insistent rubbing. From the fact that I had my legs spread lewdly and Art watched silently. Because my husband apparently wanted him to watch! I realised the quiet ‘evening in’ had been prearranged, but to satisfy my fantasy or Dan’s? Did it actually matter? I had never been able to find two men at the same time with whom I felt comfortable enough to engage in a threesome. Dan obviously trusted this man for whatever reason. So, I kept my legs sprawled and let Art look. I lifted my gaze to meet his and held it. The look he gave me was so full of heat that it forced a rush of blood to my pussy, flooding it with moisture. His dark eyes revealed everything he planned to do to me.
“Undo her blouse.” Every nerve ending in my body jumped to life. What I had mistaken for arrogance was Art’s sense of authority. I understood then. Art is a natural leader, Dan a follower. My hand jumped to the front of my blouse, but I didn’t resist as one by one Dan fumbled with the buttons until the material hung free. I don’t know why the idea of exposure thrilled me, yet my whole body tingled with anticipation. I reached up and removed my bra, impatient to show this commanding man my breasts. Dan muttered a low, territorial growl in warning. I ignored him. He had forfeited any right of complaint as soon as his foot pushed my thighs open. “Touch your nipples.” Without even considering Dan’s feelings, I obeyed.
Dan started to insinuate his toes past the side elastic of my panties. I felt the material bunch to one side, felt air on my hot flesh, felt Dan’s toe in my wetness. I abandoned all pretence of coyness. I held on to his foot, drew his toes deeper into me. Art slipped from his chair and sat next to me on the floor. In one quick movement, he had undone Dan’s fly and had my husband’s cock out into the open. I expected Dan to object. He didn’t. Art grasped the base of Dan’s hardening flesh and began to move his hand up and down. My eyes grew wide. I had mentally prepared myself for the expected threesome, but I had never imagined the two guys would get it on. I stared in fascination as he gently squeezed Dan’s balls. Art’s eyes bore into mine, challenging me to say something. His lips brushed against my ear, and his teeth softly nibbled my earlobe, sending shivers all down my side. I shuddered as the shockwaves of orgasm ran through me.
I had little respite before Art’s hand was in my hair. He drew me down onto Dan’s cock, guided it towards my mouth. I bent my head down over him, licked the little dripping mouth, running my tongue-tip round the underside of the head before I swallowed him, lightly dragging my teeth back along his shaft as I withdrew. Dan loves it when I do that. Then I began the process of slowly bobbing my head back down over him, taking him into the back of my mouth, rasping the rough underside with the edge of my bottom teeth. Art’s hand pressed down on the back of my head as I descended, but I resisted. The idea of him ‘forcing’ me onto Dan’s cock excited me. Disappointingly, Art didn’t respond, instead he let me continue at my own pace. However, he did go behind me to lift my skirt. I was gushing in expectation by then, convinced he was going to fuck me. Sure enough, Art peeled off my soaking panties. I lifted my knees to help him, felt a finger enter me, then another and I pushed back against them. I pushed between Dan’s thighs running my tongue up his taut scrotum anticipating the feel of Art’s cock. Instead, Art was back at my side, lifting me and edging me forward. I realised he wanted me to straddle Dan. For a second time he took hold of Dan’s cock, holding it upright while Dan carefully manoeuvred me onto him like an expensive piece of equipment until he was fully embedded. I could feel Art’s fingers squashed between us kneading Dan’s balls.
I writhed in pleasure as Art nibbled in the hollow of my neck. Dan let me get used to the feel of him inside me, and then his hands were on my hips encouraging me to move. I slid up and down his pole, Dan pushing up to meet me in time with my strokes. I kissed Dan like we hadn’t kissed in a long time. He responded just as enthusiastically. I moaned into his mouth as I thrust downwards to impale myself certain that from his ringside seat Art would be pleased with my enthusiasm. I felt Art shift on the settee. I opened my eyes to find him kneeling beside us. He had stripped naked and his erect cock loomed large in line with my mouth. I am one of nature’s cock worshippers. I poked out my tongue and touched the tip tentatively. It twitched. I looked to Dan for guidance. Would he be angry if I … It seemed he wouldn’t since his hands were in my hair pushing me towards it. Obediently I opened my mouth and took Art inside, or at least the part of Art that took my fancy. I tasted immediately the salty pre-come coating the bulbous head. I wasn’t going to be able to take all of him into my mouth so I settled for taking his large pink head. I gladly sucked on it greedily, Dan’s hands gently resting on the back of my head, his encouragement exciting me even more. I took all I could into me, sliding him to the back of my mouth. Yet, no sooner had I started to relish the feel of his hardness and it was gone.
I opened my eyes to see Art’s cock pressed against Dan’s lips. I felt a surge of excitement. What would Dan do? I willed him to take it. At college, a close friend had shown me a gay men’s magazine. I’ll never forget the rush I got looking at two large dicks rubbing up against each other. It turned me on because men turn me on. Hard cocks turn me on. Slowly Dan’s lips parted – he was understandably hesitant. But just as I had hoped, excitement finally overtook him and his tongue reached out to lick Art’s prick. I watched Dan’s face and saw he too was excited. I reached for my nipples, squeezed hard to stop myself from coming as I watched my husband swallow another man’s cock. Art withdrew from Dan’s mouth and I pounced on the bobbing member eagerly. This time Dan’s eyes were serious as I sucked Art deeper. I was conscious of Dan watching. I felt him grow harder deep within my pussy as I momentarily swallowed Art whole. I felt like a whore. I like sucking cock, but to be honest all I could think about at that moment was Dan’s willingness to do so. I wanted to watch Art fucking my husband’s mouth.
The second time Dan took Art more eagerly. Art pumped in and out of Dan’s mouth just the same as if it were mine. I slid up and down on Dan’s cock while I watched, mimicking the movement, feasting on the sumptuous vision before me. I brushed the hair away from my face and lowered my lips to Art’s balls, licking the underside of them and carefully taking one into my mouth. I gently rolled it around on my tongue, sucking it back and forth at the same time as Dan sucked Art’s cock into his mouth. From then on, Dan and I took turns sucking Art until it became too much for the visitor. He abandoned the rotation and simply slid his throbbing cock between the two of us. Dan and I pressed our lips either side of it while Art slid back and forth, clamped between two eager sets of lips. The sensation was bizarre, my face inches from Dan’s as we both worshipped this strange man’s cock. It is a disgusting thought I know, yet I hoped Art would come on us both. I wanted to kiss Dan, to feel the sticky porridge in his mouth, for him to relish it in mine.
Sadly, Art showed more control. Instead he moved away and encouraged Dan to lie back on the settee. I shuffled with him, disappointed at the lost opportunity, but keen to continue the adventure. I wondered what this imaginative man intended next. He gently pressed against my back until I lay sprawled on top of Dan, face to face, my tits pressed against his chest. Dan kissed me eagerly and I again thought of the missed opportunity. Then I felt hands on my bottom, fingers prising my cheeks apart. My own juices had made me slippery and Art’s finger slid easily into my bottom, making my hips buck as waves of pleasure went through me. For a moment, I thought Art was preparing to fuck me back there but as it turned out the intrusion was far more subtle.
“God, he’s licking my arse!” I gasped when Dan and I parted for breath. I didn’t know what I expected Dan to do about it. As Art curled his tongue and probed deeper I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about it. I loved the feel of him slobbering against my anus. The sensation was indescribable. He slowly licked my anus while Dan’s cock slid in an
d out of my cunt. He was driving me wild. They were driving me wild! I rode Dan like something possessed and he bucked wildly in response. Art’s hands were on my hips, his face buried deep in the crease of my bottom, desperately clinging on for dear life. He probed deeper and deeper, pumping his narrowed rigid tongue-tip in and out in tiny imitation of the movement of Dan’s cock. “Now he’s fucking my arse with his tongue,” I screamed into Dan’s mouth.
My frenzied outburst was too much for Dan. I tightened my grip on his cock as he fucked me in earnest, arching up as I pushed down. He rammed into me harder and harder, and I knew it couldn’t be long before he would come. Dan was grunting, making animal sounds I’d never heard him make before. Art’s hands gripped my hips tighter, and I thrust back against him, wriggling to take even more of his tongue. I didn’t know whether to push down onto Dan’s cock or push back against Art’s tongue. I sighed in ecstasy, totally surrendering to the dual sensation. I fought my rising orgasm, trying to prolong the exquisite pleasure, but the end was inevitable. Then, with a sudden upward lunge, Dan pushed as far into me as he could. I felt his whole body stiffen as he shot his load into me. I came instantly, only vaguely aware that Art was kneeling over me furiously pounding on his cock. I half-turned in time to see him spray his semen onto my quivering bottom. I flopped forward into my husband’s waiting arms, pushing my mouth against his, trying to muffle myself as I came again and we all collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap.
As their cocks withered and we returned to reality, Dan looked at me with a mixture of embarrassment and apology. I flashed him a loving smile, reassuring him he had nothing for which to apologise, though I suspected that come the cold light of morning Dan would feel differently. As for Art, he was due to catch his flight back to America the next day. I felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. A part of me wanted him to stay so we could explore other scenarios. Fact was I would probably never see him again, which would circumnavigate any awkwardness. For some reason I felt empowered by the whole experience and I realised I had a small window of opportunity on which to capitalise. Carpe diem, I mused. The one phrase of Latin I knew. The only problem I foresaw was deciding to which of these gorgeous men I should surrender my anal virginity. My loving husband or the dark-eyed stranger? I reached out and took a cock in each hand, stroking and kneading them until they were again erect. Oh well … I figured I’d cross that bridge when – and if – we got to it.
No Pan Kissa
by Cyanne
There was a warm breeze in the night air, as spring was taking hold of London and bringing with it a feeling of possibility. It had been a long day and our laughter bordered on hysteria as we walked through Soho towards Madam Jojo’s.
As we cut down a side street the garish neon seemed to intensify around a flashing pink sign in Japanese. A new bar had opened by the look of things. Venues came and went all the time, taking the in-crowd with them, but this one seemed to be causing a stir, with stag groups revelling around outside and the old school kerb-crawler types in macs who still haunted the area creeping past like throwbacks from the pre-fashion bona fide red-light district days. Two stunning young Asian girls in race queen outfits were flyering outside the door and beckoning the grinning stags and their entourages into the venue, which, as we walked past, I saw was called No Pan Kissa.
‘What do you reckon ‘no pan’ means?’ Charlotte said. ‘Is it some crazy new cooking thing without pans. Maybe it’s all raw. Maybe they have special …’
‘It means no panties.’ Jason cut her coke-addled musings short.
‘No fucking panties? Is that the customers or the staff?’
We all laughed.
‘The staff. It’s a Japanese thing. In Kyoto in the 80s and 90s they had these bottomless waitress cafes and all the pervy old businessmen would pay extra for their coffee for an occasional glimpse of pussy. They all got shut down or went out of fashion or something. I’m pretty sure that’s what it is though.’
‘Seems a bit mental, even for Soho!’
While the other girls tutted and let rip with their inner feminists my pussy got wet at the thought of a hot waitress in a short uniform bending over and flashing her pussy, and even more so imagining that waitress was me. We walked down the street and I craned my neck back towards the little den of iniquity. One of the promo girls did a high kick and I swear she had nothing on under her little yellow skirt. The stag party pushed each other around to get a better look. I was smitten. It was no use trying to get my work mates to go and have a better look, I generally find it’s better to hide the fact that I’m a dirty bitch from the people I work with, so I texted my filthiest fuck buddy, JD, and said I had a surprise for him and to meet me tomorrow.
When I got back from the gig I Googled ‘No Pan Kissa’ and sure enough what Jason said was true. I don’t think I’ve ever rubbed one out to a Wikipedia entry before but I came hard and soaking wet to the unemotive descriptions of the Tokyo trend for cafes where a glimpse of hot young pussy was served up alongside the shabu shabu.
I met JD for a drink first and he filled me in on his latest conquests; a threesome with two performance artists and bedding a fetish model from Poland, I knew I’d picked the right companion to accompany me into the no panties café. As we strolled through Soho JD slipped his hand around my waist and his hand found his way under my skirt and over my thigh, finding it free of even the skimpiest thong.
‘Getting into the spirit of things are we?’ JD said with an appreciative smile.
‘I couldn’t help myself’, I said, already soaking at the prospect of what we were going to see.
The flyer girls were outside again, wearing classic porno Japanese schoolgirl uniforms – black pleated skirts, white shirts and socks and striped ties. As we approached they called out ‘Irashaimasu!’ in their irresistible tones.
Inside was as much a neon nightmare as the exterior. Urgent Japanese pop blasted out of a 1950s jukebox while animé played on huge screens above a brightly lit high-tech coffee bar. Vending machines offered Hello Kitty phone charms and Pokemon toys alongside crotchless panties and flavoured condoms. A sushi conveyor carried elaborate creations around the room, bizarrely high up the wall out of most people’s reach.
A stunning waitress with bright blue hair showed us to a table and handed us laminated menus decorated with coquettish girls teasing the hems of their skirts, and brash yellow bubbles offering tea for £10 a pot and sushi for £20 a dish. We ordered tea and lapped up the unbelievable sights. JD slipped his hand under the table and stroked my thigh, just stopping short of my pussy, knowing it would drive me wild as I indulged my inner Sapphic voyeur.
‘What do you think that conveyor belt’s all about then?’ JD asked, sliding his finger between my lips and grazing my clit.
I moaned softly.
‘Like I can concentrate on anything while you’re doing that!’
Our waitress returned with a tray of green tea in little black bowls. She placed it on our table and tilted the tray, letting a pair of chopsticks fall to the ground.
‘Very sorry,’ she said. ‘Allow me.’
She turned her back to us and bent from the waist to pick them up. Her tiny pleated skirt flipped up exposing her perfect behind and we both gasped as her pussy pouted up at us. She stayed there for a few seconds and I almost came as JD stroked my clit so gently, then she stood up and walked away, leaving us both breathless. We’d been to God knows how many strip clubs but there was something so much naughtier about a waitress ‘accidentally’ flashing her cunt.
We’d hardly got our breath back when the mystery of the sushi belt was solved when two American businessmen ordered from it. Their tiny waitress beckoned over the huge doorman. He walked over and ran his hands up her legs, under her skirt and lifted her up to the conveyor belt, pulling her skirt up to the waist, right at the eye level of the men. The belt moved slowly and she lifted dishes down one by one, offering small plates of sashimi, shrimp and makizushi while the men’s eyes darted
from her bare body to the food on offer. When they selected their dishes, the doorman lowered her down and she coquettishly smoothed down her skirt with a practised art of fetish, knowing that a hint of shame makes exposure ten times more exciting.
It was more than I could stand. JD nodded towards the unisex toilets and I followed him in, barely attempting to not look suspicious.
We fell into a cubicle and I grabbed at his flies.
‘Not tonight, honey, this is all about you’.
He pressed me back into the wall and ran his hands up my legs.
‘Close your eyes.’
His hands ran higher and my skirt lifted.
‘The whole café’s going to see your pussy. Can you feel how bare you are? How exposed you look?’
He pushed higher and pulled my legs apart slightly.
‘All the men are looking at you.’
He buried his face into my pussy and started to lick. I pulled his head into me and melted into the sensation. He knew just how to get me off, circling my clit with his tongue then backing off and pressing light kisses all over my pussy, teasing me into a delicious climax. I pulled my skirt back down shyly, mirroring what I’d seen the waitress do.
‘You’ll have to walk about with a wet little pussy all night now won’t you? Anyway, are you going to make this little fantasy a reality and get a job here or what?’
Temptations--Three Book Bundle Page 12