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The Dinner

Your promised special evening couldn't have been better. Dinner at the posh restaurant, even though you made me eat new things that I've tried before (surprisingly delicious although I won't tell you that, haha), wine, though I usually don't drink it, was amazing. I had always thought all wine tasted like that inexpensive vinegar that I had tried before. But at $250 a bottle, my eyes were opened to the explosion of flavors that I never knew could exist together. My head is still spinning but I don't know if it is from the wine or the giddiness of being on your arm, our finally being together after so long.

Not even the cool night air upon leaving the restaurant could clear my head. It was as though the pleasure of being with you clouded all other perceptions, making even the lights of the parking lot glow oddly, like a watercolor painting where colors bled beautifully across lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Suddenly, a grip that was not your own ripped me from your arm. I hadn't heard anyone approach, but we were surrounded by bodies and I felt tossed from one set of hands to another. I cannot find my voice – was that from the wine, or was it more? Even your voice echoed like from a tunnel instead of clearly like you are but a few feet from me. Your protests, angry and loud cannot make me shake the cloud that has settled on my mind. Faces flash briefly before my eyes – isn't that the face of the waiter who served the wine? Too late to decide as the black hood shuts out the dim light of the parking lot.

I can't hear your voice any longer. Oddly, my concern is for your safety more than my own as the vehicle that I've been tossed into rumbles off across speed bumps, ignoring any sense of safety as we speed to some destination – where? Where am I being taken? I can't think, not from fear – that makes your senses sharper. No, this lingering feeling has to be from something else. Could it have been the wine that tasted so good? Did the sweet savor disguise something more sinister within? I don't have time to ponder it as we pull into what I guess is a driveway and screech to a stop. My abductors have been strangely quiet, not responding to my pleas to let me go or explain what is happening. The doors open and this time the shock of the night air not only doesn't clear away my confusion but seems to make this less clear.

The burly chest that had held me fast at the parking lot now practically lifts me from my seat, half carrying me and half leading, and takes me up some steps and through a door that slams loudly behind me. I know I should be feeling more fear than I am, but my body responds oppositely, almost tingling in anticipation of the unknown. My wrists had been secured when I was first grabbed. Now they are released from my bonds but not from multiple grips as I am spun around and pushed against what I assume is a wall. There I am held as item after item of my clothing is taken – ripped, from my body, yet I cannot find the words to protest. My tongue is tied by what I am now convinced was more than just wine. Drugs perhaps? Had to have been to make my fear be replaced by the strange euphoria.

As each piece of clothing is pulled away, it is replaced by rough, searching hands or damp clamping lips. My skin has become a canvas to be painted by forceful tongues behind sensual lips and pressing fingers that electrify my senses. I feel my nipples grow hard against my will as they are circled simultaneously by two tongues, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers from the top of my spine to the end of my toes. I open my mouth to protest but the only thing to escape is a deep sigh of pleasure at all the sensations that are exploding all over my body. The hood over my head is pulled up halfway so that my eyes are still covered and then secured behind my head so that it becomes a binding mask. But one flash of light before the task is completed lets me see a sliver of the face of one of my captors. I have to be drugged because it looked for that instant like my Dom's co-worker who I had met only briefly once but had made an impression by his rugged, handsome features. No, it could not be, could it?

The thought is ripped from my mind as my gaping mouth, gasping at growing pleasure from being touched from so many directions at once, is suddenly filled with two fingers. Instead of defensively biting it, I find myself sucking them, tasting my juices on them, realizing that they were the ones that had just now stopped pumping my unresisting pussy, now dripping with evidence of my excitement mixed with fear. I moaned at the wonderful taste of myself as other fingers took the place of those that were now in my mouth. My hips involuntarily pump onto the hand that is against me while his (I assume his) fingers are curling against my inner walls and are driven relentlessly as deep as they can go into my tightness.

The owner of the ones in my mouth must be satisfied that I will not bite him, because the fingers are briefly pulled out and replaced by a thick, throbbing cock which I eagerly take in, licking and sucking as it literally fills my mouth. My moans as I suck it must seem like a vibrator to its owner because I hear the first sounds from him as he growls his pleasure at my tongue swirling around his tip. I know it shouldn't, but the sound urges me on and I feel his cock start to pulse against the roof of my mouth and I realize he is close to cumming. But I can't think about that now as fingers are withdrawn from my drenched pussy and replaced by another cock, thicker and longer than the one that fills my mouth. I struggle against the hands holding my wrists down. They probably would allow them to be free if they knew that I only wanted to stroke the cock that trembles against my lips. Where is the fear that I should be feeling? The disgust at being ravaged by I don't know who? It could be anyone, but whatever was in the wine has me not caring as long as the cock in my pussy keeps filling me over and over with those long, deep strokes.

The owner of the cock in my mouth pulls out suddenly and I almost cry out in disappointment as I feel his hot load spill out over my boobs, which only moments before had had two sets of lips attached to each nipple. How many of them are there, anyway? I have no way of knowing and actually don't care as long as they don't stop. That is until I hear, “OK, guys, she's ready for me. Back off.”

My heart nearly stops. Even through the drug-induced fog of pleasure, I recognize your voice. As they remove the mask/hood, you are standing naked in front of me, your cock at the ready.

"I promised you a CNC adventure. I had to wait these weeks to give it to you so that you would forget and it would be a surprise. But just to make sure that you would be too frightened, I had to add a bit of "incentive" to your wine. I've loved watching you be pleasured, but I can't hold back any longer. I need you too much now.”

My mind seems to clear at your words, but the pleasure of the last minutes lingers as you kneel and fall into me. Moments later, all is awash in torrential waves of pleasure as my pussy squeezes the last of your cum into me while my body is wracked with ecstasy from my own cumming.

Best. Dinner. Ever!

THE RESERVATION

“May I take off the mask now?” she asked.

“Must you be so impatient?” I replied. “Wait for me to open the door for you. I'll lead you in.”

She protested with a muffled, “Humph!” but relinquished her curiosity and waited. She listened in silence as I confirmed the reservation and paid for our session. The exchange only revitalized her curiosity, yet with great effort she remained silent.

I led her to our reserved room and guided her to a plush seat.

“Okay, you can remove the mask now.”

“What is this place?” she asked, looking around the room. Everything was elaborately decorated. Red leather lined the walls. There were several oddly shaped benches and chairs. There was a sink and vanity, but this was obviously not a typical hotel room or any familiar room for that matter. Several cutouts were dotting the opposing walls, each lined with cushioned black leather to contrast that of the wall. In one corner, there was an odd bench catercorner to two walls. At each end were two larger cutouts, one having a small cushioned ledge beneath it. On one wall between the cutouts hung several easily recognized BDSM implements – paddles, floggers, riding whips. She looked quizzed to me for an explanation.

“You were always curious when we would explore our kinks, wondering what a glory hole experience would be like, but hesitant because every one we had seen in porn was in some cheap restroom adapted with plywood holes drilled raggedly with a rough saw. This,” I responded waving my hand around, “is the country club version. In addition to the hefty membership fee, each session is a thousand dollars. Every member has to pass rigorous screening, including health ones for STDs. Here you can explore your abject fantasies with complete confidence.”

Her wide-eyed anxiety melted into a narrow-eyed grin. “How do I begin?” already tugging at her clothes. I watched as her body was revealed with each discarded piece of clothing. I picked them up and hung them on the provided hooks. They thought of everything when designing this place, including the tripod in the corner on which I set up my phone for recording.

“When you are ready, flip the switch on this wall. I will activate a light outside the room, alerting the patrons that the room is occupied and ready.” As soon as the switch was flipped, the cutouts began to fill with dicks of all shapes and lengths. Her eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop and she licked her lips as her mouth began to water. Kneeling on the soft carpet between two holes, she grasped the nearest dicks protruding grin them, stroking each as she decided which would grace her hungry mouth first.

Moving from one to the other, her skilled tongue traced up the length of each, taking them in deep, leaving trails of drool as she pleasured herself on them. Still, this was not her forte, she much preferred having her mouth fucked. So after her stroking of the two dicks in hand left her with their cum on her face and tits, she expressed that she wanted it differently.

“That's what the corner bench is for. Staddle it face down, rest your chin on the shelf, and open your mouth.”

She smiled as she did so, adjusting her chin on the shelf. Within moments, there was a long cock thrusting into her eager mouth leaving her gagging and drooling all over it. She was pleased to discover that the leather on the bench was textured in such a way that she could grind her clit on it while being face-fucked, but she wasn't expecting the cock that entered her dripping pussy from the other corner against which the bench rested.

Moans and gasps filled the room as she was filled like a spit on the bench. The cock in her pussy pulled out and came onto her ass, but the one in her mouth was enjoying her sucking too much and emptied his pulsing, throbbing dick into her throat. She moved from that bench to one that was right against the opposite wall, wiggling her perfect ass as close to the opening as possible. Soon there was the head of a dick probing her swollen pussy lips, the tip running up and down her slit, but settling at the tight opening of her ass. She tensed as it began to probe her other opening, but he was gentle, allowing her to adjust, pushing into her ass in short, brief thrusts, until she began to buck against it, driving it deep into her ass.

Being filled that was not enough for her. She motioned to me to come in front of the bench. Enough voyeurism. I eagerly bared my cock and plunged it into her warm, wet, mouth.

“Fuuuck,” I managed to murmur as my dick sank into her throat again and again, pausing only to let her wrap her tongue around the tip and suck me back in.

She made the rounds to each of the openings at least twice before giving in to her euphoric exhaustion. She lay on the carpeted floor, her chest heaving, covered in cum, her clit swollen, her pussy lips drenched with a mixture of cum and her juices. She had lost count of how many times she had cum in the haze of her cock sleeve mindlessness. She was barely aware of my lifting her and taking her through a door at the back of the room that led to a private shower. I practically had to hold her up on her shaky legs while the warm water rinsed away the copious amount of cum from her body.

I dried her off and helped her dress. She slept most of the way home, a smile on her face as she dreamed of her next trip there.

The Dinner

Your promised special evening couldn't have been better. Dinner at the posh restaurant, even though you made me eat new things that I've tried before (surprisingly delicious although I won't tell you that, haha), wine, though I usually don't drink it, was amazing. I had always thought all wine tasted like that inexpensive vinegar that I had tried before. But at $250 a bottle, my eyes were opened to the explosion of flavors that I never knew could exist together. My head is still spinning but I don't know if it is from the wine or the giddiness of being on your arm, our finally being together after so long.

Not even the cool night air upon leaving the restaurant could clear my head. It was as though the pleasure of being with you clouded all other perceptions, making even the lights of the parking lot glow oddly, like a watercolor painting where colors bled beautifully across lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Suddenly, a grip that was not your own ripped me from your arm. I hadn't heard anyone approach, but we were surrounded by bodies and I felt tossed from one set of hands to another. I cannot find my voice – was that from the wine, or was it more? Even your voice echoed like from a tunnel instead of clearly like you are but a few feet from me. Your protests, angry and loud cannot make me shake the cloud that has settled on my mind. Faces flash briefly before my eyes – isn't that the face of the waiter who served the wine? Too late to decide as the black hood shuts out the dim light of the parking lot.

I can't hear your voice any longer. Oddly, my concern is for your safety more than my own as the vehicle that I've been tossed into rumbles off across speed bumps, ignoring any sense of safety as we speed to some destination – where? Where am I being taken? I can't think, not from fear – that makes your senses sharper. No, this lingering feeling has to be from something else. Could it have been the wine that tasted so good? Did the sweet savor disguise something more sinister within? I don't have time to ponder it as we pull into what I guess is a driveway and screech to a stop. My abductors have been strangely quiet, not responding to my pleas to let me go or explain what is happening. The doors open and this time the shock of the night air not only doesn't clear away my confusion but seems to make this less clear.

The burly chest that had held me fast at the parking lot now practically lifts me from my seat, half carrying me and half leading, and takes me up some steps and through a door that slams loudly behind me. I know I should be feeling more fear than I am, but my body responds oppositely, almost tingling in anticipation of the unknown. My wrists had been secured when I was first grabbed. Now they are released from my bonds but not from multiple grips as I am spun around and pushed against what I assume is a wall. There I am held as item after item of my clothing is taken – ripped, from my body, yet I cannot find the words to protest. My tongue is tied by what I am now convinced was more than just wine. Drugs perhaps? Had to have been to make my fear be replaced by the strange euphoria.

As each piece of clothing is pulled away, it is replaced by rough, searching hands or damp clamping lips. My skin has become a canvas to be painted by forceful tongues behind sensual lips and pressing fingers that electrify my senses. I feel my nipples grow hard against my will as they are circled simultaneously by two tongues, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers from the top of my spine to the end of my toes. I open my mouth to protest but the only thing to escape is a deep sigh of pleasure at all the sensations that are exploding all over my body. The hood over my head is pulled up halfway so that my eyes are still covered and then secured behind my head so that it becomes a binding mask. But one flash of light before the task is completed lets me see a sliver of the face of one of my captors. I have to be drugged because it looked for that instant like my Dom's co-worker who I had met only briefly once but had made an impression by his rugged, handsome features. No, it could not be, could it?

The thought is ripped from my mind as my gaping mouth, gasping at growing pleasure from being touched from so many directions at once, is suddenly filled with two fingers. Instead of defensively biting it, I find myself sucking them, tasting my juices on them, realizing that they were the ones that had just now stopped pumping my unresisting pussy, now dripping with evidence of my excitement mixed with fear. I moaned at the wonderful taste of myself as other fingers took the place of those that were now in my mouth. My hips involuntarily pump onto the hand that is against me while his (I assume his) fingers are curling against my inner walls and are driven relentlessly as deep as they can go into my tightness.

The owner of the ones in my mouth must be satisfied that I will not bite him, because the fingers are briefly pulled out and replaced by a thick, throbbing cock which I eagerly take in, licking and sucking as it literally fills my mouth. My moans as I suck it must seem like a vibrator to its owner because I hear the first sounds from him as he growls his pleasure at my tongue swirling around his tip. I know it shouldn't, but the sound urges me on and I feel his cock start to pulse against the roof of my mouth and I realize he is close to cumming. But I can't think about that now as fingers are withdrawn from my drenched pussy and replaced by another cock, thicker and longer than the one that fills my mouth. I struggle against the hands holding my wrists down. They probably would allow them to be free if they knew that I only wanted to stroke the cock that trembles against my lips. Where is the fear that I should be feeling? The disgust at being ravaged by I don't know who? It could be anyone, but whatever was in the wine has me not caring as long as the cock in my pussy keeps filling me over and over with those long, deep strokes.

The owner of the cock in my mouth pulls out suddenly and I almost cry out in disappointment as I feel his hot load spill out over my boobs, which only moments before had had two sets of lips attached to each nipple. How many of them are there, anyway? I have no way of knowing and actually don't care as long as they don't stop. That is until I hear, “OK, guys, she's ready for me. Back off.”

My heart nearly stops. Even through the drug-induced fog of pleasure, I recognize your voice. As they remove the mask/hood, you are standing naked in front of me, your cock at the ready.

"I promised you a CNC adventure. I had to wait these weeks to give it to you so that you would forget and it would be a surprise. But just to make sure that you would be too frightened, I had to add a bit of "incentive" to your wine. I've loved watching you be pleasured, but I can't hold back any longer. I need you too much now.”

My mind seems to clear at your words, but the pleasure of the last minutes lingers as you kneel and fall into me. Moments later, all is awash in torrential waves of pleasure as my pussy squeezes the last of your cum into me while my body is wracked with ecstasy from my own cumming.

Best. Dinner. Ever!

THE RESERVATION

“May I take off the mask now?” she asked.

“Must you be so impatient?” I replied. “Wait for me to open the door for you. I'll lead you in.”

She protested with a muffled, “Humph!” but relinquished her curiosity and waited. She listened in silence as I confirmed the reservation and paid for our session. The exchange only revitalized her curiosity, yet with great effort she remained silent.

I led her to our reserved room and guided her to a plush seat.

“Okay, you can remove the mask now.”

“What is this place?” she asked, looking around the room. Everything was elaborately decorated. Red leather lined the walls. There were several oddly shaped benches and chairs. There was a sink and vanity, but this was obviously not a typical hotel room or any familiar room for that matter. Several cutouts were dotting the opposing walls, each lined with cushioned black leather to contrast that of the wall. In one corner, there was an odd bench catercorner to two walls. At each end were two larger cutouts, one having a small cushioned ledge beneath it. On one wall between the cutouts hung several easily recognized BDSM implements – paddles, floggers, riding whips. She looked quizzed to me for an explanation.

“You were always curious when we would explore our kinks, wondering what a glory hole experience would be like, but hesitant because every one we had seen in porn was in some cheap restroom adapted with plywood holes drilled raggedly with a rough saw. This,” I responded waving my hand around, “is the country club version. In addition to the hefty membership fee, each session is a thousand dollars. Every member has to pass rigorous screening, including health ones for STDs. Here you can explore your abject fantasies with complete confidence.”

Her wide-eyed anxiety melted into a narrow-eyed grin. “How do I begin?” already tugging at her clothes. I watched as her body was revealed with each discarded piece of clothing. I picked them up and hung them on the provided hooks. They thought of everything when designing this place, including the tripod in the corner on which I set up my phone for recording.

“When you are ready, flip the switch on this wall. I will activate a light outside the room, alerting the patrons that the room is occupied and ready.” As soon as the switch was flipped, the cutouts began to fill with dicks of all shapes and lengths. Her eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop and she licked her lips as her mouth began to water. Kneeling on the soft carpet between two holes, she grasped the nearest dicks protruding grin them, stroking each as she decided which would grace her hungry mouth first.

Moving from one to the other, her skilled tongue traced up the length of each, taking them in deep, leaving trails of drool as she pleasured herself on them. Still, this was not her forte, she much preferred having her mouth fucked. So after her stroking of the two dicks in hand left her with their cum on her face and tits, she expressed that she wanted it differently.

“That's what the corner bench is for. Staddle it face down, rest your chin on the shelf, and open your mouth.”

She smiled as she did so, adjusting her chin on the shelf. Within moments, there was a long cock thrusting into her eager mouth leaving her gagging and drooling all over it. She was pleased to discover that the leather on the bench was textured in such a way that she could grind her clit on it while being face-fucked, but she wasn't expecting the cock that entered her dripping pussy from the other corner against which the bench rested.

Moans and gasps filled the room as she was filled like a spit on the bench. The cock in her pussy pulled out and came onto her ass, but the one in her mouth was enjoying her sucking too much and emptied his pulsing, throbbing dick into her throat. She moved from that bench to one that was right against the opposite wall, wiggling her perfect ass as close to the opening as possible. Soon there was the head of a dick probing her swollen pussy lips, the tip running up and down her slit, but settling at the tight opening of her ass. She tensed as it began to probe her other opening, but he was gentle, allowing her to adjust, pushing into her ass in short, brief thrusts, until she began to buck against it, driving it deep into her ass.

Being filled that was not enough for her. She motioned to me to come in front of the bench. Enough voyeurism. I eagerly bared my cock and plunged it into her warm, wet, mouth.

“Fuuuck,” I managed to murmur as my dick sank into her throat again and again, pausing only to let her wrap her tongue around the tip and suck me back in.

She made the rounds to each of the openings at least twice before giving in to her euphoric exhaustion. She lay on the carpeted floor, her chest heaving, covered in cum, her clit swollen, her pussy lips drenched with a mixture of cum and her juices. She had lost count of how many times she had cum in the haze of her cock sleeve mindlessness. She was barely aware of my lifting her and taking her through a door at the back of the room that led to a private shower. I practically had to hold her up on her shaky legs while the warm water rinsed away the copious amount of cum from her body.

I dried her off and helped her dress. She slept most of the way home, a smile on her face as she dreamed of her next trip there.