Crystal's StorySite storysite.org |
Sydian: At Dinner-The Sequel To 'Working Out'
by Sydian
Sydian/Who Came At Dinner?/Ch 1. Afternoon Delight—A Hot Tub
'You'll dress appropriately'….the line stayed in her head all day long. Luckily, the two o'clock had been perfunctory….they wanted to settle; and good for them! They were the one outfit that Sydd had relished tearing a new asshole for—and not as an act of pleasure, either—but their day would come….
'Evening ' to all as she left the office; took the elevator down, the descent causing her balls to rise in her thong…not exactly pleasant, that….she smoothed the front of the white shift, checked her seams—yes, white shift, white-seamed, Cuban-heeled thigh-highs—uhm huh—there were two places that ordered them just for her—one in the Village, the other in G'town. And, of course, her famous stilettos—these, white—how could they not be?.... She stepped from the elevator, turned onto the street and strode up the avenue….
Perfect spring evening. 'What to wear….' 'Appropriate' for what? She passed the flower stand….the smell of fresh lilies caused her to pause….So beautiful…. 'Could I have two dozen please? A dozen white Callas, and the rest mixed Tigers….' She thought of Rivera's 'Calla Lilies'….could see herself nude, kneeling, that apple-ass of hers exposed, exposing her thick 'tail,' as she gathered her lilies a la Rivera…The short, Asian woman handed Sydd the bundle and smiled, 'Almost as pretty as you….' Sydd would have blushed, if she could…She just bent and pecked the old one on the cheek, paid her, and waved goodbye….
'What to wear?' it still played in Sydd's head as the doorman opened the door. She crossed the atrium of the condo for the glass elevators; she didn't bother to check her mail….he held the elevator for her….absent-mindedly she said thank you, and just as nonplussed, she untied her thong and whipped it from beneath her hem without flourish—sighed—freedom….he wasn't there; at least not for her he wasn't; though his reaction was quite readable: somewhere between shock and the wish to see more….
The air felt too good kissing her crotch….She had been 'good' all day….well, at least since her 'workout'….The air made her cock twitch…he may have noticed…but it was his stop…Sydd smirked…blew a kiss at the back of his bald head and continued her ascent….She was swollen by the time the door open a floor below the penthouse…..
***
She really didn't want sex…at least not yet….What she really wanted was the tub—deep, hot, luxurious….and enough time for a nap….and what to wear….
The tub steamed. A fragrant mist hung above the scented, oiled waters. Flowers were arranged all around the huge bathing space; candles flickered against the smoked mirrors, making the space even larger. They reflected walls tiled from ceiling to floor, completely black, matched by a black pedestal sink, toilet, and bidet, a corner shower, and a deep black whirlpool tub. The blackness was only broken by strings of minimalist copper sheathed lamps, suspended from the ceiling; above them, the skylight.
The skylight was wondrous. It consumed the center of the room; the tub took up half of its lighted space. Sydd stepped into its light, candles flitting against the mirrored backdrop. The metallic black silk robe fell from her shoulders like a slow-motion movie pan….The evening sun had its chance to kiss and bathe her before the water would….Light cascaded off the slope of her brow, was cradled in hollows of the her finely sculpted shoulders, caught the tips of her erect nipples, glossed the cheeks of her ass, glanced off the head of that flaccid wonder between her thighs, and stopped to dance between her toes….black, polished sculpture in the center of this black mirrored space; naturally lit. Lemons. Lemonade. Sydian was in love with life—no doubt about it as the big toe tested the waters…..She knew how to manage it, even the hot water….
She stepped into the tub. Slid beneath the surface. The waters enclosed her like a blanket—a comforter….the jets began to hum. Below the surface, water swirled, caressing and pricking her flesh all at the same time. She closed her eyes; in her nakedness, settled back….
She knew it would happen. It always did. The body is a curious thing. Especially for those 'curious things' blessed with certain portions of the male anatomy. Here, water—hot or cold—is supposed to have the same effect; both cause the organ to 'retreat.' It shrinks in self defense. But in hot water, once acclimated and with the proper mindset, the relaxed body flexes its own 'muscle.' The jets of the whirlpool help. Sydd was totally amazed—'undone'—when she first realized the carnal benefits of the whirlpool. Of course, they were 'carnal'; after all, it was the body. But the whirlpool's jets, properly positioned, were ultimately decadent—the very proper reference to the carnality that could be experienced in the tub.
Sydd knew what water could do. She had experienced the faucet as a kid….jacking in the shower was a serious adolescent pleasure. But they held nothing in comparison to the tub and its jets. Sydd's tub was custom. The jets had been positioned according to various anatomical specs—some therapeutic; some even more so….
Acclimated; physically relaxed; calm and cocooned, Sydd let the water have its way. She let it works its magic….The strangest of the jets—three of them—were situated on the floor of the tub, less than six inches apart, in the immediate proximity of where she would rest her bum….and of course her cock….on the tile wall was the control-panel. Sydd knew its braille by heart.
The one beneath her ass began a slow rhythmic pulse….almost as if it had a life of its own…it was programmed—they all were; water temp and timing….The jet pulsed up her ass. She snuggled; eyes closed; buoyant, she swiveled her hips in the water, found its rhythm. Just then the jet in front of her cock switched on. Its gentle force pushed her cock flat against her belly. A thousand bubbles attacked her asshole and balls, then washed up the shaft of her cock and over its head…..
Two side jets kicked in and forced her cock to stand straight in the churning water…straight and hard….water swirled around the barely submerged head, nipping and biting it…Sydd moaned…thrashed lightly as her grip on the sides of the tub grew tighter and tighter….it always happened this way….She was a prisoner in her own tub. The sensation of the water and the jets suspended and immobilized her. Her cock rose from the water without her ever having to touch it, licked and whipped by the froth….
It was excruciating. Her knuckles ached gripping the tub. Her hips gently pumped the water….The jet angled at her prostate jammed it with a hard, thick spray. She jumped and cream leaped from the slit of her cock. Some splattered her bottom lip. More spurts of cum jumped from her slit as the jet punched the fragile space between her balls and asshole….they hit the foam, the cream churning, creating a milk bath….
Sydd's moan was muffled as the assault ended…She turned her face sidewise in the neck cradle that prevented her from slipping below the surface, and slipped below the surface of a light sleep….
The water lapped above her lip, she caught the scent of her own cum, roused herself, and stepped from the tub to the rug. What had been sunlight was now moonlight, and the slick, water-beaded onyx sculpture was awash in light once again….
Sydian/Who came at Dinner?/Ch 2. Dressed Appropriately
Naked. Sydd moved slowly from the black of the bath to the white of the bedroom. Cool, crisp, white cotton sheets beckoned. Freshly laundered, smelling of nothing but clean, she collapsed—clocked for twenty minutes of repose. The proverbial power nap—smooth, black body on crisp, white, cool cotton.
Amazing. Twenty minutes and all new. Re-energized. The power nap…. 'hmmmmm…..power. What to wear?' Sydd rose, walked into the closet. 'Power,' she mused, 'power.' And there it was—the central piece. New; she hadn't had the chance to wear this one: black, leather corset, front-clasped, and boned. It beckoned; it pointed her to the crotch-less jodhurs—'Sure,' she laughed, 'now the clothes are talkin' to me.' But, the intuition was right. There was the supple leather cod-piece, and finally, the five-inch, black thighboots—stiletto only, please.
She brought the gear back to the bed, dumped it there. She grabbed a bottle of body-oil, lavished her body from head to toe. The sheen she obtained made her 'reflective'….she toweled to a soft, soft glow…. 'better,' she cooed. She buffed her nails. Ruffled, then brushed that nappy, blond head—winked at herself: 'hey, pretty, black girl….Mmmmmm, you're naked….' Yeah, Sydd could be a fool…big fun, but you didn't want to get on her bad side….
Yep. She was naked. In the full-length, she started her face. Some would argue that there wasn't much to do. She was—the word is—'striking.' No two ways about it: either so 'odd' that you stared; or so stunning you were forced to look twice. She had been known to take the breath away. The genetic material showed right through. And rather than try to hide it, she capitalized on it. On the narrow face everything was accentuated—wide. Wide, almond-shaped eyes; high cheek bones; long, wide nose. And that wide, full mouth. And the color! In a jealous hiss, she had once been called 'purple'—she wasn't quite all that, but there was no mistaking that she was black. Then against that, the 'opposites' of those short blond napps, and those cobalt lenses….And 'voila!', as the marketers would say, 'Totally ethnic.' Yep. A real, black 'girl.' A queen of the African diaspora….a 'queen,' literally, she laughed….
Eyes and lips done, she felt the rush. A tingle, a slight stirring in the loins. She glanced in the mirror, smiled: 'Hello.' 'Sydd, you're such a little bitch,' she thought. 'Keep it up and you'll never be able to tie that codpiece….'
***
All done up, Sydd pulled the corset round her back, sucked in and began snapping the 'fireman's' clasps. Done, she spilled over the top, her roseates half moons; her nipples barely covered, 'squirming' to leap the breach. 'Yep. That works,' she breathed, as she clamped a 'JJ' on her left nipple. The twitching of her cock told her so too….
After a bit of well-deserved narcissism, she pulled on a pair of expensive thigh-highs—seamed, but who would know in this get-up? Then came the jodhpurs. The oil served its purpose….the leather pants—or what there was of them given they had no crotch or ass—slid over her thighs with no difficulty at all. She snapped them and, once again marveled at herself. This time, the way the pants made her ass stand out—not that it didn't anyway….But this, this was something else….she smirked….
Sydd loved looking at herself. Now, how should this be explained? Vanity? Narcissism? Egocentrism and self-centeredness? Sure. But possibly not in the ways these ideas are usually understood. Sydd's love of self could only be understood in terms of the idea that Sydd truly marveled at what she had become. For her, each pass by a mirror; each reflection, registered on something incredible—someone she didn't fully recognize, and could hardly ever come to know, unless she took the time to 'meet and greet' this creature on every possible occasion. Sydd was not only an anomaly in a shaky world that thought itself dominated by the 'great, white straight,' and by the femmes with obsessions for Monroe or Cher; she was also a rebel in a world in which black girls fell under the sway of 'long' hair and Beyonce-like looks. Dark, short, and nappy, Sydd was the odd-girl out for more than one reason. She had nothing against these girls—some of them—many—were her lovers and best friends. In this context, Sydd's glass-gazing was witness to a rather healthy sense of amazement and perspective-gathering when she caught her own reflection. This was accompanied by the requisite amount of 'cheerleading' as well….The corset and jodhpurs were 'you go, girl! Werk!' moments!
Now for 'les pieces de resistance'….what Sydd lived for; one of the main reasons she dressed. They stood in the corner, and like the corset, they had a siren song all their own: five-inch, stilettoed, kid-leather, black thigh boots….Sydd wondered why she didn't just cum looking at them—well that would be a bit much, even for her…..
Certainly, she had cum getting into them….She remembered her first pair; how, sitting on the edge of the bed, in front of the mirror, she came, pulling them over her thighs….Her thighs clenched on her cock as she pulled on the second one; her cock, trapped between leather and nylon, just exploded. All of its own accord. A jet of cum leaped from the cock-slit and thudded heavily and thickly on the leather and slowly began its descent….She would remember that it could be worked into the boot—the sheen was nice….
She also came to understand the pleasure that others might have from coming on her boots—provided they cleaned them up, of course. And the pleasure she derived herself from the very same act….
Now, she was well beyond that kind of auto-cum, but her boots still excited her to no end….so much so, that she always had to wait a bit before she could finish dressing. This time was no different….
'Things' gradually subsided….at least to the point where she could tie on her codpiece….One last thing, before the black cape….The 'implements' were kept in an umbrella stand at one end of the walk-in….She knew exactly what met this 'occasion.' Not the cat, or the whip, which was purely ceremonial—she deftly pulled out the quirt—about a foot long, a braided handle with a loop, a narrow, limber shaft that ended in a small, flat leather 'tag.' She slid it into her right boot, outside, a finger's distance from the boot-cuff….
She grabbed the long, light, black, crepe cape, threw it round her shoulders. It was ample enough to drape like a gown at its hem and to afford enough fabric to serve as a cowl if she wished…..in it, she was totally discrete….
She called the doorman and asked for a cab…it wasn't far but she preferred not to drive….one more glance in the mirror—of course!....
'what to wear?'…..that had been settled….the question of dressing 'appropriately,' well, Sydd had decided that too…
Sydian/Who came at Dinner?/Ch 3 Bell-Ringer
Sydd found herself on the stoop of a very nice brownstone. The cabbie had been a regular; he recognized her immediately and accorded her the proper dignity and respect: 'Good evening, Ms. Black. Where to? Shall I wait, Ma'am? Would you like me to be available for your return?' Sydd absolutely loved it….a sense of familiarity—not to be confused with intimacy—that came with bearing and 'power.' Sydd had worked hard to cultivate the former; and equally hard to secure and nurture the latter…. 'Sure, Jimmy…though I may be a bit late—'girl's night,' you know….' 'No problem, Ms. Black; never a problem for you….' 'Tell you what, James, one way or another, I'll phone before one. O.K.?' 'Sure thing, Ms. Black….' She pressed the fare and a twenty into his palm as she stepped from the car. He tipped his cap as he pulled slowly from the curb….,
Sydd tapped the lit button and the bell was deep and sonorous. She imagined that it could be heard through the lengths and depths of the solid structure…. The door was a magnificent, old oak, double job—wide, sturdy and imposing; looking a bit too heavy for the sprite who opened it….
There she was again….that so, so straight, blue-black asymmetrical cut framing that gorgeous face….and the back-lighting streaming through the long, diaphanous white shift that clung to that sort-of-boy-like body—'sort of,' not quite….
'Hi,' like another bell; not quite as deep as the first, but resonant, lyrical, musical—the tinkle of fun…. 'Glad you could make it. I'm Sable,' as she graciously ushered Sydd inside.
The lighting was soft but not so soft as to obscure 'detail'….the shift was clinging—purposefully. Sable had deliberately sprayed herself with a soft sheen of oil…the shift had no choice but cling to the thumb-sized nipples of those hard-apple breasts, the firm globes of that tight ass—wedging itself and coming undone with each step; and then clinging in front, across the thighs, draping them as the fabric outlined the pronounced lips of her pussy and provided friction on an already distended clit, that grew larger with each softly, irritating step….
Roan stepped from the kitchen into the living room. 'Dressed appropriately.' Yet, how might this be described? Roan's spandex tube was as short as she was tall…made shorter because she was made taller yet in five-inch pumps….the tube was a burnt, pastel orange…the pumps matched. her fire-colored hair was swept round to the side and from the bare lobe a large copper hoop hung….As she crossed the flokati, Sydd noticed two things: this was truly a 'house-dress'—even Sydd wondered if she, herself, would have the nerve to wear one that short. And every step exposed a naked vulva and clit. Interestingly, Roan's entire sex looked at if it had been 'made up'—as if she had glossed those lips too. And then, there was the matching copper clit-ring—Sydd….a slave to fashion?…nawwwww…..
Roan walked over, kissed Sydd full for what seemed like eternity. The codpiece strained. When they broke, she simply said 'Welcome'…. She moved to the bar and the lower portion of her ass cheeks played hide-n-seek with her hem. Sable placed her hands on Sydd's shoulders. 'Let me take your wrap….'
***
The cape fell from Sydd's naked shoulders. This was an unveiling. They were in an 'art gallery,' so-to-speak, and Sydd was the 'objet'…. All eyes were on her—including her own. The mantle and fireplace were framed in a smoked mirror that ran from ceiling to floor….
The other two, it seemed, held their breath. Sydd—bad to the bone as always—kept the smirk internal…. 'Touché' was her silent reposte….from the corner of one eye she could see her outfit register on Roan's face—another 'O shit!-You-didn't,-Bitch,-did you?' look…. Sable's eyes were wide in the mirror, though Sydd could have been blind and Sable's reaction would have still registered. Subtly, and possibly quite unconsciously, Sable's long fingers had begun their play along the ridge of muscles that stretched from the neck to the shoulders. They fell, with the lowering of the wrap, to Sydd's naked shoulder blades….
Sydd was the first to break the silence. 'How nice….' To everything and to nothing at all…. 'Indeed,' Roan, muttered, her eyes locked on the codpiece. 'Very nice. Very nice, indeed….,' Sable caught herself….staring at the leather thong that saved Sydd' ass from the grace of being deemed naked….
Again, Roan saved the two roommates: 'Are you hungry?' still staring at Sydd's straining codpiece…. 'I mean for dinner….'
***
Sydian/ Who Came at Dinner/ Ch 4 Happy Meal
Roan led the way into the dining room. A relatively small round table, draped in white. A size and setting that spoke of intimacy….the sideboard was laid out, the wine was on the table, open and 'breathing'…. Sable trailed Sydd, her restraint wilting as her fingertips played over the haunch of Sydd's naked ass…. Sydd glanced back knowingly, flashed the 'killer' smile and sidled closer to Sable making her fingers slide from cheek to hip to the top of the boot. They came to rest on the tab of the crop. The slow-motion of Sydd's profile to Sable's and the eye-to-eye was unmistakable. If one hadn't known the players, it might have been thought that too-much-information had just been exchanged. But the subtlety of the moment wasn't lost on Sydd—after all, she had engineered it. Sydd registered two reactions on the part of Sable. The first was an o-so-faint stroking of the crop. The other, possibly fainter still, was the almost inaudible sound of moist fabric frictioning between thighs, more than likely, purposefully rasping the clit….
Roan joked…. 'Will we last til dessert?' 'Depends on who "dessert" is,' quipped Sydd…. 'Hmmmm…. At least "three courses" here,' Sable shot back…. 'Ladies…. All the trouble I went to for this table…at least nibble.' With that Roan directed them to the night's fare. The table setting was exquisite. The plates were oversized, aerated, copper discs, their green patina shellacked and then buffed to a high glaze. The water and wine goblets had the iridescent copper-greenish quality that made the beverages sparkle even more. They pointed Sydd to the buffet…. If the fare could ever be 'light and sumptuous' this was it. Without going into detail, Sable and Roan had planned a menu that had no possibility of dulling the senses. On the contrary, its intent was energy and stimulation, light and wit….in some circles it might even have been regarded as aphrodisiac….but here, only in regard to its play on the palate and sense of smell, and the notion that the 'chefs' were committed to other activities that precluded the bland and the heavy….
The two led Sydd to the sideboard…. As she held her plate in both hands, the two of them descended on her from either side. Full mouths, open and tongues darting, they both insinuated themselves. Their tongues wrestled to possess the back of Sydd's throat…. A momentary indiscretion…. They both apologized simultaneously—almost somewhat flustered and embarrassed—'school-girlish'…. Sydd was amused. 'Now that's a new way to "clean" a palate'….
***
At the table…. At this table was a tableau of incredible proportions. To any other eye, three astoundingly, incredibly beautiful women—in the parlance, 'stunning,' 'arresting.' The smells of the table were opulent without being heavy….they, however, lay upon a subtle, yet heavy scent of sex—an electric air of anticipation. The three sat at this table; plates and utensils at the ready; chairs incredibly close. A knee-grazing, shin and calf-caressing closeness….
They nibbled and chatted….the day; work; traffic; even weather and sports….veiling and unveiling language. The dinner course close to done, Roan was the first…. The small table placed a person to either side of the other—Sydd on Roan's left, Sable to her right…the setting replicated itself. Before talk of dessert, Roan 'helped' herself…. The move was too subtle…Sydd hardly noticed Sable's flinch, but she felt her knees graze her own as they parted and then slid forward…. Sable was 'accepting'…. Sydd tried not to raise her brow….then it became clear as Roan brought her hand from beneath the table and smoothed three fingers over her glossed lips and licked, and then sucked…. The hand disappeared once more; reappeared and the three fingers were offered to Sydd….between the two of them, Sable shuddered as Sydian sucked….
Obviously, the temperature was rising. Internally and externally….the room was filled with a new heat and humidity—an anticipated 'slickness' waited in the wings…. The 'internal' and 'external' were all the more obvious to Sydd. The heat inside her codpiece was magnified by the hot hand that now cupped it…. Not to be outdone, Sydd's hands played along the table skirt….deftly, fingers of left and right hands forked and then pincered swollen clits….the move had the intended effects: soundless 'O's and the beginning of the slickness that had been fore-warned….
Sydd was the first to rise from the table….she offered each of them the 'offending' digits….they each sucked greedily….she leaned left, then right, deeply kissing each….she then extended each a hand and led them from the table….
Sydian/Who Came at Dinner?/Ch 5 Taking Charge
Hands on wrists, like a tableau-vivant from a minuet, the three glided from the dining room to the living room. Sydd led them to the oversized sofa. She stopped before it and deftly pivoted on the five-inch stilettos. She held the two them in her gaze as she dropped her hands to her hips and just as deftly drew on the bow-strings of her codpiece. It fell away with the collective sighs of her two suitors; their eyes bright, their lips moist; their pussy lips moister….Sydd then dropped herself into the cushions of the sofa….and stared….
Roan's hand had already slid up her thigh; two fingers had gained entrance while the thumb strummed her clit. Sable shifted from side to side, rocking on her heels, thighs clenched, the rough, diaphanous material captured between them, softly scraping her clit. Her eyes, like Roan's, fixed on Sydd's cock—all that black in black leather jutting up from the white sofa. Her eyes wandered from Sydd's cock to the crop resting in Sydd's thigh boot…they would linger on the braided handle, then dance back to the thicker whip between Sydd's thighs. The flickerings of both sets of beautiful eyes had Sydd's full attention…. Her cock said so….
Sydd spoke. Soft. Low; in her full-throated huskiness…. 'So….' Her hand falling idly, yet deliberately, to the braid of the crop…. 'Who's been bad?' Sable started visibly; Roan made to retract her honey-glued fingers from the hot pot. Sydd pre-empted them both: 'I love bad…' she breathed. Fingers playing along the braid, 'It should never go unrewarded….'
'And if this morning's antics were any example, you ladies have quite a propensity for misbehavior….'the crop was being gently pumped in the shaft of the boot. 'Sable has quite clearly indicated her "reward."' Sable stammered, whipped the sharp, blue-black mane across her face with a violent toss of her head: 'I have?' 'Of course you have, my dear.' The crop making deeper, longer thrusts into the shaft of the boot, Sable's eyes fixed to it….
'The question is what should Roan receive?' Before Roan could answer Sydd addressed Sable: 'What do you think, Sable? What should it be?' This time, without any pretense of taking her eyes off the crop fucking Sydd's boot, Sable answer softly, 'She should be spanked, Mistress….'
'Hmmmmm…. Before we address the reason why, let's make something crystal clear.' Very softly—drawing their full attention: 'Never, never, refer to me as "Mistress."' Again their eyes widened. 'For me, it is a title I neither desire nor find useful. After all, what could be more dominant, more imperious, more dangerous, and therefore, MORE promising than my own formal name when spoken properly? Think about it…. When you wish to serve, simply address me as "Sydian"—"Syd-jian"….works wonders….Otherwise, "Sydd" does quite well….' The two realized that it was the first time they had heard her name. They had introduced themselves, but she had not, until this moment spoken hers….
'Now Sable, why?'…. Sable began to speak from the position of supplicant, eyes lowered…. 'Raise your eyes, woman!' softly, yet sharply…. 'Look at me when you speak to me…. I want to measure your full beauty when you're in my presence. Part of that beauty is your pride—even when you serve…. This applies to you as well,' she cut to Roan…. 'Am I clear?' The two nodded in unison, their eyes locked on Sydian…. 'And yes, you may,' Sydd said with a simple flourish that took in her entire body, 'with your eyes. Until, I instruct you otherwise.'
'Now why, Sable?'
'She has misbehaved Sydian,' Sable answered softly….
'But you have misbehaved with her, have you not?' There was a new formality here. The play was moving to another space. Roan knew her role quite well: silence for now….
Sable shifted. Again, softly, 'Yes, Mis—Sydian….' She quickly caught Sydd's eye, and approval…. 'And what was her most recent infraction; the most severe? For what is she to be "rewarded"? Quickly, but in detail….'
'This evening, before you arrived, Sydian; as we dressed, she took me….' The language had fallen into the formal rituality of the role-play….
'"Took" you? Don't toy, Sable,' again, the interchange was soft yet sharp. 'Do you mean she fucked you?'
Sable nodded. 'No non-verbals, Sable. When you are spoken to, you will speak.'
'Yes,' softly.
'"Yes' what, Sable?'….
'Yes, she fucked me, Sydian….'
'How?....With what?' What was now only too obvious was the heavy, thick sexual air that encased the entire room. Clearly, the evening had begun with a high level of sexual anticipation. Now, that anticipation was manifesting itself. At the level of her crotch, Sable's gown was soaked. Roan, hands at her sides, exposed a slick, heavy sheen coating her inner thighs. It was being supplemented with each word and act as a hot liqueur eased through her pussy lips. And Sydd. Sydd's cock was outrageous. In all this time she had not touched it; it had not been touched. But it reared and strained to every word, implication, and subtle shift among the three of them…physical or otherwise…. From the vantage of Roan and Sable, it had become thicker and longer. It defied the morning's recollections…. And like both their pussies, it too, oozed copiously, rising from Sydd's thighs like the black monument to sex it was….
'How, and with what?' Sydd repeated.
'She fucked me with the strap-on….'
'O…. I see….' Now, it was Sydd's turn to shift in her seat. Her balls seemed to tighten. Her cock strained a bit more…. '"The strap-on"…..?
'And this is something special, Sable? There is more than one "strap-on?"'
Sable brightened. 'Yes, Sydian. We have more than one. And this one is quite special….'
'Quite. "Quite special." What makes it so, Sable?'
'Depending on which of us is to be the aggressor, that one has to insert the strap-on up her pussy first….'
Sydd's expression was quizzical. 'And that makes it "special?" Sounds like a two-headed dildo to me….'
'O no, Sydian! It's much more than that! Both ends of the strap-on are angled. When the "doer" inserts her end and straps up, the exposed end stands up like the best cock imaginable….because it has the proper angles the fuck is incredible…. It's…it's almost anatomically correct!' Sable had become animated and very much enthused in her description….
'So, I take it you enjoyed Roan's fucking?'
'It was incredible!'
'Hmmmmm…. I'll have to see this toy and…possibly experience it….'
'So….it was "incredible"….you thoroughly enjoyed Roan fucking you….and yet, you say she should be rewarded with a spanking for performing so admirably?' Sydd was querulous.
Nodding enthusiastically, Sable gushed, 'Yes!'
***
The crop slid from the boot. Two sets of eyes followed a slow, soft arc. Without a sound, it came to rest on Roan's inner thigh. It glided a bit then came to rest as the slick became viscous. Sable winced. Roan did not move until with the faintest of pressure Sydd parted her thighs with the crop.
Roan's movement was slight. The crop urged her thighs wider apart, and wider still. The already, too short, too tight dress was well above her hips now….her sex was exposed and open….what was very hot was bathed in the air of a cool spring evening….
The crop was still adhered to her thigh….
Sydian/Who Came at Dinner?/Ch 6 A Drubbing of Sorts
"Thwack!" The report was sharp, loud—comparatively so—and accurate. Has Sydd been described as "deft?" Here was further proof. The wrist flick was imperceptible. The effect was "devastating"…. Roan's cry was short and pitched; followed by long deep moan as her knees buckled and the honey simply cascaded from her cunt-mouth….
"Deft"…. Sydd's stroke had hit the mark exactly…expertly…. The flat of the crop slapped Roan's clit—one, single stroke…. And Roan came all over herself….and the crop….
In tandem, Sable came too; but maintained her composure….
***
Roan was on all fours, facing Sydd. Her eyes bright; her forehead beaded with fine sweat. Sydd drew the crop back; examined it at arm's length. It was sloppy with Roan's cream. Equally deft; equally subtle, the crop arced again, slowly….stopping just millimeters from Sable's perfect lips….
Instinctively…intuitively…without thought…those lips parted and the pink of tongue protruded to sample the delicacy that clung to the crop. 'Wider,' Sydd whispered. 'Take it just the way you took the cock earlier….Suck Roan's cum now as you did then…. You did suck it, didn't you?' Her mouth full of crop and cream, Sable nodded vigorously. 'Then show her that she is worthy'….
Roan gazed at Sydd, slid a sidewise glance at her partner, sucking hard on the crop, attempting to vacuum the essence of her nectar from it. She shuddered again, crossing her knees behind her in an attempt to lock in her orgasm; to intensify it and not let it escape….
Sydd's eyes were bright too as she fucked the crop in and out of Sable's greedy mouth. One last, gentle thrust; a slap on the tongue…the crop arced again. The power was witnessed this time in the snap on Roan's firm ass…. Enough to send her forward; to place her between Sydd's thighs—mouth-level with the head of that big, beautiful black cock….
Another flick…another snap…. Roan was forced into Sydd's crotch…. In a spontaneous reaction, Sydd's cock slapped the cheeks of Roan's beautiful face, then stood there…hard….waiting….
***
Roan nestled Sydd's cock between her cheek and the hollow of her shoulder. Her head inclined to caress it…. She moved to grasp it…. 'No hands, Boo….,' Sydd breathed as her cock broke free of the shoulder-cheek hold, grazed the tip of Roan's nose, left a trail of pre-cum on her upper lip before coming to rest on her full, bottom lip….
'Yes….You may," Sydd breathed….Roan parted her lips, let her tongue gloss them searching for the pearls of pre-cum. The bottom of her tongue-stud glancing the top of the head of Sydd's cock. 'Hmmmmm," Sydd mused, 'this is new?' A motion to Sable; her lips part and reveal a stud as well…
Roan is impatient. What began as parted lips now became a predator's maw. Wide, open, wet, and glistening; inviting its prey. Sydd might have been caught unawares. The heat was molten as Roan engulfed her cock. For the moment, Sydd decided not to resist. She simply allowed Roan control; allowed her head to bob and circle; to let that serpentine tongue twist round that thick snake of a cock. She simply allowed herself to enjoy Roan's efforts—her immense and energetic efforts….
Roan 'hoovered' the thick hard slab in her mouth. She tongue-lashed it. And in the lashing she made every effort to take it all—all of that hard, hard column of flesh—11+ inches….The angle was simply wrong, but her efforts prompted the right response: the involuntary. Sydd's hips began to rise and fall as Roan's mouth commanded. She began to pump back into that beautiful mouth in the cadence those lush lips directed….
For the moment….
***
Sydd crooked a finger at Sable who had been shifting from side to side, chafing her clit with the gauze trapped between her thighs. One knee on the sofa, facing Sydd, they opened their mouths, each accepting a hot, eager, forceful tongue…. Sydd's hand found its way between Sable's thighs. Not bothering to part the fabric, three fingers eased the stiff, juice-soaked fabric up between the thick, slick pussy lips and deep into Sable's cunt….there she worked them as the kiss became hotter, harder, more ardent…. The palpable sexual atmosphere of the room now had an equally tactile, equally sensuous soundtrack….. mouths were literally full, but moans slurried pass the sweet fruits blocking their lips—locked in their lips….
Sydd leaned forward slightly, gently placing her hand on the nape of Roan's neck and pulling her lips an inch or two further down the shaft of her thick, beautiful cock…. Roan gagged slightly but was more than accepting…. Sable's eyes had slid to her partner's exertions on that big, pretty piece of meat; she rotated and plunged her hips even deeper on the friction of cloth and fingers…. Sydd sighed….pushed her cock deeper into Roan's greedy mouth….Sable sucked on the air expelled from that sweet mouth….
***
Preliminaries…. Foreplay…. Foreplay's foreplay…. The angle wasn't right…. Sydd knew it; Roan knew it…. Sable had a sense of it…. Abruptly, dramatically, Sydd disengaged, pulled her cock from Roan's mouth. It slapped against full, spit-lacquered lips and slid across a cheek…. Sable made a move for it but Sydd held her fast sucking harder on that tongue and gripping her pussy from the inside out—three-fingers on the inside, thumb pressing the clit….the little finger had made entrance into the butt-hole….the immobilization said, 'No, no, little Missy….not yet, Bitch….' From the corner of her eye Sydd caught Roan with a glance that forced her to lower a hand she had raised to re-capture her prize….
Sydd's cock was nastily beautiful: full, distended, powerfully hard….coated with Roan's lipstick, then slicked and foamed with spittle….it looked as if she had been fucking—and indeed she had—Roan's mouth….
She gently pushed Sable away….as fingers and cloth were dragged with a slick friction from her cunt she shuddered and jerked and fell back into the cushions….her lips parted with a slightly anguished cry and a whispered 'Fuck….oh Fuck!' as she slowly scissored her legs…. Her eyes were slightly glazed as she fixed her appreciation on Sydd….
Sydd stood, offered Roan her hand as both Roan and Sable stared at that bobbing cock like gluttons…..Sydd led Roan to the chaise end of the sofa. She guided her so that her head hung over the edge. She propped it with pillows to just the right height and angle leaving just enough room at the edge of the sofa to brace her knees….
Now she addressed Roan for the first time after what seemed an eternity…. Softly: 'So Babi,'—Roan upside-down, lips pursed to receive the thick fruit—'were you bad, today?' Roan made to gesture, remembered Sydd's orders to Sable, and spoke: 'Yes, Sydian,' she expelled…. 'Very bad?' 'Very bad, Sydian….' 'How bad, Roan?....' 'So bad Sydian that she cried for you….' 'Cried for me?' 'Yes, Sydian'—more breathy—caught between a sigh and a gasp…. 'For me? Why on earth for me? The crop was sliding up the shaft of the boot…. Sable caught sight and began to leak furiously….
'Because I told her too, Sydian….just as she had instructed me, earlier….' 'Hmmmm….' The glance was sidewise and cat-like in Sable's direction—head canted to one side; an ear would have flicked if it could have…. Sable felt the heat rise along her dark body as the look registered…. 'So Sable has done her own mischief as well?' 'O yes, Sydian!' came eagerly if upside-down…. 'Hmmmm….'as the crop came down between legs splayed wide over the back of the sofa…. 'Thwack…. Thwack…. Thwack….' Deftly, not maliciously; lightly flicking the clit, parting the puffy lips of Roan's cunt repeatedly with each strike….causing her ass to buck until her orgasms matched the rhythm of the crop's flicking….
Sable came again, at the sight…the real 'whip' just out of reach…
Sydian/Who Came at Dinner?/Ch 7 The 'Real' Whip
Roan sobbed….the orgasms came like a flood—floods—over and again. In waves, beaching on her clit then eddying to the well of her pussy…. Sable was all hands in pussy…. Sydd let her be….
She watched the two, allowed them to regain some composure…. This time, Roan was the first to speak. 'Thank you, Sydian,' she sighed. Sydd nodded. Sable, simply beamed her appreciation….
'Are you ready to serve me now?'
***
The answer to the question was the wide oval of Roan's upside-down mouth; lips parted and frothy with spittle—so much so that anyone just happening on the scene would have supposed that it was cum that coated those perfect lips—not yet….
The angle was right. Sydd simply leaned forward. The length and girth of her cock parted a paradise and slid, almost completely to bottom of Roan's throat…. Roan gagged slightly , and then almost tauntingly forced her tongue up and out of her mouth and along Sydd's thick shaft. The move was accompanied by a foam of spit and pre-cum….Sable's eyes went wide. Even for her, Roan's efforts were nothing short of amazing….
Sydd grunted as her cock bottomed in the hot velvet of Roan's throat. Her approval a hoarse moan: 'Mmmmmm….Babi….Babi….Babi….' Then the rhythm began in earnest. A slow, smooth throat fucking; her balls alternately resting on or gently slapping Roan's nose….
Sable was at wit's end. She watched the huge cock pistoning in and out of her lover's mouth. Her only recourse her fingers—four of which now stretched her cunt. She watched Sydd's muscular ass propel cock down Roan's throat, Sydd's eyes slitted in pleasure; Roan's hips slowly, involuntarily humping air…her fingers interlaced with Sydd's….the elastic of the give and take in their arms….Sydd's lips parted in pleasure—Sable wanted those as well….
Wit's end….not for Sydd….Sydd would never neglect either of her charges. Her eyes fluttered open….connected with Sable's….the subtlety of motion drew Sable between Roan's thighs, her own ass facing Sydd….
Roan tried to scream as the electric of Sable's tongue made contact and then her lips grasped and tugged on that clit…. She tried to scream but her throat was full….she gagged again. The backwash of sex liquor—its cream—came up through the corners of her mouth, recoating Sydd's cock….smoothing its next thrust….forcing those hips to rise to that mouth, insinuating that tongue deeper into that honey….
Sydd loosed Roan's fingers and spread the cheeks of Sable's ass…. She took the first of two prizes…. Her tongue was electric too….Sable jumped, pushed her face deeper into Roan's pussy. Then, almost simultaneously thrust back on Sydd's tongue….her moan was loud and long, muffled by the other lips she kissed…..
Freed, Roan's hands wandered up the back of Sydd's thighs to cup her ass…. She began to control Sydd's thrusts down her throat. Spreading the cheeks of Sydd's ass, Roan inserted a digit from each hand…. Now it was Sydd's turn to thrash and moan….
***
The three continued like this for what seemed a lifetime. Sydd's hand had returned to the boot….out glided a Magnum—the foil conveniently slit sometime before these proceedings….She placed it in Roan's hand. Roan never missed a beat....unwrapped and unrolled the latex, Sydd's cock still in her mouth, Sydd's tongue now buried in Sable's asshole…. In a move as smooth as any that evening, Roan slid the condom over Sydd's cock, then slid the cock back down her throat to coat and slick it…. Sable was none the wiser….
None the wiser when Sydd took what she wanted…. She mounted the chaise behind the little one, and then mounted her….penetration was sharp and swift; lightening and immensely pleasurable…. This time Sable's head snapped up from Roan's pussy….This time she bellowed—she roared: 'OOOOOOOO…..SHIT!!!!!......OOOOOO! SHIT! SHIT! SYDD! SYDD! BABI! IT'S SOOO GOOD! SOOO GOOD!.....Mmmmmmm…..fuck me, Mami….fuck this little bitch…. Make me your bitch….Please, Sydd, please…..please….' the moans trailed off into sobs as she came on the end of each thrust, as Sydd tried to get deeper than the one that preceded…
The goodness of their exertions oozed from Sable's cunt…. Roan couldn't resist. She raised her head and brought her mouth as close as possible to catch the honey and cream mixture Sydd had churned up…. With a little stretching and straining she nipped Sable's clit. Sable's cunt still full of Sydd's cock, she exploded…one last time….
***
Sable rolled from Sydd's still hard, strong cock and splayed languidly on the sofa…. Sydd stepped from above Roan and sat between the two of them, her cock still menacing, wet with Sable….
Roan righted herself. Sydd spoke, looking at her cock. 'I'm not done yet….' She fixed he gaze on Roan…. 'Come get what you want….'
Roan rose, faced Sydd and then straddled her…. 'You may handle me, now….' It was almost abandonment…. Roan gripped the ebony tightly, as if touching it, feeling it in her hands, was something she had longed for all night. She rubbed the thick head between the lips of her pussy, forcing contact with her clit over and over again….jolting booth of them…
Then tightening the muscles of her cunt, she forced that thick, strong meat through her swollen, sensitive pussy lips…. The two of them groaned in unison, sealed their chorus with a searing kiss….
Sydd's hips arced deep and high into Roan's pussy…. The act was the culmination-or close to it—of all the imagining and role play Sable and Roan had mounted up to that point…. Their lips parted to Roan's 'O! O! Ooooooooo! Give it to me! Give it to me, Bitch! Give me all that big, pretty, black cock, Babi!'
'Ride me, Bitch! Ride me!' was Sydd response as she climbed deeper and higher into Roan's sweet hole. She grabbed Roan's hips, leveraged her, pushing her down further on all that cock….Roan gasped, cried: 'I m gonna cum….I'm gonna cum……please…..Puleeeeeze! Don't make me cum alone! Cum with me Sydd! Cum with me! Cum with meeeee!'
Teeth clinched, Sydd hissed, 'Yessssss, Bitch…. Yesssss, sweet, sweet Bitch….' Roan could feel Sydd thicken and lengthen and she abandoned herself in a wail…her cum cascading the length of Sydd's cock….Sydd had seized Sable's hand and pulled her between her thighs…. The instant of Roan's climax, and the instant before her own she jerked herself from a hot cunt to a hot mouth….the condom still lodged in Roan's pussy….Sydd's cock lodged in Sable's nasty, greedy pumping mouth…. Cum spewing, scalding the back of Sable's throat, filling her mouth…leaking over pretty lips….
Sydd pulled Sable up to the two of them…forced her to share a deep kiss and the cream of their passions….a kiss sealing a friendship that would last the years…
*********************************************
© 2004 by Sydian. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.