Inspiration comes from funny places.
They make me wear a dress, no underwear. A strappy, summery thing, floral, flippy, far too short and far too tight. My breasts barely contained. When I stand before them for examination, he roughly bares them, threatening the straps which are thin and unstable.
I serve drinks, set plates of tiny cakes and biscuits on the coffee table, then I am to sit in the corner until summoned, if summoned at all. They chat, and drink. After half an hour I am told to turn so I am facing them but to keep my eyes closed. I hear someone approach – the footsteps are light, bare feet on carpet. She giggles and I feel the icy chill of something dripping down from my shoulder and over my nipple, followed by the warmth of her tongue and her teeth painfully around it.
“Stupid.” She says in a light, loving way. When it comes, the slap only hurts for seconds before the warm glow makes me shiver excitedly.
They’re talking about travel, about vineyards and airports and jetlag. I like to listen, learning about their busy lives, so much more enriching and important than mine. I think I catch the unbuttoning of his flies, but that can only be wishful thinking. I think I am making a puddle on my chair and squirm a little into the wooden surface.
“Come here.” He calls, much later. Minutes. Hours. Seconds. I kneel at his feet, aware of his cock in my peripheral vision but also that I mustn’t look at it until I am told I may. They are all looking at me.
He strokes my hair and smiles at me, indulgent because I am stupid and pathetic and desperate. He traces the outline of my face, the tip of my nose, my cheek. His slap is gentler, and he holds the flesh under his palm, using it to shove me down onto his erection, knowing I will splutter, fighting for air against the slab of meat pushing deeper into my throat and making my inner thighs damper and damper.
I breathe defiantly through my nose, urging my body to capitulate to him as he grabs a fistful of my hair and carries on describing the vintage of champagne they served at his wedding.
When I eventually pull back, with red, tear-filled eyes and drooling mouth and trying so hard not to express my utter happiness, it is not him who whips out their phone to snap photographs of my smeared makeup and glassy eyes.
“I think we should inspect her again.” She glances briefly in my direction. “Stand up.”
She’s shorter than I am but I know she could floor me if she wanted to. She circles me, lifting up my skirt and reaching under it and when it’s clear how wet I am, withdraws her hand and makes me lick it clean.
“You’re disgusting. We haven’t even finished with you yet. Look at me.”
Her eyes are brown and beautiful. She slaps me again, harder, making my cheek flush crimson. I watch her walk back to the sofa and curl up next to him. He has watched the display with delight, stroking himself. He kisses her and my wet cunt aches as he points at the spot between his feet.
Back on my knees where I belong, before I can take him in my mouth again, he instructs me to spit into his palm. I know what’s coming. I’m tremendously excited as saliva and precum pools in his hand. Forever smiling he wipes the mess over my flushed features, using his thumb to lever my mouth open again and violate it. I am just a worthless hole to be fucked. A series of holes to be used.
She contorts herself on the sofa, a mass of agile limbs and gentle curves until she’s lying on her front, her face so close to mine I can smell his aftershave on her neck. She rests her chin on her hands and watches his cock piston in and out of my mouth, her smile broadening when I choke.
She strokes my hair, before taking up a handful and pulling it sharply, jerking me back and forth, spluttering as his cock pushes relentlessly deeper into my throat and I swallow it down, finding it hard to remember to breathe through my nose. If I looked up I would see his hand snaking down over her curvaceous backside, squeezing her flesh in admiration.
With a final yank she lets me go, and I collapse back on my heels, my vision blurry, only focussing again as the first splashes of cum hit my cheek and neck, and finally my bared breasts. She is cleaning him as he reclines with the look of utter smugness across his glorious face.
“Corner.” he says to the ceiling.
I think I might fall over, once sat I grip the underside of the chair with both hands to keep myself upright, my heart racing and my mouth sore. My cunt feels as if I have been pounded relentlessly for the past ten minutes. The blank white walls of the sitting room are soothing. I close my eyes.
I can hear them making out, the wet hungry swell of kissing and groping. The high pitched mews she makes are another thing that makes me shuffle on my seat.
“More wine.” She calls, giggling.
I shuffle weakly to the fridge – when I return, she is calmly sat – naked – and I suffer two awkward minutes with the stopper until it is taken from me. He pours their glasses himself and once again I am instructed to kneel.
“Careful, you have to make sure it doesn’t stain the sofa.” she says sweetly, spreading her thighs and positioning the bottle over her abdomen. We three watch as an icy rivulet of wine begins to travel down over her stomach, towards the point of no return and I willingly bury my face between her legs where all is soft and sweet and delectable. I want to make her come.
Above my head she giggles again and again and again and again and he’s biting her neck and growling into her ear. He’s growing harder again and I’m trying to make her come and she’s so very wet, I’m grabbing her thighs, sucking her clit, she’s yelping and writhing and grabbing my head the way he did before. I don’t notice him moving, standing behind me, wiping his cock up and down my chubby, wet cunt and slipping the length inside me until his stomach hits the wide expanse of my arse.
“You don’t deserve to be filled with cum. You don’t deserve to be fucked by this cock.” his thrusts are almost painful as she squeals before me. He digs his fingers into my waist, pinning me in place.
“She’s a stupid fat little cum dump.”
I hear her moan as I bite her inner thighs and concentrate my tongue at the apex of her clit, feeling her tense. She begins to buck her hips against my face, grinding her cunt against my mouth and I can barely breathe but just knowing I’ve brought her this far is all the reward I need as her body tenses and she moans so loudly I fear the neighbours will turn up and spoil things.
She pushes me away from her just as he pulls out of my cunt, splattering his load over my arse and thighs.
There is nothing but the sound of heavy breathing. I feel serene, a perfect vessel of nothingness. I might have been placed there, on my hands and knees for all eternity and not have minded.
She is kneeling in front of me, her hands gently cupping my face.
“You are perfect.” she whispers, kissing my forehead. “But you need a wash.”
“I concur.” He agrees, heading for the bathroom. “A bubble bath for this little fucktoy, I think. A nice hot bath and then a Chinese takeaway.”
“And maybe half an hour with something that buzzes. I think you’ve earnt it.”
I rest my head in her lap and sink into further contentment.