Special Delivery

Don Julian Winslow

Who hasn’t waited for that one very special package to arrive; to eagerly unwrap the prized, most desired gift with trembling fingers?

Max felt a tingle of anticipation as he once again admired those striking good looks -- that warm, mature, womanly beauty of his visitor. An elegant hand waved in the air, fluttered to brush off some casual remark. Fredrika was in no particular hurry to get on with the business that had brought them together. He was fascinated by the way she moved, the easy grace of the ex-model as she settled back, deliberately placing the coffee cup on the table between them, then easing back into the leather cushion; painted lips curling up with a gracious smile -- just for him. She was one of those women whose easy charm could make a man feel that he was the only man in the world.

He approved of the way she so nonchalantly crossed those long shapely legs, knowing he was watching; her devastating eyes never left his face all the while. The jacket of the trim business suit fell open just a little in front; the skirt riding up a few inches as she shifted in her seat. Her easy smile never faltered, as though she were unaware that that rising curtain had uncovered several inches of lushly-curved nyloned thigh. That sliver of newly-exposed thigh now filled him with longing, enticing his tingling fingertips to sample what his eyes so terribly desired -- to slide along the length of that leg, feeling its slick smooth contour.

There was no doubt the casual gesture was meant to be provocative, yet his guest managed to carry it off with supreme indifference. He found himself captivated by those lovely legs, falling in love with them -- all over again. Max loved those legs and the exquisite beauty to whom they belonged, but, alas, he knew that love could never be. For by now Max knew that Fredrika’s preferences most decidedly ran towards her own sex: choice young girls and the most exquisite women, models and actresses passed through those elegant hands in an endless parade.

“Fredrika, how kind of you to come. But you needn’t have personally made that long tiring trip all the way from Paris. Surely Hector could have seen to the delivery?”

“ But Max, darling, It was no bother at all. I would be remiss if I didn’t give valued clients like you my personal attention. Besides, the trains are really quite comfortable, these days; we had reserved our own private day coach, of course. And I had Hector tag along. He’s really such a treasure. Then too we had the girl with us in our cabin. She proved to be an amusing diversion to wile away the hours. All in all, not what one would call an unpleasant trip.”

“Amusing diversion? You have piqued my curiosity, Madam.”

Fredrika’s knowing smile widened, her gleaming lips turning up ever so slightly.

“Yes, well the girl was there; you could say we brought our own entertainment.”

“Tell me more?”

His guest shifted forward, eyes sparkling with interest. “It was a hot June day. We were rolling through the countryside; it was warm and stuffy in the car. Our coach had sealed windows. Really such an annoyance! We had to draw the blinds to keep out the afternoon sun. The cars on the Blue Train are not air-conditioned, as you know. It got warmer as the day wore on. You know how it is on train trips: the monotonous click of the wheels, the swaying coach, the afternoon heat; it all lulls one into a kind of lethargy. Soon we were both hopelessly bored. I put down my magazine, looked at my watch, and stretched; Hector looked up at me with that inquisitive look he has; he’s such a pet, sooo sensitive to my every mood.

‘Hector darling, I’m bored. What are we to do?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Ah Fredrika my pet, but you are so easily bored. Hummm….what shall we do with you…what shall we do? How does one amuse a bored princess? “Yesss...I believe I’ve got it! What our princess needs is a toy..some pretty bauble to play with. I know! We will call on our new serving wench to provide us with a bit of diversion.’ We laughed.

Hector can always make me laugh. He’s really such a delight. You just never know what sort of things he’ll come up with. In any event, he straightened right up and addressed our pretty traveling companion, telling her quite bluntly that she was to expose herself as we wished to see her cunt. The man is invaluable you know.

Of course the girl said nothing. I don’t know what went through her mind, but she knew better than to do more than just sit there and wait to be told what was required of her, all the while keeping her pretty blond head lowered nicely, eyes on the floor of the coach. By now this particular girl, Astrid, has been with us for several weeks; of course she had taken her in hand, trained her as necessary; by now the girl was willing to serve, and sweetly submissive. Indeed, had she not been properly-trained we would never have offered her to someone with your demanding tastes.

Now you can understand that, at the start, we had see to it that the young woman was dressed in respectable if rather dull clothes; a plain traveling suit of dark brown hid her charms as we boarded the train. But now, with the door to our private car closed and locked, and the blinds pulled down, we felt secure enough that a bit of display might be called for.

Hector and I were seated directly across from Astrid. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with her when you meet her. She was, after all, selected according to your specifications: a tall slender girl, long-legged and small-breasted, and with one of those blond Scandinavian faces you seem to prefer. You know Max, by now, I have come to know your tastes in women quite well.

Anyway, I sat back to enjoy the show as Hector told Astrid to take off her shoes, those ugly ‘sensible’ shoes she had on for traveling. Then he had her lift herself up off the seat so she could pull her skirt out from beneath her, and raise the hem up her legs. We watched the skirt inch upward uncovering her slim legs in a charming pair of black cotton stockings. But naturally Hector made it perfectly clear it was not her pretty legs we were interested in. He had her reach up under the skirt, slip her panties down, and promptly hand them over. Now, without her underwear, the girl was made to hike the skirt all the way back up till it was around her waist, plunk her bare bottom on the padded leather seat, ease back, lift her stockinged feet, and then plant her heels on the front edge of the cushion. Once she was in that pose, he instructed the girl to open her folded knees, revealing to us that lightly-furred blond crotch of hers.

And as we rode mile after mile along those monotonous rails, we were treated to the view of that darling little pussy of hers displayed for us like some brazen whore’s. Astrid sat in silence, her blond features set in stoic resolve, avoiding our eyes, although I do believe she secretly enjoyed every minute of being thus exposed. We could tell she was getting wet, sitting there lie that. The girl’s a born exhibitionist, as I’m sure you will find! Anyway, there she sat -- showing herself to us as we paged through our magazines and made a few passing comments about the weather. I believe it was good practice for her.

In time I went back to reading my book, Hector his newspaper, paying little attention to the erotic tableau spread out before us. At one point, as the train crept slowly through some country village, Hector threatened to roll the blinds up and let the passengers waiting on the platform have a good look at our little exhibitionist. It was then that the usually indifferent girl showed genuine alarm, sitting back and staring in disbelief. Hector took one look at her wide eyes and laughed. He was, of course, only joking.

But as we rode on, it became increasingly clear that Hector was not quite satisfied with these arrangements. He really is quite insatiable you know. And so Astrid was made to place a hand on her splayed crotch; at his urging she began to engage in self-manipulation. It was most entertaining to watch the poor darling being made to pleasure herself, following detailed instructions, palming her mound, and toying with her wet labia, finally finger-fucking herself for our amusement. I can tell you Max, it was all quite delightful and terribly, terribly erotic: to see that girl writhing on that seat, working herself up like that. And she was obliged to bring herself off...not once but three times! It was fascinating to watch her blond face arching back, eyes closed tight, those crisp features contorted in lust, that lovely body of hers twisting and squirming on the seat in rising heat, even the quiet little moans, like a hurt puppy, as she slid two fingers up her cunt, and vigorously fucked herself while we watched.

In this way she was to drive herself to orgasm. And then again! And finally, a third time! Hector was merciless on the poor girl. I must admit hers was a thoroughly captivating performance.

It didn’t take long till I too was powerfully aroused by the steamy show, and I had one hand jammed down the front of my skirt. I can tell you I soon climaxed myself, hard and fast, and my own panties were sopping wet by the time the train pulled into D’Arcy Station. Hector, of course, seemed detached as usual, merely amused by all this female heat.

I was drained and not much use as the train jerked to a halt; Astrid was flushed; mouth open, panting like racehorse. But the ever-competent Hector took charge to set things right. Astrid was made to use her wadded panties to sop up her juices from the slick leather seat, and then obliged to stand up and put the soaked panties back on. He had her pull them into place and turn around to show us, before allowing her to drop her skirt back into place, and set right her clothes for our departure. We were again a properly dressed traveling party of three as we alighted from the train in D’Arcy Station.

And there of course was your car. It was thoughtful of you to send the Rolls to meet us. That dreamy chauffeur of yours even stepped around behind to open the boot, and politely invite Astrid to climb in. He no doubt remembered our last delivery.

But I told him that would not be necessary this time, as the young lady was to be allowed to travel in the back seat between the two of us. By now of course, I was seeking even more satisfaction, and longed to get my hands on that juicy piece, eager to sample a bit of that delicious honey pot that was practically drooling, offered to me during our train trip. I needed one more time, before taking my leave of our lovely girl for an entire week.”

By now Max had become perfectly still in his chair, his eyes on his amazing guest, totally entranced by Fredrikas’s hot story. He felt the rising heat, a dampness on his brow, and as he shifted uneasily in his seat, there was a definite stirring in his pants. His hardened penis was demanding release. His palms were moist, and he worked his hands as he managed to get out in a voice suddenly dry and cracked. “And Astrid? Where’s the girl now?”

Frederika waved a casual hand. “Oh, I had her taken in through the service entrance. Hector will see to it that she changes and makes herself properly presentable before we bring her in. Shall I go fetch her now?”

Max, who was doing all he could to mask his simmering impatience, smiled weakly and managed to nod, not totally trusting his dry-mouthed voice.

It was a long agonizing few minutes, which Max spent reaching down to ease his stiffening penis from its tangle of underwear. The study door opened, and his favorite Madam breezed in. A few steps behind, her trusted majordomo, Hector, walked with a leash wrapped around one hand he held at his shoulder. At the other end of that leash strode a tall and stately blonde, her proud head held high, eyes on some distant horizon.

She was naked but for a black cape thrown over her shoulders -- a full length cape that hung to her ankles, loosely tied at the very top and allowed to fall open all the way down the front so that with each step she took in her high heels the wrapper parted exposing her long sleek body and a splendid pair of tall legs, all sheathed in shimmering black nylons.

As she was brought before him, and Hector stepped to one side; Max was struck speechless. He could only stare. The woman was superb! She had the high delicate cheekbones that told of her Danish ancestry. Her close-cropped hair was kept neatly trimmed, sheared long the sides and the back of the head to present a fresh-cut slightly boyish appearance; an effect enhanced by the blonde’s straight, almost hipless body. His hungry eyes traveled up those long tapering lines of her legs, the delectable thighs with the softly mounded pubis tucked between them, his eyes drawn to the hazy shading of pale pubic curls. He visually caressed the small breasts, delicate and floppy, only half exposed by the folds of the gown. But it wasn't just the tall blonde’s undeniable beauty that held Max's attention -- it was her poise, the way she moved with the precision and effortless grace of a fashion model striding down the runway.

The Madam nodded to her assistant who undid the robe’s single tie and slipped the draping folds from the slim shoulders leaving the young woman nude except for her shoes and stockings and the high collar that banded her neck to which the leash had been attached.

There was a long silence during which nobody moved. Then it was Frederika who came up behind her gaping host, bringing her lips close to his ear to whisper in a low sultry voice: “I trust our Astrid meets with your approval?”

“Oh yes…the valued client answered in awed voice, never taking his eyes off the stunning creature who stood there before him, just a few feet away, yet seemingly so far, wrapped as she was in her own remote beauty.

***

The imperious Madam, standing just behind her awe-struck client, allowed herself a knowing grin. Frederika knew men. She especially knew this one, and so she knew that by this one visit she had gained a client for life, one who would beg for one of her girls…one who would be willing to pay whatever she asked. It was so much more enjoyable to be able to deal with collectors like Max, she thought smugly -- those for whom money was no object.

Now she moved to take charge. She was looking directly at the tall blonde as she spoke, although she addressed her words to her client. “Sir Max, allow me to present our Astrid to you.”

She took a step closer to the perfectly still nude model. And then, in a voice of quiet authority: “Astrid, ‘Present’ for your new Master.”

As the three of them watched, the stately blonde moved to obey. Holding herself perfectly erect, she lowered herself to her knees, then settled back on her heels, back held straight, hands on her thighs, palms up. She lowered her blond head submissively to indicate her willingness to obey. To see this beautiful girl on her knees before him, to realize he could fully dominate her; it was an intoxicating moment. This was the first pose taught to all Frederika’s girls; the pose they would learn to automatically adopt when being presented to a new Master, or a Mistress.

“Astrid is now yours, Sir Max. We place her in your hands under our usual terms. For one full week, she is all yours. She will do whatever is asked of her, without hesitation; obey any and all orders she is given.

You may use this girl in any way you see fit: Exhibition, Humiliation, Bondage and Discipline to be applied whenever and however you desire (she rather favors the riding crop; although she has occasionally known the whip). Of course, we quite naturally can allow no serious pain or harm to come to the girl. With that one proviso however, you may use her to your heart’s content.

She will attend to you as your personal servant in your study, your bedroom, or the bath; as your housemaid on hands and knees in the kitchen; or as a sex slave to be chained and kept naked at all times, taken out only to be played with, whenever you so choose. She will eagerly pleasure you with her body, her face, her lips and tongue, fingers and hands, and any or all of the female body’s three openings. And at your command, she will gladly service any friends or acquaintances, male or female, whom you may invite in to use her. All is to be allowed, nothing forbidden.

You see before you, Sir, your new love slave in the ‘Presentation’ pose, one of the five mandated positions she has been trained to assume and hold at your command. If you’ll allow me, I will now demonstrate the others:

Astrid, stand at ‘Attention’.” The kneeling woman got to her feet and stood erect, then raised her arms to lay her hands on the top of her head with fingers interwoven. She stood with shoulders pulled back, chest thrust out, modest little tits on proud display. Her head was held high, pale blue eyes locked on some distant spot, straight ahead.

Max moved closer, close enough to touch that placid her, his face only inches from hers, studying the still blonde face in wonder. Frederika waited a long minute for the collector to appreciate his new acquisition, then:

“Astrid bend over for...‘Present for Mounting’.” They watched the blond nude move, turning her back to them, lowering head and shoulders, till she stood bending at the hips with hands bracing herself on her thighs. She widened her stance, opening her legs to set he heels several inches apart, and she stood braced there with her taut-skinned bottom sticking out towards them in erotic invitation, passive, submissive, waiting. Max’s eyes were drawn to the soft furry pouch tucked up between those sleek thighs, and his penis instantly surged, blossoming into full-blown erection; he looked away, managed a half smile for his guests.

“Astrid, on your knees…‘Submission’.” The girl now got down to kneel on the floor, promptly fell to hands and knees, and then lowered her head till her forehead rested on the thick pile carpet. She waited there with back arched, her small tight-checked bottom held high in the air. The sudden urge to spank that perky little rump was overpowering, but Max managed to get a grip on himself, working his clenching hands. There would be plenty of time for that sort of sport once his guests had departed, and he had this fascinating creature all to himself.

Frederika , who was watching Max’s reactions, now gave him one of her patented wicked grins. When those lovely knowing eyes met his, he licked his lips and managed a weak nod.

“ Astrid , sit…‘Display’.” Astrid gathered herself up, and moved to the large leather bound easy chair her Mistress indicated. Without further orders, she sat her bare bottom down on the leather cushions, fell back into the generously accommodating chair and slid forward till she was rolled back on her shoulders, her naked bottom resting on the very front of the cushion. Then in one motion she raised and opened her knees, spreading them wide to openly expose her sex as she had been trained to do. With hands coming around to clasp the backs of her thighs, she stared out at them from between her raised knees, an expression of total indifference on her pale blond face. She held herself in that erotic display, waiting to be released.

The Madam kept her model in that brazen pose, letting her client have the time to fully savor the exhibiting blonde. No one moved.

***

Max stood at the upper window watching the two travelers climbing into the back of the cream-colored Rolls. A magnificent nyloned leg was drawn up into the car, the chauffeur closed the door with a dull thud, and went around to take his seat behind the wheel. And as the car made its slow way down the gravel driveway, Max turned away.

He had things to do. He had to see about the arrangements for the little dinner party he had planned; just a few fellow connoisseurs from his circle of intimate and like-minded friends. His latest prize would, of course, be the evening’s entertainment.

***

In the soft candlelight of a richly appointed room, the group stood around in a loose circle, Max and his guests: three men and a woman, drinks in hand, chatting, and all of them…waiting. In spite of their air of sophistication and that seeming nonchalance they affected, there was a certain tension in the air, a simmering sense of anticipation. They all felt it as they sipped their drinks, and made the sort of small talk friends who are comfortable with one another make at those sort of casual gatherings.

They were perhaps no longer young, but all were wealthy, well-kept, good-looking, trim and fit. For tonight’s events they wore half-masks of various colors, and otherwise were conventionally, albeit impeccably, dressed: the men in dark suits and ties; the woman in an elegant off-the-shoulder evening gown. Because of their shared passion, these five had drawn quite close over the years, becoming an intimate circle of friends who met regularly, always at Max’s, for one of his unique soirées and the chance to indulge their peculiar tastes in which they took such epicurean delight.

For they were connoisseurs: determined hedonists dedicated to seeking the most exquisite, most refined of sexual pleasures, always skating along the outer fringe of human sexuality, eagerly pursuing their hobby, their obsession, their “thing” as Mr. Black liked to call it. For the group this evening had adopted the names of colors: Misters Black, White, and Green; the woman was Ms Scarlet. The masks they wore matched their chosen names.

Occasionally, chatting guests might find their eyes straying to the far side of the room where, under a pair of spotlights, waited the odd pedestal on which their host intended to mount his latest acquisition. The apparatus he had chosen consisted of a high stool bolted to the floor. It was perhaps a meter tall, on the wide top on which was mounted a Sybian pleasure machine. The Sybian is a cylinder cut lengthwise; roughly the size and shape of half of a wastebasket lying on its side. The curved mounded surface is vinyl-covered, and smoothly symmetrical; a generous curve, wide, but not so wide that its girth can’t be comfortably squeezed between the clutching thighs of a mounted woman. Centered on the crest of the curve, a cream-colored dildo juts up in erect salute, a slender latex phallus gleaming under the spotlights in obscene readiness.

“So Max when does the show start?” Mr. Black asked, with barely concealed impatience in his voice. Of them all he was the most good-humored, and impetuous with an irrepressible interest in all things sexual. Just the hint of sex in the air had rubbing his hands together while within the confines of his worsted pants his penis was stirring hopefully.

“Yes, Max you know how much we depend on you to supply the most delicious entertainment,” Ms Scarlet’s voice was a low seductive syrup.

“Yes, Come on. Let’s get on with it.” The thin and wiry Mr. Green pleaded with a wicked grin below masked eyes that glittered with excitement. The man was insatiable.

Max gave them all an indulgent smile -- such as one might give a group of eager schoolchildren. “You’re quite right of course, my friends. Time to introduce the star of this evening’s performance.” So saying, he slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and thumbed a button on his cell phone.

***

At the sound of the opening door, all heads turned to witness the graceful entry of a nude woman wearing nothing but a pair of high heeled shoes: a tall and stately model moving with calm composure, her neat blond features kept impassive; devoid of all expression.

Small breasts rode high on her lithe chest; brash nipples pouty and slightly up-tilted. The awe-struck guests moved aside watching the cool blonde glide by, admiring the easy sway of her willowy hips, the tapering lines of her tall legs. She kept her head held high, serenely ignoring them as she walked across the room to present herself to her smiling master.

In her high heels, she stood evenly face to face with him, her eyes looking into his. For a moment they stood there, staring at each other. Then his grin widened as he felt a familiar tingle that caused him to reach out for her. He curved a hand around the back of her neck and drew her to him. As their lips neared the girl obediently opened her mouth to accept a long and soulful kiss. Her hands came up his shoulders and she clutched him to her, her lithe chest squirming against his fully-clothed body in the first blush of rising passion. When finally released, she stood there flushed and panting through parted lips, eyes nicely lowered. They watched her curl and bite her lower lip as her heaving shoulders subsided.

Max stepped back to regard his newest beauty.

“Present.”

As the five of them watched, the perfectly poised blond woman obediently lowered herself to kneel before him. He lifted a hand and laid it on her bowed head.

“My friends, this is Astrid,” he announced, beaming like a proud parent, his eyes on the kneeling girl. “So you think of her?” His fingers played idly in her hair, the fingertips sampling a few silken strands.

“Ravishing,” Mr. Black broke the silence, his voice strained in a hushed whisper.

“Yes, she’s quite a beauty. Quite a beauty indeed!” agreed Mr. Green, his gaze captivated all the while by the erotic pull of the half-naked blond on her knees.

“Oh I soooo agree,” purred, the lovely Ms Scarlet. “Undoubtedly the finest addition to your unique collection, Maximilian.” She surveyed every inch of the slender nude with her cool, critical appraisal.

“Ah yessss, a very tasty morsel indeed,” White added, rubbing his hands in undisguised glee. “May I?…a bit of a sample?” He asked his eyes on the quiet beauty of those bare breasts that seemed to beckon this hungry hands.

Max smiled indulgently, always the gracious host. “But of course”, he gestured, offering the up kneeling figure with an upraised palm.

White stepped up, rubbing his fingertips. He slid a cupping hand to fit the palm to the under-curve of Astrid’s left breast. His fingers closed loosely on the petite mound; he squeezed gently, testing the firm pliant flesh, then moved it in a small circle. Astrid instantly arched back as the masculine hand began to fondle her in slow heated caress.

As he looked down at her, White delicately took a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rubbed the stiffening tip between his fingers as if testing the texture of the sensitive tip. Astrid’s eyes, still fixed on her master’s over White’s shoulder, fluttered and closed, and she took a deep breath.

“Yessss ..very nice, indeed. Her nipples are quite response you see…hard already.” He plucked the nipple as if to make his point, and they watched the deepening undulations of Astrid’s sensitive breasts.

“Come,” Max interrupted their reverie. “Perhaps you’d like to help with the arrangements?’

Astrid was allowed to stand up and accompany the little party across the carpeted floor to where her strange mount awaited her. Now Max and White busied themselves banding her writs with soft buttery straps, the padded cuffs for ankles and wrists had D clips attached -- useful in restraining the blonde.

Now she was led to a small footstool which stood next to the apparatus. Max held her by the arm as she stepped up onto it, and with his assistance, and the always helpful Mr. White, gave her bottom a boost when she swung a leg over to straddle her assigned mount.

She was now standing high up on tiptoes on footstools that have been placed on either side. Max nodded to Ms Scarlet, who reached into the girl’s blond-furred crotch to finger her labia, prying back the pink cunt lips and holding her open while Max gently coaxed her to bend her legs. In this way, she slowly lowered herself onto the jutting penis; they watched the yawning cunt swallow the entire length of the glistening, well-lubricated phallus. Max then climbed up on a foot stool, to kiss the impaled girl; the stools were taken away -- the pale rider left alone, firmly ensconced on her steed.

She shifted a bit, wiggling her hips, getting used to the novel sensation seeking how best to accommodate the rude intruder now lodged well up her squirming vagina.

There was a pause while they stood back to take in the sight of the splendid nude seated, straddling her vinyl mount, her firmly planted cunt stuffed with the latex phallus. She sat upright, looking straight ahead, braced by hands in front of her on the rounded contour of her mount.

Max and his guests now began attaching her in place. The ankle straps were clipped to a circling bar set low on the legs of the tall stool. Her arms were raised high so she might reach up to grasp two loops of leather that hung from the ceiling directly overhead. By holding onto the dangling loops she would be able to pull herself up a bit, perhaps to shift in place; except for that, she would be along for the ride, totally helpless -- the cuffs clipped to the loops would keep her in loose restraints with her thin arms held high overhead.

Now that Max’s new pet has been properly positioned, it was Ms Scarlet who stepped forward. She had been chosen as the most skilled to control the girl’s pleasure ride. She picked up the controller, a small box attached to the Sybian by a long electric cord, while the others stepped back to get a better view.

Astrid’s usually cool unruffled exterior now seemed to be faltering just a bit. She anxiously pulled on the loops, lifting herself off the mound slightly, twisting on the phallus, shifting her bottom, squirming on the saddle. She looked down at the Mistress of her fate who was staring up at her, the controller in her right hand. For a moment, the two women’s eyes met. Then Scarlet’s thumb slid forward just the slightest bit. An angry buzzing came from the direction of the mounted girl; suddenly breaking the quiet stillness of that room,

Abruptly, the girl shot straight up, electrified by the first jolts of stinging pleasure, the buzzing immediately lowered in pitch to become a muffled, barely perceptible hum. The pleasure toy buried up her vagina was now sending repeated thrills shimmering through the girl’s helpless body. She gasped; let out a tiny yelp, tried to pull herself up by the loops.

She sank back. A quiver shot through her shoulders; her body started to shake; little tits juddering merrily. A plaintive whimper escaped those tightly-pressed lips. As if on cue, the thumb slid yet another notch upward.

The buzzing grew louder, more intense. Instantly the hanging girl began to twist on her tether, threw back her head, and let out a long wavering wail, a moan of rising desperation. Soon the blonde was yanking on the straps and bouncing frantically up and down, her lithe body gyrating wildly.

Ms Scarlet, now warm and flushed with her own growing excitement, had been intently watching the other female, playing her like a virtuosos with a fine instrument, delivering the stimulating pulses of pleasure in response to the slightest signs of arousal as they appeared on those passion clenched features. The men stood entranced, mesmerized by the erotic scene; hardened penises pressed urgently against tented trouser fronts.

Now the impaled woman yanked down on the straps to plunk her bottom down firmly on the mound. Gripping its bulk between desperately clenching thighs, her lower body started to move, hips jerking forward in a parody of fucking, tiny thrusts that grew till she was bucking mightily, yelping and riding the rod in lusty abandon.

Her open-mouthed moans were growing higher, louder, till she was shrieking and arching back, hanging tightly to the overhead straps. The lean muscles in her long legs quivered, while she hung there, letting herself be fucked by the pulsating dildo.

As the girl slumped back, her tormentor took that precise moment to slide the switch to its most extreme notch, sending a massive surge of pleasure rocketing through her victim’s trembling body, and bringing on the cascading orgasm that all knew was so near.

Astrid shot bolt upright; eyes wide open. She gave a quick toss to her head. She bit down on her curled her lower lips. Bending forward she yanked down hard down on the hanging straps, determined to hold on, to ride out the escalating wave of creamy pleasure. She let out with a low shuddering moan, shook violently and then with a whimper fell forward, shoulders heaving, sweating breasts undulating in deep swells, like a racehorse in the final heat.

As though on signal, the thumb on the controller, slid forward to the final notch.

Instantly, the passion-driven blonde straightened back up, sticking out those impertinent little tits of hers, shaking them wildly as a shiver of excitement rippled through her body. Her erect body went suddenly rigid. She came with a low pleading moan, as a massive convulsion shook her to the core.

No one moved. They stared in silence at the sight of the slumped-over blonde, her huddled shoulders quivering in the aftershocks, her breathing heavy through her panting mouth as the waves of passion slowly receded, The audience broke into spontaneous applause while Max beamed on, and Scarlet made a little bow.

They left the girl there to recover, still impaled high atop her mount, as they poured another round of drinks.

There was much speculation as to how much time would be best before she was sent on yet another joyride to yet another earth-shattering orgasm. Almost immediately a lively debate ensued. Green and White argued to turn the girl on again immediately and test her endurance; while Scarlett argued to let the poor girl recover. But they all knew the evening’s entertainment had just begun.

The End