A First Date With Sally
You’re cleaning my boots with your twat while I prepare for this evening’s date, crushing each point and jerking when new layer of cowhide passes across your crude clit. As I put on my perfume and inhale the boozy tobacco and iris scent, you hold them out for inspection, wishing Sally was going on the date instead of you.
We were having a quiet night in together after I had matched with her on Tinder a few nights earlier. I was sitting on the couch and you were lapping fervently at my asshole. We set a date for the following weekend after exchanging a few brief messages. I showed you some photographs of her following a couple of moments and when you perceived how pretty she was you quickly when back to tonguing my butt with recharged power, energetic (or was it frantic) to please.
Your eyes light up as I nod my approval at the outstretched boots, saying, “They look polished enough.” Now clean them with your tongue to finish the job. “On my way out of the house, I strip you naked except for the heavy steel collar around your neck and lock you in your cage with a water bowl in the corner.
You don’t know how many hours have passed before you finally hear a woman laughing and the key turning in the lock. The clinking of wine glasses, our flirting in the kitchen, and eventually the sound of heels walking down the hallway to the bedroom are all sounds you can hear.
The light is abruptly flicked on making you flicker and squint in the unexpected brilliance.
“She didn’t believe me about you,” I amusedly explain, and you settle into the cage, retreating to a corner in an effort to maintain your dignity. You are praised by Sally as she walks over to the cage and kneels down. Furthermore, after a second fixes up and giggles once more.
“She’ll do anything?” “I swear I thought you were joking.”
“Yes, within our agreement. Isn’t this what she requires?
You realize this last inquiry is aimed at you and you deal with a peaceful murmur of understanding.
I make my way over to the cage, open it, and ask you to come out and kneel in front of me. You do this, and as you do so, you get a faint whiff of something new—the scent of her cunt on my cock already? With your hands raised and resting on your thighs, you position yourself, looking down. Sally suddenly breaks out laughing once more after a beat in which nothing happens.
“Is she a magician?” I can see that your cheeks are flushed with blood as she manages to escape amid the laughter.
I chuckle, “She knows a few.”
“Please demonstrate to Sally how appreciative you are for having a few drinks with me this evening,” I asked.
You silently crawl over to her and, standing at her feet, look into her eyes from above.
“May I properly thank you with my tongue for showing Daddy a good time this evening?”
Sally pulls up her skirt to expose her waxed cunt after a brief pause to give me feedback.
“Eat” she orders with astounding power, as though conversing with a canine and you mix forward to get a superior point. Your nostrils are filled with the warm, wet scent of her cunt. It has a fresh scent, and as your mouth catches her clit, you imagine her bending over a sink in the bar’s bathroom. How long has your cunt been used in that manner?
Your tongue expertly flicks under and applies pressure precisely where it is needed to her clitoral hood. Although Sally isn’t the first woman you’ve made pleasure of, it’s been a while since you’ve had the rare opportunity to make a woman’s breath quicken.
While sipping my wine and taking in the view, I relax on the edge of the bed. Sally’s face is raised, her eyes are closed, and she is enjoying herself by softly meowing. As she enters the throes of an orgasm, I observe her body begin to shake with the first signs of an orgasm, and you wrap your arms around her, grabbing her butt and pushing her closer into your mouth to stabilize her shaking legs. She continues to gently care for her cunt as she considers you as she looks down at you after the shaking has subsided.
You manage to say, “Thank you mistress,” without lifting your tongue from her clit.
I tell Sally, “Give her your wine and join me on the bed,” and she hands you the half-finished bordeaux, pausing to look at it as if she’s making up her mind before spitting it into the glass.
“Drink” she orders prior to betraying you, peeling off her garments (no clothing, you note) and slithering towards me on the bed.
You knelt that night to watch me fuck Sally all night long. It was been a long time since you were permitted to utilize your cunthole for sex and I made a point to situate it so you would see each push into her, each pulse of my rooster siphoning my cum somewhere inside her. At last Sally left, refering to work in the first part of the day, however not without strolling over to you and requesting you clean her dribbling twat.
After she’d left I welcome you onto the bed to snuggle with me, chest actually smooth with the perspiration of fucking another lady. You stick onto me and we nod off together on top of the covers, next to each other without precedent for quite a while.
The last thing you hear as you’re falling asleep is “great young lady, you made me so pleased this evening”