“Yes, Master.” She walked to the bed and climbed over him. She wrapped her hand around his thick column and pressed it to her wet opening. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him. She couldn't help moaning as his big staff filled her.
She felt the mattress compress as Mr. Smith knelt on the bed behind her. His big hands cupped her breasts and he stroked. She squeezed Mr. King inside her.
Mr. Smith kissed the back of her neck as his palms pulsed around her breasts. She moaned softly. Mr. King grasped her shoulders and drew her forward.
Did he want to kiss her?
He drew her tight to his chest, pressing her head against his shoulder. She faced his neck, her breath lightly fluttering wisps of his wavy hair at his temple.
Mr. Smith's slick cockhead pushed against her puckered opening. He must have applied lube. The pressure against her opening increased and his cockhead widened her then slid inside. It stretched her, but once it was inside, he glided forward, pushing his long cock deeper. Slowly. She squeezed Mr. King's cock with her internal muscles as Mr. Smith continued to slide into her.
Finally, Mr. Smith was all the way inside.
“Fuck, the sight of the three of you like that is intense,” Mr. Jacobs said as he stroked his cock, which was already swelling to a new erection.
“You feeling left out?” Mr. King asked.
“Yeah, a little bit,” Mr. Jacobs lamented. “I shouldn't have been so eager.”
“There is a solution to that,” Mr. King said. “I think Evan would be happy to accommodate you.”
Mr. Jacobs stroked his cock faster, but looked dubious.
“Fuck, man, I'd be happy to,” Mr. Smith said, his voice hoarse with need.
Mr. Jacobs stripped down to nothing. Sylvia glanced at the dresser mirror as she felt the bed compress again as he settled behind Mr. Smith.
“Oh, yeah. Fuck.” Mr. Smith's body pushed against hers as Mr. Jacobs pushed into him.
It was so exciting watching Mr. Jacobs' thick cock glide into Mr. Smith's ass. And his murmurs of pleasure quivered through her. Once Mr. Jacobs was fully immersed, he paused to suck in air.
She couldn't believe it. Mr. Smith had a big cock inside his ass while his big cock filled hers. Mr. King's erection twitched inside her vagina, as if to remind her of his presence.
As if she could forget.
Then the cock inside her ass started to move. She watched in the mirror as Mr. Jacobs pulled back, then glided forward. Like a ripple effect, Mr. Smith's cock glided deeper into her, pushing Mr. King's cock deeper into her front passage.
Mr. Jacobs started a steady rhythm. The two behind her moved forward, filling her deep, then Mr. King pushed back, his thick cock filling her and pushing her body back against them.
Soon they became like one. The cocks filled her and glided back, filled her and glided back. A euphoria gripped her as the cocks drove into her, pleasure swelling. Delightful eddies of sensations rippled through her.
They plunged deeper, and she cried out. Behind her, Mr. Smith moaned.
“Ah, fuck, I'm going to come again,” Mr. Jacobs warned. Then the bodies behind her surged forward and he groaned.
Mr. Smith gasped, then surged deeper. His cock released inside her ass. The sensation of hot liquid filling her there made her moan.
Mr. King cupped her chin and turned her to face him. His penetrating blue eyes locked on her and she gazed back at him, mesmerized. His expression was taut, as if he was struggling for control.
“I'm going to come, slave, and I want you to come with me.”
She nodded, unable to utter a word as the sensations bombarded her.
He cupped her ass and thrust forward.
And again.
Then she felt it. His cock pulsed inside her and…
“Ohhhhh. Master.”
He jerked deeper and she moaned. Joy burst through her and she wailed as she sailed to ecstasy.
“Tell me you're coming,” he insisted, his deep voice melting through her.
She nodded as the joy blasted through her. “Oh… yes…” she whimpered. “I...” She arched as the orgasm surged again. “I'm coming…”
The words, barely audible, seemed enough to satisfy him as she rode the wave of pure bliss higher and higher.
Her wails filled the room and with renewed vigor, Mr. King thrust deep and hard. She grasped his shoulders, now riding him like a galloping steed. Absently, she realized the other bodies behind her had moved away and the two men just watched from the sidelines as Mr. King drove her pleasure higher and higher. Finally, she gasped, sucking in much needed air, then she seemed to fade away.
Sylvia opened her eyes and gazed up at Mr. King, who watched her with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She glanced around, trying to get her bearings. She was lying on the bed in the suite.
“I'm fine. Where are—?”
“They left.”
She nodded and pushed back her hair. He sat down beside her and took her hand.
“Sylvia, I'm sorry about this whole thing.” He sighed. “After last night, I think I was just trying to put some distance between you and my feelings. But the way Robertson was acting. It was just going wrong.”
She sat up. “It's okay. I'm really sorry about last night. I never wanted to hurt you.” She squeezed his hand, gazing into his somber blue eyes. “Mr. King, you are the perfect man for me. I might not be able to truthfully say I love you now...” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “But I'm sure in time, it will be true. I want that to be true more than anything.”
He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “So do I.”
Sylvia followed Mr. King into the house, then set down her bag and took off her shoes. It had been a fun day at the office today. It was her birthday, so Mr. Connor and Mr. Sayed had both given her gifts. A basket of bath products and a pretty scarf, respectively. They'd all gone out to lunch and in the afternoon, they'd brought out a cake and sung happy birthday.
Mr. King handed her the basket and the gift bag with the scarf. “Why don't you put those in your room and then come to me in the bedroom.”
She smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
She went into her room and placed the gift basket on the dresser, then put the scarf in the top drawer. She stripped off her black fitted suit and dove grey blouse, then her under things, as he usually liked her to do, then she walked to the door of the master bedroom and stepped inside.
She couldn’t help noticing a black gift box with a large silver bow sitting on the bed, but she turned her gaze to Mr. King. He sat in the armchair, a smile on his face as his gaze glided over her naked body. She knelt on the floor beside his knee.
He stroked her hair behind her ear.
“I'm going to take you out tonight to celebrate your birthday.”
“Thank you, Master. Where?”
He smiled. “That's a surprise. Right now, I want you to put on the dress I bought you. It's in the box on the bed.”
She stood up and walked to the bed, wondering where Mr. King was taking her. Maybe they’d go out dancing. He'd been asking her what kinds of things she liked to do over the past week and she'd hinted about it.
She lifted off the lid and drew out the slinky, long red dress. There was a pair of shoes in the box and a pair of black gloves, but nothing else. No lingerie of any kind. She turned to him uncertainly.
“Put it on.”
She pulled it over her head and the slinky fabric glided down her body, clinging to every curve. It was cut low in front with narrow straps, and was completely backless. She put the tall stiletto pumps on the floor—red with rhinestone trim—and stepped into them. Then she pulled on the long, black gloves.
“Turn around,” he said, his blue gaze locked on her.
She glanced at herself in the mirror as she turned, and her cheeks flushed. The outline of her nipples and aureoles were perfectly visible through the fabric, as was the dent over her navel. She could only guess what she looked like from behind.
She couldn't imagine going out in public in this dress.
But if he commanded it, she would do it.
He stood up and walked toward her.
“There's only one thing missing.”
A long flowing overdress that would hide her, she hoped.
But he held up a band of five rows of small rhinestones. He drew her hair to one side, the light brush of his fingers sending goose bumps along her flesh, and wrapped it around her neck, then fastened it. He turned her toward the mirror and she saw a gold pendant hanging from the front, which formed the word 'slave'.
Then he arranged her hair so it cascaded over her bare shoulders.
“Perfect. Let's go.” He took her hand and led her out the front door to the car. Once they were sitting inside it, he drew a red band of cloth that matched her dress from his pocket. “As I said, where we're going is a surprise, so I'm going to blindfold you.”
He tied the fabric around her head, covering her eyes, then started the car.
It was strange sitting in the moving car, her eyes covered by the fabric, with no idea where they were going. At first, she noticed every stop, acceleration and turn, then she just settled back in the seat and enjoyed the quiet lull of the moving vehicle.
They drove for about forty minutes, then he stopped the car.
“I'm going to put a shawl around your shoulders now. It's very dressy, with sequins. I think you'll like it. Then I'm going to take your hand and walk you to our destination.”
He unlatched her seat belt, then she felt the shawl glide over her shoulders. She heard his car door close and she waited, apprehensive about walking around in public with the blindfold, with no idea where they were. At least the shawl would cover the revealing dress.