The warning and challenge were clear.
“I will try, sir,” Carlo said with an edge to his voice.
Rust turned to Kate.
“Lie very still,” he instructed.
He moved backwards, allowing Kate’s legs to drop and then dangle off the table. She had to claw at the table to retain her balance.
“Spread your legs wider, Kate,” Rust ordered. “Put your feet on the edge of the table.”
Her natural instinct was to close her legs in the presence of Carlo. He was a stranger, and yet not a stranger. But he seemed entirely too eager, too curious to look at her splayed pussy and her gaping holes. But she must not disobey Rust. Wasn’t this the nature of their relationship? The dominant and the dominated. The powerful and the obedient.
So he wanted her to experience a new threshold of pleasure – to be derived by showing her body to another man who was covetous of her. Wasn’t there a word in psychology they learned for it? Exhibitionism. She had her first taste of it when she was asked to display her wares in The Alpha Men’s Club.
And now she was being asked to exhibit herself again. To a boy who openly desired her, no less.
She did as she was told. She was surprisingly limber, and so she placed both her feet on the edge of the table. It was quite uncomfortable and she was very stretched at her hip joints. But her body was still young and supple, and she could maintain the position. Her thighs were open at a slightly lower than one hundred-and-eighty arc now, and her pussy and asshole were lushly displayed. Their shadows danced in the flickering candlelight – two men and a woman lying down.
Carlo came closer.
Look at me. Desire me.
She could tell he was extremely discomfited in the presence of her lover and his Professor. The bulge at his loincloth was even more pronounced now as he took in her engorged pussy leaves and hole, which had just started creaming again. She knew how much he wanted to tear his loincloth off his hard, constrained cock and plunge it into her hole. How badly he wanted to fuck her in all her orifices.
But her lover was watching and he had forbidden Carlo to touch her.
Carlo shakily picked up a salmon sashimi with his chopstick. He was an expert in using them. Without letting any part of his skin touch hers, he laid the orange sliver – sliced off a salmon’s belly – onto her left nipple. Then he did the same to her right.
The fish slivers were cold against the protuberant tips of her nipples. She almost did not dare to breathe for fear of the sashimi sliding off.
Rust’s nostrils flared.
“Wait,” he said to Carlo.
Carlo moved aside as Rust came up again to the edge of the table where her pussy gaped. Rust’s hands stroked her open thighs. He leaned over to seal his mouth over her right nipple, where the salmon piece draped. Her nipple tingled as his teeth grazed upon her sensitive, puckered flesh.
He ate the sashimi slice, swallowing it in one gulp. Then he did the same to the one on her other nipple.
“Would you like more servings, sir?” Carlo said. Once again, she could detect the razor edge in his voice, as though he was working and clenching his jaw.
“Yes.”
From the side of the table, Carlo placed two slices of red mackerel on her nipples. Rust ate them off her again. The contrast of cold fish against his warm, wet mouth upon her flesh was stark. His tongue licked the tip of her nipple lovingly as he lifted the sashimi off her skin.
They did this again and again – serving after serving. She was a veritable feast. Each time, Rust applied more pressure on her nipples as he ate the fish off her. Sucking her teats. Licking her areolas. Wetting them until her darker flesh was glistening and shining in the candlelight.
Her stomach was a mess of gurgling juices. She was hungry too, but her pussy was flowering and creaming with her need. Her vaginal juices were spilling over the edge of her tunnel again, staining the undersides of her buttocks and the table.
Oh, what an embarrassment!
Then Rust said, “Downwards.”
Carlo placed the next slice on her belly, just below her sternum. Rust ate that, licking her skin as he did so and leaving a patch of wetness there. The next slice was placed on a spot below the first one, and then below. Rust followed the trail. When he reached her navel, his tongue dipped into it and circuited it with a languorous swirl.
Each time his tongue danced upon her skin, a fevered spool of pleasure uncurled in her groin. The fish was placed lower and lower until Carlo had reached her mons. Rust ate this. Before Carlo could pick up the next slice with his chopsticks, Rust took it in a pincer grip.
“Allow me,” he said.
He opened up the petals of her pussy with his thumb and third finger. Then, holding them apart, he wedged the sliver of raw fish in between her labia and clit. He did the same to the fold on the other side. Carlo was a desperate observer. His cock tented his loincloth, and he was so hard it was like a flag.