Tales 12

Tales 11

Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

Tales NHSP 8

Challenge of Love

Tales Vol. 1

Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

The Silver Locke

Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club


11c – V is for Viennese Oyster

“Isn’t that a little mundane?” you ask politely, even as your fingers slide over her buttocks, enjoying the smooth skin and delicate features.  She laughs lightly, obviously in her element and she straightens and turns to you, wrapping her long thin arms around your neck.  You can’t help enclosing her in your arms and you feel her soft breasts pressed against your chest.

“So what are you thinking about?” she asks, her eyes glittering with mischief.

You shrug.  “You mention an oyster, and another position called ‘the victory’.”

She chuckles and shakes her head.  “You’re not ready for those, sweetheart.”

A little bruising to the ego and your brow furrows.  “Not ready?”

Megan laughs again. “Oh, not physically.  You could do them.  You’re not ready sexually.”  Her mouth lingers on the word “sexually.” 

You nod.  “I see. So what needs to happen to get me ready?”

She grabs your hand and pulls you toward the bed.  Her eyes light up as she practically jumps onto the silken red sheets and rolls over onto her back, her head dangling off the edge toward you.  You look at her in surprise as she reaches out and motions you closer.  You only start to understand when she takes your cock into her mouth, literally sucking on you upside down.  Her talented tongue slurps away, sending shivers through your body and you end up squatting a bit to help her get a better angle.  You realize that her breasts are right there and you begin to rub, tweak, and pinch the delicate nubs as she works her oral magic. 

After several minutes you realize that what she is doing is not getting you any closer to orgasm, merely making the pressure rise.  You groan with need and pull away from her, wanting something more substantial.

“Can we do the oyster now?” you ask, as she rolls onto all fours.  She shakes her head.

“First we do the ‘worm’.  Lay down on your back,” she commands. 

With a smile you climb up on the bed and lay down.  She glides over you and then straddles your cock, her back facing your head.  You groan as she impales herself on your cock, riding you backward, but then she leans forward and in moments is literally lying on her stomach between your legs.  Your shaft is still embedded in her pussy and her undulations back and forth only drive you crazier. 

Part of the problem is the view of course.  From this position you can see the luscious curves of her buttocks, and the odd but incredibly intoxicating view of your cock disappearing repeatedly into her perfect slit.  The brown button of her bottom is just as enticing and you find yourself even closer to desperation.  She pumps her hips up and down, keeping you hard, tantalizing your cock, yet not giving you either the depth, pressure, or friction you need to cum.  She is an artist, a contortionist, and just as you are beginning to go crazy she spreads her legs and sits upright on your cock, fully impaled as she opens into a thigh stretching set of splits.  Then, to your astonishment, she actually rotates around slowly, moving one leg and then other until she is sitting, knees together, side saddle, still impaled, as if on a spit.

You feel the muscles in her cock squeeze you tightly and she begins to bounce, feet pushing upward as she recoils up and down on your rod.  The motions are intense, so different, and you begin to wonder if you can ever have sex again.  It’s as if Megan is a walking Kama Sutra, an expert in various positions.  Once more the pressure builds and you find yourself still unable to explode.  As incredible as it feels, you still aren’t in the right position for release.  You make urgent sounds in your throat and you reach out, grabbing her and turning her toward you.  She grins and once more rotates, still impaled on your shaft.  She tucks her legs underneath her and ends up straddling your cock again, this time facing you.

The sensations on your cock are incredible and you reach out, hands roaming over her breasts and hips.  She leans forward, her breasts dangling in front of your eyes and she places a chaste kiss on your lips, eyes dancing. 

“I think you’re ready now.  Want to try the Viennese Oyster?” she asks, her words soft.

“I just want to cum,” you reply, clearly at the mercy of your libido.  Megan laughs and then does the cruelest thing a woman has ever done to you.  She lifts herself from your cock and then lies down on her back.  You look at her in surprise as she lifts her legs and pulls them upward then toward her head.  In seconds they are tucked behind her ears and her pussy gapes open, inviting you to enter.  You roll over and immediately impale her, thrusting deeply into her hole like a thirsty horse looking for water.  Her body rocks with the thrusting movement of your hips and her legs scissor slightly with each penetration.  You can see the ecstasy in her eyes, the glazing of her pupils as she comes close to orgasmic release. 

She releases her ankles, spreading her legs upward and to your sides in a V shape as you continue to plunge.  She tightens around you, soft moans escaping her lips as you harden and begin to shake.  The orgasms come almost simultaneously, your thick cream bubbling out of your tormented cock like an emerging dragon.  Her explosion is somewhat more violent, a heart stopping earthquake that sends tremors through every muscle, translating into your skin.  She screams her release, her thighs pressing against you, legs still up in the air, toes pointed to the sky.

As you collapse on top of her she slowly relaxes, enjoying the sensations you’ve created in her.  It’s several minutes before either of you say anything.  Your arm is draped over her body, one leg pinning her down.  Finally she turns her head and looks at you directly, a smile on her lips.

“V is for victory.  Hope you liked that. I really did,” she says, her eyes still glazed with satisfaction.   You return the smile with a nod.

“I haven’t cum like that in a really long time.  You sure know how to please a woman,” she continues.  “The hour isn’t up, though.  Interested in getting cleaned up?” she asks.

It’s a surprising question, one that you’ve never been asked here at the Club.  You nod stupidly, pleased at getting to explore new waters.  Megan rises out of the bed, the athletic grace and physical strength magically returning to her wrung out and sexed body.  You admire the feline like grace as her muscles ripple and she holds out her hand to you.  It’s not as easy for you to get up, but when she gathers all of the clothes from the floor, both hers and yours, you feel your curiosity piqued. 

Her eyebrows flash upward once in a look of mischievous fun and she sticks her head through the curtain, checking the hall.  With a flick of her hand, she motions you forward and you follow her naked into the small corridor between darkened VIP rooms.

To say you are uncomfortable is an understatement.  Unclothed in private is one thing.  Letting your danglies be seen in public?  That’s another.  But to your surprise she turns and heads to the very back of the corridor, away from the lounge.  Embedded in the wall there is a door, painted black, with a sign saying “employees only”.  Without hesitation Megan opens the door and leads you into a well lit hall.  While not decorated with the lush extravagance of the VIP lounge, the parquet floors and nicely painted walls gives off a feeling of quiet competence.  Large fluorescent lights dot the ceiling and for the first time you have the ability to truly see Megan.

She is magnificent.  The smooth tone of a gymnast can be seen in every curve of muscle, her beautifully shaped calves and thighs thin, graceful, and corded with muscle.  Her abdomen is washboard, with just enough flesh upon her bones for her ribs to be concealed.  Her breasts are small, but round enough to fill your hand.  If only she were nine inches taller she would be modeling on the fashion runways of Paris.

Her high heels stop in the middle of the hallway and she turns and gives you a smile.  “Would you rather take a shower, or get in a two person bubble bath?” she asks.

You notice two doors on opposite sides of the hall.  One clearly is labeled “Showers”, while the opposite one bears a plate declaring “Spa”.  It takes a moment for you to decide.

You’re a shower kind of guy.  All sorts of delicious things can happen in a shower stall! (15a)

The idea of relaxing in a huge tub of soapy hot water with the beautiful Megan lying against you sounds perfect.  Who knows what kind of trouble you can get yourself into! (15b)