Dinner Party Sex Stories の小説・ストーリー

He trailed his hands down then held my butt in his two hands, “We are already late, butterfly.” “We are going to be more late,” I reasoned with him and he pulled away reluctantly. “Ugh, you have a point.” He accepted, picking up my purse and I slipped my hand through his. “It’s just going to be few hours. When we get back, you can do anything you want to me.” Alex smirked, his eyes shining. “Anything?” I smiled, battling my lashes. “Anything baby.” The dinner party was like any other dinner party, filled with Pearl's most popular models, executives and other blogs they work with. Men couldn't keep their eyes off of me, while women were consuming Alex like he was eye candy.

"You're a spoilt man who lacks a mother figure. Ah, sweet Jean, poor momma's boy. Let me ask you, if you got tired of me, how long would it take for you to find a new lover?" "I'm not out of a girl's arms, even for one night. I have to find a new lover the same day we break up. Have you ever heard about Veirea's dinner party?" "The dinner party for rich men?" "Yup. You know, I'm interested in attending that dinner party to find a new girl. I heard that they provide the most beautiful girls who have the potential to become mistresses. Poor ladies think they're just going to be waitresses, only dressed half-naked, but actually they're merchandise on display, showing their boobs and tits so tha

"For bigger stuff or parties, you can't beat the taste of hickory or mesquite." The other guys headed inside as Duncan pulled all the food off the grill and headed inside with it. He noticed that the ladies had set the table and everyone sat down. He leaned over and kissed his wife. "So what were you ladies talking about in here?" Ed asked. Kelly blushed immediately and shot a warning look at Marie. Marie couldn't help herself. "Oh you know, girl talk, sexual position, penis size." Kelly flopped her head down into her hands. Everyone around the table laughed, except Kelly, as she was three shades of red. "Jesus, Marie."

" they each took a hand rubbing affectionately. Smiling I look at the numbers trying to distract myself and not jump them already in their button down shirts which they left the top buttons open and pants suits as they paired it with a Versace dress shoe. Our dinner went smoothly with the exception of the waitress trying to seduce my mates but just one glare sent her and her mini outfit scurrying off. Filled to my satisfaction of the nice Italian dish I've forgotten its name we came back to the penthouse. Riding the elevator you could cut the obvious tension with a knife. Sexual waves bounce off each of us as I squirm from one foot to the other. Damian held a mischievous grin while Damon hel

I came so hard I nearly blacked out, my pussy gushing around the massive toy. After I recovered, I pulled her up and kissed her deeply. “I’m having a dinner party at my house next weekend,” I whispered against her lips. “I want you to cum… and I want you to fuck me again.” We got dressed, rejoined the party, and I found Ryan. He asked if I was having a good time. I smiled innocently and said, “I really like your friend’s wife, Lena. She is one very attentive hostess.” That night opened a door I never knew existed. Lena and I have been seeing each other ever since… and sometimes our husbands get to watch the filthy things we do together.

She was gasping desperately for air while he railed her from behind. “Come on my cock,” he ordered. She couldn't hold back no more, she shattered, as her pussy clenched around him as waves of unwanted pleasure ripped through her. Samson groaned and flooded her with hot cum, pumping every drop deep inside her. He didn’t pull out right away. He stayed buried, stroking her hair tenderly. “You belong to me now.” x****x♡˖ The next evening, the hedonistic party began. The main salon had been transformed. Low lighting, pulsing music very loud, and the scent of expensive cigars and sex. Naked waitresses—other captured girls, Selena realized with horror—served champagne. The men lounged on leather co

Leslie was very wet and I was certain that it was someone else's cum and not, as she tried to tell me, her own juices. The one thing I did know for sure is whatever had happened at the party that night, it had turned Leslie into a sex maniac. Our sex life was usually limited to three or four times a week and then usually only one time, but that night she would not leave me alone. As soon as we got into the bedroom she pulled me to the bed and we did it with our clothes still on. When I came we undressed and she sucked me hard again, pushed me back on the bed and mounted me. I came the second time and she went to work on me again. The more she fucked me, the more I had to know what had happen

Half an your of hectic sex and we lay disengaged. Then I arranged for dinner. Before that scotch was inviting us. I made two large and added soda with ice. H had some French fries fried and kept ready for this time. We finished one, two, three and then fourth, in between kissing and exchanging the whisky between our mouths. I was feeling at the top of a hill and then served the meals. Even meals we exchanged from each other’s mouth. I was in hurry to finish and push him tool in me. I left the finished plates on the table to be cleaned next morning. It was half past nine. I locked the doors and pulled him to bed. I begged him to stay at night.

I nodded toward the bulge in his pants. He looked down, smoothing over his slacks. “Today has been about you. Not me.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “We have plenty of time to get to that. But you’re right. Man can’t live off pussy alone. I hope you like chicken and sausage jambalaya and cornbread.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Post-orgasm hunger had me at my most ravenous. “I do.” I stood, smoothing down my night gown. “Should I change for dinner?”

“Get dressed. Your binder’s on the desk.” The party was a wall of noise and bodies. The Sigma house basement was thick with the smell of beer, sweat, and cheap cologne. Cynthia, dressed in her loose jeans, t-shirt, and the constrictive binder, felt like she was moving through a dream. The soreness between her legs and the deeper ache in her ass were constant, visceral reminders of the hours before. Simon’s hand was a brand on her shoulder, guiding her through the crowd. “Cyril! My roommate!” he announced to a group of guys, his voice all easy camaraderie. She forced a grin, nodding, her voice dropping to the lower register she’d practiced.