The Sinful Soirée Ch. 01

Literotic asexstories – The Sinful Soirée Ch. 01 by DaddyTroy,DaddyTroy
Victor got up to refill his drink and resume his hosting duties, leaving me alone nursing my third whisky of the evening. From my corner spot, I scanned the large room, the party in full swing now. Victor and Sofia’s swinging soirées were legendary and this was shaping up to be another fabulous night of high-class debauchery. All guests were vetted for these invitation only events, either known to the couple or recommended by reliable sources. Phones were handed in at the door to encourage connections and ensure everyone felt comfortable being themselves. A few drinks in now, the atmosphere was certainly livening up, an electricity humming among the 50 or 60 beautifully-dressed people spread across the two large open plan living spaces and kitchen at the heart of the hosts’ historic nineteenth century home.

I sat and observed, as was my usual way on such occasions. Victor and I hadn’t had a good chat in a couple of years, so it had been great to catch up with the charming old bastard. He headed back into the melee of high-spirited guests, looking quite splendid as he walked away in his tailored suit with the specially made cut-outs for his tight butt cheeks. I’d watched that butt fuck a few people in my time, I reflected, as he greeted a newly-arrived group of latex-clad guests.

Over the course of the evening the hum in the room had grown, people beginning to pair off or gather in small niches. Bodies had grown closer, hands had intertwined or were stroking cheeks or forearms. One couple were hanging over the end of the kitchen counter, the woman with her butt perched on the hard surface, short skirt riding up as her paramour explored her neck with his mouth and her body with his hands. One young man on a couch had the stockinged foot of an elegant older woman across his lap, massaging it to her clear delight as she audibly cackled, “Darling, don’t stop at the foot!” A cluster of women standing in a small circle in front of the huge fireplace were comparing breast size and firmness, giggling as they took turns applying squeezes or unbuttoning blouses to display the fine lingerie they’d selected for the party. It was only a matter of time before a bra was unclasped and the owner’s pert nipples were eagerly sucked into lipstick lips. I downed the last dram of amber liquid in my glass, the warmth sliding down my throat, matching the arousal I felt surveying this sumptuous feast of sensuality.

My eye was caught by a group of people moving to the kitchen, leaving behind two of their number who were deep in bubbly conversation, laughing and touching each other’s arms. How had I not noticed this woman in black before? Dressed in a short, tight-fitting dress — the back of which was more skin than dress — she oozed allure. Her slim, firm body was clearly the product of dedicated time at the gym or Pilates. Her luxurious straight, black hair flowed right down that bare back. And her ass … goddamn if it wasn’t the perfect firmness for my palm or a paddle. As I watched, she turned and saw my eyes fixed on her. She flashed a smile at me before turning her pretty face down coyly, clasping her hands in front of her. My immediate thought was that this was a signal that she is a well-trained submissive. She turned back to the person she was talking to, but the spark was ignited.

She had my attention alright. Her skin was perfect porcelain, inviting you to imagine capturing her and licking her sweet, soft flesh or marking it with pretty stripes. The current that was charging the room sparked inside me, running through my body, my balls tingling and blood rushing to my cock inside my tailored suit pants as my mind imagined the ways I would use this delightful creature. My hand strayed involuntarily to tease the warm flesh swelling against my thigh. With her naked back turned now, its graceful curve conjured a fantastic image of her body arcing, moaning in ecstasy as I tortured, teased and pleased her. She tossed her hair somewhat theatrically, knowing I would still be watching. That silky hair just begged to be wrapped around my fist. I had to have this gorgeous submissive as my plaything.

I got up, refilled my own drink at the kitchen counter, and walked past her on my way back to my corner. Her eyes followed me as I approached, and I waited for her to turn momentarily from her conversation as I passed, whispering quietly, “Come sit with Sir, my dear, and let’s get to know each other.” Without waiting for an answer I sat back down and waited, idly straightening my cufflinks. After a few moments, she left her friend, who gave her a knowing smile. She didn’t turn to walk over to me, however, but headed towards the drink supplies arranged across the kitchen counter. She picked up the same bottle of Glenfiddich I had just poured my own drink from and, collecting a fresh glass, came to sit next to me, setting the bottle and glass down on the table in front of me. She sat quietly, looking up at me with sparkling eyes waiting for me to speak. “Hello, my dear,” I said, meeting those inviting eyes. “Hello Sir,” she replied. I cast my eyes over her body, firm tits held tight in her black dress; slim legs, crossed right now, crowned with shiny black heels. Those legs wouldn’t be crossed for long, I thought.

“I am Troy,” I said serenely, tipping my glass in her direction. “You’re having the same?” I questioned with my eyes in the direction of the clean glass and the half-full bottle of scotch. A gleam in the corner of her eye told me she was very pleased with her bottle trick but she didn’t let on.

“If you’ll allow it, Sir,” she replied in an exotic accent I couldn’t quite place.

“A woman who enjoys a good whisky is a woman after my own heart,” I responded. She paused, wondering if I would fill her tumbler for her but I waited for her to do it herself to see what measure she would pour. She took the bottle, tipping in a very healthy amount into the clean glass, which tinkled pleasingly over the buzz of conversation. She’d apparently even observed I take it straight, matching this with her own drink. The bubbliness I’d observed as she chatted to her friend was kept in check now; she was calm and as measured as the amount of whisky she’d poured out. She was also clearly gauging me and my reactions, as of course she should. I was impressed by these initial impressions. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, taking the drink in her slender fingers, nails painted a striking white to contrast her outfit. We clinked our glasses together ceremoniously. “To you, my dear,” I toasted. I anticipated her response but it was very pleasing nonetheless: “Oh no, to you, Sir!”

She had had the opportunity to tell me her name when I’d told her mine. But clearly, out of deference, she was waiting to be asked. When I did at this point, she smiled serenely and told me, “Thank you, Sir. My name is Jenny.”

We chatted, flirting and assessing each other. Naturally anyone at a Victor and Sofia event was safe and well-versed in the Lifestyle. I asked if this was her first such event and she said it was her first with these hosts, an invitation she’d been hoping to secure for some time. I was an old-timer, I informed her, though this was my first for a few years for various reasons.

“The party meets your expectations?” I inquired, waving my glass in a sweeping motion to take in the rising level of debauchery on display. The couple at the kitchen counter had progressed to incorporating the food into their play, the woman now on her knees and spraying whipped cream onto the man’s lengthy cock, his pants now round his ankles. Others nearby watched and egged her on, one woman reaching out a hand to swipe up some cock-cream into her own laughing mouth. On the sofa, the young man had pulled the stocking from the domme’s foot and was now on his knees sucking her toes; she had her skirt hitched up with her hand rubbing her glistening pussy through crotchless panties. And the group of girls had formed a chain of mouths, breasts, hands, and pussies, having arranged themselves now over two sofas in front of the fireplace. Elsewhere, butts were being slapped; clothes were being discarded; a strap-on had been produced and was being passed around for examination. Things were definitely heating up.

My lovely companion took a sip of her drink. I watched the gulp of her throat as she felt it slide down her throat before she looked up at me and answered: “So far, yes my expectations are met. Though now I expect they will be exceeded, Sir,” she answered, her full lips curling in an adorably suggestive smile.

We discussed the roles and kinks on display at the party — the doms and dommes, the submissives of various kinds. She told me she’d been in the Lifestyle several years but was unowned at present. She was intelligent, eloquent, and charming. She filled my drink again without asking and was attentive in every way.

She pointed out the hostess Sofia, admiring her poise and elegance. Sofia was dressed exquisitely, as usual, in a magnificent 50s evening gown slit right up one leg to her hip. She was also wearing the diamond-studded collar Victor had given her some years ago in this very room in front of a similar gathering. “As it happens,” I told the lovely girl at my side, “I have had the pleasure of being served by Sofia, who is surely the most accomplished submissive in the city. Victor allowed me the pleasure of taking care of her while he was away on an extended business trip some years ago. I am sure you could learn a lot from her. I sense you may be a kindred spirit.” We sat in silence a moment or two, watching Sofia, with her radiant smile, making everyone feel at ease and free to express themselves. Passing the young man, she took his head gently in her hands and — giggling — began to guide his face from her foot to between the domme’s legs.

I turned my attention back to my dark-haired temptress. “Are you the kind of girl to enjoy such public play?” I asked.

She took another taste of her drink, giving herself a moment to choose her words. “To be honest, Sir, I have no experience of this kind of thing, with quite so many people watching.”

I regarded her closely and she shifted in her seat, one hand smoothing her dress down her thigh, fingertips straying subtly onto the soft flesh of her inner thigh below the hemline. I watched her, letting the space between us breathe. “But the idea excites you, hmm?”

“Yes, Sir. Very much, Sir.” She took a deep breath and I watched her chest rise then fall, until she filled the space: “Under the right guiding hand, that is, Sir.”

She held great promise, I thought to myself. I sensed a yearning inside her to unleash something she was holding back. “You are exactly what I’d been hoping to find at the party,” I told her. I praised her appearance but, even more so, her demeanour. “What a treat it is to meet a submissive with such a sharp mind and good conversation.”

She blushed, pausing before replying with a fiery sincerity in her direct gaze. “I am made to please a man like you, Sir.”

I returned her gaze. “Such beautiful words and, even after just a short time, I have no doubt you are true to your word. However,” — I reached into my pocket and placed on the table in front of her a small box adorned with a little ribbon — “I am the sort of dominant who enjoys bringing pleasure to my submissives as much as receiving it.” She took a look at the pink box and took a deep breath. I watched her chest rise and fall before she turned her eyes questioningly back to me.

“Don’t worry, I’m not proposing marriage after fifteen minutes,” I quipped. “Just something fun, if you’re up to the challenge.” I gestured for her to open the box. She did not hesitate at my command. Inside was a pink silicone egg and its remote control. She glanced down at it and I saw her face flush with excitement.

“I keep this,” I said, picking up the remote, brandishing it and pressing one of the buttons for a second. It visibly vibrated inside its foam nest. “Are you wearing panties, my dear?” I enquired.

“I am, Sir,” she said, fluttering her lashes at me.

“Let me have them please,” I said. Her eyes briefly flashed around the room. She understood the game and was playing it beautifully. She quickly half-stood, reached her hands up under her dress and wiggled her underwear down her thighs until they fell to her ankles. She remained standing and we both looked at them for a moment, enjoying the sluttiness of the black lacy thong sitting atop her classy heels. Then she leant down, threaded them over her shoes, handed them to me, the fabric pleasingly warm and damp, the crotch glistening with the signs of her excitement. I coolly folded the thong and placed it on the table next to our glasses and the slightly-less full bottle of whisky. We both sensed eyes beginning to be cast in our direction. I patted the seat for her to sit again, and the smile in the corners of her eyes told me how pleased she was at satisfying this request so beautifully. I was equally pleased by this captivating creature and, likewise, enjoying the attention of onlookers.

“Good girl, that will make the next part much easier.” I leaned in close and whispered in her ear huskily, “You’re dripping wet already aren’t you, my dear? Watching all these beautiful people enjoy each other? And thinking about how they might enjoy watching you?”

She blinked her long black lashes once. “Yes, Sir. And I can put on a marvelous show, I assure you.”

Without further instruction she stood. She scooped up the egg and held it aloft a moment, regarding it with a smirk, before her slender arm gracefully popped it into her mouth. She held on to the little pink tail as she suggestively sucked the device in and out, played her tongue around it, and brought it back out glistening with her saliva. She then reached under her dress between her legs. She certainly must have been soaked, slipping it inside herself in mere seconds. She sat again, her dress riding up, and the little sensor-tail a bright pink against the flawless fair skin of her inner thigh. Her bare slit was just visible to me as I watched, enraptured by her confident compliance. For a moment my mind flashed forward to my mouth on that juicy pussy, tasting her nectar, her scent filling my nostrils. During the whole process, not once did she glance around the room to see if anyone had noticed what she was doing, though they most certainly had, keeping her focus on me.

“You are well-trained indeed,” I praised her, picking up the remote. Her cheeks glowed with an obvious pride in her display of submission, and the little intake of breath she took as my thumb hovered over the button was delicious in its anticipation. My eyes on her face, I gave it a test. The device wedged inside her hummed its subtle buzz. She closed her eyes briefly and let out a tiny gasp but remained otherwise unflustered. “Thank you, Sir.”

We continued to chat. The whole time I left the buzzer on its low setting but, although we could occasionally hear it working its magic inside that tight wet hole, she gave no acknowledgement of the pleasure it was giving her, other than the glow in her cheeks and shifting her butt on the seat. When I looked closely there were shiny wet traces of her arousal on the seat beneath her.

She was smart, well educated — that turned me on even more. Smart and sexual, the best possible combination. No doubt capable, independent, reliable in whatever her profession was. But sexually she craved to be dominated, used, controlled. Her bright eyes sparkled at me as we talked. My cock was hard, clearly visible in my pants, as I fantasised about penetrating her mouth, those sensuous lips wrapped around me.

Sofia was free for a moment so I suggested that my companion go and introduce herself. “Tell her Troy sent you — and that he is enjoying your company very much,” I added, causing her to blush again furiously. “Thank you, Sir,” she said and stood a little unsteadily, no doubt from a mixture of whisky and the toy buzzing inside her yearning pussy. As she straightened her dress a single tear of her honey trickled down her thigh. I stopped her moving away with a hand on her hip. It was the first moment we had touched and I felt the jolt of electricity hit me again. I leaned across, reaching out my index finger. “Let me just make sure you’re presentable when meeting our hostess.” I swiped my finger upwards along her thigh, slowly, then brought the sticky digit to my lips, sucking it clean. The sweetness was as intoxicating as the whisky. I felt suddenly rather drunk but more on arousal than from the alcohol.

She gave me another fabulous smile. “Thank you, Sir. I always want to make the right impression.”

“I have every confidence in you. Oh, and don’t let on about the egg inside you,” I added. “It can be a little surprise for Sofia at the right moment.”

She recovered her poise, bowing her head slightly at me, and made her way over to Sofia. Our gorgeous hostess greeted her with a kiss on each cheek, taking her hands in her own and giving her a good looking over. They began to talk and Sofia looked over at me, no doubt at the mention of my name, waving and smiling. Sofia gave an exaggerated thumbs up in my direction, giggling at her hilarious endorsement of my prospect. My girl smiled and laughed too. Sofia had that way of making people feel fabulous.

This was my moment to play devil. Zap — I gave the girl a sudden buzz at the medium setting for a few seconds then returned to the gentle buzz. She appeared to tense up a moment and shifted her weight from one foot to the other but otherwise gave no sign of the egg stimulating her insides. I waited, knowing she was expecting the next one, her pussy clenching round that egg. Zap! Zap!! I kept them irregular, so she couldn’t anticipate when they would arrive, well aware how badly she was pulsing between each buzz. By now, without her thong, no doubt she could feel the drip of her neediness running down her thighs.

I relished the control, as I always do. Undoing my belt I eased my hand into my boxer briefs, tugging and stroking my fat cock. It was rigid now, its latent power awakening as I exerted my control over this amazing woman. Time to escalate. I turned the vibrations up to high. ZAP. She flinched this time. ZAPPP! ZAPPP!! This time she buckled slightly, grabbing Sofia’s arm to steady herself. Sofia asked if she was all right and as she was replying yes… I ZAPPED her, holding my hand on the button. Her legs gave way, Sofia reaching out for her to grab her as she stumbled, and I could clearly hear my toy gasping and saying, ‘Oh my God….’ as I buzzed her relentlessly. Her legs were shaking and she fumbled for the words she knew she should say. I could barely hear her muttered cries of “Sirrr, pl — please! Sir! C-can I…” But she was too far gone, falling over the edge even the words fell from her mouth.

Then as the party music subsided momentarily between songs the telltale buzzing sound was audible for a moment. Sofia reacted, obviously having heard, and, as most of the room turned to watch the night’s first orgasm, our hostess loudly proclaimed, “Ohh! Ohh, I see!! You are all right!” Naturally, many eyes were drawn to the sound of our hostess’s raised voice. Sofia held the young woman up as her orgasm took control of her body completely. Sofia looked over at me with the smiling eyes of an old friend and lover recognising my handiwork. “Troy, you haven’t changed, darling!” My lovely toy had crumpled to her knees and was panting heavily, a beautiful blush blooming on her cheeks under the gaze of the lewd revelers.

I stood, my belt askew and the tip of my swollen cock peeking above the waistband of my pants, gilded with precum. I made my way towards them, and held the remote aloft theatrically to turn it off. I too enjoyed an audience. My girl, now on all fours, let out a guttural “Fuck!” of relief, followed by a series of muttered “oh my gods.”

“Sofia, my love, you always throw the best parties,” I declared loudly as people applauded the raven-haired submissive on the floor. “And you always invite the best people!” I proclaimed. There was a general whooping from the enraptured guests. It was a cheap line but I know how to play a crowd. “This delightful creature, in particular, caught my eye…but she seems rather messy now, doesn’t she?”

Sofia followed my impromptu lead, reaching down and pulling the tail of the egg from the beautiful young woman on her hands and knees. She held it high above her head, leaning back, so everyone could see the creamy cum slither down the device and drip into her open mouth, like a Bacchanalian figure on a Greek vase gobbling grapes. “Shall I clean up her pussy too, Troy?” The crowd hooted again in assent. “Or would you like to fuck her?” she added to an even greater roar.

“Why not both, Sofia?!” The crowd were beside themselves now. “But I think we should ask the star of this show, no?”

I knelt on one knee, my fingertips on her chin, raising the face of this pretty girl to look up at me. Tenderly I touched my lips to her forehead, then, whispering low so people couldn’t hear, “You did so well. We can go back to our corner now if you wish. It’s your choice of course. I didn’t expect this to turn into a piece of theatre, but that’s Sofia for you,” I laughed gently.

Her mouth was open, still panting. And her eyes…frankly, she looked like a wild animal in heat. I raised my voice for the crowd to hear again. “Folks, I have just met this wonderful young woman this evening. And I have to say I am rather taken with her. However, as you all know, it is the submissive who has the power to gift themselves to the dominant.”

I could dimly hear the cries of agreement around the room but at this point my focus was entirely on this wonderful girl’s cum-drunk eyes.

She kept her gaze fixed on mine.

She reached back, grasping her dress at the hips, and yanked it up around her waist, fully exposing her toned ass and the fresh cum dripping from her cunt down her still shuddering legs. As the room erupted around us, she growled hoarsely:

“Sir. Fuck me. Make me yours.”