Robot Ponygirls
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Working Girl free porn video
Mine is an interesting line of work, one that I embraced as an extension to my sexuality, and believe it or not, my personal code of ethics.
If you are reading this, my first [ever] blog post it means that I have either viewed your profile and decided there is a match somewhere, or I have seen something on your page that interests me and invited you to join me.
One thing that I sometimes encounter is what I call "generic whore syndrome", the set of assumptions some people apply to 'sex workers', or even attractive women living their normal lives.
Some of the approaches on this website are polite, some not and this is something I see reflected in my daily life.
In me there is my working persona, and my personal side, just as there is for everybody else : I go out for coffee with friends, do the grocery run all of those things and like most women, I am sometimes approached and believe it or not that is the only thing that disturbs me.
I set the rules, and I do not like people inviting themselves into my garden ! But then there is the other side, which I'm sure is why everybody is reading this. The people I work with come from a broad range of backgrounds, and I have first met them in a variety of situations, and circumstances, but they have a few qualities in common.
They are sexually very adventurous, very polite, great fun as individuals and as a group, and always full of surprises, but most of all, the sex is the last thing that any of us think about or prioritise when we arrange a meeting. We just get together for some hours or a weekend, sometimes a few days and have fun.
A few months ago I spent a beautiful few days up the Alps as the guests of a lovely couple in their skiing lodge and we kept in touch, then a couple of weeks back the lady of the couple called me. " It's XXXX's birthday, I'm arranging the party and was wondering if you would like to be the desert ?" ... we discussed further, agreed terms, and the date was set. Innsbruck station is becoming a familiar place, the last time I was here it was a case of picking my way between the skiers and snowboarders to find a taxi, this time however, the experience was much calmer. Spring was in the air, and the evening was calm and beautiful. I had spent the train journey looking out of the window to avoid the inquisitive glances of the people around me whilst inwardly thinking "if these folks had any idea of what I am about to get up to it would blow their minds!"
Free of my travelling companions, I headed toward the exit to be greeted by an elegantly dressed driver with a sign bearing my [real] name. He guided me an equally elegant Porsche 4 x 4 and with my itunes connected to the bluetooth .. we headed majestically into the mountains. I recognised her face immediately from the winter party, Sarah, the hot little slut wife of one of the attendees ... dressed immaculately as always, we chilled out with a glass or two of bubbly as caterers ran to and fro preparing the place for the evening.
We were giggling as she went through the plan " hey lets go to the kitchen, and see what we have there".. No signs of chaos here, and against the far wall of the immaculately tiled room stood a trolley table, beautifully dressed and awaiting its centre-piece. We both knew of course what that centrepiece was going to be. As the sun headed towards the snow capped mountain tops, dusting them with flamingo, the birthday boy arrived with his wife. They are a beautiful couple, I am greeted with warm hugs and we catch up on the news from our respective lives over another glass of Laurent Perrier. We snuggle into a friendly knot of chatter as guests begin to arrive, and I am politely introduced. "how lovely to meet you, we have heard so much about you".
This may be an assignment, but I feel part of this group of friends despite having met only a handful of them previously. Gradually we drift over to the venue, a restored barn sitting slightly back from the property. Evidently the caterers have done a great job, and I pick at delicacies not wanting to eat too much, there will always be breakfast. Now this couple really know how to run a party, the music is a brilliant mix, and I'm soon dancing [my favourite pastime] with plenty of good company.
This is going very well, and I am getting hot ! You know that feeling when something takes on an energy all of it’s own ? The mix of the right people, in the right place for the right reasons has the quality of a thermal runaway. The sort of thing that happens to ones beloved macbook, in it’s expensive leather bag, usually at an airport … I digress. I feel a tiny vibration on my wrist, my “hookers watch” has snapped me from my state of trance, the alarm reminding me that I am here for a reason.
As if my magic, the hostess emerges from the throng bearing a small silver tray upon which are ten elegant shot glasses, obviously frozen, each holding a clear oily liquid slowly trying to climb the inner walls.
Raising one, I pick up an unmistakable aroma .. frozen Sambuca !!!
Obviously she has not forgotten what this stuff does to me. The shot glass and I regard each other for a moment, a transformation is about to take place. Downing the first shot, I was briefly transported back to my first visit a few short months ago.
That occasion was a winter party. As this was a weekend booking, it was obviously not a swingers party as such, but everybody there seemed open minded, and I sensed that if something started nobody would object. We all met up at a local ski bar, and later the select few came to the house s**ttering into various social groups. As the only lady of colour present in this winter landscape, I was getting plenty of attention. There was fresh snow, and as the evening went on the suggestion was that we all get together in the huge Jacuzzi, and one by one people started to make their way outside, including my chaperone. Daria, my friend's wife, kept me back saying that some girly time would be nice, and we hung out in the kitchen: we would join them later.. meanwhile into the Jacuzzi everyone went, champagne glasses in hand. She recalled to me later in an email :
“About 30 minutes later, Sarah appeared carrying some fresh toweling bath robes, I undressed, took one and left you two in the kitchen whilst I joined the fun in the hot tub, stroking a few cocks and generally winding everybody up. Of course after half an hour of this, I could see that the guys were as horny as hell as they stepped out to refill their glasses. A while later Sarah appeared, saying simply ... “hey guys you need to come and watch this !!” She led us to the staircase, where we saw the guys who had “left for a refill” standing on every second step wearing nothing, with you on your knees in front of my beloved with his big cock fully in the back of your throat you dirty slut. I knew at that moment that we had found the right girl for our parties ;-) You pulled off his engorged dick for a moment, smiled and blew me a kiss, licked the pre-cum out of his sperm hole looking me in the eye the whole time, then you breathed in, spat half a mouthful of saliva back onto his cock before sucking him with such force that his knees buckled, and I watched as you let my husband’s sperm run out of your mouth which ran in a stream down over your breasts. He slid slightly down the wall, and stepped away towards the Jacuzzi .. and the next guy came down one step. You were the perfect whore that night: dripping with sperm, waiting for the next guy to step down to be serviced, we just watched in awe as you milked them dry one after the other.
The next then the next, then the next. I remember Sarah joined you with a champagne glass to keep you refreshed, and get a better as you took one after another, bringing herself off standing right next to you. We all watched at the foot of the stairs, and I needed some of this action too ! I checked each hard cock in turn, slipping it into my mouth before wrapping the owners hand around the shaft while I sucked their balls, telling them firmly "don't you dare come yet" this party is just starting !! We watched as you calmly juiced 4 guys in 5 minutes, then you pretended to notice your fan club at the foot of the stairs "oh hi .. were you waiting for me?" you smiled so sweetly as if you has just been touching up you makeup in the bathroom [you bitch lol] before descended the stairs as if nothing has happened, wearing the same party top and leggings that you arrived in, except that you are now wearing the top around your waist, are covered in great puddles of sperm, and this has collected in your bra which was unhooked but not discarded. It would be fun to DNA test that one day ! Then your finest line "so where is the Jacuzzi? I feel a bit hot and sticky !!"
Glasses were filled, and one by one the spaces in the hot tub filled up, you obviously felt content within the group of ladies on our side of the pool. But you had lit their fires, all as hot as hell under the gently swirling water. Did you notice the moment when the idle chatter started to fall silent as they flirted and began to play with one another? One moment I saw you sat on the edge of the tub dangling your feet into the water. Four of my classy friends had paired off and were kissing each other passionately, but you probably didn’t notice as the other three of us were cleaning you from head to foot with our mouths and fingers, using you as an oasis, our plaything .. and you were loving every moment. Sarah, Janette, and I were giving you some serious attention,” J” was between your legs, Sarah and you were kissing deeply and passionately, and I was kneeling beside you teasing your breasts, with your fingers pushing into my cunt. I wanted to light you up, so as you may recall, I coated my finger with my own juice before sliding it deep into your ass. It had the desired effect … you came hard, so hard that you crushed my finger with your contractions. [There is no mistaking when I have an orgasm: I fall silent, my back arches and I squirt, it tastes as thick and fragrant as coconut milk .. every orgasm would fill an espresso cup. This is translucent white, rather like sperm, and as soon as I start having orgasms .. they don't stop.]
Payback time for the Alpine wives who milked you for the next ten minutes before turning their attention to the hard cocks of the various husbands around the pool. You were laid back .. oblivious and let the warm water massage every last bit of frustration away” That look: when one is observing somebody in a daydream and not wishing to interrupt, was what caught my eye, and instantly returned me to the room. ”Oh I am so sorry I was …” Daria gave me a knowing smile “yes I know where you were, come let’s take a walk”. I am always meticulous in my preparations when I am going to be center stage. It’s part of the transition into my working persona, and I like to take my time. This is usually a solitary affair as I shower, moisturize, sort out my hair and makeup, but this evening of course was different, a few of the girls had decided to help out.
Daria’s dressing room is a place that few women can ever dream of. As with the rest of the house, the theme is tastefully plain, with Italian marble floors accented with colourful artwork and sculptures. Leading from the master bedroom, is a lobby flanked on either side with mirrored wardrobe doors, but one’s eye is inevitably drawn to the baroque chaise-lounge resplendent in red, black and gold that sits enticingly at the far end, subtly accented with an art-deco painting of a brunette lady, in matching attire, obviously very close to orgasm. To the right, is the inset bath and walk in shower, to the left, a room full of lights, mirrors and trinket cupboards. All in all, a spacious if spectacular workspace. [note to self, I really must ask to do a photoshoot there!] While I am taking this all in, the ladies have taken my bag, and are setting out my lotions potions and props in this perfect setting.
A quick shot of Sambuca, and I excuse myself to prepare my body for what is likely to come, returning a few minutes later to find my helpers are already warming up the shower, or should I say “Douche Temple” An enema bottle bobs invitingly, warming in the wash basin. I do not so much walk into the shower but find myself subsumed into a steaming cloud of female bodies, breasts, and perfectly manicured hands, there is nothing for me to do except relinquish myself to the attention as every square centimeter of me is exfoliated, inspected, washed and massaged. Total bliss. Curiously it does not feel sexual, just overwhelmingly sensual, even as their attentions are turned to the innermost and intimate parts of my body. A warm water jet enters my vagina, instinctively, my muscles relax as I accept the gently pulsing volumes, and let the outflow pour down my legs. I feel weak at the knees with all of this attention, bend forward to be enveloped in a large firm pair of breasts adorned with hard nipples, her arms steadying and enveloping me. Instinctively I reach forward and return the embrace.
Two pairs of hands are continuing to slowly massage in unison from the top of my neck through my shoulders to my lower back, except this time, one pair of hands continues down onto my upper thighs, before returning to my buttocks and holding them gently apart. The water jet is slowly, gently, eased into my anus and I push out to accept it’s girth, Whoever is doing this is clearly experienced as she toys with my outer and then inner sphincter, gently popping and un-popping them both in a slow mesmerizing rhythm. I am re-entering my state of trance, as my body relaxes under this glorious attention. With the obstacles removed the shower probe pushes deeper, deeper still. Whilst trying to accept the volume of water being delivered into me, and briefly feel myself gripping the smooth plastic shaft, before realising that resistance is futile, and assisting the water with it’s task, drawing it in, before pushing it out to land with a loud splash upon the tiled floor. In the sheer joy of this release, I slide an erect nipple into my mouth, and slowly feel my knees begin to give way.
My breathing is so shallow, but so relaxed. It is as if I have been transported to another dimension, slowly I reopen my eyes and take in the unfamiliar view. A ceiling, soft white towels wrapped around my body: I am curled comfortably on the chaise-lounge. I shift slightly and run my fingers down my sides, instinctively taking in the curve of my ass, and running my fingertips into the crack … aha .. what’s this? Those bitches have installed my butt-plug … I suddenly laugh out loud to be met with a wave of laughter returning from the trinket room. “hey Jeanie .. Sambuca?” Once more the center of attention, I am gently unwrapped from the towels, slipped into a bathrobe and I stroll none to steadily towards the makeup area. First to check what I need to do: a practiced glace has me reaching for the bottle of Estee Lauder foundation, but it halts at half distance. There is no work to be done. The Alpine wives are about to deliver their whore, and the warm realisation that I have just been delivered in the most spectacular and loving fashion settles comfortably into my mind, and sends a shock wave through my body. The girls of course have taken the interlude as the opportunity to shimmy into something a little more revealing, but have one final task in mind. I use coconut oil for everything, and I always carry a good supply with me. One final gloss coat of this and I am ready for anything. As they help me to moisturize, I notice that about half the bottle seems to have evaporated. “Oh did you like the oil?” I casually enquire, “oh yes, it’s lovely but we didn’t use very much ourselves.”
Momentarily puzzled, I glance at the smiles and catch the empty enema bottle standing by the sink in the corner of my eye. Ah, these girls are hardcore. Once more the room fills with raucous laughter. Another shot is called for. I find that there is something very erotic about having one’s body decorated. You may have seen the very delicate tattoo work on my legs, which I love for the aesthetic, and adored having done. Then there was the photoshoot with body paint some of which are proudly displayed at home, but here we are in the “Stüble”: a large cool pantry area where the edible part of my evening has been delivered from the kitchen. This is going to be interesting: time to go into a state of torpor while the artistic types do their work, ah time to sink a couple more shots and away we go. Helped onto the serving tray, I take in the scene. This has obviously been made for purpose, an imposing stainless steel oval slightly longer than me height, sat atop the square frame of the wheeled table, a small plastic pad to support my head and hopefully keep my [expensive] Brazilian locks away from the desert!.
Nicely settled, the work begins.
How to dress a Harlot: ·
Apply shower cap to head of the Harlot, or she will bitch about the state of her hair ·
Soak liberally in Sherry or similar, whilst feeding the Harlot the occasional Sambuca. ·
Cover the eyes with finely cut cucumber slices to keep the Harlot fresh, and unable to see her surroundings ·
Do not permit the Harlot to smoke during the process due to fire risk. ·
Add two buckets of chocolate confectioner’s custard carefully to the presentation tray and level, wiping any spills from the tray edge, and the Harlot herself ·
Dress tray edge with cherries, kiwi slices, strawberries, and ice cream wafers ·
Working carefully from the edge of the platter, apply fondant in a contrasting colour in a series of intersecting diagonal stripes across the set custard, across the Harlot to finish neatly on the opposite side of the tray. ·
Infill each of the diamond shaped patterns with fruits, meringues, and chocolates of your choice.
Caution: do not overdress ! ·
Pre-cut and reassemble two large halved pineapples taking care to preserve foliage placing these between her parted legs
Well that seemed simple enough, and a mere 20 minutes later, a light tent like structure is placed over the table, and we are on our way. I can hear the party noise growing ever closer, then we stop, and the fabric opens slightly, it’s Daria. “you ok in there lovely?, I forgot something ” “yeh sure” I reply as she disappears behind me. She is back a minute later, I can’t see what she is holding, but moments later I’m sprayed and soaked by an ice cold liquid with special attention being paid to my breasts .. my nipples go haywire. I know that smell .. Vodka straight from the freezer aaaaaagh! I feel her finger teasing my pussy juices, I’m soaking wet. “Have fun baby … lets go”. From my cocoon, I can only see and sense changes in the ambient light, no shapes, shadows or forms, but my hearing is acute, and the first thing that I am aware of is the music changing from dance to gentle erotic jazz, and conversation becoming clearer. Daria’s voice : “Friends, good evening and thank you for coming to our birthday gathering … ” She is teasing the guests with innuendo, clearly setting the scene for a surprise and as her little speech drew to a close, a curtain drew back, and the cover lifted from the desert. Gripped with interest the voices grew closer, and polite compliments filled the room “nice dish, this looks hot!!”, meanwhile of course I had my role
If you are reading this, my first [ever] blog post it means that I have either viewed your profile and decided there is a match somewhere, or I have seen something on your page that interests me and invited you to join me.
One thing that I sometimes encounter is what I call "generic whore syndrome", the set of assumptions some people apply to 'sex workers', or even attractive women living their normal lives.
Some of the approaches on this website are polite, some not and this is something I see reflected in my daily life.
In me there is my working persona, and my personal side, just as there is for everybody else : I go out for coffee with friends, do the grocery run all of those things and like most women, I am sometimes approached and believe it or not that is the only thing that disturbs me.
I set the rules, and I do not like people inviting themselves into my garden ! But then there is the other side, which I'm sure is why everybody is reading this. The people I work with come from a broad range of backgrounds, and I have first met them in a variety of situations, and circumstances, but they have a few qualities in common.
They are sexually very adventurous, very polite, great fun as individuals and as a group, and always full of surprises, but most of all, the sex is the last thing that any of us think about or prioritise when we arrange a meeting. We just get together for some hours or a weekend, sometimes a few days and have fun.
A few months ago I spent a beautiful few days up the Alps as the guests of a lovely couple in their skiing lodge and we kept in touch, then a couple of weeks back the lady of the couple called me. " It's XXXX's birthday, I'm arranging the party and was wondering if you would like to be the desert ?" ... we discussed further, agreed terms, and the date was set. Innsbruck station is becoming a familiar place, the last time I was here it was a case of picking my way between the skiers and snowboarders to find a taxi, this time however, the experience was much calmer. Spring was in the air, and the evening was calm and beautiful. I had spent the train journey looking out of the window to avoid the inquisitive glances of the people around me whilst inwardly thinking "if these folks had any idea of what I am about to get up to it would blow their minds!"
Free of my travelling companions, I headed toward the exit to be greeted by an elegantly dressed driver with a sign bearing my [real] name. He guided me an equally elegant Porsche 4 x 4 and with my itunes connected to the bluetooth .. we headed majestically into the mountains. I recognised her face immediately from the winter party, Sarah, the hot little slut wife of one of the attendees ... dressed immaculately as always, we chilled out with a glass or two of bubbly as caterers ran to and fro preparing the place for the evening.
We were giggling as she went through the plan " hey lets go to the kitchen, and see what we have there".. No signs of chaos here, and against the far wall of the immaculately tiled room stood a trolley table, beautifully dressed and awaiting its centre-piece. We both knew of course what that centrepiece was going to be. As the sun headed towards the snow capped mountain tops, dusting them with flamingo, the birthday boy arrived with his wife. They are a beautiful couple, I am greeted with warm hugs and we catch up on the news from our respective lives over another glass of Laurent Perrier. We snuggle into a friendly knot of chatter as guests begin to arrive, and I am politely introduced. "how lovely to meet you, we have heard so much about you".
This may be an assignment, but I feel part of this group of friends despite having met only a handful of them previously. Gradually we drift over to the venue, a restored barn sitting slightly back from the property. Evidently the caterers have done a great job, and I pick at delicacies not wanting to eat too much, there will always be breakfast. Now this couple really know how to run a party, the music is a brilliant mix, and I'm soon dancing [my favourite pastime] with plenty of good company.
This is going very well, and I am getting hot ! You know that feeling when something takes on an energy all of it’s own ? The mix of the right people, in the right place for the right reasons has the quality of a thermal runaway. The sort of thing that happens to ones beloved macbook, in it’s expensive leather bag, usually at an airport … I digress. I feel a tiny vibration on my wrist, my “hookers watch” has snapped me from my state of trance, the alarm reminding me that I am here for a reason.
As if my magic, the hostess emerges from the throng bearing a small silver tray upon which are ten elegant shot glasses, obviously frozen, each holding a clear oily liquid slowly trying to climb the inner walls.
Raising one, I pick up an unmistakable aroma .. frozen Sambuca !!!
Obviously she has not forgotten what this stuff does to me. The shot glass and I regard each other for a moment, a transformation is about to take place. Downing the first shot, I was briefly transported back to my first visit a few short months ago.
That occasion was a winter party. As this was a weekend booking, it was obviously not a swingers party as such, but everybody there seemed open minded, and I sensed that if something started nobody would object. We all met up at a local ski bar, and later the select few came to the house s**ttering into various social groups. As the only lady of colour present in this winter landscape, I was getting plenty of attention. There was fresh snow, and as the evening went on the suggestion was that we all get together in the huge Jacuzzi, and one by one people started to make their way outside, including my chaperone. Daria, my friend's wife, kept me back saying that some girly time would be nice, and we hung out in the kitchen: we would join them later.. meanwhile into the Jacuzzi everyone went, champagne glasses in hand. She recalled to me later in an email :
“About 30 minutes later, Sarah appeared carrying some fresh toweling bath robes, I undressed, took one and left you two in the kitchen whilst I joined the fun in the hot tub, stroking a few cocks and generally winding everybody up. Of course after half an hour of this, I could see that the guys were as horny as hell as they stepped out to refill their glasses. A while later Sarah appeared, saying simply ... “hey guys you need to come and watch this !!” She led us to the staircase, where we saw the guys who had “left for a refill” standing on every second step wearing nothing, with you on your knees in front of my beloved with his big cock fully in the back of your throat you dirty slut. I knew at that moment that we had found the right girl for our parties ;-) You pulled off his engorged dick for a moment, smiled and blew me a kiss, licked the pre-cum out of his sperm hole looking me in the eye the whole time, then you breathed in, spat half a mouthful of saliva back onto his cock before sucking him with such force that his knees buckled, and I watched as you let my husband’s sperm run out of your mouth which ran in a stream down over your breasts. He slid slightly down the wall, and stepped away towards the Jacuzzi .. and the next guy came down one step. You were the perfect whore that night: dripping with sperm, waiting for the next guy to step down to be serviced, we just watched in awe as you milked them dry one after the other.
The next then the next, then the next. I remember Sarah joined you with a champagne glass to keep you refreshed, and get a better as you took one after another, bringing herself off standing right next to you. We all watched at the foot of the stairs, and I needed some of this action too ! I checked each hard cock in turn, slipping it into my mouth before wrapping the owners hand around the shaft while I sucked their balls, telling them firmly "don't you dare come yet" this party is just starting !! We watched as you calmly juiced 4 guys in 5 minutes, then you pretended to notice your fan club at the foot of the stairs "oh hi .. were you waiting for me?" you smiled so sweetly as if you has just been touching up you makeup in the bathroom [you bitch lol] before descended the stairs as if nothing has happened, wearing the same party top and leggings that you arrived in, except that you are now wearing the top around your waist, are covered in great puddles of sperm, and this has collected in your bra which was unhooked but not discarded. It would be fun to DNA test that one day ! Then your finest line "so where is the Jacuzzi? I feel a bit hot and sticky !!"
Glasses were filled, and one by one the spaces in the hot tub filled up, you obviously felt content within the group of ladies on our side of the pool. But you had lit their fires, all as hot as hell under the gently swirling water. Did you notice the moment when the idle chatter started to fall silent as they flirted and began to play with one another? One moment I saw you sat on the edge of the tub dangling your feet into the water. Four of my classy friends had paired off and were kissing each other passionately, but you probably didn’t notice as the other three of us were cleaning you from head to foot with our mouths and fingers, using you as an oasis, our plaything .. and you were loving every moment. Sarah, Janette, and I were giving you some serious attention,” J” was between your legs, Sarah and you were kissing deeply and passionately, and I was kneeling beside you teasing your breasts, with your fingers pushing into my cunt. I wanted to light you up, so as you may recall, I coated my finger with my own juice before sliding it deep into your ass. It had the desired effect … you came hard, so hard that you crushed my finger with your contractions. [There is no mistaking when I have an orgasm: I fall silent, my back arches and I squirt, it tastes as thick and fragrant as coconut milk .. every orgasm would fill an espresso cup. This is translucent white, rather like sperm, and as soon as I start having orgasms .. they don't stop.]
Payback time for the Alpine wives who milked you for the next ten minutes before turning their attention to the hard cocks of the various husbands around the pool. You were laid back .. oblivious and let the warm water massage every last bit of frustration away” That look: when one is observing somebody in a daydream and not wishing to interrupt, was what caught my eye, and instantly returned me to the room. ”Oh I am so sorry I was …” Daria gave me a knowing smile “yes I know where you were, come let’s take a walk”. I am always meticulous in my preparations when I am going to be center stage. It’s part of the transition into my working persona, and I like to take my time. This is usually a solitary affair as I shower, moisturize, sort out my hair and makeup, but this evening of course was different, a few of the girls had decided to help out.
Daria’s dressing room is a place that few women can ever dream of. As with the rest of the house, the theme is tastefully plain, with Italian marble floors accented with colourful artwork and sculptures. Leading from the master bedroom, is a lobby flanked on either side with mirrored wardrobe doors, but one’s eye is inevitably drawn to the baroque chaise-lounge resplendent in red, black and gold that sits enticingly at the far end, subtly accented with an art-deco painting of a brunette lady, in matching attire, obviously very close to orgasm. To the right, is the inset bath and walk in shower, to the left, a room full of lights, mirrors and trinket cupboards. All in all, a spacious if spectacular workspace. [note to self, I really must ask to do a photoshoot there!] While I am taking this all in, the ladies have taken my bag, and are setting out my lotions potions and props in this perfect setting.
A quick shot of Sambuca, and I excuse myself to prepare my body for what is likely to come, returning a few minutes later to find my helpers are already warming up the shower, or should I say “Douche Temple” An enema bottle bobs invitingly, warming in the wash basin. I do not so much walk into the shower but find myself subsumed into a steaming cloud of female bodies, breasts, and perfectly manicured hands, there is nothing for me to do except relinquish myself to the attention as every square centimeter of me is exfoliated, inspected, washed and massaged. Total bliss. Curiously it does not feel sexual, just overwhelmingly sensual, even as their attentions are turned to the innermost and intimate parts of my body. A warm water jet enters my vagina, instinctively, my muscles relax as I accept the gently pulsing volumes, and let the outflow pour down my legs. I feel weak at the knees with all of this attention, bend forward to be enveloped in a large firm pair of breasts adorned with hard nipples, her arms steadying and enveloping me. Instinctively I reach forward and return the embrace.
Two pairs of hands are continuing to slowly massage in unison from the top of my neck through my shoulders to my lower back, except this time, one pair of hands continues down onto my upper thighs, before returning to my buttocks and holding them gently apart. The water jet is slowly, gently, eased into my anus and I push out to accept it’s girth, Whoever is doing this is clearly experienced as she toys with my outer and then inner sphincter, gently popping and un-popping them both in a slow mesmerizing rhythm. I am re-entering my state of trance, as my body relaxes under this glorious attention. With the obstacles removed the shower probe pushes deeper, deeper still. Whilst trying to accept the volume of water being delivered into me, and briefly feel myself gripping the smooth plastic shaft, before realising that resistance is futile, and assisting the water with it’s task, drawing it in, before pushing it out to land with a loud splash upon the tiled floor. In the sheer joy of this release, I slide an erect nipple into my mouth, and slowly feel my knees begin to give way.
My breathing is so shallow, but so relaxed. It is as if I have been transported to another dimension, slowly I reopen my eyes and take in the unfamiliar view. A ceiling, soft white towels wrapped around my body: I am curled comfortably on the chaise-lounge. I shift slightly and run my fingers down my sides, instinctively taking in the curve of my ass, and running my fingertips into the crack … aha .. what’s this? Those bitches have installed my butt-plug … I suddenly laugh out loud to be met with a wave of laughter returning from the trinket room. “hey Jeanie .. Sambuca?” Once more the center of attention, I am gently unwrapped from the towels, slipped into a bathrobe and I stroll none to steadily towards the makeup area. First to check what I need to do: a practiced glace has me reaching for the bottle of Estee Lauder foundation, but it halts at half distance. There is no work to be done. The Alpine wives are about to deliver their whore, and the warm realisation that I have just been delivered in the most spectacular and loving fashion settles comfortably into my mind, and sends a shock wave through my body. The girls of course have taken the interlude as the opportunity to shimmy into something a little more revealing, but have one final task in mind. I use coconut oil for everything, and I always carry a good supply with me. One final gloss coat of this and I am ready for anything. As they help me to moisturize, I notice that about half the bottle seems to have evaporated. “Oh did you like the oil?” I casually enquire, “oh yes, it’s lovely but we didn’t use very much ourselves.”
Momentarily puzzled, I glance at the smiles and catch the empty enema bottle standing by the sink in the corner of my eye. Ah, these girls are hardcore. Once more the room fills with raucous laughter. Another shot is called for. I find that there is something very erotic about having one’s body decorated. You may have seen the very delicate tattoo work on my legs, which I love for the aesthetic, and adored having done. Then there was the photoshoot with body paint some of which are proudly displayed at home, but here we are in the “Stüble”: a large cool pantry area where the edible part of my evening has been delivered from the kitchen. This is going to be interesting: time to go into a state of torpor while the artistic types do their work, ah time to sink a couple more shots and away we go. Helped onto the serving tray, I take in the scene. This has obviously been made for purpose, an imposing stainless steel oval slightly longer than me height, sat atop the square frame of the wheeled table, a small plastic pad to support my head and hopefully keep my [expensive] Brazilian locks away from the desert!.
Nicely settled, the work begins.
How to dress a Harlot: ·
Apply shower cap to head of the Harlot, or she will bitch about the state of her hair ·
Soak liberally in Sherry or similar, whilst feeding the Harlot the occasional Sambuca. ·
Cover the eyes with finely cut cucumber slices to keep the Harlot fresh, and unable to see her surroundings ·
Do not permit the Harlot to smoke during the process due to fire risk. ·
Add two buckets of chocolate confectioner’s custard carefully to the presentation tray and level, wiping any spills from the tray edge, and the Harlot herself ·
Dress tray edge with cherries, kiwi slices, strawberries, and ice cream wafers ·
Working carefully from the edge of the platter, apply fondant in a contrasting colour in a series of intersecting diagonal stripes across the set custard, across the Harlot to finish neatly on the opposite side of the tray. ·
Infill each of the diamond shaped patterns with fruits, meringues, and chocolates of your choice.
Caution: do not overdress ! ·
Pre-cut and reassemble two large halved pineapples taking care to preserve foliage placing these between her parted legs
Well that seemed simple enough, and a mere 20 minutes later, a light tent like structure is placed over the table, and we are on our way. I can hear the party noise growing ever closer, then we stop, and the fabric opens slightly, it’s Daria. “you ok in there lovely?, I forgot something ” “yeh sure” I reply as she disappears behind me. She is back a minute later, I can’t see what she is holding, but moments later I’m sprayed and soaked by an ice cold liquid with special attention being paid to my breasts .. my nipples go haywire. I know that smell .. Vodka straight from the freezer aaaaaagh! I feel her finger teasing my pussy juices, I’m soaking wet. “Have fun baby … lets go”. From my cocoon, I can only see and sense changes in the ambient light, no shapes, shadows or forms, but my hearing is acute, and the first thing that I am aware of is the music changing from dance to gentle erotic jazz, and conversation becoming clearer. Daria’s voice : “Friends, good evening and thank you for coming to our birthday gathering … ” She is teasing the guests with innuendo, clearly setting the scene for a surprise and as her little speech drew to a close, a curtain drew back, and the cover lifted from the desert. Gripped with interest the voices grew closer, and polite compliments filled the room “nice dish, this looks hot!!”, meanwhile of course I had my role
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