Best Served Cold2 A Dish Served Cold
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Best Served Cold - Chapter 12, Dirty Little Whore free porn video
Linda motioned to Johnny to follow us as we left the bar. He walked between us, nervous but hopeful, unable to escape the unending, seductive lure of Linda's big brown eyes on him. We arrived at the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Once the three of us were inside, Linda touched the glowing button, the doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent...
As I reached for the button above it, she stopped me and shook her head just once, flashing me a quick, private smile. When the doors opened, she turned to Johnny, pressed her hand against the front of his pants, and gave his cock a squeeze. Then, in the cruelest finish of false promises, she told him, "Oh, Johnny, I'm afraid that would never be enough for me tonight. But as you told me there in the cafe that day, 'maybe some other time, then?'" She pushed gently against his chest until he backed out through the doors, they closed again, and the elevator continued on to the floor and room where she had craved Michael's cock on that infamous night, three years ago.
***
"So, this is it. The room where you 'almost' fucked him? Does it look the same?" I asked. She ignored the room's contents, and my question, still living her part from our booth downstairs.
"So, I came here to let you use me like you always do - unless you really wanted Johnny to come with us. I thought for a second you had decided to let him fuck me after you were done with me. But then you'd probably want pictures of me again to show all your 'people'. You almost gave us away there in the elevator.
"Nah - just a last minute reflex to pick the right floor. The poor kid was out of his depth anyway. Besides, he'd never be able to satisfy a little slut like you. I know better - it's why you come to me for cock instead of your husband. I keep wondering if he knows what a little slut you are though. My guess is, he does, but he's too afraid to do anything about it. Fuck, he really doesn't know what he's missing."
Linda stood waiting under the small, recessed ceiling light just inside the door. The rest of the room lay in darkness, and she appeared to be purposefully placed on display in the cone of light. I took a seat and stared, making her wait. She unbuttoned her jacket, let her eyes drift closed, and lifted her chin a little into the light with both hands on her hips, posing there like some disciplined office priss turned X-rated diva. The play lived on.
"Take off your clothes. I want to see you."
Her posture changed immediately from 'proud' to 'accommodating'.
"Yes, Sir. Whatever you want, Sir," she said, her voice now submissively demure as she lowered her eyes to mine.
She removed her glasses, bent her knees, and lowered herself gracefully to place them on the floor beside her. The jacket was next, shrugged from her shoulders and lowered to the floor as well, folded, just as I imagined she had done for Michael. After wriggling it over her hips and thighs, the skirt fell to the carpet in a dark, discarded circle around her ankles. She stepped out of the scant puddle of material and kicked it aside.
"Keep the heels on," I ordered. "Turn around, slowly. Show me everything."
Again I imagined how she must have looked to Michael that night as she pivoted so slowly on those heels and offered her body to him. He must have seen the same mix of hunger and submission in her eyes, the same willing display of breasts, ass, legs and pussy, the same hint of glistening liquid seeping from between her swelling labia. I wondered how he could have controlled his lingering desire for her, how he managed to refrain from putting her on the bed and fucking her until her screams could be heard throughout the hotel.
"Do you like showing off? Seeing men drool over your naked body?" I asked.
"Always, but especially for you."
"Do you do it so they'll fuck you?"
"Sometimes. When I can find a man I want to fuck."
"Or maybe it's just because you like seeing them get hard before you send them slinking away in frustration."
"Sometimes that, too," she replied, now eyeing me hungrily.
"Like you treated your Johnny tonight?"
"I'm sure he'll live. He got his show. He wouldn't touch me. He wasn't worthy. Besides, I've told you, I belong to you tonight. All of me - inside and out."
"Then show me. Turn around and bend over. Spread your legs. You have to give up everything to me, if you're worthy yourself."
"Yes, Sir," she replied softly, her voice submissive once again.
I was stunned at first sight. I had never seen Linda hold this pose or position before. It excited me; yet, I couldn't fend off a degree of sympathy at seeing my wife made to humiliate herself, even though I was her only spectator, and for the night, her self-chosen Master. But it was her fantasy, and part of her plan to dispose of the last remaining dregs of agony suffered here years ago. I knew what she expected - her plan was to give me one final chance to step into her fantasies as a convincing 'Master'. The pleading look on her face assured me what she now needed was more than a hopeful imitation. Her eyes dispatched the fervent message as a hungry demand. It was time to man up.
I walked to her, opened my slacks, freed my erection into the light, and slid it into her without a word. Her pussy was slick and sopping wet, and I entered her easily and swiftly. Still, it surprised her; I heard her grunt softly and felt her body react with a sudden, slight lurch forward. I held fast there, buried deeply inside her, holding her hips tightly against me with both hands. I could feel the regular contractions within her belly beckoning for the thrusting she craved, but I withheld it, testing the limits of her frustration.
It was a difficult position for her to hold, bent at the waist, her palms digging into her thighs. The rhythm of her breathing became more irregular, and its pace and depth increased. I was unsure whether it was the result of my stubbornly motionless cock, or the surrender of her body's ability to sustain the tiring pose. But I wanted her words. I knew she would beg, and as her fantasy-master, I needed to hear it.
"P-please, Sir - why won't you - fuck me? I - did everything - you wanted. Why?"
"You said your pussy belongs to me," I reminded her. "Were you just teasing me like you teased Johnny tonight? Was it a lie?"
"No, no - it's all for you. All of it! All of me!"
"Then if I own it, you can't complain about how I use it. If what you say is true, I can use it any way I want, can't I?"
"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir. You can keep your cock in me forever. I do want it - all of it. Please forgive me for being so selfish?"
Again she stunned me - I had never heard her beg so mercilessly, or lower herself with such abject groveling to belong to a man, solely for his cock. This is what her sessions with Jordan must have resembled; I could imagine her helpless, naked body at his mercy, a starving supplicant at his feet, always willing to give up everything she was, craving the orgasms he denied her. And now she was reliving it willingly, promoting me, her husband, to the only master she could rely on for relief. But it was only after keeping her final reward tantalizingly out of reach that she begged sufficiently for my acquiescence.
I withdrew from her and stood her upright, facing me. I noticed her chin quiver, but her eyes told me she needed much more than I had given her. How could she suddenly have made herself seem so small, so vulnerable, so fragile? It was as though the proud, confident outer skin of the woman she had become was shed, exposing a raw, defenseless core of compliant surrender. My reaction was a heady mix of bewilderment and eroticism.
I placed my hands on her shoulders, then ran them slowly over her body, pausing under her breasts to lift and palm them, then trailed them lower over her shivering belly to her pussy. She parted her legs instinctively to let me in, and I pushed two fingers inside, cushioning her clit between them. She gasped, lost her footing a little, and found it again with her feet planted another foot apart. She was dripping wet.
"I'm curious," I told her. "What is it you really want tonight? Oh, I know you want to cum, but how, exactly? Tell me what this tight little pussy is begging for tonight. Something very nasty, I'll bet."
I took her face in my hands as she considered her answer, tilting her head up and turning it from side to side as one might examine prize breeding stock. Her eyes were wild with expectation, portals forced open to expose hints of secrets held at unknowable depths. If only I could have lowered a light to the bottom of that well.
"There - on the bed - I'll show you," she promised, her voice a nervous quaver of lust and feigned reservation.
"Then show me," I ordered. "I like little whores who aren't afraid to show me how constantly hungry for cock they really are."
Linda blanched at first when she heard the word - I imagined she never thought I'd go so far as to call her a 'whore'. But then I caught her brief smile a second later, one of perverse satisfaction that I would dare to use it. When she moved toward the bed, I stopped her.
"Not like that. You have to show me you're worthy, remember?" I didn't have to remind her she had used the same word with Johnny only an hour before. She raised her eyebrows and almost succeeded in holding back a fleeting smile.
I retrieved a terrycloth sash from one of the hotel robes, stretching it between my fists as I approached her. Linda eyed it cautiously, taking a step back as I came closer.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, pretending it may be something more depraved than she was willing to suffer.
"Turn around," I ordered. When she obeyed, I pulled her arms behind her back and looped the sash around her wrists, tying it in a loose knot.
"I want you on your knees, here, in front of me."
She knelt slowly, carefully, showing a willing deference meant to amplify her submission.
"If you want my cock, you'll have to work to get to it. If you're worthy, you'll show me how much you want it."
"But, my hands..." she began. It was then she understood. Pulling the stiff leather of the belt through the buckle and the loops of my pants was the hardest. It was soaked with saliva by the time she finished, and she left a series of indentations along the edges where she had gnawed and tugged at it with her teeth. She crushed her face against me as she fought for the zipper, finally capturing it between her teeth and pulling it open. I watched in amazement as she worked my pants over my hips and down my legs, her hair whipping and slashing from side to side like some crazed animal in heat. Her determination and energy seemed limitless, and she was flushed and breathless when she finally freed my cock.
It was then she looked up at me with the face of a little girl, shaking me with her next words.
"Was I a good girl for you? Did I do everything right? Will you fuck me now, please?"
Her voice was higher pitched and fearful, as though she might be punished for failing to accomplish an almost impossible task in the expected time or fashion. I froze there, letting my part in the play fall away, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of sympathy for when Jordan had first made her his slave. Had she really been so willing at the start, or had he taken advantage of her girlish innocence, gradually corrupting it with his own selfish fetishes? I reached out and helped her to her feet. She could see through me when I took her face in my hands again, and she frowned at me.
"Don't David - you're fucking everything up. I'm your whore, not you're boring little wife tonight. You have to own me! You have to use me like your whore and make me beg for it! Until now, everything was just so, right..."
Her disappointment spread through the room like a cloud of poison. She was frozen there, staring at me, her face still gently cradled in my hands. I began to question whether I could play Jordan's equal, even if just for a night, but I was determined to make this work, anyway she wanted it. If only she wasn't so, fucking, beautiful...
"Get on your knees and suck my cock. And do it like you'll never have another one."
She sank to her knees immediately and opened her mouth, anxiously looking up at me.
"Well, are you waiting for me to feed it to you?" I asked impatiently.
She leaned forward, her hands still secured behind her back, certain she could capture my cock-head between her lips. She looked puzzled when I moved an inch to one side, denying her her prize. She inched closer, craning her neck to reach it, and I shifted to my other foot, making it bob in the opposite direction. It was then she looked up at me, narrowed her eyes, and gave me her evil grin. I didn't have to ask if I had turned my mistake around.
"You're not very good at this, are you?" I commented after a few minutes of easily dodging her yawning, hungry mouth. "Have you ever sucked a cock before? Maybe you need lessons..."
"I'm so sorry, Sir," she offered. I'll try harder, I promise."
"Never mind. I'm just not used to girls with so little talent. Here, I'll put it in for you. But you don't get any cum this time. Maybe with more practice..."
"But Sir, I've waited all night for your cum. Please let me try again?"
"Just try to suck me for a while. You'll get plenty later."
To say she wasn't talented would have been an outrageous lie. Linda knew my cock as well as her own pussy, and she had her little tricks to either edge me on forever, or have me gushing like a geyser in minutes. Still, I tried to look bored while she used them all, never quite sure if I could outlast her very talented mouth. I managed, but not by much.
When I couldn't hold out any longer, I ordered her onto the bed. She sat on the edge with her hands tied behind her, looking like a very used, but still willing waif who would eagerly fuck for her dinner.
"How do you want me?" she asked.
"Without the heels," I told her. "Let me have them." I passed my fingers lightly over her feet and toes as I removed them, then massaged her feet to see her reaction. She drew a deep breath and let her head fall back, savoring the brief kindness.
"Lie back. Spread your legs like a good whore."
Her movements were tentative and careful, as though she might be punished if she didn't exceed my slightest expectation. When I climbed between her legs, put my mouth against her pussy, and pressed my tongue firmly against her clit, she moaned as though her relief was guaranteed.
"Well, now we see your true talent. At least you can moan like a whore. I think you're at your best when you're doing it. Shall we try again?"
She did her best to prove me right when I attacked her clit a second time, but not before I lapped at the juicy center of her sex, feeling her hips rise to press repeatedly against my mouth. When I finally sucked her clit gently between my lips, her body shuddered, and my reward chased the final remnants of poison from the room.
"Sssss - fuck, David - fuck fuck fuck..."
"Is that an order or a request from my little whore," I asked, peering from between her legs, up over her rutting mound.
"I - I don't know what you want me to say. Tell me and I'll say it. I just want - "
"I know, I know. My little whore wants my cock in her, but I haven't heard her tell me where yet."
"Fuck, David - how many times do I have to tell you? You own all of me. Put your cock anywhere. I'm yours. My entire fucking body is yours!"
"True, true, my little whore. But I wonder if you truly mean it? Get on you belly with your ass in the air. Maybe I'll take you in every hole. Would you like that?"
She scrambled up onto the bed with my help, balanced on her knees, then dropped her head and shoulders to the pillow. Her wrists remained tied behind her back, leaving her perfect ass and pussy elevated and intentionally surrendered for any use I might enjoy.
I lay down on the bed beside her, my face inches from hers, staring into the depths of her eyes. Neither of us said a word for minutes. I tried to mine a clue from those depths, to know what kind of cruelty she needed, or whether that was what she really needed at all. It was all there on her face, in her eyes - fear, desperation, and an overwhelming craving to be taken and used. She was trembling, possessed by her returning obsession, hopeful, no, demanding that I give life to it and deliver the final moments of feral release. She didn't need words to convince me that sustaining our play was everything to her in those quiet minutes. When her patience had finally worn thin, she ended our retreat and broke the silence.
"Don't tell me what hole you want, David. I don't want to know until you're in me. Will you do that? Will you fuck me like your little whore? If you torture me like Jordan did I'm not sure I could bear the suffering; I was so desperate to cum that I became his whore. Is that what you want, David? To make me your whore? Because I'll do it, but only for you, to be owned only by you. Just cum in me, then let me cum too? Please? I'm begging you."
"You really should learn not to reveal your needs so easily, my toy. Torturing you by withholding them, making you more and more desperate for relief, gets me even harder for your little cunt, and for all the other holes you're offering me. Make you my little whore? I believe you already are. The only thing you haven't done is prove to me with your body that you rabidly embrace it."
"Then what more can I do? How much more of me do you want? Just use me. Please - just use me. Use my body until there's nothing left to use."
I entered her from behind, slipping into her gaping pussy slowly, an inch at a time, then retreating quickly, without a pause. I'm not sure how deeply I pushed inside her each time she began to moan - three inches, or maybe four, but I'd always stop short of burying myself in her and pause, relishing the tight fist in her belly that let me know she craved to be filled. When I finally gave it, she took all of my cock greedily, struggling to free her hands, growling as she managed to thrust her hips against me to savor the full length and breadth of it inside her.
When her moans began to die, I grasped the dark shock of hair at the back of her head and pummeled into her recklessly, fiercely, using the reins of hair to restrain her, reminding her that she would be ridden to her limits by her Master. Regular, forceful gasps escaped into the room's wary shadows each time I plunged into her, and I could hear her whisper, "yes! - yes! - yes!" as I pulled the reins tighter.
She cried out in pain when I edged the head of my cock into her ass. I stopped and withdrew quickly, gently letting her head and shoulders fall back onto the pillow.
"You can have my ass, David. Get the lube. It's in my overnight bag. I want you to have all of me. But hurry - please? Please hurry. I'm want to cum with you in me."
I climbed back on the bed after an almost comical, feverish search through her jumbled collection of cosmetics for the container of lube. In my frantic rush back to bed, I marveled that she had managed to plan every possible act of our little play. When I entered her again, greased to the hilt, she groaned and lifted her ass higher to let me in. "Ohhh, David - it's good now - sooo good - you can have me there - take me there, fuck me - I want all of you in me..."
After three full strokes, I reached between her legs and ran my finger firmly along her clit, just once. Her convulsing sphincter cinched tightly around me as she came, and I spewed everything I had into her bowels. We orgasmed together at the exact moment, and it seemed to go on and on, the two of us locked together in a relentless cycle of jerking spasms that refused to release us. I imagined filling her with semen until her belly was extended and round with it, and her cries were never ending. "Oh my fucking God, David - fuck me - fuckfuckfuuuuck..."
We lay together afterward, limp, wet, and too exhausted for words. As my pounding heart recovered and my breathing slowed, all I could think about was whether I had given her enough of what she needed, enough of what she had imagined the night would be. I wondered how many times she had returned for more of Jordan's humiliation and torture, and whether her occasional thirst for it could ever be quenched, even if just for an hour, by a loving husband.
"Did you like it, David? Taking me like your whore?" she asked quietly as we lay there in the dark.
"I should be asking you that," I answered. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"David, it was everything I wanted tonight, even more than I thought you might agree to. But I wanted you to have this night too, to remember us together here instead of 'Stephan' and me. The nights were nothing alike, in spite of what you may have imagined. This is the one I want to remember. I want you to as well."
She put her leg over me and snuggled against me as though she couldn't get close enough. I was, well, contented, I suppose, my spirits lifted by the great sex, and by a better understanding and acceptance of Linda's darker appetites. There was also a selfish satisfaction that I could free her darker side so men like Jordan weren't her only refuge when it rose to haunt her. But it still unnerved me a little too, that the woman Linda had become over the past several years, my svelte, confident, panther-like beauty, could recast herself so easily and completely as the submissive little girl I had met so intimately for the first time that night.
Linda woke me in the middle of the night, and we made love gently but passionately as we had so many times in our own bed. But there were also fleeting moments when her Master's voice urged her on, and her little girl cried out to me, begging me to make her mine. I wondered if the night would finally become an actualized addition to our fantasy-fucking on those nights when making love wasn't enough for her. I only knew I was both comforted and intoxicated by my newfound ability to become a celebrated player in her darkest fantasies.
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