Archive for mmmmf

Dinner Party

Posted in Fiction with tags , , on August 1, 2009 by scarlettbottom

We’re at a restaurant. Me and my dates. I’m sitting in the middle of a horseshoe shaped booth, two men on either side of me. This is my fourth glass of wine.

The fellow sitting to my right asks me at a whisper if I wouldn’t mind, you know, playing with him a little bit. The tablecloth is long after all, and no one can see. I don’t mind, of course. I’m not very subtle though, and after a few seconds the other guys at the table have caught on. I watch them, grinning, exchanging sly glances across the table. Not only is this a girl who goes out with several men at once, this is a girl who might give a handjob in public. In a well-lit restaurant, no less.

The man to my left: “You’ve dropped your napkin.” Wink.

“Oh, so I have. Thank you.” Glancing around for the waitress, I slide under the table. My, these gentlemen are an excited bunch. Unzipping the pants of the man to my left, I take out his cock and begin stroking it to full hardness with my hand while rubbing his neighbor through his slacks. I can hear their muffled conversation and nervous laughter. I’m smiling as I slide a third cock into my mouth, and wrap my fingers around the fourth.

Oh, here’s the waitress. She wants to know if we want dessert. I tap the thigh of my man who belongs to the cock in my mouth. Yes, I certainly do want dessert. He asks for the menu. Another man passes a menu to me under the table. I read it out of the corner of my eye, running my tongue around the head of another delicious cock. Making my selection, I place the menu in my seat, finger on my choice, the fingers of my other hand on something equally delicious.

Above the table, the tension is building. The men shift uncomfortably in their seats. The waitress returns.

“A cherry clafoutis for the lady.” “Certainly.”

The man I’m currently serving reaches under the table and caresses my breast for a moment, lifting it out of my low cut dress. Another man holds my hand tightly, while I bring him to the edge. This is a calculated enterprise; none of these men will be satisfied until I have had dessert. First things first.

Arranging my hair and my dress, I reappear in my seat, wiping my mouth with my errant napkin. As I reapply my lipstick, my dessert arrives.



Posted in Fiction with tags , , , on June 30, 2009 by scarlettbottom

Many of the bdsm blogs that I read are written by people who are in “lifestyle” bdsm relationships. They live their (dominant or submissive) role 24/7, and very likely they live with their partner. I think a relationship like that sounds idyllic. I would love to be a stay-at-home wife/sub.

The primary thing that appeals to me about that situation is the extremely structured gender roles. Now, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a biologically male person filling the masculine role and vice versa, but regardless of the sex of the individuals involved, the hard and fast gender rules are still in place.

Styrn suggested we have a game night. Like inviting a bunch of people over to play cards and serving little snacks. Maybe have a movie on in the background. I immediately thought, “That sounds like something out of Mad Men” and a serious throwback to the 1950s/early 60s. The little wife in the kitchen making tiny, perfect little morsels and pouring drinks, serving them to her husband’s guests. Maybe the card players are smoking cigarettes. They probably ignore the wife after a thank you and a nod. Sitting around the table, I imagine that the testosterone is palpable, and as pervasive as the cigarette smoke.

This scene reminds me of a story I read a very long time ago. I think the “little girl” comparison is pretty inevitable when it comes to female submissives. In this story, Baby comes down the stairs to find her daddy; he’s playing poker with his buddies. Daddy’s friends fuck Baby on the poker table, sweeping chips out of the way, cards scattered everywhere. I find the chaos of the scene utterly romantic.

So does the wife sit on her husband’s knee while he plays? Does he shoo her out of the room? Does she eavesdrop? Maybe she waits on her knees for her next command, or maybe her elbows are bound behind her back and all she can do is hold the serving tray…