The Apartment
Chapter 2
Then Bobbi served him dinner. She was completely nude and clearly painfully eager to please. She opened him the bottle of wine and poured. He did his taste test by swirling the wine in the glass, then spilling a bit on one of Bobbi’s nipples. Then he licked it off. If only he would lick my breast like that, I’d be done.
He pronounced it good and a flushed Bobbi poured him a glass which he drank while he ate his salad. There was soup, fresh baked bread, then a steak with sautéed mushrooms and onions. There was also a potato. With the wine, he had a beer, a soft drink and a glass of water as well.
When the steak was served, Bobbi asked, “May I eat?”
He nodded and she brought around a small square stool and placed it near his left hand, between the man and the kitchen so she could get up quickly to serve. She placed what looked like a dog bowl on the flat platform of the stool. Then she got down on all fours and positioned like his obedient dog, began to eat from the bowl with just her mouth. He petted her head a few times as he ate his steak. I knew he took breaks as he chewed to stare at me and enjoy the view. Every time he looked, I knew my body flushed again.
I could feel the desire within to be his obedient dog and get a pat on the head.
“Wait, that is so wrong, I’m a strong independent woman, not an obedient dog for Master? Why do I want him to pat me on the head?” I thought while I knew other parts wanted him to touch them even more urgently.
Bobbi was done and had cleared up her place by the time he was done with his steak. She served him fresh baked pie for desert. When he was done he got up and said, “Very good dinner slave. Well done. Now clean up.” Then turning to me he waved a finger and said, “Completely nude, hanger and fed.”
Then he went to the bedroom.
My remaining clothes quickly came off and my other items, which had been left on the floor, were all were placed on a single hanger in the coat closet like Bobbi’s. A stool like Bobbi had used was placed in the living room and a dog bowl of food was placed on it. Bobbi showed me how to go on all fours to eat, with my rear end facing the bedroom door so if he came out while I was eating, my rear and flower would be on display. Even in this position, I remembered to keep my back arched, my rear had to make it’s best possible display. I ate the food in the bowl with my mouth only, it was quinoa and brown rice, with a bit of chicken breast. It had been seasoned and there was some chicken broth in there too. Healthy and tasty. I had been getting hungry, but that settled me well.
Master clearly used the bathroom and changed. He came out in a silk robe. My food was done and cleared away. Bobbi and I were both in the position he had shown me facing the bedroom door, on either side of his couch.
“Very nice.” He said.
He sat himself down in the middle of the couch and waved Bobbi and me to stand before him. I moved quickly to obey, though conscious to make each of my movements sexy and attractive. I was aware Bobbi was moving as well. When we stood before him, he held up a remote, as if using it on us and said, “Dance.”
I’m not sure where he got the remote, I didn’t see it when he came out, maybe he had it and I hadn’t noticed, maybe it was in the couch. I wondered, but supposed it didn’t really matter. What the remote actually did was start music. The music was strong, slow and fast, jazzy, but with a beat that moved through me. Naked as the day I was born, I began to dance for him.
Going through my head was the thought, “Isn’t dancing naked for a man wrong, demeaning? But I did come out tonight to dance?” I was so confused.
I had never been so completely unself-conscious before a man. Even conservatively dressed before children, I hadn’t been so completely unself-conscious. My eyes closed and I danced. My body moved to the music of its own accord, completely without modesty. I had been a cheerleader and studied dance. With the confidence the quiet of my new sports clubs had given me, I had taken classes in Zumba, belly and even pole dancing. It was all on display. I knew how to move my hips to please a man, to show off my boobs to get a man’s attention. Those movements were in my dance, but my body moved of its own accord. My hands wandered all over my body. I was so aroused, at one level, I just wanted to grab my breast and shove the other hand in my hole and make things happen, but I knew that wasn’t dancing. Using my hands to emphasize my boobs and stroke my sex suggestively, definitely.
In my head I was thinking, “Dance naked for a man?” If someone had come up to me a few hours ago and suggested it I would have laughed at him and probably smacked his face. I could remember feeling that way. I just totally couldn’t feel it now. All I could feel was the beat and my body responding to it.
Eventually he used the remote to change the music again and gestured for us to join him on either side on the couch. He was still wearing the robe but it had fallen more open.
Before I had noticed the leather couch was covered with some sort of white cotton cloth, I assumed it was just some sort of design thing. Now I realized that the white cloth had practical purposes.
He began, “I believe Bobbi deserves a reward for that nice dinner.”
Bobbi leaned back, her legs already opened.
He placed a finger inside her, just a bit, and held it still there. Bobbi’s whole body arched, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth formed a very round “O.” Clearly she came very hard.
As Bobbi recovered he turned to me. His robe opened and covered nothing. His body was every bit as ripped as I had thought. He was also extremely well hung. One thing I was surprised by was that his manhood was still not fully erect. Any college boy I had ever met, with two naked hotties giving him their best dance show, clearly going to have sex, would’ve been so hard it could be driven through a 2x4, if the boy had not already been reduced to being a panting thing. Instead I was the panting thing. If he had stood up and had given me permission, I would have been happy to hump myself on his leg, and I realized, it wouldn’t have taken me much longer than Bobbi to come.
He leaned in to kiss me and as our lips met and the fireworks went off behind my eyelids, I came to a realization.
Yes, I had come here to go to a club. I had specifically felt a ménage would be demeaning and low and had no intention of being involved in such a thing. Clearly, I had let my hormones and his commanding presence get away from me. I knew I had no intention of leaving. I was going to go with the flow and probably end up having sex with this guy and doing anything else he wanted me to do. I felt much more relaxed as the panic that had been floating in my mind dispersed. My doubt and confusion was gone.
I didn’t want to think of myself as a whore. I normally didn’t do things like this, but this was college. This would be a sexy experience I would remember decades from now as I held a glass of wine in one hand and held the hand of my boring, but serious and reasonably successful husband in the other, before I had to go take care of his needs. Perhaps Bobbi and I, as we shared a coffee while we waited for our kids to get out of school, would give each other knowing looks and smile from time to time.
My mind really wasn’t paying attention to those ideas much because all I could think about was him. He was kissing me, passionately, his tongue violating my mouth the way I knew another part him would be violating me whenever he wanted. His hands wandered, urgently, over every part of my body. As we necked, even without his manhood in me, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to orgasm and just as I was about to reach climax he pulled away.
Then he leaned across to Bobbi and started working on her. I watched the erotic display, which kept me simmering. I’m not sure how long we had kissed. While it was happening, it seemed like forever. When we stopped, it seemed like it was just a second.
I could tell his ministrations were having the same effect on Bobbi that they had on me. Then, just as Bobbi was on the cusp, he dropped her and turned back to me.
I was already more aroused than we had been before our first session. I quickly went from simmer to boil under his renewed attention. I noticed that Bobbi, rather than waiting for him to come back had brought herself forward to rub herself against his back. She particularly seemed to enjoy rubbing her breasts on him. I thought I had been on the edge of climax the first pass, that was nothing compared to the second pass. Then he went back to Bobbi. Without pride I rubbed myself on his back as he ministered to Bobbi.
I don’t know how many times he went back and forth. There wasn’t enough blood in my brain to do things like count. Each time I was hotter when he came back and more aroused when he stopped. Perhaps we were on that couch for minutes, maybe it was forever?
When he was ready, he left the robe on the couch and led us back to his bedroom.
He put me on my back on the left side of his bed, Bobbi on the right. Without ceremony, he got between my legs and entered me. Obviously, I was so ready. I came so hard on his first thrust I felt like it seared my mind. With that one thrust, all my pretensions disappeared. I was his horny obedient bitch. He had tamed me. In my gut, I could feel the change at once incredibly relaxing, so many things that I had worried and agonized about were gone. I was a slave. Someone else would call those shots for the rest of my life. At the same time, there was a feeling of uncertainty, like I was skydiving or on the down side of a roller coaster. A sense that I had no idea what was coming. If he wanted to put a collar on my neck and lead me by a leash with my hands behind my neck, elbows back, my legs high step marching around the U I would go. If he wanted to sell me to a brothel south of the border, I’d go without complaint.
That’s a lot of words to try and explain a feeling that passed fleetingly through me as I became hopelessly fixated on him screwing me.
He road me for a long time. I can’t begin to count how many times I came as he did. My orgasms bled one into the next, the first was vastly more intense than anything I had ever felt before and each one after that seemed to double and there were so many. When his back finally arched and his manhood pierced me to my deepest parts and his seed flooded into my depths, my final orgasm was a hundred times more intense than the one that had directly proceeded it.