The Dinner Party – 9

In the back of his car, Gilles Massé watched his latest acquisition’s face as he caught her nipple between his first and second fingers and squeezed. The whimper she emitted was a satisfying combination of pain and need.

Carmen, his beloved, his wife, his partner in crime, had her hand up the girl’s dress; he could smell the girl’s cunt and hear how wet she was. So full of illusions, this one, so full of desire: it made his cock ache.

No woman had ever understood him the way Carmen did. No matter who he brought into their bed, she never once objected, never doubted his love of her; she was a jealous woman, but not sexually. In the act of understanding him, Carmen had allowed Gilles to understand himself better. He would always crave the decimation of innocence, and the quelling of rebellion and, when Carmen could no longer offer those things, she sought it out for him in others.This one next to him, he could feel the great battle going on inside her between innocence and corruption. It was one of his deepest pleasures to be instrumental in deciding which side won.

He stretched his arm along the back of the car seat and wound his fingers through Isabel’s hair. Trapping the strands, he pulled her head back. Her eyes were closed; her lips were parted, breathing in sharp, short, bursts of air. He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered: “Avez-tu faim, ma petite?”

The girl moaned, her hips arched in response to Carmen’s hidden attentions.

Removing his hand from her breast and, unbuttoning his trousers, Gilles pulled the fly down with deliberate slowness. He freed his cock into the cool, darkness of the air-conditioned car, stroking its length idly for a moment, before pulling Isabel’s head into his lap.

“Eat, then.”

Even before her lips, he felt her breath, hot and ragged against the sensitive dome of his cockhead. In the car’s dark interior, he couldn’t see her, but the sound of Carmen’s fingers plunging wetly into Isabel’s cunt blended with the hiss of the outside world as the car cut through the night and the empty city streets. He envisioned the girl’s lips, her momentary hesitation, and allowed himself to close his eyes and smile before pushing her head, her mouth, down around him.

Her plump lips closed deliciously around his shaft and he groaned, feeling the hot cave of her mouth surround the head. The desire to suck, he knew, was primal and automatic: born out of the intense pleasure she experienced between her legs.

Gilles opened his eyes and looked over at Carmen. She had slipped onto the floor of the car and had pushed up the girl’s dress, revealing the pale roundness of an upturned ass cheek. Carmen kissed and nipped at the girl’s flesh while she fucked her slowly with her fingers.

Isabel’s moan vibrated down his shaft, and the stroke of her tongue against the underside of his glans made Gilles twitch. She wasn’t expert at this, but she was very, very willing. Gilles raised his hips slowly, even as he pushed Isabel’s mouth further down onto himself, until the head of his cock brushed against the back of her palate. He nudged harder, and the girl gasped once, and gagged as he pushed the head through into her throat.

“That’s it,” he hissed, holding her head.

She would have fought and withdrawn, he knew, if it weren’t for the fact that her whole body was relaxing under Carmen’s onslaught. Gilles felt the girl’s throat constrict, silently, as he breached her throat again and again. Tiny violations to train her body to take him there.

He could feel it in her mouth, as she began to orgasm. Suddenly, the warmth that enveloped him pressed tight around him and he felt the sharp edge of her teeth around the base of his cock. She groaned and her throat opened, allowing him unfettered access. That moment, he always loved it; when a woman turned to nothing more than yielding flesh and spasming muscles. He fucked her mouth, and she sucked him willingly, taking him to the root of her own volition. The noisy, wet sucking sounds filled the car and presaged his climax. He drove it forward, fuelling it with visions of the liquid lust he was about to pump down her willing, naive throat, infecting her with his corruption.

Gilles grunted as he erupted, bathing himself in his own hot semen. Isabel moaned and gagged as the second shot flooded into her mouth. He felt her fight, then, to pull away, but he held her head down and gasped as the third, weaker spurt raced up his cock and emptied into her.

Even in the midst of his pleasure, he knew the girl would be angry with him for the brutality of this treatment, for using her mouth the way he had. No matter, he thought to himself, she will learn to love it soon enough.

As his neurons stopped firing, he felt the warm wetness of his cum trickle around the base of his shaft. Gilles thought of ordering her to clean him up, but reconsidered. Perhaps this was enough for one night. Even as he thought it, the girl’s mouth began to suck around his softening cock, swallowing. Her sweet tongue swirled around him, gathering up the trickles that pooled at the base. He sighed as she cleaned him, a delightful and unexpected act of submission.

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes again, he realized why: the girl was now bent over his lap, with her knees on the car seat and her pert ass in the air. Carmen had not ceased her attentions. Even as she penetrated the girl’s cunt with her fingers, she was licking and tonguing her ass.

It was a magnificently perverse mind that could use and direct another’s body in this way, so subtly and yet so effectively. God, he loved her; her power, her surrender, her descent into his realm.

Between Gilles’ legs, his cock twitched into wakefulness.

“A la maison, Kien, s’il vous plait.”