Poer and Nadine

"Ok guys, show's over. Let's get back to the cards."

Like schoolboys being herded away from a school ground fight, my friends drift back to the table.

But somehow, playing cards is no longer exciting enough. But any attempt to get me to talk about how I was lucky enough to have such an amazing wife is met with silence on my part.

Had the show been less blatant or less erotic then at least they could have joked about t, or teased me. But now, each one of these men is taken up with thoughts of envy and lust. Each of them has a fire burning in them, and each has images of how they would posses, use and fill your body with their flesh and their cum.

After a couple of hands, it is clear that the evening is almost over as far as they are concerned, and comments are made about how late it is and how they need to be getting back home.

I lean back in the chair and drop the final bomb shell.

"Well, before you go, I have one final thing to say. As you have gathered, my darling wife is not ashamed of showing off her hot body, or of her need to be punished. However, she doesn't really believe that she the hottest thing going on two legs, and that she is so sexy that most men would give their eye teeth just to have a blowjob from her. In fact, an hour before you arrived, she said that not even all of you guys would want that from her."

"So, I bet her £60 that by the time you were ready to leave tonight, each of you would also be ready to sit there and let Nadine work her mouth magic on you. All she had to do was to obey me during the evening, and I promised her that you guys would be gagging for it at the end."

"But for me to win the bet, not only must every of you be prepared to have a blowjob, but each of you must cum, either in her mouth or on her face. If not, then I have to give Nadine the money."

Some of the guys look at you in query. Even after the evening's entertainment, they cannot believe that this is for real. From your place on the sofa you nod and smile shyly. It is obvious from how relaxed you are that there is no sign of coercion, that this is genuinely what I have described.

Once they are satisfied that the bet is not some wind up, they huddle together once more to decide what to do. Some are a bit reluctant to let their mates watch them get such a treat, but they are quickly persuaded otherwise by the others. They know that all of them must take part, or none of them will be allowed to. After what they have seen, some of them are fit to blow already.

Six guys, six blow jobs, and one sexy woman who has already performed a strip tease for them, had her bum spanked with a wooden spoon and then put on a sex show which would have done a professional porn star proud. It wasn't a fair choice to make, and it wasn't long before they had not only agreed to the challenge, but even the running order.

First up is Alan, at 23 the youngest of the group, and he goes over to the sofa where he sits down, nervously. With a smile of welcome you slide off the sofa and kneel between his legs, rubbing your hands up his thighs and over the conspicuous bulge in his trousers. You know that at his age, he isn't going to be hard to please, and quickly get down to business.

In a moment his zip is pulled down and an impressive weapon revealed for all to see. Alan's head falls back as you grip the shaft and start a slow pumping action, letting his pre-cum pool at the tip and be squeezed out by the movements. You lean forwards and gently lick at the swollen mushroom, caressing the tip with your tongue. Alan groans at the softness.

Still pumping, you slowly lower your lips onto his cock, lifting up your hips as you do so to reveal a ripe peach ready to be plucked. Down you work, your tongue swirling, and then lift up equally slowly, your hand gently pumping as you go.

Alan had been on edge most of the evening, having seen things that he hadn't even seen on a porn DVD. As a result, your gentle warm sucking and busy tongue have an almost immediate effect. With a strangled cry his hips push up and lock rigid. We don't need to see your throat working to know that Alan has beaten the three minute record and is feeding you your first meal of the evening. All too soon, it's over, and with a shamefaced look and to the sound of our jeers, Alan rejoins the rest of us at the table, ceding his place to Pete.

Pete is a bit older, a bit wiser and thinks he will last longer. With a self satisfied look he sits down next to you, and without a word reaches down and kisses you. You eye him up cheekily, and softly whisper;

"By the time I have finished, you won't have the energy for that."

With that, you reach up and pull him down for a longer slower kiss. As his lips are pressed to yours you slide one hand along his trousers and begin rubbing his stiffened cock. You tease more with Pete, taking your time before you even begin to release his manhood. By the time you do so, your deep kissing and hand rubbing has begun to shorten his breath.

Slowly, still pressing your mouth to his, you slide down the zip, your palm caressing the length as you do so, even pushing the zip back up several times in order to prolong the agony for him. By the time you reach in to pull out his prick, his eyes have started to slide back up into his head. This time you cup the shaft in your palm, rubbing your knuckles against his stomach. With your fingers open, you are able to lick up the length as if it were an ice-lolly. Slowly, taking your time, you concentrate on the soft area of the tube, not even touching the helmet. It is almost as if you are massaging his cum out of his balls with your tongue.

Pete is now in an agony of suspense. He was expecting to have a quick blow job and to concentrate on lasting as long as possible. Instead, he is now frantic with desire and need, and you haven't even properly started yet.

Taking mercy on him, every now and then you let your tongue drift to the sensitive head, even pushing into the little eye at the tip. Pete's vocal reaction indicates that you are on the button with your approach.

With little cat licks you bathe the mushroom, wetting it and covering it with a tingle of sensations. You love giving and receiving oral sex and using your mouth, lips and tongue to stimulate a man's sexual desire. You are in no hurry here, deep in a sensuous world of your own.

Pulling the rod towards you, you slide the tip towards the back of your tongue, keeping you mouth open and breathing gently onto the flesh. Into your mouth you let him travel, and then carefully clamp your lips onto him. With a slight suction, and creating a warm wet cocoon, you carefully pull back up, giving Pete the sensation that he is buried in your snatch.

So slowly, so gently, so sweetly, you repeat this process; sliding his cock into your mouth and then sucking up carefully, that slight vacuum with your tongue and lips maintaining an erotic contact with his flesh.

Despite himself, Pete's hips start to buck upwards as you drive down, and taking your cue from him, you match to his increasing rhythm. He, too, is lost in this, in the wonder of being serviced with such skill and dedication.

His hips thrust harder and faster, and you match him in intensity. But you aren't silent either. Moans and whimpers escape from your mouth, muffled by his thick pistoning flesh. Your hands rub his thighs, a passionate caress of desire. Even though neglected and empty, your hips buck up and down in time with your head.

These sounds and movements are all too much for Pete. To be given such pleasure by a woman who is showing all the signs of enjoying this as much as him is too much. Resting his hand on your head, he gives four long slow drives into your mouth, driving up as far as you let him before you start to pull away on his in stroke. Except that on the fourth, he doesn't move back, but locks rigid and grunts as is cum boils up his prick. He is exultant at his shedding into you, and the awareness of your busy throat makes the impact even more intense.

With a sigh, his head slumps back and you sit up, a Cheshire cat grin on your face.

Pete leans down and kisses you gently, and then looks over at me and grins lopsidedly.

"That was fucking unbelievable mate. If you could bottle that, you would make your fortune."

I already know how wonderful you are at this, having been the willing recipient of many happy hours of your practicing.

Dave is next up. Watching you so expertly take care of Alan and Pete has left him in some discomfort, and he had been surreptitiously rubbing himself as he watched your naked arse moving up and down.

Dave is not known for being subtle, and even as he is sitting down on the sofa, he has pulled his zip down and freed his straining cock, slowly pumping it up and down as if it were a stubby shotgun.

As if reading his mind, you lean it and engulf him. What he lacks in length he makes up for in girth, and your lips are stretched wide around him, but you seem to take him further than anyone else so far, all in one long slow swallow. There is nothing slow and teasing about you this time. Like him, you are hungry, hungry for food, for pleasing, to be of service.

This time, you are frantic, active, busy with your mouth and hands. There is an urgency about you fueled by having already received the tribute of two men, and three more to follow before you are allowed your own release.

You seem like a starving woman, matching Dave's own urgency. His eyes are wide at your eagerness to coax his cum from him, and he is caught up in the moment. When you push his hand out of the way and start to pump him in time with your movements, humming with pleasure, he is undone. He places his hands on either side of your head and holds you still as he thrusts in and out, curling his hips up and back. After several minutes of being buried in the welcome of your mouth, Dave too succumbs, and his seed spills onto your tongue where you savour its saltiness before swallowing it.

Malcolm and Colin are mates, and where one is, so the other will be too. In this case, they opt to take you on at the same time. In fact, they even suggest that they double time you at each end, but I am adamant. The deal is blow jobs only, though you are more than happy to take care of both of them at the same time if they wish.

You are now like a child in a sweet shop. You have two toys to play with, and nothing gets you going like a challenge. Before they sit down, Malcolm and Colin have taken their pants down, and are obviously more than ready for anything you may care to do. The sight of you so happily pleasuring my friends, along with your earlier show and the ripe evidence of your arousal has raised the sexual temperature. In fact, they are almost half way to creaming just from the pretty picture of you kneeling in front of them by the sofa.

They sit down, one on either side of you. Wide eyed with a smile on you lips, you reach out a hand to each joystick, curling your fingers around each erection and sliding your hand up and down each one simultaneously. Every now and then you lean over one of them and lick the flesh and suck the tip, tasting the musk as if eating a melting ice cream cone. Sometimes your tongue laps the top in a broad stroke, and sometimes it swirls around the ridge.

Malcolm and Colin are in seventh heaven, and they have to tear their eyes away from your happy face to glance at each other.

Eventually, you tire of only getting one cock at a time. You lean into the gap between the two guys and pull their manhoods towards you, rubbing both pricks against your cheeks, licking and sucking them alternately. At one point you manage to get both heads into your mouth at the same time, and you look up at the friends through your eyelashes, somehow managing to look both innocent and incredibly naughty and sexy at the same time.

The guys decide that you need a helping hand, and they both turn towards you, starting to pump themselves in earnest.

"ok darling" Colin growls, "We've watched you drink our cum down. Lets see how you cope with some face cream."

You laugh happily and purr back

"I can cope with all the cream you have for me. I'll even rub it in for you to make my skin soft if you ask me nicely."

With intent looks on their faces, Colin and Malcolm masturbate faster and faster, and you encourage them with licks and kisses, purring and encouraging them with sly looks and giggles.

Malcom explodes first as you are in the middle of sucking Colin's prick, and the first ropy jet splashes on your cheek. Quickly you turn to your first shooter, your head tilted back slightly and your eyes closed. As a result, the rest of the load lands on your nose and lips, a perfect hit. Your tongue snakes out and you lick the jism of your lips carefully, afraid of wasting it.

Turning back to Colin, you smile a cum smile as if to say to tease him with his friend's success. He is almost there, and the sight of you looking so slutty is all he needs. With a cry, he lets loose his own salvo, his jerking spraying his cum over a wider area. Some lands on your forehead and the rest down your left cheek.

As a parting treat, you lean forward one final time and clean up the last of their man juice, licking the final traces off their shrinking cocks.

Five men have now had the pleasure of your oral talents, and only Pat is left. He is the oldest amongst us, softly spoken with a dry sense of humour. He has a quiet intensity, and we really don't know that much about him. He has been happy to follow the lead of the rest of us, and I have wondered what is going through his mind.

Without a word, he takes his place on the sofa. But then, he pulls you up between his legs until you are kneeling upright. Gently he places both his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your lips. His eyes bore into you, and you feel as if he is opening you up inside. In his time, he tips his head forward and kisses you, a slow lingering passionate kiss, and you feel you breath come short. Only one man has the ability to do that to you so easily; Me, your Master, and you feel your self slip into that familiar subspace where you surrender your body and your inhibitions to me. When the kiss is broken, you look back into his eyes with a new understanding. He smiles and speaks gently to you.

"Your Master is a very fortunate man to have the submission of such a wonderful slut."

You are filled with pride, pride that your service has been recognised, pride that your Master has been complimented, and pride that this man has seen the truth inside you.

This is to be different. The other men you have played with. They are vanillas, unable to see beyond the act, unable to see the beauty and poetry of your sweet service. But this man knows, and sees, and honours what he sees.

When your face is released, you bend reverently to Pat's lap, and pull down the zip. There is no teasing here, no playing. You see in Pat a Dominant like your Master, and for the moment your purpose is to serve him.

Even through the fabric of his pants, you bow to kiss the bulge of his erection. Your kiss is as lingering as his was on your lips, the heat of your passion and devotion making the imprisoned flesh jerk as if shocked.

With infinite care you reach in and coax his flesh out, a virgin leading a unicorn. Your focus is so attentive, so submissive, that all of us are silent in wonder at your care.

You cup your hands as if in prayer, the rigid column nestling in your palms, kissing the warm soft skin. Gently you nuzzle him, rubbing your cheek up and down the downy softness, marveling at the hardness under the velvet.

With soft butterfly kisses you pepper the purple exposed skin of the bulbous head, arching your head and neck so as to leave no part of his sex un-worshipped.

As you did with Pete, you lick the length of him, wetting him, caressing him, bathing him. But this time, you are more focused, more gentle. Each stroke starts at the base, down by the wrinkled sac and doesn't finish until your tongue has run out of flesh to brush against, and then you return to the beginning, creating a hypnotic rhythm. You are creating a rhythm of sex and desire, lust and passion, service and submission.

At last, your lips return to kissing and softly sucking Pat's sex. Bit by bit, you take him into yourself, receiving him like an honoured guest into a palace. Your lips and tongue are like wet silk, and once he is inside, you push down so that he is lodged almost at the back of your throat.

And at that point, you send the most erotic signal you can to this man. You lift your hands off his manhood and clasp your fingers behind your neck. You are adopting a slave submission pose, even as you fellate this man. With your hands held in this way you are signaling vulnerability and openness. In this way you are giving your self as freely as you are allowed. And all this while, you are moving your lips up and down his hardness. At the up stroke, only the head is still enclosed in your hot warmth. But then, descending like a snowflake in still air, you drive his sex as far as you can unaided into your throat.

This act, this giving of your throat is a special treat, a gift you do not give lightly. It took you many months of practice, often with tears of frustration, to learn to open and swallow my cock so that your lips could kiss to the base of my shaft. But with that practice came a true appreciation of how erotic and arousing it was to me, and how strong a trigger it was to my own spending.

As yet, though, you still need assistance to open completely. Each thrust down is stopped when the head reaches the back of your throat, but you don't have the strength unaided to actually swallow him into you.

Watching you intently, and acutely aware of the effort you are making, he puts his hand on your head. But before he does anything else, he looks over to me. He doesn't want to do anything that would cause you harm or discomfort.

"It's ok, that is what she wants. She needs you to push her onto yourself, and she knows how much more exciting it is for me when I do that."

With that re-assurance, Pat's fingers tighten in your hair, and with a grunt he pushes you down as his hips buck up. To an observer, it appears as if you have no choice, but you can sense that at the first sign of discomfort his hands would move away instantly and he would stop. The caution in his actions comforts you and helps you to relax your throat. With his help, you feel the size of him descend into you, filling you, and you are thrilled to be able to please him, and your Master, in this way. At this lowest point, you swallow, letting the rippling of your throat massage the sensitive glans.

Despite the hand on your head, you don't feel any resistance to lifting up as before, but your are aware that on the downward stroke, his hand is urging you and the thrust of his hips drives his prick to slide in further. A sense of abandonment enters you, and you become the sweet slut submissive you are deep down inside. This extravagant use of you sets you free, and you hum with pleasure at his control of you.

Between you, you set up an intense rhythm taking the penetration to its extreme. Each up stroke is slow and lingering, and each down stroke is hard and aggressive, as if he is using you entirely for his pleasure. And each time your lips reach his pubic hair, he holds for a couple of seconds while you hum and swallow, maximizing his enjoyment.

Faster and faster the pounding goes. This is no longer felatio, it's a skull fuck, and you are so absorbed by the act that you are hardly aware of your juices running down the insides of your thighs.

Pat's head has dropped back, and he is lost in your submission and your gift of pleasure. He finds the path to his climax and sets a final rhythm, slower and more intense, gripping your hair in his fists. Each stroke is controlled and steady, and he only has to do this eight more times before he finally buries himself in you for the final thrust. After the first spurt down your open throat he lets you up and empties the rest of his cream onto your tongue. You wait patiently until he has finished.