Victor got up to refill his drink and resume his hosting duties, leaving me alone nursing my third whisky of the evening. From my corner spot, I scanned the large room, the party in full swing now. Victor and Sofia's swinging soirées were legendary and this was shaping up to be another fabulous night of high-class debauchery. All guests were vetted for these invitation only events, either known to the couple or recommended by reliable sources. Phones were handed in at the door to encourage connections and ensure everyone felt comfortable being themselves. A few drinks in now, the atmosphere was certainly livening up, an electricity humming among the 50 or 60 beautifully-dressed people spread across the two large open plan living spaces and kitchen at the heart of the hosts' historic nineteenth century home.
I sat and observed, as was my usual way on such occasions. Victor and I hadn't had a good chat in a couple of years, so it had been great to catch up with the charming old bastard. He headed back into the melee of high-spirited guests, looking quite splendid as he walked away in his tailored suit with the specially made cut-outs for his tight butt cheeks. I'd watched that butt fuck a few people in my time, I reflected, as he greeted a newly-arrived group of latex-clad guests.
Over the course of the evening the hum in the room had grown, people beginning to pair off or gather in small niches. Bodies had grown closer, hands had intertwined or were stroking cheeks or forearms. One couple were hanging over the end of the kitchen counter, the woman with her butt perched on the hard surface, short skirt riding up as her paramour explored her neck with his mouth and her body with his hands. One young man on a couch had the stockinged foot of an elegant older woman across his lap, massaging it to her clear delight as she audibly cackled, "Darling, don't stop at the foot!" A cluster of women standing in a small circle in front of the huge fireplace were comparing breast size and firmness, giggling as they took turns applying squeezes or unbuttoning blouses to display the fine lingerie they'd selected for the party. It was only a matter of time before a bra was unclasped and the owner's pert nipples were eagerly sucked into lipstick lips. I downed the last dram of amber liquid in my glass, the warmth sliding down my throat, matching the arousal I felt surveying this sumptuous feast of sensuality.
My eye was caught by a group of people moving to the kitchen, leaving behind two of their number who were deep in bubbly conversation, laughing and touching each other's arms. How had I not noticed this woman in black before? Dressed in a short, tight-fitting dress -- the back of which was more skin than dress -- she oozed allure. Her slim, firm body was clearly the product of dedicated time at the gym or Pilates. Her luxurious straight, black hair flowed right down that bare back. And her ass ... goddamn if it wasn't the perfect firmness for my palm or a paddle. As I watched, she turned and saw my eyes fixed on her. She flashed a smile at me before turning her pretty face down coyly, clasping her hands in front of her. My immediate thought was that this was a signal that she is a well-trained submissive. She turned back to the person she was talking to, but the spark was ignited.
She had my attention alright. Her skin was perfect porcelain, inviting you to imagine capturing her and licking her sweet, soft flesh or marking it with pretty stripes. The current that was charging the room sparked inside me, running through my body, my balls tingling and blood rushing to my cock inside my tailored suit pants as my mind imagined the ways I would use this delightful creature. My hand strayed involuntarily to tease the warm flesh swelling against my thigh. With her naked back turned now, its graceful curve conjured a fantastic image of her body arcing, moaning in ecstasy as I tortured, teased and pleased her. She tossed her hair somewhat theatrically, knowing I would still be watching. That silky hair just begged to be wrapped around my fist. I had to have this gorgeous submissive as my plaything.
I got up, refilled my own drink at the kitchen counter, and walked past her on my way back to my corner. Her eyes followed me as I approached, and I waited for her to turn momentarily from her conversation as I passed, whispering quietly, "Come sit with Sir, my dear, and let's get to know each other." Without waiting for an answer I sat back down and waited, idly straightening my cufflinks. After a few moments, she left her friend, who gave her a knowing smile. She didn't turn to walk over to me, however, but headed towards the drink supplies arranged across the kitchen counter. She picked up the same bottle of Glenfiddich I had just poured my own drink from and, collecting a fresh glass, came to sit next to me, setting the bottle and glass down on the table in front of me. She sat quietly, looking up at me with sparkling eyes waiting for me to speak. "Hello, my dear," I said, meeting those inviting eyes. "Hello Sir," she replied. I cast my eyes over her body, firm tits held tight in her black dress; slim legs, crossed right now, crowned with shiny black heels. Those legs wouldn't be crossed for long, I thought.
"I am Troy," I said serenely, tipping my glass in her direction. "You're having the same?" I questioned with my eyes in the direction of the clean glass and the half-full bottle of scotch. A gleam in the corner of her eye told me she was very pleased with her bottle trick but she didn't let on.
"If you'll allow it, Sir," she replied in an exotic accent I couldn't quite place.
"A woman who enjoys a good whisky is a woman after my own heart," I responded. She paused, wondering if I would fill her tumbler for her but I waited for her to do it herself to see what measure she would pour. She took the bottle, tipping in a very healthy amount into the clean glass, which tinkled pleasingly over the buzz of conversation. She'd apparently even observed I take it straight, matching this with her own drink. The bubbliness I'd observed as she chatted to her friend was kept in check now; she was calm and as measured as the amount of whisky she'd poured out. She was also clearly gauging me and my reactions, as of course she should. I was impressed by these initial impressions. "Thank you, Sir," she said, taking the drink in her slender fingers, nails painted a striking white to contrast her outfit. We clinked our glasses together ceremoniously. "To you, my dear," I toasted. I anticipated her response but it was very pleasing nonetheless: "Oh no, to you, Sir!"
She had had the opportunity to tell me her name when I'd told her mine. But clearly, out of deference, she was waiting to be asked. When I did at this point, she smiled serenely and told me, "Thank you, Sir. My name is Jenny."
We chatted, flirting and assessing each other. Naturally anyone at a Victor and Sofia event was safe and well-versed in the Lifestyle. I asked if this was her first such event and she said it was her first with these hosts, an invitation she'd been hoping to secure for some time. I was an old-timer, I informed her, though this was my first for a few years for various reasons.
"The party meets your expectations?" I inquired, waving my glass in a sweeping motion to take in the rising level of debauchery on display. The couple at the kitchen counter had progressed to incorporating the food into their play, the woman now on her knees and spraying whipped cream onto the man's lengthy cock, his pants now round his ankles. Others nearby watched and egged her on, one woman reaching out a hand to swipe up some cock-cream into her own laughing mouth. On the sofa, the young man had pulled the stocking from the domme's foot and was now on his knees sucking her toes; she had her skirt hitched up with her hand rubbing her glistening pussy through crotchless panties. And the group of girls had formed a chain of mouths, breasts, hands, and pussies, having arranged themselves now over two sofas in front of the fireplace. Elsewhere, butts were being slapped; clothes were being discarded; a strap-on had been produced and was being passed around for examination. Things were definitely heating up.
My lovely companion took a sip of her drink. I watched the gulp of her throat as she felt it slide down her throat before she looked up at me and answered: "So far, yes my expectations are met. Though now I expect they will be exceeded, Sir," she answered, her full lips curling in an adorably suggestive smile.
