He drives her to the house near Fontainebleau. Sitting in the car, he forbids her to get out to go to the door until she has removed her blouse. She must meet her new friend bare from the waist up. On the drive down her English husband has been telling her how easy it is going to be for her to enjoy this weekend. All she has to do is to submit totally to her Master and his friend, to remember that she is their sex slave, their toy, and their plaything. She is wearing the wrap around skirt and has been fingering herself; despite the open sunroof the car is still perfumed with the musk of hungry, female sex. The idea of being taken and used by the man she loves and this total stranger excites her to a degree she has only imagined before. She has masturbated frequently in recent weeks thinking about this and brought herself to many powerful orgasms but now this is going to become reality.
The car is parked in the drive, visible from the empty street. She gets out, her ample, bare breasts shuddering and her sensitive little nipples puckered hard. Telling her to follow him he walks towards the door of the big house. She is two steps behind. Her heart starts beating even harder as she hears voices approaching in the street - male voices. She is going to be seen standing half-naked in a stranger's garden. It doesn't matter, she tells herself, and everyone is a stranger here, except my love, my perverted husband! This is France, the country of sex. She feels as if she is in a dream where any sexual perversion is possible. Perhaps her husband will call to the men in the street and ask them to come and fuck her, there and then, in the garden. She will have to let them if that is what he wants. She wants that to happen, too.
The voices materialise and two young men walk past in animated conversation, not even glancing into the garden. She is relieved but also feels disappointed. What would they have done if they had seen her like this? She follows her Master to the door. He rings the bell and as they wait he runs his hands over her large sensual breasts, rolling her nipples between thumb and fingers, making her whimper. She now feels nervous and aroused at the idea of standing at this stranger's door, half naked, knowing she is there to be his sex toy.
A pleasant looking man opens the door. He's in his fifties, not as tall as her husband, wearing jeans and a denim shirt. He has salt and pepper hair, twinkling blue eyes and a wicked smirk. She already likes him and feels she can trust him. He greets them with that British accent that so turns her on - shaking hands with his friend and, seemingly ignoring the fact that she is naked from the waist up, kisses her on both cheeks, slightly brushing her hyper-sensitive breasts with his clothing sending a shiver through her . She feels silly and excited - a strange mix of emotions this; relief and disappointment, nervousness and arousal, silliness and excitement. It is this unusual combination of sensations that is going to flavour the weekend.
She realises that this is more than the sheer slutty lust she had experienced the last time she had been with her black lover - a highly charged lust that had had her cumming repeatedly from the first contact with him in the motel room last September. Today this lust is being mingled, mixed, spiced, and sharpened. With her black cock fucker she had known, more or less, what to expect - animal fucking and sucking, having her brains fucked out, dirty, nasty sex as she loved it, but today she really isn't sure what to expect anymore. Her whole body is tingling and her continually wet pussy starts clenching in anticipation.
The friend goes to the kitchen to fetch glasses of cool, rosé wine, her Master tells her to sit in the middle of a large, leather sofa and continues playing with her big, soft tits. As she enjoys the feel of his hands on her skin she takes in the room. It is very big, bright and comfortable. A beamed ceiling and thick pile carpet, a wide screen television in a corner, a video camera on a tripod next to it. Leaning her head back as she moans, feeling his mouth on her nipples, she notices what look like two hooks in the old beams, shiny, new hooks that have been recently placed there. On the glass coffee table, in a beautiful carved, wooden box, the lid open, she sees a number of silk scarves, soft ropes and handcuffs. And then her eyes fall upon the glass cabinet wherein there is exposed the most exquisite collection of sex toys she has ever seen. This man is obviously a connoisseur.
Hardly a word has been spoken yet the room has already heard many moans and whimpers since her arrival. Each of the artefacts stimulates her vivid imagination causing her to sigh and shiver, knowing they are all going to be used on her throughout that weekend.
The friend returns with the glasses of very chilled wine and hands one to her Master, then offers another to her. As she raises her hand to take it he shakes his head, she lowers her hand, the cold glass approaches one of her hard nipples, touches it and rotates slowly over the firm nub. The shock of the cold makes her cry out and shudder, suddenly sucking air in through her clenched teeth. She is then allowed to take the glass and lets a mouthful of the cool, sweet liquid swirl around her tongue before swallowing it, knowing that shortly she may be doing the same with mouthfuls of a much warmer, thicker, creamier, saltier tasting liquid. Her tongue licks around her lips at the thought.
"This is your new master for the weekend," her husband indicates the friend who is now sitting in an armchair opposite the sofa.
"You will obey him, won't you slut?"
She nods her head like a little girl being told she has to be good or she won't receive her treat.
"Open your skirt and spread your legs," her new master gently orders.
She reveals a pair of open crotch panties, the sort that whores wear. Through the opening the smooth shaven cunt is quite visible. Down here she also looks like a little girl as her cunt lips are hidden yet the slit is swollen and slightly throbbing. It glistens. She is unable to stop her fingers from entering her sex.
"Finger fuck yourself, little girl. We want to hear you cum."
But this command is wasted on her as she has been on the edge of orgasm since she got out of the car. Her experienced fingers roam, in and out of her soaking slit, over her tits making her groan, grunt, pant. In her imagination she can feel herself being taken, can feel cock thrusting into her... A huge orgasm is starting to surge through her when...
"Stop! Remove your hands. I will have to blindfold you and tie your arms around your back. You are too eager to cum, little whore."
Even though she has unwillingly taken her hand from her cunt it is still spasming on the edge of frustrated orgasm. A new cocktail of emotions is intoxicating her now; frustration, fear and lust.
