Don't Judge Me

We were all seated at the grand dining table, still chattering excitedly about the show, when the girls finally made their appearance in the dining room. We all stood up immediately, me almost falling over because the chair was so heavy I couldn't push it back easily, and applauded and cheered them like homecoming heroes.

Miss Havisham had, according to my request, arranged that Josie was sitting on the end of the row so that Crystal was going to be able to sit ariound the corner of the table adjacent to her. That meant Darcy was next to her, then Miss Buchanan, then Rhett, Miss Havisham, Angelo, and finally myself, all along the head of the table.

As the girls approached the dining table, Miss Havisham indicated to Crystal that she should sit at the corner with Josie, and similarly nodded and gestured the other girls to their places. She put Mahogany next to me, then Luna around the corner, then Cordilia. Celine was next to Crystal, then Pensee next to her. The air was buzzing with complements and exclamations for the girls. They teased us for a little while, but finally admitted it was Celine in the bird costume in the finale.

We were all still in a flurry of conversation when nine perfectly handsome young men, impeccably dressed as butlers, all appeared and set our places in choreographed synchronization. As they finished, they all stood, one at each of our places, with the napkin, ready to place it in our laps. Miss Havisham gave the signal, and we were all treated to the masculine invasion of our intimate space together. My scan of the others at the table revealed that nobody else had that same sense that I did, of intimacy when the napkin was laid across their laps, except Miss Buchanan who gave a loud exclamation of delight. Was I more like Miss Buchanan than like the other people at the table? I hoped not. I still didn't know what to make of the outlandish lady who was openly flirting with both the men seated on either side of her with equal energy.

Josie, for her part, was completely unconcerned that Miss Buchanan was dominating Darcy's attention. She was in the zone with Crystal. I snuck a peak over each of their minds, and I could see that both of them were zinging with excitement and thrill as they spoke in animated joy, punctuated with "oh my god I know, right?" and similar expressions of familiarity and friendship.

They spoke directly into one another's faces, like only women do. They gave each other their complete attention and communicated with every facial expression, hand gesture, vocal inflection, as well as gushing language, at least as far as they could, around the servers' hands as they set the places in front of the almost oblivious women.

I leaned forward and caught Miss Havisham's eye, and nodded toward the girls. She didn't even have to look. She had been noticing. She gave me a "yes ok, you were right" nod with a smile.

Angelo and I talked easily about music and literature, and hopes and aspirations for travel, and a wide range of topics. It was just easy to keep chattering away, never running out of things to talk about. His voice was steady and kind, his eyes were friendly, and there was always a wellspring of good-natured humor just below the surface, which would bubble up without warning, creating a moment of laughter between us. He also easily looped in Mahogany, Luna, and Cordilia, so that our corner of the table was alive with friendly chatter the whole evening. I didn't want it to ever end.

The food came and went as the courses progressed, the wine flowed, the conversations ranged. I had to keep reminding myself to check in on Crystal and Josie from time to time, finding their conversation only deeper and more personal, their emotions more robust and powerful, and the earlier "crush" sentiment from Josie developing into real attraction and even desire, on both sides.

Miss Buchanan, on the other hand, was getting drunk. By the end of the main course she was sitting on Rhett's lap, and Darcy was feeding her each mouthful. She had loosened her garments and the boys had their hands up and inside her clothing. She was being bawdy and ribald, and I was shocked that Miss Havisham didn't object. It was so outside the sort of decorum that she liked to maintain!

When dessert was served, all hell broke lose.

Well, that's how I saw it, anyway. Everyone else seemed to take it in their stride.

Miss Buchanan stood up as soon as the fruit salad with a delicate custard and chantilly cream topping arrived. She announced, "I'm having my dessert de l'homme!". She started undressing Rhett.

For the first time in Miss Buchanan's increasingly confronting display of sexual inappropriateness, Miss Havisham intervened. I was relieved, because I didn't know what Miss Buchanan was going to do, but whatever it was I was sure it was going to be over the top and inappropriate.

"Perhaps you would have more room further down the table, dear," was all she said. Like what? That's it? She just asked that the... whatever was about to happen when she undressed this young man, that it happen a few meters further away? On the dinner table? Where we were all STILL EATING DINNER?

Miss Buchanan agreed, "You heard the lady, boys. Let's go." She dragged Rhett by his half-removed shirt, and Darcy by his sleeve, around Josie and the others, to half way down the enormous table. Josie literally didn't even notice Darcy's absence, so absorbed was she in her conversation with Crystal. After a moment's interruption from the commotion, she just went right back to talking intently with Crystal.

When she got the hapless lads to her chosen spot, Miss Buchanan completed the process of stripping Rhett completely naked. He helped where he could, amid her tugging and yanking at his clothes, until he stood, physically magnificent by the way, stark naked before her. While this was happening, Darcy followed her instructions to go and fetch the three desserts they had left behind. She then turned to Darcy and repeated the process with him, stripping him unceremoniously until he was a living, breathing Michelangelo sculpture.

I was agape. Miss Havisham's spoon clinked deliberately on her dessert bowl as she enjoyed the sweets, and she chattered with Angelo as if nothing were happening. Josie and Crystal were in their own world. Some of the other girls were watching Miss Buchanan with mild interest, and others were chattering or enjoying their dessert. I felt like screaming, "this is not normal!"

Miss Buchanan pulled Darcy behind her, and Rhett in front. She passionately kissed Rhett while Darcy was licking and nuzzling her neck and ear. Both men slowly worked her clothes away as they continued hemming her in, alternating who was kissing her mouth and who was ravishing her neck. As the clothes slid down her body, they also alternated who would slide downwards, kissing her breasts, her arms, her back, bottom, tummy, sex, thighs...

Still, the assembled dinner party was almost unmoved, but I was stunned into immobility. I was unprepared for such an open display of raw sexual activity. I had never been in the same room as someone else having sex, and I didn't know how to even think about that, let alone retain any semblance of a dignified posture.

With a seeming disregard for him as a real human being, Miss Buchanan pushed Rhett backwards against the table until he was lying back on it, his legs awkwardly dangling until his feet found a chair on each side. His erect penis was then prominently protruding upwards at 45 degrees towards his head.

With Darcy at her back, and with one of her arms wrapped back around his head as he attacked her neck and fondled her breasts, she took one of the desserts and emptied it onto Rhett's belly. He breathed in sharply at the sudden cold, but made no move, leaving his hands by his side as the cream and custard, thinned by the juices of the fruit salad, ran in several places off his body and started to pool on the table.

With no restraint at all, she grabbed at the fruit and creamy custard, and swirled it all over his torso. Again, the cold made him wince, but he remained supine for her enjoyment, his hands pressed on the table.

As Miss Buchanan leaned forward to spread the juicy food all over her victim, Darcy moved to kissing her back, groping at her breasts with one hand and her bottom with the other. She was working herself into a frenzy, albeit with significant assistance.

Another bowl of dessert was dumped straight on Darcy's penis. He grunted at the cold, and I felt real sympathy for him. He was being ravaged in front of an audience by an older lady. It really wasn't fair. I scanned his mind, but didn't detect any shame. He was just engaged in the game, essentially just doing whatever it took to please this demanding woman.

Miss Buchanan then, once his genitals were covered in cream, custard, and fruity liquid, dived on that place, lapping and sucking noisily at his private parts. Surely, I thought at that stage, surely by now someone else at the table, anyone else, might be at least a little bit shocked. Nope. Everyone was still just passively observing, or just ignoring the scandalous display. I felt my face reddening from embarrassment, but I couldn't tear myself away. It was depraved. It was shameless. It was captivating.

What came next really broke a few limits within which I had, until then, been operating. Like, it was so outside what I had ever imagined, I felt my brain bending.

Miss Buchanan, by now making grunting and panting noises, so excited was she, climbed up on top of Rhett. I have to admit it was incongruous, not that a woman can't be on top, but that this elderly woman should be clambering up to dominate such a young and virile lover. She mounted him without waiting, letting out a satisfied gasp and grunt without any shame at all. And there they were, literally fucking on the table. On the table!

But that's only the start. You won't guess what happened next. Omg, I was not prepared for it. Not at all!

As Miss Buchanan started sliding up and down, luxuriating in her own cavalier use of this man's body for her pleasure, she turned and made a gesture to Darcy. He moved behind her and, although I couldn't quite tell what he was doing at first, spitting in his hand and rubbing saliva on her bottom, it finally dawned on me in a horrifying realization. He was lubricating her bottom!

Now, look. Maybe I'm a sheltered girl, ok? But in all my wildest dreams I never imagined a man putting his penis in a woman's bottom. I mean, why do that, right? But here I was, about to witness exactly that, and I didn't know how to process it. At first, I thought, "Surely that's impossible". But the logic part of my brain said that, of course, when men have sex with each other, that's how they do it. And after all, there's no difference between a man and a woman when it comes to... back there. Right?

Still, I struggled to comprehend it.

Darcy moved into position behind her, and I held my breath. Miss Buchanan's excitement was reaching fever pitch, and she thrust backwards onto Darcy, which resulted in him at least partially entering her. She gave a grunt of a new intensity, reached behind to touch Darcy's hip, and pulled him closer, deeper inside her. She then moved to get the men into a rhythm, which was accompanied by the slurping and slopping of the food between her body and Rhett's.

I couldn't help it. I had to know. I looked into her mind to understand what she was feeling, and it was incredible. In her mind she was filled from behind with an enormous muscle of gigantic proportions, threatening to over-extend her poor body's limits but always finding just enough capacity for the intruding member, while also filled in her sex with familiar delicious sensations, and then surrounded by luscious lubrication from the juicy food mess.

Every inch felt like a mile in her bottom, and it was feeding a firehose of intensity bordering on pain into her erotic charge, while the sensations from, err... normal?... sex were dousing the whole experience with waves of pleasure. The combination was extreme. I couldn't be inside her mind for more than a moment, because it was activating my own arousal in an alarming way. It was so intense and unfamiliar.

As I withdrew from her mind and again took in the bizarre visual scene of an elderly lady skewered between two energetic young men. Right at that moment she looked directly at me and winked. It was more than I could stand, and the sudden uptick in my own arousal made me actually climax without warning. Don't judge me. I felt naughty. Really, really naughty, just for watching, let alone enjoying it. I was forced again to wonder if I might be more like Miss Buchanan than I liked to admit.

Presently, Darcy was obviously ready to climax, and Rhett picked up his pace in sympathy so that they could coordinate their efforts. When Darcy let loose inside Miss Buchanan's bottom, to her grunting assent, my breath came only in gasps, and I had to close my eyes for a moment. I started to worry that my dress would show an embarrassing patch of wetness when I stood up. I was aflame. I'm such a deviant. I so needed Miss Havisham to put me over her knee right then, and give me a thorough spanking. Judge me all you like. I was beyond caring about it at that moment.

Then Rhett also climaxed. Miss Buchanan was screeching like a cowgirl herding steers. The brouhaha lasting a number of long moments before subsiding, leaving Miss Buchanan flopped over Rhett, panting in exhaustion while Darcy carefully withdrew from her, to her satisfied little moans. He picked up the remaining dessert bowl, took a spoonful, and brought it near Miss Buchanan's face. She smiled, raised her head, and let him feed her as she stayed wallowing in food and sex juices, on top of Rhett, who was by now merely furniture to her.

I had lost track of everyone else as the excitement had mounted, but I now noticed that Miss Buchanan had finally attracted everyone's attention. Even Josie and Crystal! But nobody had been affected the way I had. Miss Havisham had finished her dessert, as had Angelo, who was politely waiting for me to be receptive to conversation again. Nobody was shocked, or amazed. Just me. Maybe I really was naive, I thought.

"Crystal," Miss Havisham spoke across the room, breaking the silence that had fallen. "Would you run a little errand for me, dear?"

I didn't need the Sight to see that Crystal was bitterly disappointed. She clearly didn't want to break away from Josie even for a minute. The sensation of missing out was intense, and written all over her crestfallen face, but she was loyal to Miss Havisham, and responded, "Of course, Miss."

"Miss Buchanan has had a long day of traveling. She must be exhausted. I'd like you to go and check that her suite is all prepared." Miss Havisham said, without even making reference to the debauchery we had all just witnessed, and the still heaving, slippery pile of juicy bodies half way down the dinner table.

Crystal knew that it wasn't the job of the girls to prepare the rooms for the guests. Miss Havisham had men for that. She didn't understand why she was being asked to do this odd thing, but reluctantly she responded, "Yes, Miss." She pushed her chair back and, with an apologetic expression directed towards Josie, turned to go.

"Oh, and would you take Josie with you, dear?" Miss Havisham added, with a twinkle in her eye. "Josie will also be tired and may wish to retire early. I'm sure you need some rest after your magnificent performance, too. Good night, darling. We'll see you both tomorrow, ok?"

Crystal and Josie locked eyes in an explosion of inner excitement. "Yes, Miss", Crystal replied, without concealing her enthusiasm very well at all. The two walked towards the door, accelerating to a scurry as they got half way across the room, and virtually ran once they swung it open.

Miss Havisham caught my eye and smiled. Those girls were going to have quite a night.