The meeting had just started when the text arrived. I had only enough time to glance at it discreetly before I was on. The message consisted of nothing more than a shot of her bare arse. She was bent over a table, and her knickers had been pulled down mid thigh. Her skin was a light shade of pink where she had been paddled. It looked like with a crop. She told me later that it had been her punishment for being late. I had purposely told her the wrong time, but she had either forgotten that detail or politely didn't call me out on it -- it didn't matter now. They told me later that she hadn't put up much resistance when they both forcefully bent her over, and one held her hands as the other pulled up her dress and with both hands slid her panties down her legs.
There had been one other text a short while before that, asking if I was serious when I told her to enjoy herself today -- her birthday. I might have been crazy at the time, but I typed; "yes", and hit send.
I was presenting when again my phone vibrated in my pocket. My imagination was running wild and my cock was getting hard. What were they doing to her right now? After an agonizingly long question and answer session, I finally had a moment to take a look. It was a photograph of a neat pile of clothes on the carpet. I recognized the carpet, and I certainly recognized the clothes. Her tiny red satin panties were on top -- of course the last thing to come off. They were noticeably darker in the crotch area, where the little slut had creamed them.
This was all part of the plan. Winston had suggested it. He was pretty good at this stuff.
Heroically, I maintained the appearance of focus as the next text arrived. It consisted of a beautiful image, taken from between her spread legs. Though I knew that view quite well, I saw it in a new light as I took it in. Her pussy, open and ready, shiny with her juiciness: her inner labia spilling out from where her warm, well lubricated vagina opened. She was tied on her back with red ropes, on a dark granite surface -- I recognized it, it was their kitchen work table. Her legs were open enough that I could see the shiny light pink swells of her labia, the inner ones were flushing that violet she gets when she's very turned on. Her sweet little clit was out too, and very ready for fun. I love it when she gets that way -- it made my mouth water.
This, too, was all exactly as planned. But up until a short while ago, it had been only fantasy -- my fantasy.
My cell phone buzzed again, as more images downloaded. The first was her face; she looked so damn hot, blindfolded, her mouth open in ecstasy. This was followed by another close up from between those gorgeous legs. A stream of clear fluid flowed down the crack of her arse, puddling on the granite table top below. Along with the pictures was a message from Winston; "She is scrumptious, we can barely keep our hands off of her."
When I had first suggested that we hold her birthday party in their flat, Winston's immediate response had been; "Shall we tie her in the middle of the table, or face down over the edge?" We both shared a good laugh over it, but the image had been planted. I knew neither of us could let it go. Winston knew hot women -- well enough to know that he had named her true desire.
They must have switched off taking pictures because the next sequence showed Winston's cock at her mouth, her red lips caressing his broad head. She's especially gifted at oral sex when she's hot.
A text came in; "I love it when a woman loves to suck cock." Me too, I thought.
A few days had passed before I had encountered Winston again. After a chance meeting in the financial district we both chatted as the girls, lost in their own conversation, walked a few steps ahead of us. I subtly guided our discussion back to the previous night, and we both smiled. Adopting a more serious tone, I risked it and told him straight out that there is nothing in the world that would excite Nicole more than being tied up in the middle of the table. Winston admitted that he too had fantasized about this very thing. We should certainly do this for her as a gift, but, unfortunately the party was already in motion, and this might not be the right crowd for this particular scenario. I had to agree. But, having had a little more time to consider the idea, I already had a plan in mind. I wasn't sure she would go through with it, but it was worth a try. Winston agreed, and added that whether it happened or not, the fantasy itself was well worth the ride.
Discreetly, I glanced at my phone to see the next image as it arrived. It was Elise, naked. I welcomed a naked picture of Elise any time -- she was ravishing. But this picture was particularly good because, I could tell from the angle, she was sitting on my wife's face. I could see my wife's soft tongue against her glistening clit. My wife confided later that while she had previously been repulsed by the idea of tasting another woman, she might now consider doing it again some time.
Nicole and I had discussed my fantasy of seeing her used before. She had always listened intently, but never really taken it up. I've come to believe it was less due to her lack of interest than her concern that she might like it. It had come close to happening a few times, her picking up a guy at a bar, us hooking up with a guy at a party. But each time it seemed possible, the moment had faded away, squandered in some morasse of unlikelihood.
