Samara was a slim and attractive brunette girl, with full breasts and a wide sexy ass, though she somehow seemed a bit soulless. Maybe she felt fulfilled in being a 3 hole piece of fuckmeat, with all her needs taken care of by her Domme mother.
From the sexy grin she gave when she offered me her horny cunt juice, I could tell that she had her own lust in abundance, and it seemed her open 3 hole fuckmeat status suited her, in spite of the control she surrendered to her mother.
Looking mid to late 20's, she didn't seem to be held in servitude against her will. I decided that both mother and daughter were sexual predators sharing similar lustful pursuits.
Luckily, having had the snip, I had no concerns about any possibility of getting any women pregnant. I felt very liberated to shoot my load into any fuck hole.
My experience with subs was limited, and I had decided that maybe they had self-esteem issues, where they desperately needed to be useful, and that any physical pain they were subjected to was the price they were happy, or resigned, to pay to prove their usefulness. I respected them, immensely, for their gifts they so freely, offered.
Tara pushed my Samara enhanced glass of wine across the table, towards me.
From what I had dared taste of Samara's 'essence' earlier, it seemed sufficiently smooth textured, even slippery, like egg white. Just the way I preferred it.
From this man's perspective, it smelled sweet and on a primitive level, curiously inviting.
From my experience, a women's juices, particularly at ovulation time, is the best of a woman, from every perspective.
I know that most women dismiss their discharge as a sanitary part of everyday life, but I've always revered how it changes through their cycle.
I consider myself, bit of a sommelier on my partner's, 'ripeness', and 'hornyness'.
I've even delightfully discovered that it is sweetest deep inside near the cervix, at the source ... at ovulation time.
Yum, I thought, as pleasant memories came flooding back to me. I digress...
Staring off into space, I thought what the hell, as I gulped down the wine blended with Samara's juices and looked back with, admittedly with some sense of defiance, into Tara's approving eyes.
"Samara tasted, frankly delicious," thank you.
I did feel privileged, though.
"Imagine asking for that at the bar," I smirked, as I resisted the temptation to laugh out loud.
Tara, too was an attractive, even hot, older woman, untouched by her looming menopausal phase which she was probably about to enter. I wondered if she felt she needed to use her daughter to attract younger men to her. She didn't need to worry, as her I found her very sexy... and her toe, WOW!
As if she could read my mind, she said, "Of course, you can use her on this cruise, though I too have needs that must be tended to, as well..."
"Oh, and what might those be?" expecting her to want to form a randy threesome of consenting adults.
"Together, we offer 6 holes, but what we lack is a hard, strong cock and a set of large balls to milk and feed from," Tara explained.
"As a dominant, I expect that package to be attached to a strong man who will allow me to subject his mind and body to my will, and to offer their use in a similar way in which Samara offers hers."
As the thought of that began to set in, Tara asked, "Are you willing to wear a humbler? Do you even know what that is?"
"Yes, I do know what that is, but I won't do a lot of pain, if that's want you're wanting," I answered, not revealing that I too have sub tendencies when in the company of a confident dominant woman.
If the circumstances demanded it, that I should accept pain to demonstrate my willingness to satisfy Her needs and demands, so be it.
I think on a low level, we all want to satisfy what the other partner needs. Equally, the thought of fucking mercilessly all of Samara's willing holes excites the strong dominant side of me.
I'm still undecided as to how I might end up living the rest of my life: as a Dom, a sub, or even a switch, which is what seemed to be on offer, here.
"I am still exploring my sexuality, half expecting the circumstance I find myself being most comfortable with, long term, will decide how I spend the rest of my life," speaking frankly.
"I'll give you a night to think about this, and we should meet up in my stateroom to see if this could work," Tara suggested, thoughtfully, though curiously distracted.
"You do have some competition though, with someone we met last night who we are meeting tonight," Tara volunteered.
