Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Back or front?”
“On your back, please. Naked and ready. Think of it as a different kind of massage table.”
It’s easy to get undressed living here with Heath, since I’m wearing virtually nothing day to day. I ditch my robe and dash over to climb up onto the table, positioning myself. This certainly isn’t the padded luxury I was lying on in the pamper room earlier, but it’s exciting. The table is a solid, light wood with enough space to stretch my arms up over my head and lay my legs flat.
“Who’s going to be the chef?” I ask, but Heath steps up with a finger over his lips.
“Tables don’t speak, remember.”
“Sorry.”
“In addition to that, tables don’t have eyes.” Heath pulls out a black satin blindfold from the pocket of his robe. I raise my head so he can fasten it in position. “Remember, curva, tables stay still. No moving. You’ll only get the reward if you pass the challenge.”
Apart from the blindfold, Heath doesn’t bind me. My limbs are free to move, and my body is able to squirm – which is going to make obeying commands so much harder. In bondage, there is no choice but to stay in position, but this kind of stillness is going to require some effort.
I know Heath is going to push me, but I’m going to succeed. I’ll be the best table in the world for even a glimpse at the new NW.
It feels like I’m waiting an age, blindfolded and bare on the top of Heath Mason’s table. I can hear the guys talking in the kitchen area – giving me lewd compliments amidst their general chatter. I hear pans and chopping boards being taken out and used, but besides from that there is no clue as to what’s on the menu. They could be making anything. Until I smell the onion in the air…
I hear the stirring of a pan. A sauce, maybe? Whatever it is smells delicious, and my stomach rumbles. It seems a long time since I ate last. The wood feels harder under my back, and my body has the instinct to move. To shuffle into a different position. But I don’t. I don’t break the proposal.
Somehow, even through the chatter and the dinner making, I know the guys will be keeping a close eye on my every movement. Or lack of it. It’s horny to be at the mercy of words on a piece of paper, but at the same time I wish I was a part of their duo, joining in on the kitchen action.
My stomach is rumbling hard when footsteps approach. I hear a guy on either side of me, and the clank of metal above.
“This is going to be delicious,” Heath says, from my left. “Nice and hot. Soup makes an excellent starter.”
And just like that, my rumbling stomach is covered in a thick river of liquid, so hot I hold my breath, because it hurts. The splatter really fucking scorches. I grit my teeth when the torrent dribbles over my tits, bracing myself until it begins to chill, and oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! The pan clanks before another load starts up, dribbling right onto my nipples as Heath lets out an mmm. Then the stream moves back down, more on my stomach… so hot and thick.
I know what’s coming before it happens. I try to stay still at the next pan clank, but it’s practically impossible as the ferocious heat of the liquid dribbles down onto my pussy. It really fucking burns.
I’m panting like crazy, muscles tense as I fight the pain. I can’t stop a whimper as fingers seek out my clit and begin to tease me.
“Beautiful,” Heath says. “Spread her wider, Josh, get ready for your starter.”
Wider?! Jesus, it’s going to burn so bad.
Josh splays my pussy lips and the pan clanks again. I grit my teeth hard, ready to be set on fire, but the pain gives way to pleasure in moments when it lands. Josh is there with a sweep of his pierced tongue in a millisecond, licking me clean.
“More, please,” he says, and another dribble of heat lands, my pussy lips still splayed wide and vulnerable – but Josh’s tongue is right there to save me from torture as he cleans me. His tongue keeps working, following the dribble of soup over my body wherever it goes. It’s a clash of sensations that work beautifully together – the scorch of pain followed by Josh’s horny, wet mouth.
Heath laughs when Josh starts sucking and lapping at my tits in a frenzy.
“Steady with the gobbling, Joshua. All three of us need to eat, remember?” I hear him step up to my head, with another clank of the pan. “Open your mouth, curva. Take your portion of soup. Your boyfriend is a great chef.”