Fine Italian Wine: Chapter 01 - Sex Stories

Fine Italian Wine: Chapter 01

... head or shift positions. Her vagina was wet with semen. A new flow of womanly passion juice joined the semen in her cunt, and she suppressed the urge to go into uncontrolled trembling. Despite the extreme treatment, her passion was rising. If this is pleasing my master, it is pleasing me, she thought. Her cunt began to flow. She felt an orgasm sweep over her, but resisted the urge to moan or tremble. She suppressed everything except the sensual enjoyment of her orgasm. *** Sherri heard footsteps approaching behind her. She felt joy! Now her master was coming for her. Suddenly, she realized that there were more than one set of footsteps. Was it two sets? Was it three sets of footsteps? She was almost trembling in anticipation. Suddenly the footsteps stopped. She could hear breathing. “Stand up! Don’t turn.” It was James. He offered her the goblet. It had been refilled. “Drink!” Sherri took the goblet and put it to her lips. Again, the bouquet and taste was the same. She swallowed it down without moving her head. Someone took the goblet. “Walk!” Sherri obeyed. A series of taps with the crop told her which way to go. He directed her back up the stairs to the bedroom. The second person – or was it two persons – followed behind. She could not see them. Once in the bedroom, James placed a blindfold over her eyes. “I want you to give pleasure with your body only. No other senses other than your touch can be allowed. You must give pleasure with your soul!” He laid her on the bed and ...

... spread her legs… *** Sherri took a drag from her joint. Her headlights parted the darkness ahead of her car. The wind was blowing over her face. She glanced in the mirror. Her head was covered by a tribal headdress. She looked down at the flowing robe she was wearing. It was different from the one she'd worn to James’ apartment. When she arrived home, the lights were out. She glanced at the clock. It was one o’clock! She quickly undressed and walked into the bedroom. Stew was snoring. Sherri slipped under the covers and went to sleep with an aura of sex surrounding her, and cum oozing out of her vagina and anus. *** She awoke when a ray of sunlight flooded over her face. Stew was gone. She got up and stretched. She was nude. She walked to the mirror. A colorful tattoo covered her right shoulder. She looked at her hands. Henna designs covered the backs of both hands. She looked at her body. A floral vine started at her hip and wound its way down her right leg. It stopped on the flat surface atop her foot. Sherri gasped. Her mind raced back. She remembered James taking her to the tattoo parlor. She remembered lying on the table. She remembered the sound of the needle. She looked, and the tribal dress and hat were lying in a heap in the middle of the bedroom floor. Poor, dumb-ass Stew, he never notices anything except golf, sports, and his job, she thought. Sherri started to step into the shower but changed her mind. She made a bath. Like a ritual, she opened the bottle of oil ...