Fine Italian Wine: Chapter 03 - Sex Stories

Fine Italian Wine: Chapter 03

... only symbolic, but the effect was real. She tried to scream, but a leopard’s roar came out of her mouth. The shaman danced around her. Leopard-Sherri continued to roar until she collapsed. She was hanging by her bound wrists. Sherri watched as the leopard-priest reached into the fireplace and produced a tattoo needle. He walked around behind her. Sherri felt the needle touch her left buttock. She roared as the needle created a design. Leopard-woman Sherri was released from the posts and placed on the bed. Someone carefully covered her tattoo. *** Sherri was lying on her stomach by the pool. She had not been in the water for two days. A bandage on her left buttock reminded her why. She looked down and turned the page of a magazine featuring tribal art and naked African men in tribal regalia. Her phone rang. Sherri picked it up. Sherri started to speak, but a leopard’s roar came out. She cleared her throat. “Hello?” “Hi! It’s me, Veronica. What was that?” “Never mind. Hi sweetie. How’s your honeymoon?” “Oh, it was dreamy, Sherri! Clive and I made out on the beach and then went to a Jamaican club last night.” “How’s Aldo?” “He's still sick,” Veronica said giggling. “What’s Clive like?” “He’s tall and buff. He has an enormous penis. I’m too embarrassed to tell you everything. Hey! Here he comes. I’ve got to go!” Veronica hung up. “ What’s it like for Aldo to spend his entire honeymoon in a bedroom ,” Sherri thought. She started laughing at the pathetic white boy. Steward came ...

... out. Sherri decided to get him to remove her bandage and examine it. “Hey baby. Would you remove my bandage?” Sherri cooed. “Sure.” Stewart carefully peeled off the bandage and exposed the tattoo. It was fully healed. Stew looked at it carefully. “What does it look like?” “It’s healed. Does it hurt? It’s some kind of a design. Perhaps it’s a symbol,” he said. Sherri turned through the pages of the tribal art magazine she was holding until she came to a symbol identical to the one on her butt. She read it carefully and compared the image with her tattoo. She read it again. 'The symbol is Kordafan and means that the woman is a temple whore and the possession of the high priest ,' she read. “May I read it,” Stew asked meekly. “Sure, go ahead,” Sherri said, pushing the book to him. She knew the meaning would send him over the edge. She watched as Stew carefully read it, glancing up occasionally to compare the symbol with the tattoo on her buttocks. His lips were moving as he read. “Oh my god, Sherri! You have been tattooed as a prostitute!” Stew exclaimed. “Of course! I told you that was the purpose of the ceremony,” she said. Her voice displayed irritation at him. She looked at his pants. He was tenting. “Put your hand on my mark,” Sherri whispered. Stew’s hand was shaking as he touched it. “Take out your cock and stroke it,” she whispered, looking at his penis. Almost robotic, Stew removed his pathetic white penis and began to masturbate until white semen oozed out of his failing ...