Chilled Scotch and a Cocktail Dress

(with all apologies to my Muse, you know who you are.)

You and I go cruising for for our sexy little servant, a servant to our every need and desire that we can boot out into the night once we’re satiated. I’m in some expensive threads, you have the kind of black little cocktail dress that always gets you noticed by both men and women. Alone we’re each something to behold. Together we are a force. People look at us like we’re something different, something more. And we are.

We have our pick of the room and we know it. I leave the choice to you. It doesn’t matter to me, what matters to me is that the chemistry is right for you. And her. And I know that your taste will please me. It always does. You do not disappoint. She joins us for a drink. We flirt. The whole room gets hotter as all three realize it’s on. The two of you are off to the ladies room, I wait, a fine scotch in my hands.

Once inside the washroom, you push her up against the stall, pull her hair at the nape of her neck, your hand between her legs. You know where to touch and how to touch her. You’re both breathing heavy. You whisper her the deal as you finger her Klit with one hand, now pulling lightly on the g-string from the back with your other: she is to be for our amusement. She is to do whatever you or I say. And when we tell her to leave she is to do so. It is agreed. She will do anything we say, wants nothing more than to please us. You could rub her off right there, give her a quick and harsh orgasm right there in the bathroom but you stop short. You tell her we must return, that I don’t like to be kept waiting. And it’s true.

You return to the table and I’m speaking with another girl that I shoo away like a fly as you approach. You sit beside me, she sits across from us. I open my mouth and you insert the finger that had recently been inside her. She knows we have discussed the whole thing before. I taste her Kunt on your finger and approve. So we go.

-iSC