A Funny Thing Happened...

Vibrata was finishing up: she tore her thong off, and threw it away—ok, snaps, but still; that had to hurt! She was naked except for stockings and heels, and she was magnificent. She smiled at Philia, winked at me, and then dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward Pseudolus. When she was maybe a foot away from his beanbag, she rose up on her knees, gave our poor slave a "Come fuck me" glare, and froze, as if buttoning a number. I snuck another peak at Sim's face; now he looked a little nervous.

Philia was the first to speak: "Oh my, should I do...that for Hero?"

I said: "No, Sweetheart. Do it your way the first time. We can show you other ways later." I leaned in towards our slave, letting him sense my closeness, even though I was talking to our slut-in-training, and I tried out my 'sexy Roman Human Development teacher' voice (Hey, I'm a professional!): "A real slut can talk with her body as well as her mouth. Every move you make sends your lover a message. So, when you took off your things, you were saying: 'I'm excited, but I'm inexperienced, and a little scared; please be gentle with me.' Guys love that," I leaned in closer and nipped the bottom of Pseudolus' ear. He jumped a little, and I whispered: "Don't they, Handsome?"

Our slave held very still. I'd bitten his ear again, and still had the lobe trapped gently between my front teeth. He sighed: "Yeah." But whether he was answering my question or responding to my teasing, I didn't know. And frankly, I didn't care. I liked making him sigh.

Philia gave me a sweet smile, which then turned mischievous: "I understand, Gymnasia. So...um...what did Vibrata just say?"

"Oh...I don't know," I straightened up reluctantly, and turned to Vibrata. "Were you going for 'Fuck me before I hurt you.' or 'Somebody get me three gladiators and a bucket of lube!'?"

Pseudolus chimed in, unexpectedly: "I think it was more like 'Tame me if you dare.'"

Vibrata gave our slave a long, speculative look. Then she smiled: "Nice translation, Slave." Then: "So how about it, Gymnasia? We're all naked. Why don't you talk to the man?"

14.

I love Liz, but she can be a real bitch sometimes. She'd just done maybe the hottest striptease ever, and now she was daring me: put up or shut up. I got the message loud and clear. "If you don't get your hot little ass in gear..." Not that I thought she'd move on Sim herself, although if all this playing and touching and teasing had gotten her half as hot and bothered as I was... For a moment I was at a loss. How do you follow...that? Then: "Pseudolus," I purred, "come sit with me on the couch."

A striptease is a tease, right? The stripper has all the power; she (or he) gets to decide how much to show, what to take off when, like that. My slave tucked his naked body into one corner of the couch, his right leg resting against the rear cushions, his left on the floor, and his semi-erect cock bobbing gently, as if pointing out a comfy spot opposite it. I sat in the other corner, all long legs and lingerie. I looked him in the eye and smiled. He returned the gaze and the smile. Then I dropped my eyes to his cock, brought them back up to meet his, puckered my lips, blew a silent kiss. No words; just body language. His eyes opened slightly. I stole another quick glance at his dick, saw it twitch, looked up again and smiled. I cocked an eyebrow, then ran a lazy finger down my shoulder and across my chest. I watched his eyes follow the finger, saw them rise again to check in with mine. I cocked the eyebrow again, brought a finger down to the little red bow covering the clip holding up my stocking, then allowed my hand to caress the roughness of the fishnets on my thigh and knee. A quick check: again his eyes followed my finger's lead. Last time: eyes on, cocked eyebrow, follow the finger, down my body, between my legs, tap, tap, tap: the damp little triangle of sheer black fabric over my newly bare pussy. Our eyes met once again; message received and understood: no tease here, Handsome. What will I take off and when? It's all up to you.

Sim held my eyes for what seemed like a long time. Finally he chuckled. I glared at him. He laughed out loud, that quick, sharp bark I'd heard the night of Wyatt's party. I was about to lean forward to strangle him when he locked eyes with mine again. His eyebrows arched, as if to say 'ready?' I winked: 'ready, if you're done yukking it up!' Then I watched his eyes.

For a long second, his eyes lingered on my lips, and his breathing deepened. I figured I knew what that meant. Then he seemed to follow the curve of my throat; his gaze felt like a caress, and now it was my turn to pant a little. Down across my breasts—I expected him to stop there, but he didn't. His eyes teased my belly, lingered for a second around my belly button, concealed by my cami, and then dropped to rest squarely on the sheer triangle of my thong. I saw his tongue peak out to moisten his lower lip, and I hoped I knew what that meant. Thinking about it had me dripping. His eyes stayed locked on my pussy for a moment, as if to emphasize his choice. Then up they came to meet mine, and up went the eyebrows: 'That first, please?'

The joke was on me apparently, because suddenly I was the one on fire with want! All the teasing, the role-playing, the seduction, all that had been designed to put Sim at ease, allay his fears, get him in the mood. And it had worked! The boldness of his choice proved it. He wanted me...available for when—and now he knew it would be 'when'—we couldn't take any more teasing. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but I was still Gymnasia, Wonder Slut, hottest whore in the brothel, for whom the unbridled lust of regiments was no more than her due. I gave my slave my most seductive smile, stood, turned my back to him, stuck my behind in the air, and lowered my thong slowly down my fishnet-ed forever legs. I gave my ass a saucy little wiggle, then straightened up, and turned back around, watching with delight as my slave drank in the sight of my newly bald pussy. He stared like a man dying of thirst in the desert might stare at an oasis, and I sat back down on the couch a foot closer to him than I had been. At last he brought his eyes back up to mine, and they were smiling, and he was smiling, and I was smiling, no longer the calculating smile of a seductress, but the goofy smile of a woman who might just be falling in love.

15.

I raised my eyebrows again. I wanted him to ask for the rest of it. Sim was still smiling, couldn't seem to stop, so he took a shortcut. He whispered: "Please leave the stockings?" I pouted, pretending to be disappointed that he didn't want to play any more, and I was rewarded with another catch in his breath, as he took in my protruding lower lip. Then I stood—facing him this time—bent down to unclip my garters and pulled the camisole over my head in a single motion, letting my big boobs bounce free, nipples proud and erect. Then I stood there, naked except for my fishnets and my fuck-me pumps, and watched my slave, my man, my soon-to-be lover lose himself staring at me.

I'll say this: the look on Sim's face was sure as hell flattering. Like everybody else, when I look in the mirror, I mostly see stuff I don't like: cheeks too chubby, face too round, shoulders too broad and bony, hair too...whatever. But Sim...well first of all, his entire body was leaning forward, as if he wanted to dive into me, or devour me, and believe me, I'd have been fine with either choice. His eyes flashed from my face to my chest to my hips to my legs, and then back again. I twirled slowly, and gave him an over-the-shoulder, pin-up style pose, and he groaned. No shit: he actually groaned as he caught sight of my ass. I turned again and glanced between his legs, and then it was my turn to stare. Age notwithstanding, Sim's cock was proud and erect, red and angry and swollen with need. For me. I knew it, and at the same time I wondered: Carolyn and Liz were two of the most beautiful women that I'd ever seen, but maybe beauty hadn't been enough. Maybe something in Sim was responding to my need, my desire for him. Whatever. Didn't matter. I felt chosen. I felt wanted, needed. I felt beautiful. And, surprise, surprise: I also felt horny as hell.

"Um...Philia," Liz's voice speaking behind me: "I think it's time for us to do your hair."

Sim started, stood up, and I turned around quickly. It had been a pre-arranged signal. When I felt ready for some private time with our slave, I was supposed to send Vibrata off with Philia to help prepare her for her wedding night. Both ladies had been happy to help me tease and arouse Sim, and Liz had offered to...go further if Sim had—it was a hard thought to have had—if he'd been into the idea of sex rather than specifically into...well...me. But the whole plan had been to get us together in a kind of playful way. Not too heavy, not too serious, nothing that looked, sounded or felt remotely like a pity fuck. We'd planned more stuff, more little teases, more games, but apparently Liz didn't see the need. Carolyn pouted a little; she'd been enjoying herself quite a bit, and Liz slapped her ass hard, with a resounding crack. Carolyn cooed. "And that's what we call confirmation." I thought to myself. "Naughty little Carolyn: gay or bi?" I'd wonder about that later. Liz caught my eye, grinned and winked. And then she and Carolyn were gone; in and out of the bathroom for their clothes, and then out the green room door headed God knows where, and to do God knows what, although once again, guessing: didn't take a rocket scientist. And then I forgot about them, because the door had clicked shut, and Sim and I stood facing each other, naked and alone, surrounded by beanbags, a comfy couch, and a twin bed covered with a red satin sheet.

16.

We stood and stared at each other for a long few seconds. The look on my poor man's face was priceless: desire, uncertainty, need, and what looked suspiciously like that kind of panicky urge you get to laugh in church. I figured he wasn't sure if the 'rehearsal' was over, and I thought it might help if I threw him another cue. So I stepped into him, until we were inches apart, and said: "So how about it handsome? Looking for a good time?"

His face relaxed. "Maybe, but how do I know you're not...um...what's Latin for 'cop?'"

"No idea, but you can do a body cavity search for a badge, if you'd like."

"Holy...maybe in a minute. Um...so how much do you..."

I cut him off. "No way could you afford me. I get more per hour than the emperor."

"Oh, then are we..."

I snaked my arms around his neck, and pulled him into me, pressing my body against his. I felt his arms wrapped around my back, the hair on his chest tickling my nipples. I reached down and took his cock in my hand, gave it a quick squeeze, then trapped it between us, positioning it so it sat hard and hot against the warm wet lips of my pussy. I traced the rim of his ear with the tip of my tongue and felt him shudder. Then I breathed: "Luckily for you, I'm feeling particularly slutty tonight, so I'll make you a special Valentine's Day offer: let me suck this lovely thick cock of yours,"—I thrust my hips forward, grinding my slit against him—"and I'm yours for the rest of the evening. How does that sound?" Then I continued exploring his ear and throat with my tongue.

I could feel his heartbeat racing as I kissed across the pulse in his throat, and his voice was a breathy whisper as he said: "That's a pretty generous offer..."

I pulled my head back and looked him in the eye. "What do you expect? I'm a courtesan. I don't know dick about negotiating..." I dropped my eyes to where his cock rested, pressed between our bodies, "but I'm super-good at negotiating my way around a dick." I looked back at his face: smiling but not laughing. "Oh, come on, that was pretty good!"

"Mezzo-mezzo."

Hey Buster, you want stand-up, or a hot little whore sucking your cock?"

"I can't have both?"

"Nope. I was always told it's impolite to talk with your mouth full. Now, are you going to take me up on my offer..."

He laughed. "Two conditions."

What the hell? "And they are?"

"First of all, can I call you Ginny now?"

"I can think of all sorts of things I want you to call me..." I purred.

"I mean instead of 'Miss Gymnasia.'"

"Oh, sure." That was easy. "What else?"

"Would you kiss me again, like you did when you came in?"

"Oh, Honey,"—all of a sudden I was happier than I could remember being pretty much ever. I brought my lips down and brushed his gently. Then I opened my mouth, felt his opening up with me; his tongue reached for mine, and I let him explore. There was a soft, erotic symphony of hums and sighs and purrs, and small wet sounds. I lost track of who they were coming from. His lips were soft and smooth, his face a little rough, and his tongue somewhere in between. He tasted a little salty, and maybe a little minty, like he'd had an Altoid or a Tic-Tac or something not too long ago. He tasted wonderful, smelled wonderful, felt wonderful, and when our lips finally slid away from each other—his to my throat, and mine to his ear—I was the one doing the panting.

"Sim...oh Baby...God, I could kiss you for days...but...I meant what I said a minute ago."

"What...did you... Sorry, Gin...you kiss...I might just forget my name! What..?"

"I really, really want to suck your cock...can I, please?"

He gave what sounded like a shaky laugh. "Well, if you really feel strongly about it..."

"And Sim, do you know what else I really want?"

"What?"

"I want you to tell me to do it."

"Okay, I can do that." The Little Engine that Could. Then he brought his lips to my throat and planted light, teasing kisses up toward my ear. His breath was warm, and I felt as much as heard him breathe: "Get down on your knees and suck my cock, you beautiful slut."

17.

I kissed him over to the bed, and when I felt the back of his legs bump up against it, I gave him a little push. "Have a seat," I said, and winked. "I like my man to be comfortable." He did, and I turned my back and walked away from him, swinging my hips, letting him watch my ass twitching above the fishnets. When I'd gotten about eight feet away, I tuned around and put my hands on my hips. "Like what you see, Handsome?"

He nodded: "Goddamn, Ginny, you're gorgeous!"

I giggled: "Glad you think so. Now, Mr. Brownstone," I gave him my naughty schoolgirl voice, "I want you to look at my tits, OK?"

I watched his eyes drop to my chest, and I brought my hands up, cupping my breasts, offering them to him. "I know how much you like them. I like that you like them. Now in just a sec, I'm going to get on my hands and knees and crawl over to you, so that I can put your cock in my mouth like the naughty little slut I am. While I'm crawling, I want you staring at my big boobs. Think about squeezing them, sucking them, fucking them, whatever keeps that lovely dick of yours hard. Think you can do that?"

Sim seemed to have lost control of the muscles in his lower jaw again. He thought about closing his mouth, did that, and then thought some more. Finally he said: "Depends. Am I going to get to do any of those wonderful things, 'cause if not, I'm walking out of here right after you blow me and...ok, I was going to say 'blowing my brains out', but somehow that's not quite what I'm going for..."

I laughed out loud. "Sim, Sweetie, I'm the one who's going to blow your brains out...or loose, or something, and then yes, Baby, yes, Lover, YES! Don't you get it yet? You can do whatever you want with me. All I've been thinking about for the past month is how badly I want you. Now will you please shut up and let me blow you?"

"Me shut up? You're the one who keeps saying stuff which...just completely...I'm just so...Ginny...I..." He looked like he was about to explode with frustration and want and who knew what else. Game over. It was time for me to give my man his Valentine's Day present, or for him to give me mine.

I walked over to him, and knelt in front of him: "Hush, Sweetie, shhh. It's OK. You're right I've been talking and teasing too much. Can I just ask you one more thing?"

"Sure, Gin, and I'm sorry...I just..."

I reached up and put a finger across his lips.

"Sim, do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Ginny...yes. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I felt like somebody had poured me full of warm honey. But then I thought: enough talk; tell him later. So I looked into his eyes and said: "Well, do you think I might be just a little more beautiful with your cock in my mouth?" It wasn't a fair question, so I didn't wait for an answer. Instead I reached up and wrapped a hand around his shaft, gave the head of his dick a quick kiss, and then I took his whole length into my warm, wet mouth, and began to suck.

18.

I'd always liked pleasuring a man with my mouth, but usually it was the fact of giving pleasure rather than the act itself which I enjoyed. But there was just something about Sim. He tasted good: salty and musky and maybe a little soapy, and his pre-cum which had been leaking from the tip was sweet and syrupy. I'd begun by taking him all in, and now I bobbed my head up and down his shaft, getting him nice and wet, and making sloppy little sucking and slurping sounds while I hummed and cooed. I wanted my man to know how much his little slut was enjoying her treat. I could hear Sim's breath rasping in his throat, and every now and then little growls and grunts of pleasure; a sad little sigh when I popped him out of my mouth turned into a series of breathy little pants when I drew my tongue around the head like I was licking an ice-cream cone. I found a sensitive spot in the little v-shaped cleft at the bottom of the head just below the tip, and I fluttered the tip of my tongue against it, smiling up into Sim's eyes as he groaned and swore. Then I decided to have mercy on him, and I lowered my mouth back down onto his shaft for a long, slow, sloppy suck.

"Ohh God, Gin! Ohhhh that feels so good! Oh please, yeah, just like that. Mmmmmm!"

I was in heaven, and I answered his groans, my dirty talk punctuated by obscene licks and slurps and sucks: "You like that, Baby? Oooh, your cock tastes so good! All hard and thick and wet! You like to feel my slutty lips...ummmm...just sliding up and down your nice big shaft. Oooh, look how tight your balls are getting? You want me to lick them too? Huh, Baby, you want me to get your balls all nice and wet and sticky?"

Sim's reply might have been "Please!", but I couldn't be sure. I decided to go for it anyway. I grabbed his shaft, pushed it up against his body, and took each hard little sphere between my lips, sucking gently, and running my tongue over the rough, hairy skin of his sack. When I'd given each of his balls thorough sucking, I ran by tongue up the length of his prick and popped the head back between my lips. I sucked him hard for a minute or two; then I popped him out again.

"Mmmm, that was nice! Did you like that? I did. I must be a nasty little whore to suck on your balls like that, huh?" No response. "Know what your cock-hungry little slut is going to do now?" I sucked and slurped on him hard and fast, making his cock nice and wet and slippery. I think he tried to answer me, but he wasn't making much sense. I sucked him deep until I felt his pubic hair tickling my nose, then I slowly withdrew. "She's going to put your cock right between her big soft titties. You want to fuck my tits, don't you, Baby? Tell this slutty courtesan how badly you want to tit-fuck her."

Sim was barely coherent: "Oh...God, yes! I want to...to...I, shit, I want...to you...you to...please...goddamn that feels so...yes! Want to...tit-fuck...your beautiful...oh God! Want to...please...put my...cock...between..."