The Card Game

A part of me didn't mind at all that every man in the room had given every ounce of their attention to me as soon as my tits cleared the doorway. I could feel their desire, see it in their eyes. I could see stirrings going on between each of their legs as they shifted or outright stroked their cocks as they watched me. I could feel the tension in the room grow as I stepped past the reclining forms and made my way back to the table. I could feel the tingling and tightness in my nipples as they hardened and grew, signaling my continuing arousal in the same way their lengthening and hardening dicks signaled theirs.

My nipples are always a deep pink, and as they continued to swell, their color deepened to magenta, and they contrasted even more than usual against the very light skin of my breasts. And I was not the only one who noticed this.

They were all pretty much aware that my man was perfectly willing to have me service their needs, at least to some extent. And even those dicks that had deposited a first load of cum on or in a few cases, in me, were now aroused at the sight of my hard nipples adorning firm but bouncing tits, and my plump but firm ass being shown off by the high heels. Oh, and the fact that the high heels were all I was wearing- well, the seven cocks of various sizes , shapes and colors were all beginning to add their own hardness to the hardness of my nipples. Just like my nipples, they were signaling that there was another growing round of sexual arousal and fulfillment on the horizon.

Just how willing my man was to offer my body to these guys, I was about to discover. First he

rose slowly as I approached, smiling a little lazily, very sexily, and keeping my attention. He reached for my champagne glass. Still smiling that sexy smile, he refilled it with bubbly, but then pulled out a bottle.

"La Belle Orange, a bit sweet, a little bitter, a little sharp but so smooth, this will enhance the champagne like your body enhances our desire".

And with that, he added a large splash of the liqueur and raised the glass to my lips. I sipped, then sipped again, enjoying the taste of the orange mixing with the champagne. I felt the rising heat in my body as the liquor added to the effect of what I'd already drunk. I was beginning to feel just the slightest bit tipsy, starting to care less about any remaining modesty and to enjoy the attention that these gentlemen were giving me. I even began to put on a bit of a show- twisting and moving more than I had to, in order to let them enjoy the bounce and sway of my titties.

Suddenly, my arms were wrapped from behind into an embrace that kept my tits bared and jutting into the circle of men. With my arms pulled back, they thrust higher and further into the air. Gently but firmly, I was moved backwards to a chair. Silky ties appeared in the hands of four of the men, and while the one holding me kept me firmly under control, my wrists and my ankles were bound to the chair.

Always solicitous, my man lifted the champagne to my lips again. Not being in a position to do anything about the four sets of hands that were first binding me, then beginning to stroke the bound limbs, I drank deeply and then deeply again. The warming buzz in my head would hold me through this next scene.

Now it seemed that all seven men had silken ties in their hands. My arms were tied to the sides of the chair, pulling back slightly but not uncomfortably. My legs, tied at the ankles to the legs of the chair, barely concealed my pussy. And not for long- now a man with a very hard dick positioned himself in front of me and with a strong movement, spread my legs and moved his kneeling body between them. Two others immediately tied my knees to the upper part of the chair legs, and my pussy was exposed to the man in front of me and to the others who crowded in to view that mound covered with silky hair. I could tell that my plump pussy lips still partially concealed my clit and the opening they each longed to pierce, because one after another, several sets of fingers were stroking and needing those plump lips. I could feel them swelling, and my clit began to throb.

The man in front of me stretched his piece of fabric out long, tweaking a nipple as he did so. With it stretched from tit-level to my knees, he brushed it softly against my mound, back and forth. The movement radiated from my swollen pussy lips and transferred to tease my clit. He slowly increased the pressure on it, as the heat from within and from the alcohol raised my arousal. Ever so slowly, he worked the silk between my pussy lips, eventually touching the hardened nub of my clit. Faster and faster he worked the fabric, picking up the wetness that was beginning to flow from my pussy. I was losing my struggle to keep in control, and began to succumb to the effects of the champagne, the liqueur and the blatant sexuality of the men's intentions.

As the fabric continued to rub my clit rhythmically, my belly tightened and knotted as an orgasm built. I was riding the beginning of the upward wave, when hands began to touch every exposed bit of my skin. Fingers stroked my neck, plucked at my nipples both hard and gently, kneaded my swelling breasts, played down my belly and over my exposed thighs. The touches and the friction of the fabric were irresistible.

My whole body convulsed as a massive orgasm shot through me. Every fiber throbbed, pulsed, exploded. I contracted again and again, while these infinite hands and fingers continued to possess me. I was barely able to register how many men were touching me. And I gradually became aware that some of what was touching me was no longer just their hands, but cocks ready to give my explosion a competition.

Suddenly there was not really a word but a signal. The insistent cocks and searching fingers drew back slightly. And now the silken ties in two of the men's hands were being wrapped around my lust swollen tits, tightly, digging into their bases. The material compressed the circumference of each tit, forcing the mass of titty flesh forward and upward into a very hard cone crowned with darkening pink nipples. A third tie was wrapped around both tits, pulling them together slightly, then crossed over my shoulders and tied off to the back of the chair. Now I could not even squirm much, with the tie holding my shoulders tight to the chair, while securing my tits in their upward attitude.

All the men took a long moment to admire their handiwork. My tits were flushing, being compressed and squeezed tightly by the bindings. My nipples, still free from any constraint, were also showing the effects of the bindings, turning dark ruby red and getting harder as the blood flowed to them. My legs were still spread-eagle, with the moistness of my pussy scenting the room. And seven cocks all stood at attention in front of this tableau.

I realized this was no longer subject to the rules of a card game. It had gone way beyond that. In fact, my man held all the cards, and he had a winning hand no matter what the cards on the table read. And the cards that I thought would buy the end of this evening on my terms? They were as useless as the card-stock they were printed on. The thought of "winning" was now gone from my champagne-confused head.

A blondish man now knelt in front of me. Was he the one who'd brought me to such a crescendo a few minutes ago? I wasn't entirely sure. The individuals who I'd battled and controlled within the structure of the card game now blended into a group, their identities receding in my mind. Just as I was a collection of parts- female, delectable, enticing parts- in their minds, they were becoming disconnected heads, hands, and cocks. Which sets of eyes devoured my exposed and captive tits? Which eyes could not be parted from my semi-exposed pussy? Whose hands were beginning to stroke those cones of breast flesh, spilling over from the bindings and heated from compression? Whose tongue, whose lips, whose dick...?

The room was warm, the champagne had made me unable to think and strategize. And it was taking me past caring, because there was nothing I could do in this position anyway. I had no choice, but to take what was coming.

The stroking and exploration had begun. From every side, every angle, there was a fingertip exploring some part of my captive body. My hyper-sensitized nipples were being plucked, rolled, stroked and pinched by fingers that came in all shapes and colors. Over one tit, a mouth descended. His lips locked around my nipple, his tongue teasing the tip while his teeth nipped, pulling up the swollen nipple from aureola to the very tip. As quickly as it came in, it was replaced by a second mouth, also savoring the taste and the texture of my pink buds. Then fingers pinched that same tit, latching onto the nipple and pulling hard to extend my distorted breast as far as it would go. Other sets of fingers stroked the boob itself, seemingly fascinated by the bulging tit-flesh above the bindings, by the stretched upper half of the tit that was held so tightly by pinching fingers grasping my reddened nipple. Over and over they stroked. Others did the same to my other tit. Now someone was kneading that tit with his whole hand, leaving just the nipple exposed for another man's mouth. That man's lips were pursed to suction just the nipple left to his pleasure, and he groaned with that pleasure, and I heard myself groaning, too.

I leaned my head back, running out of energy to participate in this game. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that many of the men had the hand that was not exploring me busy working on their dicks. Some were moving at a fast pace, while their mouths devoured me. I could feel one mouth on one of my ass cheeks, which evidently had been positioned just free of the seat of the chair. He was crouched on the floor, teeth embedded in my ass, sucking and biting as if he was the only one in the room besides me. His hand was furiously pumping his dick, which rose long and straight, engorged and moist, pointed right at my ass. As he bit harder, causing a yelp to escape my mouth, that dick began pumping his next load right onto my ass. He released his bite, and his throbbing dick sent the next stream of cum onto the place where his teeth had bitten me. I could feel a sting, and I knew that the skin had been broken, along with what was undoubtedly a brilliant hickey bruise, and the cum was salving that broken skin.

Suddenly, a new sensation distracted me. While the many fingers, hands and mouths continued to dominate my tits, the man in the main position, the one between my legs, began to stroke my pussy. Other hands joined his- three sets? Four? - stroking my thighs, hips, belly and the mound of gold above my pussy lips. Now fingers parted those lips.

There were fingers coming from all directions there. Must be at least four men concentrating on my thighs and my pussy. The attention to my titties continued unabated, but now multiple fingers were stroking, tickling and gently kneading my swelling pussy lips. I could tell that the other three were enjoying their trip along my inner thighs, across my pussy and up my mound, but the man in the middle wasn't going to let them have the honey hole. One finger pinched, another ran a fingertip along one lip, another traced lines up my thighs. Softly, the man in the middle drew back the lips of my pussy. There, totally exposed to his sight, and to the sight of the others concentrating there, I knew my clit was engorged and very sensitive.

For several minutes, they continued to explore between my legs but not touch my clit. But I could tell by the air circulating, it was completely exposed to them. One's hot breath blew across it. Another kneaded the pussy lip to its right, rubbing against the clit-flesh but not allowing a finger to touch. The energy and excitement being generated there distracted me from the continuing assault on my boobs, but even the pace of the tit-men had slowed as they watched the actions concentrated on my lower half.

Suddenly, a finger flicked my clit. I jumped with reaction, as much as I could, considering my bindings. Again, just a touch. Now a longer stroke down from my pussy mound, with what was obviously a fingertip tracking its way from top to bottom of my clit and inner pussy. Now, again, on the other side. Although my clit had already ridden its way through 3 or 4 wild orgasms this night, it was beginning to respond to the attention it was being given. My clit quivered in anticipation of the next stroke. Seconds seemed to stretch, hot breaths wafted over my waiting pussy. Finally, his thumb pressed down on my clit, starting a rhythmic pulse against it. His fingers, first one, then a second, hovered at the edge of my opening, circling the rim of my vagina. I could feel the fluid flowing from my pussy, lubricating the fingers that teased it and the thumb promising my clit another explosion. Then forcefully yet smoothly, those fingers sank all the way in. His hand now cupped the whole area, fingers sunk to the hilts and thumb continuing to assault my clit. Then slowly the fingers withdrew, only to forcibly slam back into my depths.

The rhythm picked up. Now the man found that special spot within a woman's pussy, that bundle of nerves that promised throbbing pleasure. His fingers knew where to probe, when to pull back and when to plunge as deep as their length allowed. His thumb continued to push and release against my clit, while I was being driven to excitement and to the peak of pleasure by his fingers. And in the back of my consciousness, I was aware of the men stroking any part of my bound and exposed body. My nipples registered the attention being paid to them with electric shocks that seemed to target my clit and deep within my sex hole simultaneously, contributing to the orgasm growing within its depths. A spattering of fluid against the sides of my tit-cones reminded me that I was not the only one getting pleasure from the action going on here. There were groans and panting from many mouths, mine included, and it seemed like hard dicks were pressing against every part of me.

The hand at my pussy was not going to be ignored. The heat, the moisture and the swollen lips of my cunt were all contributing to the peak of arousal that I had no choice but to be consumed by. One moment, all I could concentrate on was the assault on my pussy. Then a sharp tweak to a nipple drew my attention for a millisecond of awareness. Then a hard and seemingly huge dick, attached to one or another of the men who had now merged into an indistinct group, was thrusting against my bound tits, pushing against the swells of breast flesh and spurting hot cum against them. And still the hand stroked and teased... heat built within me, and suddenly exploded. My clit throbbed, my pussy throbbed, the physical release shuddered through my body. Wave after wave of shear sensation rolled from my pussy to the center of my belly. And just as it began to recede and the reality of what was going on around me came back into focus, the man between my legs withdrew his hand, but reached instead for something that lay at his side.

A dildo of large proportion appeared in his hand. Made of clear, blue tinted gel and obviously molded from a real man's dick, this toy was going to penetrate me next. It had a large head, realistic but oversized, as if it captured the most aroused and swollen instant of a large cock's existence, the moment after a long period of teasing foreplay, the moment when it had stroked inside a woman's wet and willing pussy, the moment just before the streams of hot fluid would begin coursing through it and emptying into its partner. The man held the blue dick up for a moment, so I'd see what was about to part my pussy lips and plunge into its depths.

Laying the blue dick against my still-throbbing pussy opening, he paused. Reminding me that there were others invested in this scene, several of the men muttered encouragement to him, "sink it in her" "see if she'll take that thing". And with a swift plunge, he pushed the dildo as deep as it would go in my pussy.

I moaned, and got a dick thrust into my mouth for my efforts. The big dildo spread my pussy and stretched it, just as the cock in my mouth stretched my lips and jaws. Pumping at both ends, the man wielding the dildo matched the rhythm of the man about to spill his load down my throat. And many other men continued to pinch, suck and bite at my bound titties, hips and belly. A few strokes, and the flow of cum spewed down my throat while the man it was attached to battered my mouth and worked his hands into my hair.

Finally, spent, he withdrew his softening dick. But the blue dildo remained, stretching my pussy even as the man holding it let go and stood.

Something was changing. I could feel it. The man made some kind of signal to the others in the room. Hands withdrew, men pulled slightly away from my body, still bound to the chair. And suddenly, from behind, a blindfold was slipped over my eyes.

The darkness was complete, and I heard no sound except slightly heavy breathing from various spots surrounding me. The heat from bodies around me was palpable, but for a few seconds, there was no movement.

The silken bonds held me securely in the chair. One tie secured each wrist to the sides of the hard chair, arching my upper back very slightly and tilting my tits forward and up. And those tits were securely bound by their ties, now slightly aching as they trapped engorged blood in the mounds of titty above each tie. I could feel the heat from the bondage to my tits, and my nipples throbbed from too much stimulation, too many bites and kisses and friction of what felt like hundreds of hands stroking and stretching them. I could feel their hardness and I imagined that they were now a very dark red, rather than my natural pink and tan color. Certainly there was nothing "natural" in the erect shape that the bonds forced them into, but I knew not a man who was enjoying the sight was critical of their shape, even though none of them seemed to mind my slightly sagging, heavy globes when they were originally freed from the confines of bra and shirt. Oh, no... their eyes had admired, then lusted and coveted, and because they had won access to those tits, their fingers and mouths had quickly followed. Now exposed but formed by bonds, they had a new visual stimulation, and I suspected that it was having the usual effect that sexually explicit or even suggestive visuals had on men. At least some of the potent dicks were undoubtedly regaining their vigor and planning their next assault, conquest and release.

My thoughts became aware of my lower regions. My legs were still bound to the chair by the ankles, but now I was fully exposed, my knees having been spread and at some point tied off to the chair as well. I could not remember this happening, but then, so much was being done to my breasts, my ass, my legs and my pussy that a simple additional point of restraint had gone unnoticed.

A glass of champagne, this time with far more LaBelle Orange in it from the taste and smell, was forced to my lips and I drank deeply, both to quench my thirst and to wash down the remainder of the cum that had been shot into my mouth and throat. The Orange Liqueur burned a bit and warmed me further, causing me to sweat

So here I sat, with even my most secret spots exposed to many sets of eyes. I had lost count of how many- some, I'd sensed, had spilled what they could muster of their man-juices, then perhaps watched for a while, building up their own personal porn-reel that they could run through their minds whenever they needed a bit of stimulation for their fantasies. I reflected briefly on the reality that I'd be their own personal porn star in their future late-night solo masturbations. Not sure if this was a turn-on or a nightmare, I left that thought alone.