Who's Vanilla Now? Ch. 01

As if to illustrate her point, Rachel bobbed down taking my cock in her warm mouth, her lips closing over the shaft as her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. I leaned back against the padding, enjoying the treat. Her fingers caressed my balls as she pumped the base of my cock with her fist. Returning the favour, I reached my hand across. Taking my time, I stroked her thigh softly, gradually tracing a path around the leg to rub the tender flesh around her pussy.

Rachel's head was pistoning up and down feverishly, inspiring me to pick up my tempo as my fingers entered her. My repeated erections were amazing, but what really impressed me was how wet Rachel was. As soon as I touched her, juices seemed to ooze out onto the bench. Her muscles contracted around my fingers, drawing my fist deeper.

Meanwhile, Monique entered behind the looking glass. She still wore her dramatic cape. She acted as if she was unaware that the mirror was a window, slowly fixing her lipstick, then twirling, admiring how her cape swung. The spinning motion caused the cape to billow open, confirming Monique now wore the corset set Rachel had admired, but so far only hinting at the wonders it would display.

With a dramatic twirl, Monique brought her gloved hands to her throat, parting the clasp holding the cape shut. On the next spin, the cape swung free, floating in mid air around Monique, and then settling to the floor. Monique froze, holding a position with her boot clad feet wide apart, her arms crossed covering her breast, fingers forming a mask, behind which she grinned, her twinkling eyes contrasting with the somber make up.

The show was so impressive that Rachel paused to watch, my cockhead snared half in and half out of her mouth, her tongue frozen against the flap of skin on the underside. With a hand deep inside her cunt, I could feel the slowing of her breathing, the shallow panting of deepest passion. 'Definitely not vanilla now,' I thought, 'and definitely at least bi curious, cause Monique is really turning Rachel on. Me too for that matter.'

I must have groaned without realizing it, because Rachel responded, "my words exactly, and I bet it gets even better."

We didn't wait long to see. Monique turned away, her back to us, legs still spread. I admired the musculature of her buttocks clenched tight, exposed flesh quivering in the gap between corset, thong, garter belt and stockings. Monique flung her arms wide and high, like an evangelist beseeching her god. She pumped her knees once, bouncing slightly, then did a half pirouette so she faced us again, her entire body exposed within the filmiest garments.

"That's much sexier than naked," Rachel observed. I was too busy taking in how Monique's nipple rings trembled from inertia to reply. The tiny gold rings, topped pert slender nipples no longer cluttered with nipple clamps, which extended boldly away from her round firm breasts. The top of the corset rose to support the mounds, lifting them in demi cups, but exposing them to air and view.

"Would you call those half grapefruit?" Rachel asked, and then nibbled the soft flesh under my cockhead, causing me to wince before I replied.

"More like half apples."

"Definitely not Spartan apples though."

"No, I'm sure they are some shade of Delicious." I repaid Rachel for the wince by squeezing her clit without warning. Her hips jumped off the bench as she yelped. She crushed my balls in her hand, escalating the painful play. I was quickly distracted by Monique, who lowered her hands to cup her tasty looking tits. Her thumbs flicked the nipple rings, grazing the nubbins themselves. She hooked each ring on a baby finger, the flesh of the breast still resting in her palms. Slowly, she rolled her hands around the sides and tops of her cleavage, never releasing the ever growing nipples from the self torture.

My eyes were glued to Monique, but I heard Rachel groan, so I assumed she was just as enraptured. If this was still a game, Rachel was winning at least this round. My fingers, though still buried deep inside her, were neglecting their chores. Rachel however seemed to be inspired by Monique to ever increasing efforts with her tongue and fingers.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your balls, may I kiss them better?" She did not wait for a reply, planting a gentle kiss on each nut, and then sucking them one at a time inside the warmth of her mouth. She rolled each testicle in turn inside its pouch, wrapping her tongue around the ball, and then bouncing the weight. As she swallowed one, her fingernails grazed the mate. After suckling each in turn, she licked the flesh of my scrotum, pressing it back into my body, flattening her tongue and lapping like a dog, making big movements with her whole upper body. As she did this, I watched Monique, wondering if perhaps the "mirror" was more like two way glass, and if she could see us as well. I rewarded Rachel by rubbing her breasts as I twirled her clit between my fingers.

Monique continued her slow sexy tease, rolling her naked tits in her palms, and then gliding her hands slowly down her sides, writhing in pleasure. Was it real or an act? At this point, I was beyond caring. Monique's blood red tongue slid slowly around her painted lips. She spoke, revealing for the first time that the show booth was equipped for sound. "Imagine this is your cock my tongue is tasting. Or your clit, milady. I could be your maid in your mansion, instructed to dress like this for your enjoyment. Or perhaps to be shown off to your friends, as proof of your success? Am I just another trophy? Or do you want to ride me, like one of your ponies? Will you whip me if I'm bad?"

She grabbed a short quirt I had not noticed off the wall, and tapped her butt just once, playfully. She enacted a dramatic hop in response to the supposed pain, thrusting her pelvis forward, and then bending, her hips tilting back, her cleavage dangling towards me in all its ripeness.

Rachel's tongue was busily swooping around my shaft in figure eight curls, her hand pumping the base. Trying to forestall cumming at just this point, I slowed the pace of my hand inside her womb, and said, "You're missing quite a show."

She glanced up from my lap, first at Monique, then at me. "I was always a doer more than a watcher. But you relax and enjoy."

With that, she nibbled the tender tip of my cock.

Monique drew the whip out from behind her back, sliding it up her body as if an unseen master was using it to lever her upright. She caressed each breast with the woven end of the flogger, starting by rolling the weight from underneath, lifting the flesh with the quirt. After she repeated this on each side, she ran the lash around the top, and down between her mounds. Finally, she flicked each aroused nipple violently, wincing convincingly as she did so. I yelped in unison with her wince, as Rachel brutally squeezed my balls, prompting precum to ooze out my slit. She lapped at it hungrily, picking up droplets on the tip of her tongue. This raised her head so that her eyes were focused towards Monique, whose lips mimicked Rachel's perfectly, except the sales clerk was licking the tip of a whip, not a cock.

Monique began mock fellating the butt end of the whip as she leaned back against the rear wall of her cupboard, legs splayed, fingers buried deep inside her pussy. Rachel copied this, deep throating my cock. I supplied the fingers, but Rachel grasped my hand to remind me to keep them moving. Much more of this, I knew we would all three cum together. Not a bad plan, but I needed to retain the upper hand with Rachel, and control was rapidly slipping away, or at least about to be pumped away up my shaft into her waiting mouth.

Fortunately, Monique and Rachel came first, though as to which was first of the first was a photo finish.

Monique moaned and groaned too spontaneously to be merely role playing, as she wrapped the length of the whip around herself, the tip entering her anus, the rough texture rubbing her wet begging gash. She worked the butt end through the middle of her tits, then across her nipples, also using her fingers to twist and pull her nubs. She worked her clit with her fingers, almost screaming at us, "Do you want to treat me like a slave, keep me in the stables with the horses and groom me. Will you ride me, fuck me and then hose me off? Or would you rather chain me in the kitchen, force me to feed you by hand, and then have me drink your piss like it was champagne? Keep me in your dungeon and make me gang bang your friends?"

With each sentence, her motions increased in intensity. She was solo fucking off in her own world, but the shared intimacy was still a very sexy show which made Rachel stop sucking my cock and join me in finger fucking herself. Rachel's hands flew over her own flesh, silently copying Monique's motions. Since Rachel lacked the whip to spread the sensations, I tried to add my efforts where Monique relied on her prop the most, especially Rachel's anus, which I proceeded to spread with two fingers, then gradually massaged open wide enough to fuck with three hard digits, rigid . "Oh, they feel like a cock," Rachel moaned, "only wider. Fuck, that hurts."

I paused, and then began withdrawing the fingers. Rachel grabbed my hand and shoved them back in, deeper and harder. "Don't stop. It hurts so good, damn you." She screamed as loudly as Monique.

I rolled my arm around so my fingers still teased her anus, but my thumb was piercing her labia. She lay back, riding me, watching Monique again licking the handle of the whip. Finally, Monique lashed the whip out towards the window, making it snap loudly against the glass. Each stroke, Rachel jumped on my fist, driving my fingers deeper. On the rebound, the flying leather would snake around Monique's body, leaving superficial welts wherever the corset did not cover her skin. The tops and sides of her breasts grew as red as her lips. Her breathing became ragged, her screaming became a whimper.

A shudder ran through Monique's body and she slumped in a corner. Rachel fell off the bench after bouncing wildly on my hand. I felt the way I imagine a puppeteer must feel if the puppet suddenly takes on a life of its own. Her pussy muscles clamped my wrist like a pit bull on a burglar, shaking my arm as she spasmed, her butt thumping the padded seat, ooze gushing out her opening. The shuddering convulsed through her entire body. This orgasm was the strongest of her day – so far. I hoped I could top it later.

After catching her breath, Monique produced the handcuffs which had been displayed with the outfit. She dangled them from a fingertip, extending them towards us. "Would milady care to restrain me?"

I eased Rachel upwards, leaving my organ erect in the air. "What I would like is for you to go and handcuff her, then strip her out of that corset and try it on. After all, we came here to buy something for you."

Rachel's eyes shone like new pennies. "Is it the dress up, or the bondage play that's got you so excited?"

"Both. It is so not vanilla."

"This really is like a weekend through the looking glass. Or maybe I'm like Dorothy in Oz."

"I guess that makes me the man behind the curtain, giving you the gift of sensuality you already had?"

"You have the courage of the lion, the heart of the woodcutter and the dirty mind of a scarecrow from the Playboy Mansion. At least you haven't got a Munchkin cock."

"I love that word 'munchkin'. Gotta figure they made up for size orally."

Rachel stuck her tongue out at my bad joke, and then laughed deeply, from her belly. She straightened her clothes slightly in case anyone outside noticed her passing to the other side of the booth.

Apparently, someone did notice because as soon as Rachel left my side of the booth, there was a quiet tap on the door. Fearing complaints from management or another customer about over enthusiasm, I reluctantly opened it just slightly. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was the blonde from the red convertible. I sighed in relief. She began giggling, covering her lush lips with her long fingers.

"What's so funny?"

With her right hand she pointed down towards my groin. I had forgotten to put my penis back in my pants. Probably because of fear of reprimand, it was shriveled, but still dangling out my fly. It did look pretty ridiculous.

"May I join you?" she asked once she stopped laughing.

I returned her smile. In reply, I opened the door and stepped aside to allow her to squeeze past into the tiny space. As she did so, she had no choice but to rub her hip against my dangling cock, which quickly sprung back to a respectable semi erect state. I closed the door as the blonde crouched by the bench seat, critically examining the dampness. She sniffed deeply, then stood and turned.

"It smells divine in here. Unlike in bed, I don't even mind if I get the side with the wet spot. Oh, where are my manners, I'm Gwen."

She extended her hand as if to shake. As I stuck my arm forward, however, she firmly grasped my cock and gave it a good handshake style pump, once up, then down. She stood there holding my meat in her relaxed fist. I took the moment to look at her up close. She was like Rachel's opposite mirror image - tall, fair with long blonde hair. Her voluptuous breasts still thrust out the blouse she wore in the car, which was haphazardly buttoned. Though the lifting effect of a bra was apparent, it was sheer enough that her excited cherries threatened to burst right through the fabric of the blouse. Below the waist, she wore a long flowing suede skirt above cowboy boots. Her sunglasses were pushed up into her hair.

"Don't soil your skirt," I advised.

"Oh, you're absolutely right."

Without a hint of shyness, Gwen unbuttoned her skirt and stepped out of it as it fell around her feet, just as if we had known each other intimately for years. She obviously noticed my shock. "After our freeway flirtation I feel that I know you and your girl friend like old friends."

Remembering Rachel's reply to Monique, I said "She's not really my girlfriend. She's just a woman from work that I fucked in the park who thinks she can prove she's kinkier than me."

"I bet no one can lose a contest like that."

I tried not to stare at Gwen's legs. She obviously worked out constantly, because they were a perfect melding of muscle and curves, joining under flat abs to highlight a delicately shaped heart of pubic hair hiding damp gaping pink labia. A blue gem twinkled in her navel.

"What's up, never seen an innie before?" Gwen ran her hands up her body, undoing her buttons. "I hope you don't mind. I'll be much more comfortable with my shirt off."

Once again, it was hard not to stare. Rachel's firm small breasts had been succulent, and Monique's looked tasty too. Gwen however encased her pale pillows of flesh in a marvel of engineering - a feast of purple lace sculpted around and underneath her nipples, complete with discrete supports which truly lifted and separated her cleavage. She needed no padding. Her nipples were completely displayed in all their excited glory. As if reading my mind, Gwen reached up and caressed her breasts, hefting the weight in her palms. Teasing her own nipples with finger tips. Eyes locked on mine, tongue trailing along her lower lips, she silently dared me to watch as she grasped each point between a thumb and forefinger and stretched them away from her body. She sighed deeply, exhaling as she did so, sinking onto the bench where Rachel had sat a few minutes before.

Gwen patted the seat beside her, inviting me to sit. Unlike with Rachel, I found resistance futile with Gwen. Her attention was now focused on the other side of the looking glass, but her right hand continued to massage her own breast. Her left hand quickly crawled around my thigh, so far not grabbing my cock, just kneading my leg. This did allow the transparent hairs on the back of Gwen's hand to gentle tickle the bulge in my pants.

I found it hard to pay attention to Rachel with Gwen stimulating my prick, but once I looked through the looking glass, I was glad I did. Rachel had taken advantage of my distraction to strip off her disheveled work wear and don the corset outfit.

"We better have a safe word," Monique meekly said to Rachel, keeping her eyes cast down towards the floor.

"Yeah, I am new at playing with girls. I have a much better idea how far I can go with a guy. Pick a word."

"How about 'opera'?"

"Oprah, like the book club TV dyke?"

"No. Opera, like fat sopranos in horny helmets."

Rachel laughed so hard she fell to her knees. Gwen and I watched her lick up the inside of Monique's left leg, rolling her tongue around her sub's thigh, and then tentatively taste the juices gushing from her cunt.

"It looks like she likes it." Gwen commented.

"Which one?"

"Both, actually, though I was referring to the one tasting the cunt cream. Is it really her first time?"

"I think so, but she's a fast study."

Gwen took my hand in hers as we watched Rachel handcuff Monique to a ring conveniently positioned in the wall. As the cuffs ratcheted shut, Rachel lifted Monique's chin, bending towards her captive. Her face inches away, Rachel's tongue snaked out, parting Monique's lips. Rachel bent further, engaging Monique in a full lip lock. The passionate kiss continued as Rachel cupped Monique's breasts in her palms, massaging them fiercely, then twisting the nipples sharply. Rachel's hands roamed Monique's body, seemingly exploring each curve of her structure.

"Not bad for a girl who says she's not lesbian," I thought. Hearing my voice, I realized I also said it.

"Definitely not vanilla," Gwen judged.

We watched as Rachel crouched, lifting Monique's chin this time with the butt of the whip. Rachel positioned herself so she could lean forward and offer the tips of her breasts, exposed above the edge of the corset, to Monique's mouth. There was nothing shy about Monique's eager swallowing of Rachel's flesh. She suckled those nipples like a new borne babe lusting to quench its first thirst. However, as Gwen quickly commented, "It looks like at least one of them has done this before."

Monique began to strain her hands as far as the handcuffs allowed, trying to clutch at Rachel's firm young tits. Rachel slapped Monique. "Not until I give you permission."

Monique hung her chin in shame. Rachel lifted her new slave's chin, using the business end of the lash this time, and mollified her with a kiss. "Don't pout. I'm just learning too. But I am afraid I do have to punish you."

Stepping back as far as the tiny room allowed, Rachel flicked the tip of the whip across Monique's chest. The cramped space meant it lacked the force to cut flesh, but redness appeared, running across the top of Monique's swollen tit like an arrow pointing to the engorged nipple. Monique whimpered, apparently in deeper than she had planned, but she never said "opera".

Next to me, Gwen's upper body was shaking with excitement. She was twisting her hips against the bench, soaking her thighs with Rachel's left over wetness, and no doubt leaving her own contribution to the dampness. In the tight space, this rubbed our flesh together. With one hand, she absentmindedly stroked her own nipple. Her other fist was pumping my cock.

"Relax and submit, girl," Rachel said sternly, "the more you whimper the harder this will be."

She flicked the whip again. This time, it rose from near the floor to strike the underside of Monique's breast, licking at the nipple.

"Licking like fire," Gwen observed. She leaned over and licked my cock, her tongue imitating the intensity of the whip. The jolt of electricity was truly like a match burning. After the single tease, Gwen sat back upright and turned her attention back to the show on the other side of the glass.