Angel, Stripped Ch. 03

"Probably," Angel muttered, clearly bemused, "but I was a stripper not a whore."

"Sure, sure," Erika answered. I could tell by the tone of Erika's voice that she wasn't convinced.

"I'm not," Angel pouted, trying to have the last word in the discussion.

Erika picked up a yellowtail, smiled and said, "Be still and be quiet, Angel. You'll destroy the serenity of the moment."

Angel and I both snorted at the incongruity of Erika's last statement.

....And I was confused. "So I understand that there is a serious food fetish at play here but why are we eating sushi off Angel's naked body? And I guess I could understand why a sushi chef would dream of such things, but why would he have talked about doing this with you guys?"

"Because we're hot and he wants to do us," Erika deadpanned, breaking the two ladies back into roiling fits of laughter.

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head in disbelief.

"Ok, ok," Erika said. "A couple weeks ago we were sitting at the sushi bar watching Atsuo-san make our rolls. Like usual we started talking about his time in Japan before coming to the U.S. This time he brought up how he missed the tradition of Nyotaimori."

"Nyotaimori?" I asked.

"Yeah, the art of body sushi." Erika answered. "The ultimate decadent experience for wealthy Japanese men is to go to sushi restaurants and participate in Nyotaimori. They sit around a long table and wait for the beautiful woman who would be their serving platter. She would lay back on the table completely nude. Her yummy bits would be shaved hairless and they would be covered with flowers. The woman would also be cooled down with rose water so that the temperature of the sushi could be preserved for a longer time."

Gulping down a roll laden with crunch I asked, "And then they would eat?"

"Yes sometimes it would take several hours. During the entire time the woman would have to keep perfectly still.

"Would the men have sex with the woman later, after they were done eating?"

"Nope, and that's the strange thing. The whole experience is supposed to be about beauty and tranquility rather than sex; I think it's a load of horse shit. There's no way a woman lyin' naked under the scrutinizin' gaze of a bunch of horny ol' men isn't sexual. I guess the whole experience is one big ol' tease."

"Is that the reason for the strategically placed flowers?"

"Exactly."

"And is the white lily over Angel's pussy supposed to symbolize purity?"

Erika chuckled, "Purity for Angel's a stretch isn't it?"

"Yup, I don't think there is anything pure about her."

"Maybe she's a pure slut?"

"Maybe."

"You know I can hear you guys," Angel interjected.

Erika and I couldn't help but snicker.

This was an absurd situation. I would have never imagined that one day I would eat sushi off of a naked woman's body. The more amusing thing, however, was that she had to be perfectly still as we continued our conversation.

"Are the diners allowed to touch?"

Erika grinned. "Japanese etiquette wouldn't allow for that."

"But we aren't Japanese," I retorted.

"I know," Erika smirked.

I had eaten several pieces of sushi while Erika had been talking; my hunger for food was satiated. I could, however, feel my hunger being transformed into lust. I lifted the white lily off of Angel's honey pot and spread her legs.

Staring at Angel's delectable cunt I said, "I think we should maintain one Japanese tradition, though."

"Oh? That is?" Erika asked munching contentedly on a nigiri plucked from Angel's breast.

"I think that Angel should stay completely still."

"Agreed," Erika laughed. "Otherwise she might disrupt the tranquility of our experiences."

"You fucking teases!" Angel blurted.

"Ya know ya like it," Erika scoffed. "Now be quiet."

Angel's pussy was now open to my touch. Rather then use my fingertips, I wet my chopsticks between my lips. I then placed both of the sticks against the soft, fleshy skin that separated her cunt and asshole.

"Angel, do you know why they call this part of your body the taint?" I asked.

"No," Angel responded.

"Because it ain't your ass and it ain't your pussy," I answered. Erika chortled at my joke quietly. Slowly then, I slid each of the sticks in opposite directions until they were lying against Angel's cunny and sphincter. "But you don't have to worry about that anymore. Now the sticks are pressed up against both of your entrances. They are ready to slide in."

"They feel good," Angel murmured.

"Would you like them inside of you?"

"Yes."

"Both of them?"

"Fuck yes." I started with Angel's cunt. I ran the chopstick along the length of her quim, soaking the lacquer in girl-juice. Angel was wet and dripping; she was ready.

I slid the chopstick inside of her damp pussy hole, soliciting a gasp from between her lips. I was genuinely surprised. I knew that Angel was turned on, but I wasn't expecting this sort of response. Simply put, a chopstick is not very large. There is no girth to clamp onto. But that didn't matter. Angel was a woman in heat. She needed something – anything – in her cunt.

I fucked Angel with the first chopstick, watching her writhe. I could tell that the movements were frustrating to her. The chopstick was better then nothing, but it was also contributing to her need. Her desire was spiraling upward as the lacquered surface slid in and out of her pink cunt.

Erika, who was still eating sushi off of Angel's tits, hollered, "Give her the other one too. She likes it up the butt. Shove that chopstick up her asshole!"

I grinned and pulled on Angel's body to line her butt against the edge of the table.

Angel squealed twice. The first was surprise; the second was shock. With a slight push the chopstick slid past her starfish and into her ass.

Slowly at first I began to work the chopstick into Angel's butt. The ring of her ass clutched the lacquered stick, but with some pressure she was able to take it in. Within a couple of minutes I had the chopstick several inches deep.

Now I could have some fun. I moved each stick, one at a time, in and out of Angel's sex holes. They were like twin pistons in my hands. I fell into a rhythm. Each stick pumped Angel's most private zones.

Then I heard a loud smack and Angel shriek. Erika yelled, "Don't move," before swatting at Angel's breast again. "I reckon ya need to stay perfectly still."

I could see Angel's muscles tighten. Her breath became raspy. Erika was now playing with Angel's breasts, flicking the nipple rings with her fingers; the rose petal having already been pushed aside. I could see the strain in Angel's neck.

An orgasm was approaching that she was trying to fight off. Who would have thought that chopsticks would have been enough?! If she came, the release would be too great. Angel could not remain still. She would not be able to hold back. Spasms would tear through her body ripping away all control.

Erika leaned down and licked Angel's nipple. I heard the blonde whisper, her voice all Southern honeysuckle, "Don't move... don't move... don't move.... Hold back baby. You can fight through it. Don't move...."

And Angel tried, boy did she try. I could see her knuckles clench and her toes curl as she fought back against the demon ravaging her insides. Torture was lined on her face. Her breath was a ragged gasp. I have to commend her. Despite her struggle, regardless of the war being fought under her skin and through her muscles, Angel's body remained flat and still....

At least until Erika bit down Angel's nipple. The nubbin capping her fleshy tit was sharply erect. The skin was tout and crinkled and at complete attention. Erika had been idly toying with the silver ring dangling from the tip. With a devilish gleam in her eye, Erika clamped her teeth at the nipple's base. That simple action was enough to send Angel careening over the edge.

A primal force seized Angel, shook her, and would not let go. She brayed and howled, screaming at the heavens, "OH FUUUUUUCCCKKKKKK!!! OH GAWD FUCK!!!! OHHHHHHHHHH...." Her hips bucked up and down spasmodically, ripping the chopsticks from my fists. Erika looked surprised too, but she remained firmly clamped to Angel's tit.

I couldn't fault Angel. She held on as long as she could. We had teased and tortured her far beyond what most people would be able to take. After all, she had been in a heightened sexual state for several hours. Erika's restrictions had only increased Angel's desire and desperation. Until now, no release had been offered. Two chopsticks and a single bite (ferocious as it may have been) were enough to release the floodgates and send her spilling on through.

Angel gasped and heaved, shaking uncontrollably. Her mouth fluttered open and closed several times, but no discernable words tumbled out. There was only a guttural rasp as she fought to seize control over her breath.

Erika and I stood back and watched Angel with awe. Neither of us had been expecting her explosion. The power and force of Angel's orgasm was breathtaking. She was a violent force of nature: an earthquake, a hurricane, a tsunami. What could ever top that?

I pulled the chopsticks from Angel's pussy and ass and placed them on the table. A lone piece of sushi remained, left over from dinner. During Angel's orgasm it had slid off her stomach onto the black tarp covering the table.

Erika picked up the chopsticks and along with them the stray piece of sushi. She held the roll up to her nose and giggled, "This smells funky, perhaps a little fishier than it should." She then waved it under my nose and asked, "What do ya think?"

I inhaled deeply. The dueling aromas of Angel's ass and cunt made for a heady bouquet.

I raised my hands in a halting sign and shook my head. "Not for me," I laughed.

What happened next was simply shocking. I knew Angel was a slut (and I adored her for it), but I had not expected this level of depravity. I had thought there were limits. In retrospect, I am not so sure.

Angel was now lying on her side, curled up on the table. Erika, still holding the sushi roll between the chopsticks, stood by her head.

Lightly, gently, lovingly Erika reached down stroked Angel's hair. Something tender passed between the two ladies as one comforted the other. Then the moment passed into memory as Erika began the final humiliation.

"Angel honey," Erika whispered softly, "I want you to do something for me. I want you to eat this last piece of sushi."

Speaking in a sleepy, little girl voice Angel demurred, "No, I don't want it.'

"Why not? It's teensy-weensy." Erika asked patiently as if she was talking to a reticent child.

"I'm not hungry."

Still blindfolded Angel didn't know which chopsticks were being used or where they had been. In all reality such thought was beyond her. In her present state Angel was barely cognizant of her surroundings.

So it was very cruel for Erika to push the issue.

"Please, do it for me Angel honey," Erika pleaded. "It's the last piece and I don't wanna to waste it. C'mon I figure ya'll need some nourishment after what you just did."

Clearly Angel didn't have the energy to argue. She just wanted to resolve the issue. "Fine," she said opening her mouth wide.

Erika topped the roll with a piece of ginger and dropped it into Angel's expectant mouth.

Angel closed her mouth and chewed. For a moment she seemed to enjoy the food. Then she heard Erika giggle. That brief burst of laughter helped Angel put the necessary events together. Unfortunately for her, by the time she had everything figured out she had already swallowed the sushi.

"Is that...." Angel's voice trailed off. I could hear the disbelief and shock, raw and rumbling.

Erika laughed. She didn't need to say more.

"Oh fuck...." Angel groaned as she broke into a fit of laughter. "Bitch... I can't believe you...."

"I know, I know," Erika said, "but ya owed me. Ya gotta admit that."

"True."

"And now we're even."

Angel grimaced and then laughed, "Fair enough, but now I am going to take off this damn blindfold so you won't catch me in your steaming lies again."

"Sure."

Angel took off the blindfold and squinted in the light. She looked at Erika and I and broke into a fresh fit of giggles. "That was one bitchin' orgasm, you know? I wasn't expecting anything like that."

"Care fer another one?" Erika asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ya haven't been fucked yet," Erika replied. "Don't ya want some dick? I think our gentleman caller is ready for another round."

It was a true statement. I looked down at my shaft and I could see that I was once again fully erect. My cock was thick and throbbing ready to be ensconced in a warm, wet pussy.

"Tell me you want my stripper pussy," Angel purred, as she rolled over and spread her legs.

I wrapped my hand around my shaft and approached the table.

"I do. I need it."

"Then fuck me."

"I'll go nice and slow Angel, until you get warmed up," I said.

"Don't you dare, bitch," Angel growled. A grin was plastered across her face. I looked deep into her eyes, they twinkled back at me.

Her legs were akimbo; her hands were pulling her pussy lips wide. She licked her lips and growled, "I'm ready. Fuck me hard. I want to feel that cock of yours. That chopstick was not enough. It was a tease. I need some real meat. I need a bone. Fuck me!"

I rested the tip of my cock against Angel's engorged pussy lips. I am not sure that I had ever seen a wetter cunt; hours of teasing and torture will have that effect. I slid my hips slightly forward running my mushroom head against her distended clit. Angel could only gasp and murmur.

Angel and I were ready, the tease was behind us. We wanted to fuck. I shoved my cock inside of Angel's slick cunt. She took over half my length on the first thrust.

All air whooshed out of my lungs. I closed my eyes and let my present state float away. Bright colored stars flashed in front of my eyes. I became immersed in a terrible, terrific heat. I sunk into something mushy, luxuriating, and utterly relaxing. I became sensation pure and true....

.... And then bitter cold.

"FUCK!" I yelled, startled out of my reverie.

I looked down at the juncture of my cock and Angel's cunt. A scoop of chocolate ice cream had been plopped onto the place our crotches joined.

The substance was melty (it must have been sitting out for awhile, I wasn't sure when it had been brought into the room), and beginning to run down our legs. Erika stood just to my right brandishing a used scooper. A grin was written large across her face. Erika must have noticed my hesitation, because she cackled, "What are ya waiting for? Fuck her! I reckon that's a proper dessert for this evening's events. Give her the banana split she's a looking for."

I looked at Erika and nodded. I leaned down and placed my hands flat on the table. I slammed my hips forward bending into Angel. She groaned deeply as my chocolate-covered cock filled her cunt. The walls of her pussy spread open to receive me. Our hips crushed together sending ice cream squirting out to the left and right sides. Cold, sticky cream coated our loins and dripped down our thighs.

Angel raised her head so that she could watch me fuck her. "Seeing it go in and out of me," she panted, "ohhhhhhhhh it looks so good. Yes it does, yes it does, ooohhhh yes.... You are so hard. Fuck that pussy... bitch, fuck it hard... fuck that pussy."

I heard a "sploop" noise and felt a thick, sticky fluid hit my backside. I craned my neck to see what was happening.

Erika was standing behind me squeezing a bottle of chocolate syrup. A steady brown stream shot from the bottle and squirted all over my back side. Erika giggled as she danced from one position to another. Angel was also a target. I watched as Erika hit her roommate square on the tits. Her aim was dead-on. From there she was no holds barred. Erika was a madwoman. Cackling triumphantly, she sprayed the bottle wildly. The blonde coated every inch of our uncovered flesh. In just a few seconds, both of Angel and I were covered from head to toe in chocolate syrup.

We didn't care. A sticky, syrupy mess wasn't going to stop our fucking. Rather, the ice cream and the fudge churned with our sex juices further fueling our lust. We were dirty, nasty, filthy beasts rutting and humping. We were pounding and driving, banging and slamming our way to a fucking orgasm.

"Ya guys are so damn hot," I heard Erika say. "Ya'll are like pigs in slop that can't get enough of each other. I've never seen anythin' dirtier. I must... I have to... Do you mind?"

My mind was foggy with sex. I barely registered Erika's voice; I certainly didn't respond. Angel only groaned as I continued to pump in and out of her pussy. Her hands were clutching my ass cheeks pulling me deeper. Skin stuck to skin fused together by sweat and chocolate syrup.

I looked down to see Erika licking at my crotch. She had ripped off her suit coat and blouse and now was down to a lacy red bra.

Smears of chocolate syrup coated her face and shoulders. Her glasses were crooked on her nose (I think she banged them off kilter against my thigh). She was a sultry sex goddess, a Southern belle turned wicked and wanton.

"How's that taste, Erika?" I grunted.

"Ohhhh it's mighty fine. I need more. Gimme more...."

Erika clamped her hands to my thighs and craned her neck for a second lick. Her tongue swirled a vicious circle as she moved one hand to cradle my sack. Rubbing gently she took one ball completely into her mouth. Then the blonde began to suck....

Divine.

Holy.

Angel.

For the second time that night my body bucked and shook; orgasm overtook me. I rammed my hips into Angel's trembling body for a final time. Throwing my head back I howled into oblivion. A long, furious bray passed my lips as several shots of white-hot jizz exploded from my dick. One spurt after another of scalding cum deeply penetrated the liquid furnace of Angel's cunt.

Sharp nails dug into my ass. Angel, tumbling through an orgasm of her own, clung tightly to me. We had never been closer; we were two halves of a whole. Self was gone, forgotten. Mutual desire washed over our bodies, leaving Angel and I with nothing but rumbling tremors of ecstasy.

Such a complete moment can never be permanent. The unity found in sex is, by its nature, a transient thing. Inevitably echoes are all that remain. They become mere memories of what passed from one being to another and back again. Those echoes lead us to repeat the process: to couple again, to seek that which we can never truly hold.

And so it would be. For now Angel and I would grunt, moan, and claw our way back to normality. We would hold each other and store blankly at Erika rising up from between our legs. Eventually we would fumble our way to the shower and wash the grime of our tawdry affair from our bodies. Erika would wait in the bathroom, leaning against the door jam, and watch us shower. I would then dress, give both ladies a peck on the cheek, and drive home. I would crawl into bed and dream.

I would dream of doing it all over again.

I would dream of next Sunday.