Betrayed Ch. 05

Chapter Five: All You Can Eat

We slept until eleven Sunday Morning, made leisurely love, then showered. It was decided this would be a casual day for Dianna and Lisa; jeans, T-shirts, and athletic shoes. With Dianna's help, I still looked good enough to eat – at least, she thought so. Dianna looked…damn, no woman had a right to look so sexy in such a sexless outfit. She filled everything out to perfection, tying off the T-shirt below her boobs to show off her twenty-two-inch waistline and navel ring. Turnabout is fair play. I wore her suede high heels the night before. Now, she fit perfectly into a pair of myReeboks. Is it scary we wear the same sizes, orkismet?

She attacked my wig with a styling brush and comb, moving errant locks this way and that, restoring the fabulous 'do to respectability.

"There!" Dianna pronounced triumphantly, "maybe not as good as Angelo would do, but it will do for today."

"Angelo?" I questioned.

"He does all our wigs, Sweetheart," she informed me. "He's been around for ages. He used to be the stylist atBroadway Wigs. Now he has his own shop. We wouldn't think of using anyone else. When this needs to be cleaned and re-styled, I'll take you to him and introduce you."

We knew neither of us could bear to part with the beautiful hairpiece, so I made plans to send money with Dianna to reimburse Mimi. My lover assured me Angelo would be able to obtain the replacement before the following weekend.

Sunday was another shopping day. First, we went back to the same lingerie store in Water Tower Place. This time, we purchased lingerie forme. A stop at theMAC store netted makeup 'essentials' – about two shopping bags' worth. Dianna promised she would have me a genuine makeup artist by the time of the fashion show. Who better to teach me than a showgirl who had appeared on stages all over the Midwest since age sixteen?

Our next stop was the furniture store from which I had furnished my condo. I purchased a second, matching dresser for Dianna's things in accordance with our avowal that my home was now her home as well. The same bedroom collection offered a jewelry armoire and vanity table. We snapped up both, then paid a premium to have the three pieces delivered that same day.

We motored on to a theatrical makeup and supply store on the Northwest Side to acquire some special items Dianna professed I would need the following day. It was a short trip from there to Paul's studio, where I was measured for additional corsetry I would need for my ongoing figure training. Upon completion of my fitting, we hurried home to await the delivery truck, ordering a stuffed pizza fromEdwardo's en route. Both arrived shortly after we did. After having the delivery men array the new furniture to our liking, I tipped them and sent them on their way. They looked crestfallen to have to leave, after having feasted their eyes on the stunning brunette and blonde 'roommates' for a half-hour.

We had a heart-to-heart discussion over pizza, concerning my future. Dianna admitted the figure training alone, in conjunction with external prosthetics, plus her makeup and deportment lessons, would probably be enough to get me by for the fashion show. The word 'probably' had hung heavily in the air between us. I knew without pressing she wanted more – alot more. She had enumerated the options available, both surgical and otherwise.

Oh, how she wanted me to get a boob job! She didn't say so in so many words, but I could tell.

"Do you remember Sugar?" she murmured.

I nodded slowly. How could I possibly forget? Sugar also frequentedRingers. She and Dianna bore more than a passing resemblance. In fact, some in the past have mistaken one for the other – until they looked below the neckline. Dianna had full, firm D-cup breasts. She hadn't wanted to go bigger than that, avowing she liked the "All-American Girl" look. I had stifled a laugh when she told me that, thinking how much our perceptions of "All-American" were changing. Sugar, on the other hand, possessed the kind of fantasy chest that made men's eyes bulge out of their sockets and pre-cum surge like a river.

Dianna's eyes glazed over and her breathing became rapid and shallow as she described Sugar's choice of size, the procedure itself, and helping her friend through her post-op recovery period. My lover's eyes regained their focus, and she hurriedly added she just thought I should know what to expect, should I ever decide to go that route. I got the distinct impression there was – or at least, had been – more going on between the two than just 'friendship'.

Dianna tread delicately on the subject of hormones. The benefits were softening of skin and muscle tone, thickening and improved luster of the hair, development of so-called 'secondary sex characteristics' – boobs, hips and buns – not to mention increased sensitivity, particularly in the nipples. There were consequences, too. Some girls experienced hot flashes and pronounced mood swings. Others claimed the hormones made them sleepy. There were some medical risks as well, although there didn't seem to be a high incidence of them in girls our age. Of course, there was also the potential for loss of male sexual function….

My companion had been massaging my crotch as she related all of this. She had spoken those last words softly, almost reverently, as she gazed in the direction of her hand. She lifted her head; her eyes met mine. She leaned into me and kissed me tenderly. No other words were spoken on the subject, but she left no doubt where her feelings lay.

There was probably something fundamentallyirrational about having a rational discussion with my paramour about methods to transform me permanently into a more feminine image. If there was, I didn't see it. At that point, it was just a discussion; nothing more. Dianna wasn't insisting on anything; she was merely offering options. To be honest, my mind was elsewhere at the moment.

Our distraction made us careless. Dianna was taking a bite of pizza and watching me, instead of what she was doing. A big piece of sausage tumbled out of the inside and plopped on her bare, taut belly, filling her navel like a jewel. She laughed and reached to retrieve it, but I was quicker. My face was there in a flash. I scooped up the errant bit of meat in my mouth, chewed, swallowed, then gently lapped up the grease in her bellybutton with my tongue. In so doing, I flicked her belly ring a couple of times. I felt her body tremble, just a little, when I did that. I glanced upward and met her eyes. We just stared for a moment, silently.

I took the pizza from her hand and gently dragged the tip across her belly, smearing tomato and meat juice in a broad swath across her flesh. I followed with light, delicate laves of my tongue, cleansing her skin where I had soiled it. She trembled again. Goosebumps covered her soft flesh. I made my way higher, peeling her T-shirt over her head with my free hand. I dripped juice on one breast, then the other, licking and sucking each in turn. She was trembling openly, continuously now, mewing quietly and holding my head with both hands. I had never before seen her nipples so erect, straining. Nor had they ever tasted so good!

I had to lay the pizza down. I needed both hands to pull her from the sofa, lay her on the floor, then peel off her shoes, socks, jeans, and panties. This time, I left a trail of sausage, pepperoni, onion, green pepper, mozzarella, and elephant garlic across both thighs. Then, I feasted my way upwards, alternating from one side to the other, nipping tenderly at her quivering flesh as I snapped up each delicacy in turn. Dianna's mews turned to soft moans as I approached the "V" where her thighs met.

Her magnificent clit stood tall and turgid before me, vibrating with need. I slathered it generously with rich, tomato-y goop, then set upon this next hunk of 'sausage' with my mouth as though possessed. Every luscious lick, nibble, and slurp was a four-star taste sensation, mixed with her own flowing 'juice'. Dianna was thrashing back and forth wildly, her moans replaced by shrieks. I had to hold her wrists firmly to prevent her bucking me off before I was good and ready to release her. From what I could tell, release was close at hand.

I didn't anticipate the strength the adrenaline rush would give her. She broke free of my grasp, twisted her body to one side and hurled me towards the couch at the same time. I landed on my knees, slumped over the cushions. Dianna was on me in a flash, straddling my thighs and pinning my body with her own.

"What an exciting dining sensation you have come up with, Sweetheart," she purred in my ear. "Let's see if it is as goodthe other way."

She held me down with one hand between my shoulder blades. I heard the rustling of cardboard behind me. The first tentative drippings down my spine tickled. They were followed by heavierplops as something more substantial landed on my skin. The soft, feathery touch of her lips and the tip of her talented tongue were sweet torture. She began at the nape of my neck and worked her way downward, alternately licking, nipping, and sucking as I had done. Moments passed like hours, caught up in the agony of sensation and anticipation.

She shifted her knees to the inside of my thighs, spreading them apart. A thick wedge of pizza was dragged between my spread cheeks, sloughing off a thick layer of juice, sauce, and ingredients. She took her time with teeth and tongue, slurping up this concoction from her 'bowl'. Her tongue probed my love blossom, opening it up, making it slick with tomato and meat juice.

"I amso glad you are not a Vegan," Dianna cooed behind me. "I like my dinners…meaty!"

She timed her lunge with her words. Her slick, greasy fuckpole mated with my equally-slick, greasy love nest in one quick thrust. I grunted aloud – from surprise, not pain. After the previous two days, I was well beyond hurting from her sexual advances. At the same time, her greasy hand softly stroked my own rigid love rod.

I raised upright on my knees. Dianna held me close, thrusting in and out firmly. She continued to stroke my 'clit' with one hand while pinching my nipples with her other. I felt my heart hammering in my chest. My eyes focused, unseeing, on some point high on the opposite wall. My entire being was focused on the points of her triple assault.

"Baby," she murmured, "I can't begin to tell you how much I have enjoyed dinner. Letme take care of dessert."

Was the torrent of molten lava from her volcano, or my own? I couldn't tell. Every nerve synapse in my body seemed to fire at once. I jerked repeatedly, spasmodically, and would have fallen over if she were not holding me. Then again, Dianna didn't feel all that steady, either. She held on tight and we somehow managed to remain upright. The slick heat from within me confirmedboth volcanoes had erupted at once.

Her hand covered my mouth. I opened, and was treated to the most incredible, aromatic elixir of tomato-basil-oregano-flavored cum. I gulped it down greedily, then lapped the remnants from her palm. I felt her hot breath in my ear as she gently nipped my earlobe.

"Emeril Lagasse hasnothing on you, My Love," she purred. "So, what can you do with Barbeque?"