Tangled Passions Pt. 03 Ch. 35-37

Jenn detected some similar activity at the other end of the expansive table, but before she could raise her eyes, her attention was secured once again by her escort. A low, angled stool-like affair on casters, the size of a small hassock, had been pulled from under the table and positioned behind her. Without a word, the handler took her arm and lowered Jenn to her knees, guiding her onto the padded surface, from which jutted a phallus. Its angled top was much like an avant garde typist's seat, except that the upholstery was apparently fluid filled. The modest phallus was inserted smoothly into her vagina as she lowered herself. In front of, sort of below the protruding dildo at the front of the seat was something that resembled nothing more than a small rubber squid – a tangle of short flexible fingers – with a leash. As Jenn was threaded onto the shaft, her clitoris came to rest against the tentacled thing, and its springy leash was clipped to her waist belt. As she settled her weight fully onto the device, having at last fully accommodated the artificial erection, she received an eye-opening surprise. Her weight against the cushion top caused the phallus within her and the fingers at her clit to become engorged and firm. With a small, silent gasp she unweighted ever so slightly by rocking forward; simultaneously the artificial erection softened, contracted; the clit-squid wilted. When the handler firmly pulled her hips back into the accepting cushion, the mock cock in her cunt became rock hard and the tentacles insistent against her clitoris once more. Even imperceptible movements of her hips caused the appliances to throb within her, and she could already feel the sensations fanning her volatile libido.

The anonymous handler went about his business with her, unmindful of her discomfiture. He attached her waist strap snugly to the back edge of the seat and secured her ankles to the back corners of its base before unfastening her hands. The instructions were simple and concise. She was to orally service the guests, male and female alike, starting with the nearest and not moving on until given leave by whomever she was attending. Jenn nodded her understanding at the unspoken question of confirmation in his eyes, then, without further ado, he steered her under the table toward the knees of the first dinner guest. Judging from the odd glimpses of fuss to the side, Jenn assumed that the skinny kid had been similarly installed beneath the other side of the table. At a final prod in the back, she spread the waiting knees and pulled herself into the vee they made. The tablecloth dropped behind her, shrouding her in an anonymous world of cocks and cunts – felatio and cunnilingus.

As she took her first assignment into her mouth – a large flaccid penis, emerging from its open fly front to lay limp over the silk trousers like a lifeless eel, she wondered again, how she had actually come to this. It was actually rather funny, Jenn observed, how she could still be astounded by things. She repeatedly managed to experience genuine astonishment at some of the experiences, some of the expectations, what she saw, what she endured. Perhaps she was not quite as jaded as she sometimes feared. The details of her position circulated briefly through her thoughts. Personal freedoms and liberties, whose guarantees had heretofore been sacrosanct, were now subject to the whims and desires of others. Decisions on when to eat and sleep, copulate and masturbate, even urinate and defecate seemed, eventually, to fall outside of ones diminishing sphere of control; yet there was a kind of comfort in being able to expect the unexpected and tolerate the intolerable. She still didn't know where she was, nor what she was about.

So she was slightly vexed as she leaned into the exposed groin, supporting herself on his hips, but as she rocked forward onto it, then back onto the apparatus beneath her, an answer came to her – in the delicious tinglings running through her cunt – the first indications of an impending orgasm. She laved the limp meat with increased effort, and felt it begin to stiffen against her tongue. Her eagerly bobbing head translated to a rocking motion of her buttocks, causing the phallus to swell and deflate inside her, the rubber fingers alternately stiffening and relaxing against her sex. She had barely got her subject hard when she felt the building crisis of her own approaching climax. "Think only of what is in your mouth, Jenn. No other sensations matter right now." She repeated her training like a mantra in her head, and holding her orgasm at bay, concentrated on the still growing erection. Without ejaculating, however, the man's hands appeared alongside her head and gently pushed her away, towards the next guest. Jenn's internal tumult calmed slightly as she carefully propelled herself to the next knees, into the next crotch.

The woman wore nothing beneath her flapped open gown. Jenn pulled herself forward, engaging the plump, sparsely forested vulva with her face, and, almost immediately, it pulsed against her lips and tongue. Jenn's simmering arousal boiled again so suddenly she could hardly think straight. Only through a tremendous effort of will – by repeating her mantra over and over in her head – was she able to focus her attention on her subject's genitals. She licked and sucked like one possessed, spreading the inflamed lips with her fingers in order to insert her tongue as deeply as possible. Without a cock to bob her head upon, she was able to still her hips somewhat. Her own stimulation muted slightly as she kept her face planted firmly between quivering legs, her tongue in constant touch with the slick slit. Jenn worked hard and tirelessly until the woman finally began thrusting herself into Jenn's face, reaching her hands over Jenn's ears to pull her hard into the electric flesh. As she approached climax the guest's manifest excitement re-ignited Jenn's arousal. Unable to control her own conflagrant desire while dealing with the erupting violence at her mouth, Jenn could hang on no longer. Gripping the thrashing thighs to keep her purchase at the engorged clitoris, Jenn involuntarily started pushing and bouncing, vibrating on the pulsating appliances as multi-hued sheets of ecstasy swept through her body and over her head. Their energy of release combined geometrically in a shared orgasm – mutually overwhelming guest and slave, one dressed and seated at a lavish dinner setting, the other on her knees beneath the table.

Jenn slowly disengaged, her head lolling against the sweaty thighs, under tenderly caressing fingers ruffling through her hair. They took barely enough time to catch their breaths while the soft hands cupped her face and blindly traced fingers across her lips. Jenn sucked on the thumbs as they pried her lips apart to dip into her mouth for a second. Then she was gently, almost lovingly pushed away, to paddle herself, dragging her contraption, over to the next member of the party.

Despite her attempts at control, despite her training and mantra, that turned out to be only the first of more orgasms than Jenn could count. In fact, the next was only a few seats along. Jenn was simply amazed at the size of that particular diner. While felating him, his cock just continued to grow larger and larger. Incredibly long and thick, it knocked repeatedly at the back of her throat, bruising her tonsils, making her gag, still he didn't come – just got a little longer, a little thicker. Jenn's lips were stretched tight around its increasing girth, as it butted her pharynx, trying to worm into her gullet. In her struggle to breathe and survive the gigantic invader, in her frenzied mouthing of the massive cock, she began bouncing on her perch, at first incidentally, then frenetically. Suddenly she lost her grip; the uncontrolled arousal that had been churned to spill-point, broke through once again, and, even as she choked on the battering ram lodged in her throat, she fell victim to an infuriatingly long, drawn out multiple-orgasm. Her mind blurred with the onset of climax after climax against the hydraulics of the stool.

Only as the last wave retreated, still gasping and sputtering around the monstrous shaft, could she focus once again on her mantra "Feel only what's in your mouth. Think of nothing but the cock." By that time, it only took a couple deliberate strokes of her tongue, sucking caresses of the insides of her cheeks before the tool began palpitating. Even after the point of no return had been obviously reached, the inexorable build up seemed to go on and on, become more and more intense. Jenn couldn't wait. White heat flashed once again through her soul as she pogoed urgently on the steely rod of flesh, forcing it deeper into her bruised throat – deeper than anything had ever been. The searing stars of her own climax removed the rest of the universe, and her own orgasmic explosion finally triggered a violent climax from the shuddering cock, its owner thrusting, his hips shaking, forcing himself deeper into her than possible. She sucked and swallowed repeatedly his jetted tribute, gagging and coughing while her loins grasped spasmodically at the latex sheathed tool that impaled her. She was, in some calmer corner of her mind, pleased that she hadn't thrown up – and that she had swallowed it all without losing a drop.

Jenn proceeded around the underside of the table, paddling her cart like a legless beggar, swimming in a miasma of orgasmic energy. She no longer had the energy or will to control her own arousal. After an especially intense orgasm, hands gripping her hair tightly, she was reprimanded for making noise. The voice from on high reminded her that she should be neither seen nor heard, merely felt; but even in reprimand there was a tone of understanding, appreciation, maybe even admiration. Some of the women passively received her attentions while others actively forced her face hard against their sexes. Some of the men pushed her away before reaching climax, one had, while ejaculating copiously, pulled out of her mouth to come all over her face. Most, however, reached orgasm in her mouth, pumping voluminous streams of semen down her throat. Her fog of pricks and quims, come and love juice, quaking squeezing thighs and urgently pulling hands, was punctuated by her own climaxes sending shuddering spasms bottom to top along her spine. Jenn lost all track of time and numbers. She felt as if she had been between the legs of strangers all of her life. She experienced – giving and having – more orgasms than humanly possible, and still she went on.

An awareness of another being sharing her domain beneath the table trickled into her perception. She felt her hips and shoulders touch a naked, kneeling body; her castered perch bumped something, as she stroked her tongue feverishly up and down the crack at her face. The woman's hips were beginning to buck, her lubrication soaking her dress and the seat and the tops of her hose. The phantom beside Jenn was working on a male guest, she realized, only moments before Her Ladyship stiffened and drew Jenn’s face hard against the dripping sex, mashing her nose into the matted thatch and crushing her lips against the engorged labia. The woman's climax nudged Jenn over into another of her own, albeit a relatively small one – being the what? – hundredth of the evening? Jenn kept caressing the slick, puffy lips with her tongue until the woman, with a final shudder, pushed her aside and said in a breathless voice, "No more, you demon. Please!" Then she added with a hint of amusement, while giving Jenn a nudge toward the next patron, "Go help your husband."

And it was, indeed, Matt bobbing on the cock next to her. The charge of recognition instantaneously revitalized Jenn; although, enclosed in his own world of joys or demons or joyous demons, Matt remained unaware of his new companion's identity. Such a wave of joy flooded over Jenn as she dragged her seat by her impaled vagina, right up against Matt's matching perch. Pausing a moment, she took him all in, noting details in the dimness of the enclosure. He, too, was threaded upon his stool; the dynamic phallus embedded in his rear. Instead of fingers at his scrotum, he wore a small inflatable ring at the base of his cock.

Jenn leaned forward, her hands on his shoulder, and kissed his cheek while he worked. He hesitated an instant, before regaining his rhythm; then he contrived to glance sideways. Shock registered in his eyes, yet he managed to smile around the thick cock in his mouth. Pulling herself with his arm, Jenn bent down and tenderly sucked at his breast – flicking the nipple-clamps with her tongue – as he continued his conscientious felatio. Although his slick and matted pubic beard indicated that he had already come at least once, he was again fully aroused and erect. At Jenn's oral attentions, his hard member began to twitch, then bounce. Its swollen, purple glans glistened with fresh presemenal fluid. Moving her lips off his chest, she joined him at the focus of his current devotion. She spread her kisses between his lips and the rampant erection when his rhythm rocked him back off it. Suddenly alive, aware and ignited, Matt traded places, leaving Jenn to gobble the subject's tool while he frantically kissed and tongued her breasts. Slowly, as if checking their limits, determining what was allowed, Matt let his hands travel over Jenn to mould to her mammaries – squeezing and fondling. Keeping the anonymous cock well ensconced in her warm mouth, Jenn snaked a hand through the maze of limbs, to locate Matt's nipple-clamps, once more. Soon they were caressing – pinching and poking, fondling and fingering each other at will, only ensuring that at least one of them was, at all times, worshipping the guest's tool.

For a while they took turns on it, kissing and licking, then sharing. Sounds filtering down from above the table, outside the shroud, indicated their cooperation was appreciated. Momentarily disregarding the earlier warning, Jenn, then Matt, cooed and whispered and sighed their pleasure at being together again. The warmth of love that Jenn felt for Matt was heightened by the unbelievable eroticism of the situation, yet it transcended even that. She felt, at once, a peace and an ecstasy beyond description. While she continued to suck on the guest, Matt took the man's balls into his mouth. As he watched his beautiful Jenn bob tirelessly on the turgid prick, he felt a glowing comfort and joy, sitting, nonetheless, precariously on the edge of the crushing guilt and despair that was now permanently resident within him. Even as he basked in its momentary warmth, a part of him knew he didn't deserve it. "Have I really dragged her down to this?" he asked himself, rhetorically, for he firmly believed that her present situation was entirely his fault.

As the indicators of impending orgasm became apparent – the balls tightened up, the penis began to twitch, the hips began to thrust spasmodically – Matt moved up to take the throbbing erection into his own mouth again, allowing Jenn to spread her lingual caresses between his face and the man's balls. The climax was sudden and violent, the man's hands appearing to firmly impale Matt on his jetting prick. Jenn kissed, sucked and licked Matt's frantically working Adam's apple, holding one hand on the shaking scrotum before them, the other twiddling at Matt's chest. Almost casually, she allowed herself to ride to another mild yet sensuously delicious orgasm. Meanwhile, the client’s ejaculation was so voluminous that Matt was unable to swallow it all. White come dribbled lewdly from around the wilting cock, down his chin. Without hesitation Jenn pressed her face into his, running her tongue circuitously from his chin to the corners of his mouth, lapping up the dribbling effusion, and licking him clean as the semi-rigid penis slowly, reluctantly withdrew from between his lips. Continuing to lave both Matt and the retreating cock, Jenn purred, complete satisfaction colouring her face.

Matt's own cock now commanded attention, bouncing and twitching in frustrated urgency. So, as Jenn blessed him with her radiant smile, she let her hand drop, to come to rest on his jerking manhood. One of those rare moments of silence and stillness followed. Then a voice from above remarked, "Ah, quite a team. Husband and wife you say? Curious." The tablecloth was lifted briefly as a few of the nearby guests took an interest in “our peculiar couple.” Matt and Jenn, their eyes locked together, were motionless. Jenn held his cock in one hand; he held her breast. They remained oblivious to their surroundings, the eyes and comments of those watching. Staring intensely deep one into the other, they were sharing something private and special – a totally abstract yet mutual understanding – something precious. The reverie, the transcendent was as powerful as it was fleeting.

"Our little wife seems to be neglecting her marital duties," someone chuckled, "Look at his woeful hard-on." With that nearby chairs were pulled back and two handlers appeared, crouching at the table’s edge, before the stunned couple. Matt and Jenn were hauled out by their platforms, still dazed, and suddenly scrambling to keep their balance, into the light of the open room – out of the protective cocoon of the shrouded under-table. Still fixed to their perches and dragging them by their backsides, the Andersons, husband and wife, were positioned facing each other. Jenn froze in anticipation, shivers, tremors rippling up her back and across her chest. What was about to happen? Matt couldn't pull his eyes from his spouse. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her, glistening with a sheen of sweat and come, adorned with the leather accouterments of their position. Why couldn't they still be together, he wondered, hungrily drinking her in before someone removed her again? Some other guests left their places as well, and a small crowd gathered around. Jenn gazed into Matt's eyes, hoping to draw strength from him for she was suddenly frightened – not of the immediate future, but of the long-term. Once again she wondered how the path had led them there. Matt returned her gaze, her confusion mirrored in his eyes. Jenn felt his entire universe suddenly focus on her; it warmed her, soothed her. He was aware of nothing except that he loved Jenn more than anything – more than life itself, and that he was sorry – sorry that he had brought them to this. At the edge of her periphery, Jenn saw his erection wilt a little. Sadness coloured his eyes. Jenn's smile expressed her love and sympathy with an incandescence that was unmistakable.

Once the crowd had settled, one of the women leaned over to Jenn and whispered, "There you are, dear.” She pushed Jenn's stool with her foot, towards Matt. Still gazing into Matt's wondrous eyes, Jenn didn't move, her head awash with confused emotion. The woman urged patiently, using the level authoritative voice a teacher might use with a primary student, "He needs you, my girl; needs you to suck him off – before you go."

Matt's cock shuddered back to full attention, quivering in anticipation. Jenn slipped forward, smoothly engulfing it in one motion, forcing her lips into his pubic beard. She reached her hands up over her head to play at his nipples as his hands cupped her hanging tits, and his fingers subtly bothered her hardened buds. Then it all hit her. This was real. This wasn't just another cock, this was her husband's cock. This was Matt's. This was Patrick! She instantly forgot everything else and threw herself into felatio with such wild abandon that she drew murmurs of admiration from the spectators; drew gasps and sighs from Matt. As she felt him approaching, she detected, also, the wild surge of sensation rising once again from between her own legs. Her head, bobbing with increased gusto, translated to a frenzy of stimulation from the hydraulics beneath her. Matt's hands left her breasts to clasp her head and pull it hard against his root. He saw coloured lights flashing before his eyes, felt his iron rod begin to detach itself, like a rocket at lift off. He was on the edge of astral projection, the rushing energy of his arousal freeing him from his body. Like the subsonic rumbling of a deep earthquake, they both sensed the distant beginnings of his orgasm. Jenn pulled futilely, trying to swallow him completely, as his member became rigid and convulsive. Nectar boiled from his balls, rippling up the shaft to erupt with such force that Matt wavered, and went weak.