Comfort Goods

From the balcony of Dan and Tiffany's apartment, Tokyo's skyline was made of anthracite silk, where small golden lights shone like distant fireflies; red lights blinked like signals of a secret code.

Next to me, Amanda was shivering imperceptibly, her short, cream dress leaving her long legs and her round tanned shoulders exposed to the evening breeze.

"Do you like it here?"

"It's beautiful, it's like a jungle at night, I am waiting to hear insects chirp and monkeys howl...." she answered.

Her comments were always slightly offsetting, taking you a little further from where you were supposed to stand.

"It's time to return inside ", I replied.

In the large living room, Tiffany was talking to Joan, while Dan was with Joan's German husband, Joachim, who, glass in hand, was looking at Dan's collection of LPs.

We stepped in, without being noticed.

"I don't understand why Duccio brought that young slut..."

When Joan signaled with her eyes that we were just behind her, it was too late. Tiffany turned toward us, with a grimace.

While Amanda lowered her eyes, I smiled.

"There is no need to be embarrassed, Tiffany..."

"I didn't mean to..."

"What, you didn't mean to say is that no properly educated girl would associate to a man thirty years her senior?"

"Well, if you say so...."

By now everybody had gathered around the black leather sofa, standing, expecting the resolution of this sudden confrontation.

I sat, Amanda next to me, my hand caressing her thigh up to the skirt's hem.

"In English, you have the expression "comfort food" - in Italian, we have something similar - we say "comfort goods".

It has a little broader meaning - they are things that help you pass time, and give life its most basic and pleasurable meaning; goods you enjoy alone or with friends. Wine, food, cigars. Joachim and Joan brought a nice bottle of Japanese whisky - an aged Hibiki. You, Tiffany, prepared all these delicious tiny tapas. I brought Amanda."

The young girl turned to me and smiled softly.

"It's not like we can eat or drink her!" objected Joachim.

"Drop your dress, Amanda."

Obediently the girl pulled down the zip at the back, and let the dress fell on her feet.

I could see the eyes of my friends roaming on her body, lean and flawless. Her breasts blossomed on her torso like ripe fruits; her shaven, curved pubis ended with a folded slit, little more than a scalpel's incision.

"This is crazy! What do you want to prove, Duccio?" Tiffany couldn't make sense of what was happening.

"She is beautiful - do you want to humiliate us, show that you can still fuck a young girl - this is pathetic!"

"She is not here for me. I brought her as Joachim brought whisky, as you prepared food for us. She is my comfort goods. You can use her, use her mouth, use her ass. Men are invited to leave her vulva alone - that might produce unwanted drama later.

But all of you can taste her if you wish so."

My friends looked at each other; I could see different feelings in their eyes and the stress building within the couples. I didn't want to look at them, yet I couldn't take my eyes away without emphasizing the silent struggles that were being fought.

I put my palm to rest on the curved line of Amanda's ass.

"Your friends don't like me, what did you think when you took me here?" she complained, wearing her nakedness like the cape of a queen.

"My friends already love you, and later they'll get the courage to admit it...go to the bathroom to wait for them."

I saw her disappearing through the room, the stiletto shoes making her swing, the naked masses of her buttocks dancing at an alternating pace, a stroke of black ink parting her bronze back at the spine.

Their eyes had all followed her, in silence, each of them biding their chance.

"Dan is the host - he should sacrifice himself to please you..." suggested Joachim ironically.

"You want my husband to go, so you can follow," hissed Tiffany.

"I don't mind if you go Joachim...as long as I can watch you and her..." said Joan.

The German man looked at his wife, surprised, then he took her hand and left.

"You are making a brothel of my house..." complained Tiffany.

"No money is exchanged, so technically you are wrong...and about your comment before...you are a beautiful woman..."

Tiffany laughed bitterly.

"You forgot "still"..."

Dan realized that the conversation was now beyond his wit, walked away, and hid himself behind the sleeve of a Miles Davis concert bootleg disc.

"Maybe I should have brought the food, and then you could have taken Amanda's place..."

"Could I?" behind the irony, her eyes looked inquisitive.

"You could..." I confirmed.

Her tone changed suddenly.

"Touch my breasts then, my nipples are hard because of your little slut..." she begged, smiling bitterly.

"Won't Dan mind? He is my friend..."

"I know that soon he will be in the other room, and Joan will see the lovely mouth of your pretty Amanda drink his semen too..."

I didn't need much more to be convinced, her large American breasts had tempted me more than once, now they were swelling freely below the silk blouse. I caressed them, and she pulled her head back, showing her beautiful neck.

"I think I'll join the others..."

Without us noticing, Dan had reached us.

"Bringing Amanda has been a wonderful idea...it would be a pity to let such gift go wasted..." he added, looking at us like he wasn't noticing or didn't bother that my hand was squeezing his wife's boobs.

Because of his negligence, my hand became more arrogant, claiming them as my own. I pinched her nipples hard, the resistance of the hardened flesh between my fingers annoying, such that I continued until she let out a cry.

By then, he wasn't there anymore.

So I let her go, and she pulled her head up, her blue eyes bright yet misty, like the light at dawn on a sunny spring day.

Joan and Joachim returned to the living room, where I was sipping a glass of the excellent whisky they had brought to the party.

"I see that you are fully applying your concept of comfort..." said Joan, chuckling.

Knelt in front of me, my penis in her mouth, Tiffany turned toward her, startled, and tried to move away, but with my free hand I pushed her against my crotch, making her gag.

Maybe she had drunk too much, but when we were left alone it was like she could feel lust in the air, and had asked to taste my cock, the first time - she had said - she was doing it for another man after marrying Dan.

It was easy for me to accept.

Maybe she thought that it could be over before the others would return...well, she had miscalculated, and now she could only continue sucking my cock, under the curious eyes of her best friend and her husband.

"I told you she has a magnificent ass..." said Joan to Joachim, pulling up Tiffany's dress, and at the same time pulling her black lace panties, which rolled down just above her knees.

"These are truly buttocks of a mare..." confirmed Joachim, putting both his large, strong hands on them, truly appraising them like muscular, large hindquarters of a horse. The blonde American tried to escape that grasp, but at the same time, she was constrained by the impossibility of escaping my penis.

Now Joan took the collar of her one-piece dress, and ripped it, baring her back, and leaving it to hang loose below the shoulders, just above the hips.

"Such an expensive dress!" Joachim simulated shock at her wife's move.

"We bought it at a sale, she didn't pay more than 20000 yen..." she explained.

"A few years more, and she'll be an old hag, her skin is starting to lose elasticity..." observes bluntly Joachim, partial to his wife.

It was true that, due to her statuesque figure, Tiffany was aging faster than the lean, bony Joan, yet her decline was still very slow, and in the maturation of her body there was a special complexity, that, lacking a better word, could be called aging, such as that of a fine wine.

The man's hands now moved closer to the inner junction of the buttocks, and opened them like the halves of a peach, displaying the black hole of the anus.

"It seems this flower has blossomed many times...Dan enjoys your rear passage, isn't it, Tiffany?"

The blonde woman moved like she wanted to object to that blunt comment, but could only release the small, constrained movements of a large mammal trapped, unable to escape her bonds.

She had a lapse of concentration, so I slapped her, and she looked at me startled by that indignity, but surely my gesture had been effective because she started to suck with renewed passion.

I felt that soon I was going to ejaculate unless I stopped her.

Now Dan stepped into the room and Tiffany let my cock slip off her mouth.

Satisfied for the time being and unwilling to cum, I put it back into my trousers, curious to see the reaction of my friend at seeing his wife, half-naked, kneeling in front of me.

Still on her fours, Tiffany protested.

"It's not what you think..."

"Then tell me what it is...I left you begging Duccio to squeeze your udders like a cow full of milk..."

"Well..." all eyes on her, Tiffany couldn't deny.

"I guess once a whore, always a whore..."

"No!"

"That's how I found you, isn't it? Sucking the cock of a customer, offering your asshole to another, keen to make a fast buck..."

It was difficult to imagine that proud, slightly prudish Tiffany was the woman that Dan was describing.

"Just one thing is missing...tell your friend what was the only thing you were wearing that night..."

Tiffany remained silent, her eyes begging Dan for forgiveness; unable to get it, she lowered her eyes and confessed.

"It was...a collar..." "Yes, you were collared like a bitch dog...that was your job for the night...you were going to be the dog pet of your customer...later they stuck a furry butt tail in your ass, they made you wiggle, you obeyed, happy to please him. You ate from a bowl on the floor, near his feet....we played poker, he was too busy fingering you or enjoying your mouth on his cock....he lost concentration, lost his money and he bet you, I won you and I brought you home for the night.... you begged that you were no whore, that you had made a big mistake....that you.had started with the only purpose to pay for your studies and then you didn't have the strength to stop....begged me to help you change your life..."

"No Dan! Please, it's true, it was a mistake!"

He slapped her.

"Shut up!" I could see Joan looking at Tiffany, excited by her humiliation, her lips slightly parted, inadvertently she pinched one of her nipples through the dress's fabric.

"I still have the collar you took off that night and never wore again...how many years have passed? Maybe ten...well...the time has come for you to return to be a bitch dog!"

"No! Please!"

Without bothering to answer to his wife, Dan opened a drawer in the large wooden cabinet on one side of the living room and pulled out a studded burgundy collar.

"Here it is...it's time for you to wear it again..."

Suddenly Tiffany stood up and looked around like she was trying to look for an escape route.

Everybody looked at the helpless, naked woman, curious and excited about what was going to happen next.

Dan moved toward her, and she suddenly froze, defeated.

He grabbed her blonde hair, bared her neck, and put the collar in place. A long steel chain was attached to it.

He pulled it, and she bent, her hands on the floor, her knees straight.

Dan started pulling her by the leash, and Tiffany started to move on her fours.

"Swing your ass, bitch!" He spanked her, and slowly she started to move her large ass.

"Rise your chin! Look at your friends! Let them see in your eyes who you truly are!"

He moved her in front of us, one by one, to the triumphant Joan, the sneering Joachim, and in front of me.

I think I saw an acceptance in her eyes of a destiny she couldn't escape, and maybe a vague regret of that moment she had let me go beyond her guard.

Dan continued to parade her, enjoying her distress, he had taken off his belt, folded in two, and when he thought that her movements were too slow or not enticing enough, he whipped her ass with a single, hard blow; it was enough to motivate her to show more enthusiasm.

"That's enough for now...I guess our guests are tired to see a bitch crawling on the floor..."

Saying these words, Dan pushed Tiffany against the table at the center of the room and secured the leash to the table stand.

He checked again into the drawers and came back with ropes he used to tie the wrists and the calves so that the legs remained well open.

"You guessed it, right guys..." explained Dan, using a couple of fingers to play with her wife's displayed asshole.

"This is one of the two holes I use regularly...the other being the mouth - it's not that the pussy remains idle...from time to time I like Tiffany to put a nice show for me...sometimes I reward her by letting her cum..."

The tied blonde woman tried to free herself as if she wanted to rise and object but clearly couldn't do much but to blubber some incoherent sounds, which didn't make sense.

"Who wants a whisky?" asked Dan to his guests, abandoning the tied woman.

A few moments later, while Dan was explaining some arcane rules of American football, Amanda returned, in the splendor of her lean nudity, and squatted at my feet, resting her head on my thighs.

"I took a shower....", she explained.

I played a little with her mouth, contouring her lips with my thumb. She played with it, like a hungry cub.

"You are a wonderful cocksucker!" commented Joachim.

"Thank you, sir!"

"She has a small, nervous ass too.." added Joan, caressing it.

"I bet you must feel like a rabbit on a spit when Duccio fucks it!"

"Yes sir...and it's a wonderful feeling!" she answered, smiling softly at me.

"But what happened to her?" Amanda asked, pointing at the tied blonde woman.

"Well...Tiffany discovered she can't abandon her true vocation...being a whore!" explained Dan.

"She was rude to you before, isn't it?"

"That was nothing, sir...it made me laugh...I am proud to be Duccio's slut!"

"She meant it as an insult though, and now she has to apologize!"

"If you think so, sir..."

"Of course!"

Dan took Amanda's hand and led her so that she could be in front of Tiffany. We followed them.

"You should never offend my guests, Tiff!"

"I said the truth, she is a slut!" replied angrily the tied woman, untamed.

"Is it so?"

Her husband went again to the wooden cabinet, opened another drawer, and extracted a thin, long wooden cane.

"It's time you learn some discipline!"

"You won't..." cried Tiffany, trying to free herself, but the words changed into a cry of pain."Aaaah!" The cane had stroke two or three times, in rapid succession.

"Will you apologize?"

"No!"

Dan stroke again, a series of blows, that left crimson lines on Tiffany's creamy ass.

Yet, she remained silent and defiant.

It seemed that Joan couldn't take it anymore. She moved near Dan, almost shivering in excitement, I could feel her smell in the air.

"May I take your place? I also wondered what it means to cane an ass...and I think she should apologize to me too..."

"Why should that be? I haven't done anything to you!" objected Tiffany.

"Be polite to your friend!" ordered Dan, hitting her ass again.

"I always found your insistence to strive for perfection annoying, bitch!" made clear Joan.

"Now you have a way to help Tiff to become perfect...after all, you are her best friend...and friends should help us to correct our bad habits!"

"I like how she moves her ass trying to free herself...it makes it more enticing!" commented Joachim.

"Will you apologize to Amanda?" asked Joan, caressing her ass, following with a finger one of the cane's long marks.

"No!" insisted Tiffany.

"Well then..."

The first blows landed soft, or imprecise, but soon she started getting a rhythm, and with rhythm came strength. Tiffany started sweating, tears appeared at the side of the eyes, and she left out moans of pain.

"She might be orgasming out of this...her cries are not different from when she cums!" Dan commented laughing.

In the meanwhile Joan continued, methodical and relentless. Tiffany's ass was becoming a consistent red, and then purple, and somewhere through the ripped flesh drops of blood formed.

"Please stop! I'll...apologize!"

"First thank your friend for correcting your attitude!"

"Thank...you...Joan..."

"I think you can do better than that!"

"Thank you, Joan, for caning me and correcting my bad attitude!"

"Yes, that's better...now you can apologize to Amanda..."

"Sorry...Amanda...I shouldn't have called you a slut before!"

"And why is that?"

Her husband looked at her from above, she struggled from her position to look at him.

"Because...I am the only slut here!"

"Very well...but I am afraid it's not enough...it took you forever...I think you have to lick her pussy to show your sincerity..."

"No! I am not a lesbian!" cried the blonde woman.

"I saw you licking pussy at the club before..."

"That was...a job..." replied Tiffany, but her words came out unconvincing - she knew that it was a very weak objection.

"In any case, it's a punishment, so you are not supposed to like it, isn't it? And it will show very clearly who is the slut and the whore here...please help me!"

Saying so, Dan asked me to take one of Amanda's thighs - he had taken the other one, and we raised her so that her pussy was at the same height and close to Tiffany's mouth so that she had no other alternative to start licking the young girl's pussy.

"It's so good!" moaned Amanda, after a while. Besides her thighs, we were holding her by the shoulders."Take me closer to her! Aaah...I want her tongue to drown in my wet sex!"

The young woman thrust her muscular hips against Tiffany's mouth, just like she was fucking her mouth; her hands had grabbed the blond hair and were effectively controlling Tiffany's head.

"She's wet as a mop!" exclaimed Joan laughing, who had stuck two fingers in her friend's pussy.

"Hard to believe she's not loving what she's doing!"

"She is cumming now!" commented Joachim, looking at Amanda, while sipping his whisky.

The young girl was shaking her head, groaning, her hand moving Tiffany's head back and forth, rapidly.

Then she let it go and tilted her head, with her hair plastered by sweat, her breath broken.

"I guess that's it...Tiffany learned her lesson, isn't it?"

"Yes...I am sorry for what I said before...Miss Amanda...please forgive this slut!"

"That's ok...may I call you Tiff, from now on?" she answered.

"You can call me what you want Miss..." replied the defeated blonde, her mascara dripping on her cheeks.

"You're such a pathetic clown! - commented Joan, chuckling, slapping her."

"Well...if you don't mind Dan... I guess it's time I fuck your wife's ass!" said Joachim, dropping his pants.

"Be my guest!" nodded Tiff's husband, while she begged.

"Please! Don't do this to me..."

"You should ask permission to me too, isn't it dear?" giggled Joan, caressing the German's cock, already approaching the bent woman's rear entrance.

"Would you let me fuck your best friend's asshole, dear?"

"Why not? Actually...I am going to help you!" saying so, with one hand she opened the blonde's anus, and with the other she pushed her husband's cock into the passage she had made more accessible.

"Ahahah!"

"Shut up and enjoy!"

Dan walked over to his wife and started stroking her hair.

"Just relax dear....it's not like you are an anal virgin..."

"I don't want this!" Tiffany tried to protest.

"I guess you don't know anymore what is good for you..." saying so, he unzipped his trousers, and penetrate her mouth.