Grain Dealer -or- Invitation Only

When both Chloe and Glenn failed to respond for several seconds, Blondie came back on line. "Seriously. If you're not up to just going on-stage cold, so to speak, well, we can understand that perfectly. But if you're interested at all, then please do come over her and join us in person! It sounds odd, but the in-person approach is actually easier than being on stage by yourselves with a passive audience. Believe me, we do know! We can guarantee it would be a very enjoyable experience. For one and all."

Chloe sputtered aloud, and so, she was relieved to notice, did Glenn. Inside her, Glenn's cock retained its interest in the situation, and its perfect arousal. In spite of the audience, she was enjoying the sensations she was providing to herself by tiny slidings fore and aft, just enough to pleasantly wobble her cervix. ("Or, just maybe, a little-tiny-bit because of the audience?" Her mind insisted on asking the question of itself, and then refused to answer! What if Blondie were right? Wouldn't that make Chloe a terrible, horrible, dirty-minded little person?)

This invitation was for something she had never thought about doing. Never. Well, not really and truly "NEVER", because to be sure, like most women, she'd had her share of utterly private fantasies about groups, the old Bob-Carol-Ted-Alice movie thing. But to be confronted with an actual invitation? And from literally total strangers? Participatory in exactly what?

Glenn reached over to the phone, said quietly into it, "I believe we need a moment to talk this over. We'll be right back." He hit "hold". Across the way, Blondie nodded at them in the mirror.

Glenn twitched himself inside Chloe, and she responded with squeezings. Finally, Glenn spoke. "Well? It's an intriguing idea, isn't it? Are you interested, at all? I've never done anything like this, not really. Plenty of fantasies, though. But it's really important to know whether it would it kill any chance we have for continuing what we've just started... I don't want to do that sort of damage to something that might become very special! It's easy to turn down this fantasy, Chloe, if it isn't right."

Chloe's mind was racing, but the intellect was far behind her libido and her bodily wants. She suddenly felt genuinely shy, and muttered into the tabletop, without turning her head, "I think I'd like to try it. If you would. I don't think it should cause any difficulty between us, if there IS anything to "US" in the future. YES!" Her heart was thundering along now at a great pace.

Then she giggled, looked back over her shoulder at Glenn and whispered "This is CRAZY! We've never even seen one another naked, Glenn! And now we're planning to go over there and, well, I suppose at least FUCK in their presence. If not actually WITH them! What a way to for us, you and me, to begin our non-business relationship! This isn't the way I normally behave, you know, and it's certainly not how I was brought UP! Are we FRUITCAKES, or what?"

Glenn shrugged, laughed with her, and agreed: "Obviously, we're fruitcakes! Shall I tell her?" Chloe nodded.

Blondie was pleased. Then she said "There are rules. Everyone must know the rules and agree to them. First, no names. Second, no hurting of any sort. Any time anyone says to stop, that is what happens. The objective is purely to give everyone the maximum pleasure, which certainly can mean different things to different people - but everything that is done has to be pleasant for BOTH the giver and receiver.

Here in my apartment, I am the MISTRESS of ceremonies, and my job is to orchestrate things. You will have to be silent over here, except when spoken to, and you have to follow orders, no matter how odd they may seem. I guarantee you'll like what happens, but you have to be able to relax and just flow with the scene. And there is a code word: if anyone says it out loud, it means they are so uncomfortable of frightened or upset that they absolutely want to stop everything immediately... if anyone says the word, that's the instant end of the entertainment. Understood?"

Glenn and Chloe studied one another for a second, nodded to each other, and Chloe croaked "Very well! What is the word?"

Blondie thought for a second, and then sad "Mitochondria. Not a word likely to be accidentally dropped into our conversation, is it? Come on over. Apartment 1728. We'll be ready for you. Knock three times. And... relax! It may be unusual, but it's going to be pure enjoyment. The Mistress promises. On her word of honor!"

In a few moments, they were in the elevator, headed down. Chloe buried her face against Glenn's chest, shivering hard with nervous excitement. He wrapped her protectively in his arms and whispered "You okay? With all this?"

She nodded against him: it was awfully comfortable and safe, here in his arms. She started to say something, then stopped. He urged her on, and finally she whispered "Glenn, what if you don't like what I look like. Naked, I mean?"

He took her face in his hands, tilted it up towards his, and said "There is absolutely no chance of that, Miss Brit. I've seen plenty enough already to know that your body is nearly my ideal. Blondie over there is a very nicely built woman, but I greatly prefer my women like you... you are PERFECT. I have exactly the same worries, you know... about YOU thinking that I'm physically attractive. Wondering if I'll come up to YOUR standards. So quit worrying!" The kiss that followed proved he meant it.

Arm in arm, they exited the elevator, strode across the lobby to the outer door. It wasn't a minute's walk to the other building. The air in the new elevator seemed alternately stifling and icy. They held hands tightly, grinning at one another, as they walked down the 17th floor hallway studying door numbers.

Seventeen-twenty-eight. Plain wood, no names, no decoration. Just a peephole. They stood beside the innocent-looking apartment door, looking at one another. "Moment of truth?" whispered Chloe. She wasn't at all certain about proceeding, and her stomach was alternating between the thrill of butterflies and the agony of knots.

Glenn seemed to read her thoughts, and share her hesitancy. He grinned slightly and whispered back "God almighty, Chloe! This is the sort of thing every man fantasizes about, at least occasionally. But for sure I never thought I'd get an invitation to actually DO something like this. So please, tell me again, England, are you genuinely up to it? Are you as curious, and as turned on, as I am? I really, truly don't want to push you, not in the least. Because first of all I can understand it totally if you aren't, and second, I like you. A lot. In fact, a hell of a lot. I really don't want some damn-foolishness to spoil what has already this evening become an even better relationship. So if you have any doubts, let's just turn around. We could leave and go to my place for an encore. One-on-one. If you'd prefer. Of course, we could do that after this, as well..."

It was nice of him to say those things, thought Chloe. Intellectually, she thought she should undoubtedly beat a retreat, with or without Glenn. Preferably with. But the butterflies in her stomach, and her own imaginings, were gaining control. Yes, of course, she'd had vague fantasies about multiple partners, groups. Nothing very specific, but warmly interesting. And it certainly was a recurrent theme in written and video porn, so her little tickle of interest wasn't all THAT unusual, was it?

And - as to taking any stab at making those inchoate ideas into reality, well, if not here and now, with these three attractive people thousands of miles from her own home, while she was emotionally unattached, then when? Thirty years from now, with lowered capabilities, heightened needs, loads of frustrations built up, and not-so-pretty future ageing strangers?

Butterflies conquered knots. She took Glenn's hand, raised it with her own, and together they knocked. It felt, she guessed, somewhat like stepping off a tall bridge on one's very first bungee jump.

The door opened silently. Blondie stood there in a floor-length transparent black negligee. Yul stood beside her, dressed only in a black nylon-net jock-strap and a beautifully-tailored, snug-fitting black leather hood.

Chloe stared: Yul was the child's-comic caricature of a hooded executioner, at least from the waist up. From there down, it was another story entirely. The black pouch of his semi-transparent jockstrap was packed absolutely full, yet somehow it managed to cover all of the contents while revealing oh-so-much. It was a very clever piece of intimate couture, which made it screamingly obvious that he was as erect now as he had been while they watched him earlier, fucking Blondie.

The hood covered his entire head, 360 degrees, from crown to throat. In a way, though Chloe, that was too bad: Yul was handsome in addition to being so big and well-hung. She hadn't really looked at his face much during the earlier show (her attention had been elsewhere) but he was certainly an attractive man. Chance now gone. But the mystery of the leather hood added spice. The eye-holes let his piercing blue irises show through: she hadn't been able to see the color from across the way, but since he was blond it wasn't unexpected. Another hole let his nose protrude. His mouth was invisible behind a wide flap that was firmly fastened down. He stood there, silent, impassive, impressive, with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Chloe and Glenn goggled: this was straight out of those oddball cartoons one sometimes saw in the cheaper men's magazines.

Yul scanned the two of them up and down, just the tiniest tilt of his head. Chloe could read nothing whatever from either his eyes or his body language. She felt as if she now knew how an intelligent horse might feel in the auctioneer's ring, under a buyer's gaze. It was enough to raise goose-bumps again, in very large quantities.

Yul motioned them inside, shut the door behind them. Blondie reached over to a little sideboard next to the door, picked up three champagne flutes, poured from an already-open bottle, passed the glasses around. Yul, with his mouth-flap, got none. Nobody had said a word so far. Then Blondie grinned broadly, and said "A salute to your courage and adventuresome spirits, Mister M and England! I won a major bet with Yul, here... he had no faith in you... or in my ability to predict, either. For which indiscretion and failure I shall eventually punish him." Yul didn't twitch.

They drank the toast: the wine was excellent.

Chloe couldn't help herself: she kept staring at the impassive Yul in his outfit. Blondie let her do so for some seconds. Chloe started to speak, but Blondie held up her gloved hand, said "Remember the rules. No speaking unless spoken to. Mistress must be obeyed, to the great and lasting pleasure of all. Do you both remember the safety word?"

She watched Chloe and Glenn as they nodded together. She spoke again: "So my big, blond muscle-bound Yul has gotten your attention, has he? That's good. I'd be upset if he didn't! So would he. As for the mask, well, there's a reason... actually, lots of reasons, my dears. Yul, here, is a typical male, I'm afraid. Scared silly about commitments and making real emotional contact. So the mask totally depersonalizes him. You'll never see him up close as a real human being, loves. That's reserved for me alone."

"For your information, England, well... let's just say this big hulk is the world's most intelligent, powerful, and long-lasting other-directed dildo-slash-vibrator. He can be very, very good for a woman, but he prefers a high degree of impersonality in the relationships. I think the whole idea of being an on-command fucking machine feeds his machismo. Whatever, it does turn him on, which is good for us all. Anyhow, if you can handle a living dildo, that's what you have here."

A long pause, then Blondie turned to Glenn and said "As for you, Mister M... you look like an intelligent man. Surely your ego and libido aren't going to be threatened by seeing your ladyfriend playing with herself using a dildo, are they? Even if it's such a nice one? Especially if you get to participate in some interesting ways? You can nod if everything will be okay from your perspective."

Glenn's mouth was dry: he was trying to imagine exactly what he might be in for, here. Fortunately, he didn't have to speak, and managed to simply nod.

Blondie smiled at him, and said "Good!" Then it was "Finish your wine, dears. NOW!" Chloe and Glenn eyed one another, then did as told. Silently. Obedience was becoming easier, thought Chloe. Odd how that worked!

Yul collected the glasses. He moved like a tiger, silently. The long muscles of his legs moved beneath his taut skin. Chloe eyed his butt again: it was even nicer up this close. She discovered that the impersonality was doing interesting things to the perceptions, and to her insides as well.

Blondie shrugged the negligee off her shoulders, letting it puddle about her feet. She was truly striking, up this close and naked. Mature breasts, heavy-hanging, yielding gracefully to gravity but still with a bit of up-tilt at the nipples. The sunset glow bathed her in an almost iridescent sheen as it reflected off a microscopic furze of skin-hairs. Flat-bellied: she obviously worked out in addition to running. Her body jewelry glittered, and her pubic slit stood out clearly through her short-cropped bush. She eyed them, then did a quick pirouette, showing off. Teasing? Beautiful buttocks - prominent, with a deep, shadowy cleft.

Both Glenn and Chloe took in short, sharp breaths, some combination of admiration and erotic response, then looked at one another in equal measures of surprise.

"Like what you see, do you? Does your response surprise you, England? Didn't expect that, did you? But then, we're all naïve about ourselves in many ways. Especially sexually, given how our western society treats the topic. God knows I was! Lots more surprises to come. Soon enough."

Then, abruptly, firmly, she said "Strip one another. Slowly, but don't stop moving until you're done. Yul and I will just stand here and watch. We need to see what sort of raw materials you bring to the party. Since you two have already inspected us pretty closely, it's our turn-about now. Especially YOU!" She tapped Chloe gently on the nose, then on each rock-like little nipple where it showed through her thin blouse.

"You, here... little miss PRIM herself, with those big binoculars. Especially you! I'll just bet you could draw me a good map of the veins on Yul's cock, couldn't you?" Chloe went crimson from hairline to toes. Yes, she thought, in fact, what with her memory for details, she probably could!

Chloe and Glenn faced one another, and found some relief from their resurgence of embarrassment: the arrangement gave a little phony privacy, for it put the other couple at the limits of their peripheral vision. They did as commanded, very slowly.

The skirt came off first. Chloe caught a little body movement from Yul as he noticed her garter belt and hose. It was nice that she could surprise such a hunk, she thought. Blondie grinned appreciatively when she saw the useless bra and thong, and said "Nice of you not to get rid of the evidence. Very sexy indeed. Good pupils, you are. Ahead of your Mistress!"

Chloe was amused at the swarms of male goose-bumps that arose at her tiny touches on Glenn's body. Not to mention the same on her own skin. She was genuinely curious what he looked like, naked, and that preoccupied her as well. How intensely odd, she thought, to be uncovering her new lover's body for the very first time under orders from strangers! And with up-close witnesses, too.

She and Glenn both liked what they saw: each fit the other's ideas of "something nice in a human body" very well. His eyes told her, as did his fingertips, and she tried to be sure he could see the same thing in her eyes.

The exchange, completely silent and from a foot apart, warmed her immensely. Tiny, she stood there facing him, breasts hard as nipples, nipples fully erect. Her pits were more than damp. Between them, Glenn's erection bobbed slightly with his pulse. As her fingertips had told her, he was clean-shaven. She'd never seen a man that way, but it made her mouth water to think of touching that soft-looking skin, immediately beside his hardness. Perhaps, shortly, Mistress Blondie would let her, more likely order her, to do so?

Mistress Blondie looked at them, eyed them up and down like a slave-market buyer. She was a perceptive observer of minutia. She analyzed the Chloe-Glenn relationship in a glance, and got it right, from the lack of shared experience, through the level of mutual attraction, to the tinges of fear and doubt about being involved in this game. She grinned: all that made her own belly roil nicely, adding spice.

She muttered "So... Little Miss England really does LIKE her Mister M, doesn't she? Don't bother protesting, dear, it's all over your face. And you're not altogether certain this get-together over here is a good idea, are you? Don't worry. It won't hurt a good relationship, no matter what stage it's in. Not if Yul over there is just a big dildo. If it does hurt things, well then, you two just weren't meant to be."

Then she addressed Yul: "Hmmmm! Tiny little bit of a thing, isn't she? And just look at that: our guest Mister M seems to have a nice, generous hardon. That's a good sign: at least he's not embarrassed to flaccidity the way so many men are. Good show, Mister M. So far. Of course, a more detailed view and inspection are necessary."

She motioned Yul to drop the jockstrap, and his grandiose splitter leapt to prominence. Full, screaming-mimi erection: he was ready. Chloe nearly gasped: one extra-large, one medium-large, in view simultaneously. She looked back and forth from one cock to the other. Oh my!

Glenn eyed Yul momentarily, returned his gaze to Mistress' breasts, then shifted to Chloe's face.

Mistress grinned at Chloe's and Glenn's twin reactions. "Of course, my little slave-boy here is pretty well endowed himself. So, at some point, we'll have to have a discussion of size versus technique versus staying power, and all that crap. But right now, there are more important things."

She turned Chloe to face her, squatted wide-kneed before her. Chloe and Glenn could both see the gape of her outer lips, the tip of her clit, exposed through her thinned-out bush. Yet another bit of jewelry popped into view: it looked for all the world as if it passed right through her clit, and the sight fascinated them both, in very different ways. Chloe almost shivered at the very thought of such a thing.

Blondie took off her right glove, reached out and stroked one red-nailed fingertip delicately down the outermost arch of Chloe's shaved pussy lip, then back upwards against the hair grain, testing for stubble. Chloe shook, and Glenn nearly died with desire. He didn't think he had ever seen something so erotic in his life, so attention-engaging that he took no further notice of Yul's distractor.

Mistress stood up, and her boobs made tiny shimmies as she donned the missing glove again.

Chloe caught Glenn's response. It took her a moment to realize that it was the same as his response to her own body: Glenn seemed to be taken by breasts in general, not size. That was good.

"Nice shave, England. That's hard to do, so smooth. Did you do it yourself, or did Mister M over there have a hand in it? I suspect not, inasmuch as you obviously have little experience as a couple. And DAMN, but you do look like a little girl down there, at least where you shaved. All white and pink. But a little reddened, a little irritated. Not to mention WET! Naughty girl! Looks to me as if this little girl has been on an adventure of some sort already. Naughty little England!"