RMN Pt. 06: Carluccio's

RestaurantMeetsNET Pt. 06: Carluccio's

Introductions and Revelations

Marion had contacted me, and very DEFINITELY, proposed that we meet, in Carluccio's in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

She planned to have a 'Culture Week'. She had rented a small house, as near to the centre of Stratford as she could get, in which to stay for a week, from a particular Saturday; and go to one or two Shakespearian plays, or whatever, once or twice a day, depending on what was playing and when.

Apart, that is, from Friday afternoon until Sunday morning, where the plan was that she would get 'fucked into a gibbering wreck'; by yours truly, before heading for home on Sunday afternoon.

I'm sure that you will conceive that that took little persuasion! It took her all of five minutes to 'convince' me that it would be 'worth my while'.

And she had a special surprise for me as well!

Well, of course -- she wouldn't; and didn't! It wouldn't have been a surprise if she had, now, would it?

* * * * *

She was late, where normally she was on time. Apparently, as they left the theatre, they had bumped into one of her favourite actors, whom she had watched earlier in the week, so she 'just had' to congratulate him on his performance.

And that was the surprise. There were two of them. Marion, and a younger woman -- in, maybe, her late-twenties (at a push).

They 'swanned' into the restaurant, and, with Marion leading; came up to me as I stood to greet her (them) -- and, as if we were alone, she wrapped her arms around my neck and then spent a few minutes swabbing out my mouth with her tongue -- while rubbing herself against me, as I tried to watch her companion. Then she released my mouth, and, still with her arms around my neck, rested her forehead against my chest, and muttered, "Oh, God, I've been looking forward to that," and she bumped me, not over-subtly with her tummy on my nascent erection, whispered, "and lots, and lots more, of course!"

Then she giggled, and flicked a look at her gaping companion.

"You don't have to worry, Freddie." Marion whispered, "This is my daughter, Caroline. She knows all about us. She's a member of MeetsNet. But she doesn't believe your intentions towards me are purely carnal. She's sure you want me for my other things — money, for instance. I'm hoping that we can persuade her otherwise."

In the pause, I jumped in with, "Nice to see you again, too, Marion; and nice to meet you, Caroline. Why don't we sit?"

"Mum!" Caroline hissed, "I just cannot believe you did that in front of all these people!" We sat, Marion beside me (rectangular, four-seater table), and Caroline opposite her.

Marion pressed the palm of my left hand on her right thigh, just a little higher than the hem of her skirt (making sure my fingers were resting down her inner thigh), as she looked around us at the other diners. Different expressions were represented on the faces of the customers that were aware of us: -

the young studs licked their lips (Caroline, I hoped[!]), but maybe Marion;

the older studs -- licked their lips (Caroline, I expected[!]), but maybe Marion (as well?);

the young things (female) looked daggers (at Marion, from -- hate[?];

some of the 'matrons' glared at us both. ('Hate'?);

other 'matrons' -- looked at me, and licked their lips;

yet other 'matrons' looked daggers, from -- 'jealousy'[?] (Marion, I presumed).

* * * * *

"Pfff!" Marion voiced, as she flicked her hand in dismissal, "Nobody is that interested!

"I'm sure you attract even more attention when you are with one of your Silver Foxes!"

"I have never stuck my tongue down their throats," Caroline snarled (softly) back, "or rubbed their hard-ons with my fanny in a public place! And that includes Reginald!"

Marion leaned towards me and mumbled clearly enough for me to hear, without her voice carrying any further, "Reginald is Caroline's favourite Sugar-Daddy. He's married, but his wife has fairly advanced dementia, for her age, so he needs 'solace'. From Caroline. Frequently!"

The food was tasty, although we didn't choose anything really exotic.

Caroline maintained an affronted mien (or at least tried to), during the meal, but did have the good grace to be amused by some of Marion and my jests and jokes. It was our 'handsy-ness' that upset her.

Retribution

Marion had just got me naked, and we were stretched out next to each other, on the bed. Long ago, I had learned that Marion became like very, very, soft putty in my hands when I skimmed my lips over the skin on her neck, just below her ears -- as I teased her nipples with my finger-nails.

But this time I teased her, by just lip caressing her neck, but without touching her anywhere else.

When she reached for me, in her need for stimulation, I backed off, and demanded that she put both her hands under the pillows that were supporting her head. She was NOT to touch me, or I would leave the room, and possibly the house.

I told her that she had been very naughty, bringing Caroline without warning me. So, she would have to suffer the consequences.

She whined about not being able to touch me. One of the aspects of our 'dirty trysts' (Can you not have such a thing? If not, why is it an actual tryst?) that she relished -- was to run her hands all over my 'hard sexy body' (her phrase), as I diddled and fiddled with her.

Tough! I had decided to torture her, I told her, so she would damned well have to put up with it!

So, I took my time, and thoroughly enjoyed her begging. That begging gradually got louder, and thus she attracted Caroline, who came into our room, ready to have a go at me, and to save her mother. But she stood there agog when she saw her mother, flat on her back; legs spread widely, knees splayed, allowing the scent of arousal to have clear air; hands 'above her head', but beneath the pillow; and mascara seeping down her cheeks -- as Caroline realised that Marion was being subjected to a 'consensual restraint' (psychological restraint, rather than physical), as she could see that her mum was keeping her hands 'locked' below the pillow by her own will.

I asked Caroline if she was willing to witness her mother's subjugation. With wide eyes she jerked a nod, so I indicated the seat that I wished her to use. She sat. This would allow her to watch how much abuse her mother was prepared to accept. The volume of Marion's begging escalated because of Caroline's presence.

Watch and Learn

During the course of that afternoon, I kissed Marion.

I kissed her lightly; and strongly; I kissed her with barely there kisses -- on her lips; her ears; her eyes; around the edges of her nipples; the skin immediately below her breasts; the skin between her breasts; her thighs, just below her pussy; her stomach, just above her pussy; the back of her knees; both bum cheeks; the small of her back; the dimples on her hips; the nape of her neck; and all points between; apart from, of course, her pussy and the nipples themselves, because I was sure -- that even one small, light, kiss would cause her to erupt.

I licked her in all those same places as well; AND between the cheeks of her bum.

I ignored all her appeals. I never laid even a finger on her. It was all 'oral'.

I could smell Caroline's arousal, even from her position five feet away, and over Marion's copious discharge.

I had ensured that I didn't stimulate her enough to give her an orgasm. Every time that she came close, I stopped immediately, until she came off the boil. When I stopped so that we could get ready to go for our evening meal, she was still awaiting her first climax.

I walked over to Caroline, held out my hand in an invite, and asked her if she was interested in receiving what her mother had experienced, but with the added bonus of as many orgasms as she could fit-in, before I had my own climax. Caroline swallowed convulsively, tried to speak -- then stiffly nodded once. Then I undressed her, teasing Marion as she pleaded to be 'finished off', and protested that I shouldn't involve Caroline; pleaded for Caroline to not indulge me. I lightly guided Caroline to the foot of the bed, and gently lowered her onto it, so that she reclined, on her back, between her mother's legs, head on her mother's mons. Caroline and I ignored Marion. Well -- that is Caroline ignored her until I rolled her until her legs were spread wide, knees at breast level, groin elevated from the bed. Then I softly kissed each of her eyelids; her lips; below each ear; each nipple; her navel; then just touched her clit with my tongue, and held it there. Once contact was made, Caroline cared for nothing other than barely holding herself together through a series of choking, gasping, whimperingly subdued -- but rigidly bone juddering -- orgasms.

SO subdued! So unlike her mother.

Isn't it surprising the effects that even only 'semi-erotic' voyeurism can create?

A 'Balls-Up'!

Marion always (for some reason) brought a selection of toys with her to our liaisons, and this time was no different. But this time there was to be a difference; this time, she would actually get to use one. Or in this case -- two. Duotone Balls!

While the three of us were out for dinner, Marion was to wear a dress, with no underwear, and 'wear' the Balls. But I told her that if she let herself climax, then I would not make love to her that evening/night. She whined in protest.

Caroline looked at me as if I was from another planet. But I think her attitude was softening towards me, especially as she enjoyed two orgasms caused, purely, by the stimulation of knowing that, however much her mum 'creamed' her seat, her mumcould not indulge herself by releasing her orgasms.

I left them for a while, instructing Caroline that she must prevent her Mum from relieving herself in my absence.

Once I returned, it seemed as if Caroline had done her job, as Marion was still as hot and grouchy as she had been when I had left the room.

I had ordered-in a Chinese meal for that evening, as I thought it best to keep Marion under close supervision. When the meal arrived, I asked Caroline to accept it, and set it out in the dishes I had set to warm in readiness, as I needed Marion for something in the bedroom. And, 'No' -- Caroline wasn't going to miss anything.

Release!

Now, I had spent much of my afternoon pleasuring these two beauties, even of only one received the ultimate pay-off. But I had received none.

I needed to get my 'Marion-fix'.

And she needed no preparation. After the hours of teasing, and taunting, and 'voyeurism', I ordered her stretched out on the bed, with her hands under the pillow.

Then I laid myself out, full length along her, made sure I had a good grip on her hands above her head... and slid into her with no finesse, but not brutally.

She orgasmed.

I stayed still within her, and awaited her quiescence.

When she descended to mere gasps and judders, I moved a few times -- retracting and inserting -- again with little finesse or brutality.

She screamed... and orgasmed spectacularly... with copious ejaculate, and went insensible.

Once she had recovered from that I let us both relax into our habitual love pattern -- long kisses of lips, eyes, throat, ears, and neck; and breasts and nipples; and thighs and pudenda.

Her eyes occasionally flickered open; her mouth seemed eternally open -- emitting gasps, and whimpers, unformed words, and groans. She had achieved a level of gibbering 'wrecked-ness', with still another day and a half of freedom, with which she could submit to my excesses, and reach utter fulfilment.

She was beautiful -- in her both agonies... and ecstasies!

* * * * *

End of Part 6