the life and musings of a kinky slut

A Show

We all sat, luxuriating on the couches, our bellies full with delicious foods.

Randomly, Hammer subtly gestured to the seating area directly across from us, about twenty feet away. With his body turned, blocking the sight line of the foreign assemblage, he spoke.

“They’re looking at us.”

Indeed, when I peaked my head to my left, I saw a man from their group was staring intently. The others would look for a moment, then dash their gaze away, talking to those seated near. Lochai too confirmed we indeed had an audience.

When I looked on our group, I could understand why we drew the others’ attention. There were twelve of us, everyone attractive. Almost all were smartly dressed. (I was invited to the dinner last minute, therefore I donned a mere tank top and jeans.)

None of us shied away from affection. Arms intertwined. Kisses were freely given. Bodies reclined into other bodies. We had been in high spirits throughout the previous five courses of our seven course meal.

“If they want to watch, we’ll give them a show,” said Slut. I liked her thinking.

Our sixth course, baskets of fresh fruit and nuts, was brought out to us. We happily cracked our nuts, including Devil laying one in TwistedView’s lap and then uncasing his treat.

I chose a banana, always endeavoring to increase my potassium. Popping open the peel, I decided to practice my training. Slowly gliding the banana into my mouth, I relaxed and opened up my throat. It was the first time I’d practiced deep throating in almost two months.

The first time I gagged slightly. The second and third times were better, no gagging and I was able to fit in about five inches. I then ate the soft flesh, happy with my short practice.

No one in my group took notice of my banana fun. I didn’t care if the audience had by chance observed me.

To my right, Slut had selected an apple. She pulled out her blade, cut into the flesh of the fruit, and ate it bit by bit. Slicing off a piece, she held it for me. I bent my head down and ate from her hand.

Again she sliced a piece, but this time she grabbed my hair and reclined my head back. The fruit hovered just above my lips. I ate from her hand, then tasted her lips as she kissed me.

I didn’t bother looking over at our audience. They didn’t matter to me; I didn’t care if they watched.

One of the luxuries of being open about who you are and the life you live is genuinely not giving a shit what other people think about it.

Categorised as: Friends | Random

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