The Balcony

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You and I step toward the dance floor, both resplendent in black, one leather, one lace. Our necks show our positions: black collars on white skin. You walk out first, I hang back to watch you sway onto the floor, the rhythm taking you immediately. Then I smile back over my shoulder at our Masters, sitting, quietly watching and drinking and talking. My heels click audibly on the parquet, even over the throb of the music. The DJ is wonderful, picking just the right mix of sexy and hard to mold the dancers to his will and make them move as one sensuous body.

I move closer to you, letting my rhythm match yours, bending slightly so that my body molds to yours from behind. My hands run slowly up your sides as I feel eyes on us, two pairs in particular, and I smile, burying my face a little in your hair, seeking the warm skin of your neck with my mouth, sinking my teeth into the soft scented flesh just above the leather of your collar. My breasts rest against your back as our hips rock in tandem.

Your moan reaches my ear and your hands reach up and over to tangle in my short hair, just starting to get damp with the sweat of the dance. I wrap my arms around you, playing lightly with your nipple rings through the thin, lacy material of your shirt. My own nipples, still tender from the service I gave my Master earlier, start to tingle, getting hard from the friction of the hot leather.

You turn in my arms so that when our hips sway, they come together, and we fuck right there on the dance floor. I get wetter with every movement of your hips, and when I reach down to run my hand up your thigh, my fingers come away wet. Holding my hand out to our Owners to show then what we are doing to each other, I pull you to me and kiss you slowly. You draw me almost to a complete standstill with one hand on my lower back, one wrapping tightly in my hair.

We smile into each other’s eyes as I grasp your hand and lead you off the floor, headed for the table where our Masters sit smiling at us. You start to sit down next to your Owner, but I keep your hand in mine and address Them.

“Sirs, I was just wondering if either of You minded if slave dawn and I went to the ladies room?”

Master DeSade laughs and nods toward your Owner. “I figured, little one. I don’t mind in the least, do You?”

Your Owner shakes his head, and laughs. “On one condition,” He says, “I demand a kiss from my little slave girl before-” He winks at Master DeSade, “and after.”

My Master tips a wink back and drags me into His lap, barely giving me time to let go of your hand. I lose sight of you for a moment as my Master pulls me to Him by the collar, sliding his other hand just below the belt line of the back of my pants, pinching the welts He’d left earlier. I squirm and moan as He kisses me, bites my lower lip and whispers sensuously in my ear “Go, slut. Have fun.”

I giggle as I scramble off His lap. “Is that an order Sir?”

He slaps my ass. “Of course!” His smile is gorgeous, as always, and my knees want to liquefy, but you grab my hand before I slide to them and yank me away.

We hold hands through the Balcony and all the way to the bathroom, many eyes following us through the smoke. We say hello to the coat-check girl, then disappear into the bathroom. In the sudden brightness, I see the dance, alcohol and excitement at work on my appearance, but for now I simply don’t care. You are so lovely with the Maltepe Grup Escort pink in your cheeks and a sheen of sweat on your skin. Without a word, you pull me to you, kissing me deep, parting my lips with your tongue and pushing me hard up against the wall. As my back meets the plaster, my hands fly up and start pulling at the buttons on your shirt.

The last button pops free and my hands slide across your chest to one of the rings implanted there, pulling and twisting it lightly at first, then harder. I feel your hands rush to the zipper of my leather pants, the button sliding out, the zipper sliding down, then your fingers were tug that the small thatch of hair there, wandering lower to fondle my clit.

“Ahem.” You hear a sticky-sweet feminine voice behind you and I look up in surprise. I had nearly forgotten we were in a public place. Standing there agog is a very pretty young drag queen. “Now, sweeties, while I appreciate your efforts to entertain the general female populace of this place,” she fluffs her hair, “I do wish you’d move it into a stall.” Then he/she flashes a toothy grin and points at my chest, still buoyed by the leather of the corset. “I must admit though, that I’m jealous of those.”

“Thanks,” I say, still fondling your right nipple in plain view. “I grew them myself.”

“MMMNhmmmn. You go girl!” then the queen is gone in a storm of leopard print velour.

We both laugh, but I start backing you toward the nearest stall, the biggest. Once inside, I turn to lock the door and feel your lips on the skin of my shoulders, your voice brushing my ear. “She was right. They really are very nice. You should let them breathe a little more.” And with that, my corset is gone, and your fingers replace it, tugging hard at the recently-placed rings. You use one to turn me around, pinning me once more, this time against the door. My moans fill the small space and, I’m certain, can be heard in the hallway outside, but I can’t manage to give a damn.

You start sliding the leather off my hips, till the material puddles around my boots. My hands made themselves busy removing your shirt, sliding your skirt down over your sweet hips. Neither of us have a bra or panties on (god forbid!), so we stand, nipple to nipple, lip to lip and hip to hip, grinding against each other. Finally, I fight back, pushing you against the opposite wall and start working my way slowly down your body. I bite, lick, suck, nibble down to your tits, then past them until I squat in front of you, balancing myself with my fingers digging into the recently tenderized flesh of your ass. Your moans multiply as my tongue seeks out the hard bud of your clit, toying with it.

The slap of my hand on your ass raises a loud cry from you that excites me even more and I lightly rake my nails over your welts. My tongue slides deep inside you, but when I realize I can’t reach your g-spot, I drop on my knees, grasp your left leg, throwing it over my shoulder, and removed my right hand from you, sliding it around to slip two fingers deep inside you. My other hand slithers further around, I run my fingers up and down over the crack of your ass, biting lightly into your clit, pulling on the ring with my teeth. One of your hands plunges deep into my hair, and you use the other to try to hold yourself up on my shoulder.

Your moans escalate again and I feel you gyrating against my face and hands, wanting Maltepe Manken Escort more. The inner walls of your cunt caress my fingers, pulling at them, and as I put first one, then two of the fingers from my left hand in your beautiful ass, I feel those walls clench and a flood of cum escapes you. Your knees go weak, but you stay up as I slowly remove my fingers from you and give you a thorough tongue bath. You shiver when the cold metal of the tongue bar hits the hot flesh of your pussy, and your hand clenches over and over again in my hair. Very slowly, I stand up, holding you between my body and the wall, and place a sweet, wet kiss on your lips, as you eagerly lap your own cum from my mouth.

Your hands start roaming my body as you come back to your senses: pulling on my nipple rings, trailing down to lightly slap my ass, moving around front to delve into the dark, wet recesses of my cunt. You push me away slightly then pull me over toward the toilet, sitting down on the seat, helping me the rest of the way out of my pants, and pulling me to you. You position me so that I face you, straddling your lap, my thighs held apart by your own legs. Your hand roams my inner thigh, headed once again for the hot space at the juncture of my legs.

My lips meet yours with a fury, nibbling on your lower lip, pulling your tongue into my mouth. Just as you bite back, you twist my clit ring, making me cry out, my lower lip caught between your teeth. I hear slow dripping and realize it is me; I am so very, very wet, and you did this to me. It barely had time to register before you bury two fingers deep in my pussy, leaning up to whisper to me how much you love how wet I get, applying pressure and more pressure to my g-spot. My legs start shaking convulsively and your thumb hooks through the ring on my clit-hood, wrenching it every time you thrust your fingers. Your other hand slips around my back and your nails rake a trail from my shoulders to the base of my spine.

I feel your hand supporting me, lifting, pulling me a little closer to you, and a sudden pressure at my asshole, a finger slowly sliding inside. I don’t know how you do it, but you are still controlling my clit while taking both holes with one hand. I start cumming hard on your fingers, and through a haze I see the look of surprise on your face.

You fingers keep dancing within me, slowing slightly. I lean toward you and latch my lips to your neck, whispering thank yous into the warm skin. When I lean back, your eyes are huge.

“What?” I say.

“You- damn.”


“You squirted when you came!”

“I did?”

“Yes, you nasty slut! I loved it!”

“I did?”

Your laughter rings in the tiny room. “You’re not very coherent, are you, bethie?”


“Didn’t think so.” You gently move me off your lap, not removing your fingers from inside me until I am standing. I nearly collapse, but grab the railing with one hand and the wall with the other until I regain some equilibrium.

It is a tough struggle getting back into my leathers, between the sweat on my body and the fact that I just didn’t want to. But your hands touching the nail marks on my back as you lace me back into my corset certainly help. We check our makeup, realize we both look freshly fucked, and decide on just a quick coat of lipstick. We waltz out of the bathroom, headed toward the table and our Maltepe Masöz Escort Masters.

They are standing when we arrive, watching our approach with amusement. I release your hand as we reach Them and am hauled into the arms of my Master, a lingering, probing kiss taking some of your flavor from my mouth. He wraps mt coat around my shoulders, whispering in my ear “We heard you in the bathroom, you nasty little bitch. Did she taste sweet?”

“Hell yes, Sir!” His laughter makes me grin. As a group, we move toward the exit. On the way t the elevator, you give me a little signal we’ve worked out and as soon as we step into the little car, we are both on our knees, pulling our Owner’s cocks out of confinement. I hear your moans and feel my Masters hands wrap around my head, thrusting himself deep into my throat. The ride is only three floors, though, and I am disappointed to lose the paste of skin in my mouth. We follow our owners across the parking lot to the car.

The doors do not get unlocked though.

My Master’s arms wrap around my waist and feel His breath at my ear. “Take them off. Just the pants.” His fingers pop the button free before he releases me. I quickly comply, taking the leather all the way off, so I stand there clad only in corset, boots and collar. My Master twists me and slams me into the waist-high concrete retaining wall, my ass exposed to Him.

You are already next to me, in an identical position, your skirt tossed up, your shirt missing. Our gazes settle on the busy street below, and I know that if anyone were to just glance up, they would see us suspended there. My feet are kicked apart, and I hear identical orders from both Masters. We put out hand back in compliance and my arms are bound together wrist to elbow.

His hand comes down hard on my ass. “You didn’t think you could get away with just a blow-job, did you, whore?” Again comes His hand, and my cry resounds off the cars below.

“Of course not, Sir!”

“I didn’t think so, bitch. You know your Master better than that.” Another slap on the ass and I feel His cock slide home in my cunt, one thrust, then He withdraws and plunges it deep into my ass. I bite back a scream and look over at you, so beautiful, dangling there, receiving the same treatment from your Owner.

My head is yanked back by the hair and my body is shuddering under my sweet Master’s assault. I’m grateful for the retaining wall, because otherwise I would certainly not be able to hold my own. I can feel my breasts popping free of the corset and I know that in one or two more thrusts, I will be as bare-chested as you. I flinch as my tits finally fall free and slap the concrete with every thrust. Tears spring to my eyes, but I feel my cum dripping down my thighs, fresh moisture mixed with that from earlier. His cock grows larger in my ass, and I know He is about to cum. My hair is released, my collar grasped and He twists it tightly, cutting off my air. I am going to pass out as I hear His voice, “Are you ready for your Master’s cum, slut?” All I can do is grasp for Him with my bound hands: the gesture is all it takes. The world starts to fade to black, but as He releases in my ass, He also releases the collar, grabbing a handful of hair to tow me back to reality. I’m tipped over the edge anyway, cumming so hard that I momentarily pass out.

When I come to, my hands have been untied and I sit in the backseat of the car. You are next to me, my Master in the seat in front of me, His arm wrapped behind the seat, His hand gently massaging my right calf. You are tenderly tucking my abused breasts back into my corset. We lean toward each other and kiss and snuggle, our Master’s voices a warm murmur in the front seat.

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