Thursday, 6 PM sharp. My sleek Geneva penthouse hums with anticipation. You arrive twenty minutes late, VĂ©ronique. Impermeable coat hides the slutty maid outfit I ordered: black mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, high heels, white blouse. No panties. Lace apron completes the look. Heart pounds as I open the door. ‘Punishment later,’ I growl.
Coat drops. Perfect little bourgeois maid. ‘Bend over.’ Bare ass cheeks glow. I smack them hard, ten times. Skin reddens, heat rises. Pulse races. I kneel, spread you, tongue your pussy deep. Juices flood my mouth, salty-sweet. Cock throbs, but I hold back. Slide in geisha balls, vibrating ones. Remote in my pocket. You stand, legs shaky. Walk. I hit the button. Sharp cry escapes your lips. ‘I won’t hold back,’ you gasp. I smirk.
The Fever
Doorbell at 7. You open, lead my three finance buddies—RĂ©my, Bernard, Paolo—to the salon. Swiss bankers, discretion etched in our veins. Eyes devour your swaying hips. ‘VĂ©ronique, serve aperitifs.’ You bend low, ass flashing, pouring champagne. Cheeks flush pink. I buzz the vibe. Spill. ‘Kneel. Lick it up. Unbutton blouse first.’ Hesitation flickers, then obedience. Tits peek, nipples hard.
‘Dance for us.’ Bob Marley pulses. Buzz on constant. Hips grind, hands caress breasts through blouse. Nips poke fabric. End of song, I finger your sopping cunt. ‘Dripping.’ Make them check too. Four hands probe your wetness. Yours pulses, clenching.
Striptease on Hendrix blues. Apron falls. Blouse unbuttons slow, pear-shaped tits freed, nipples peaked. Skirt slides down toned legs, smooth shaved pussy glistening. Buzz hits. Body shakes, fingers dive into slick folds shamelessly.
Naked on dining table. Food buffet on your skin. Foie gras at pussy edge, salmon on belly, horseradish cream on nipples. Cold cuts, mayo smeared. Hollandaise fills your cunt. Asparagus on thighs. We admire the erotic canvas. No photos—discretion rules.
Fingers dig in. Paolo laps salmon from tits. Bernard teases clit with asparagus, dips in your saucy hole. RĂ©my rolls ham over skin. You moan, writhe. ‘Stay still. Cum only from us.’ Hands everywhere. Pinch tits, finger pussy, buzz vibes. Orgasms rip through you, body arches, juices squirt. We lick clean, champagne chaser. Tongue every inch but your pussy—mine.
The Blaze
Doorbell. ‘Answer naked.’ You stumble, peek out. Three stunners enter: blonde, ebony African, bronzed Latina. Big tits bounce. Pals cheer, cocks straining.
The Blaze
‘You’ve earned it, boys. Fuck them wild.’ I pull you to the shower. Hot water cascades. Lips crash soft, tongues dance tender. Hearts sync, slowing from frenzy. My cock slides into your spent pussy, gentle thrusts. No rush. Just us. Skin slick, breaths mingle. Cum deep inside, holding tight. World fades.
The Cendres
Steam clears. Bodies glow, marked by night. Your eyes shine, spent bliss. We dry slow, fingers trace fading red handprints. Collapse in bed, limbs tangled. Pulse steady now. Danger sated, bond deeper. Secret locked in Geneva vaults. Unforgettable burn.