Mind Caviar

Eden Lenz  lives in Pennsylvania with her tall, dark, handsome husband and her shorter, darker dog. She is the co-founder of a writing community and has had short fiction published in mainstream journals. Her erotic writing has also been published in Amoret Online.

E-mail Eden Lenz. Visit Ceilidh Lindsay Online to read more work by Eden Lenz.

by Eden Lenz

"Love me?" he asked as I stepped into the foyer.

Goose bumps rose on my bare arms in the suddenness of the air conditioning. I smiled and gripped the back of his neck. Pulling his face to mine, I ran my tongue over his lips in lieu of answering him.

A woman's voice broke our embrace. "Where'd you run off to, Tom?"

"Who's that?" I mumbled against his mouth.

"That'd be Marissa." He nipped my lower lip. "Best not keep her waiting."

I followed Thomas into the living room. A petite brunette lounged on one of the white couches. I vaguely remembered meeting her once and what stuck with me was that I had envied her breasts, hidden behind a baby-white T-shirt. Little perky ones. "Plum titties," as one of my college boyfriends would say.

Thomas introduced us. Only 9 AM and she was already ruining my day.

I said, "We've met," and was very snippy about it. I seethed at the chances I was already taking by the affair with my husband's partner. He's wasting my time, I said to myself. And if this is some ploy to get me to say that I love him, he wasting his own time as well.

He seemed to pick up on my mood change. "Help me with the coffee?" he motioned. "Marissa, why don't you go for a swim?"

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Tommy-Boy," she said. "And we're not having any coffee. How dare you try to close me out of the afternoon? After all, I came here especially to meet this one you've been raving about." To me she added, "I hear you're into it."

"Into what?"

"Don't be coy," she said, walking toward me, a lady panther stalking her prey. "He's told me about you. You do it all." Marissa lifted one thin strap of my camisole top; from my shoulder and slid it down my arm. "He thought you'd be into a little two-on-one action; he thought you might like me, too." She did the same with the other strap; willpower was all that held up my top.

"Marissa ..." Thomas's voice was full of warning.

"He said you'd do anything for him."

Caught in her gaze, I breathed, "Did he?"

Her feline eyes tilted at the comers as she smiled and eased my top to my waist. "I agree, Tommy. She has beautiful breasts," she purred.

"I sometimes wish they were smaller." I felt Thomas watching intently and wondered if he was surprised at my letting her touch me. He couldn't have been surprised at her. I felt he'd chosen her on purpose. Almost as a test.

"I wish mine were bigger," she said. "Nice and round, like yours." She squeezed my breasts. "Ooh, and obviously real too." She leaned down and inhaled my left nipple, pressing her tongue against it firmly.

Thomas was pouring Scotch into three glasses of ice; I could just see him in my peripheral vision. "A little relaxation?"

I was melting into Marissa, regretting my earlier curtness. Neither of us answered him. I leaned against the mantelpiece behind me and stretched out my arm for support, nearly knocking a Waterford vase from its perch.

"If this is going to happen, ladies, let's move the festivities downstairs."

* * *

We regrouped in the finished basement. A pool table stood in the center of the room. A beautiful bar, leather-padded around the edge, lined one wall. The room was decidedly more masculine than the upstairs décor ­ the rooms any visitor could see.

Marissa downed her whiskey right away and slunk off to the pool table. She stripped quickly, except for a garter belt and her black stockings. Then she laid down on her back and began writhing, her legs bent and her heels digging into the corner pockets. "Come here," she said, wriggling a finger at me.

I took a sip of my Scotch and knelt down in front of her. She smelled wonderfully clean and feminine, like expensive French soap. I thought she wanted me to go down on her but that wasn't the plan. I wanted Thomas to watch, to burn with envy. I glided my fingertips over the insides of her thighs as she unsnapped her garters.

Thomas knelt behind me, wrapped his arm around my waist and sucked the curve of my neck. "I want you," he breathed. Something pressed into my belly, harder than the cock he pushed against my ass.

"I want you," I repeated. "I'll do anything."

"Say you love me."

I sighed his name and tilted my head back against his shoulder.

"You want to show me?"

Nodding, I scraped the insides of her thighs, leaving pink trails of raised skin in the wake of my fingernails.

His lips never leaving my skin, he said, "I want to watch you get fucked."

My shoulders fell. I wanted him, not her. I fell asleep every night, with my back against my husband's and my hand between my legs, thinking of Thomas. I didn't know what to say, short of "I love you," so I said nothing.

"Why don't you trade places?" he suggested, pulling away from me and standing.

"Why?" I found my voice.

He smoothed one hand over my cheek. "I told you why. I want to see you." Thomas helped me up on the table, on my knees, facing away from both of them. "Will you let Marissa fuck you for me?" he asked. "You said, ‘anything.' Remember?"

"She'll let me," Marissa said, wrapping the silk stockings around my knees, binding them tight. I kept still and pressed my face into the table. "Hand it over and keep an eye on her."

He put the instrument in her hand: a smooth, slender vibrator that looked to be made of black leather.

"Put your ass high up in the air." Her authority thrilled me and I obeyed, but I consciously did not do my best. "I said high in the air, you little snatch," she scolded, slapping my ass. I did as she asked.

Thomas came into my view, perching himself on a barstool and holding his swollen, purple-tipped cock. I wondered if he was all right. *Why would he have a stranger, a woman, do this "for" him?* I worried the thrill had melted, like the ice in Marissa's empty glass?

"Now keep your eyes open and do not look anywhere but at his face. Do not watch his cock; that's mine." A warm trickle of oil slid down my crack; she rubbed a thicker substance onto my asshole, it was the consistency of petroleum jelly, but I did not detect the scent of it. The oil smelled like citrus, lemon-lime with a hint of orange.

My knees were pressed together but I felt deliciously exposed. She rubbed the dildo against my pussy lips, rolling it in my juices. Without warning she leaned up and placed it against my lips. "Suck off your cum," she demanded.

It was sweet and I could taste drops of the oil.

"Are you ready for a fucking? You may only speak by saying ‘yes' or ‘no.' Is that clear? That even if you say ‘yes,' I continue and if you say ‘no,' I'm going to fuck you even harder. You want it like that, right?"

"Yes." My body trembled with anticipation and she plunged the vibrator into me, turning it up full blast right away. It was delicious and I closed my eyes for that second. "I told you to keep eye contact with him, slut."

She let go of the humming toy and I felt its full weight inside me, pressing against the front wall of my cunt, against my g-spot. With both hands she slapped my ass cheeks simultaneously and dug in her short fingernails.

I strained against my silken restraints to part my legs. Thomas flinched and I watched him start to stroke his cock, slowly and absently. I ached for him to fill me with it. I began to understand what was happening. He wants to see me controlled. Can't he do it himself? Doesn't he realize what power he already holds over me?

Before I could think again, Marissa removed the vibrator and turned it off. My pulse pounded in my ears. "What do you want, little snatch? You want fucked? You want really fucked? Hard and fast or slow and deep, baby? You want it?"

"Yes, yes," I gasped.

"Then I get to do what I want to you. With your legs tied up, you don't have much choice do you?"


"Then I'm going to do what I like. I know this is what you want," she hissed. Marissa teased my asshole with the thin tip of the vibrator. She wriggled it around a bit and then slid it slowly inside. It was pure pleasure. Marissa knew what she was doing. "You've been ass-fucked before, haven't you, you cunt?"

She began to pull out the thin vibe but instead plunged it in more deeply, twisting it in the same repetitive motion.

"You've had a cock in your ass haven't you? You liked it. You want it again. You want his cock shoved," she thrust the vibrator down to its base inside me, "up your ass while I eat your cunt."

Marissa held the vibe still so I responded, "No."


Thomas's face was hazy. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy. "No. No," I said, trying to get the pleading, eager tone out of my voice.

My plan worked. She grabbed its end with both hands and pumped it furiously up and down, sometimes twisting it or rolling it between her palms. I could feel the orgasm beginning in my feet and knew it would be explosive.

The juices and oils collected around my clit and I strained my ass higher in the air. All the while Marissa kept up her dialogue. "No? You don't want that big cock up your ass? He'd fill you up till your cunt ached. He'd get you to spread your legs wide, bitch. I'd get underneath you and tease your little clit and suck his balls while he fucked you. If you were very lucky, I might stick my finger up your cunt too. Maybe two fingers. You don't want that?"

"No," I managed to moan. Marissa started to moan herself and while she plunged the vibe in and out of my ass, she started to rock back and forth. Just when I was about to come, she removed it. Thomas's face became clearer and I saw that he had come. I wondered if that meant I was out of an orgasm when I felt Marissa untie the stocking. She seemed as breathless as I was. I wished he would take over the game and send her home.

"On your back," she purred. I rolled over; the felt of the pool table was rough against my bare skin, except for where my ass was on the cool, smooth mahogany edge. "Spread."

I opened my legs, entwining my forearms around my calves, grabbing my ankles and pulling them as close to my ears as I could for her. She twisted the vibe up into my ass, all the way up. "You don't want this, do you?"

"No," I whispered, looking straight into her cat-like eyes. With a quick motion she turned the vibe on and up to its highest setting. Then she placed her tongue fully and flatly against my clit and lapped at it. I tried to keep repeating, "no, no," so she would be rougher, but "yes, yes" was coming from my mouth.

"Yes?" she paused to say. I could say nothing, only moan as she pressed her thumb against my clit. She let go of the vibe, as she had done before, and I felt its fullness. "Spread more."

I let go of my ankles and put my elbows against the backs of my knees, pressing them down into the pool table.

"Did you say ‘yes' to me you little slit?"

I gathered my senses together enough to think of a way to test her and said, "You'd better fuck me, whore."

Without saying a word, she got up and went behind Thomas to the bar. I mouthed "I want you" to my lover.

A smile slid across his lips. His eyes grabbed mine and refused to let go.

"Please." I added.

In reply, he took another sip of his drink and whispered, "Say you love me."

I turned my head and inhaled the sex in the close, heavy air.

When she returned, she held a large double dildo and said, "Take that thing out of your ass and move back on the table. I'll teach you to talk to me that way."

I did as she said, stopped once again at the verge of orgasm. Who is she that she controls my pleasure? His pleasure? Some cruel sexual puppet master? But Thomas wants this from me. I want this from her. I'll show him how little I need his dick.

She climbed upon the table and stood above my hips. "Show me that hot cunt again." I obeyed her and resumed my position as she squatted above me, our pussies almost touching. With this, she leaned back, supporting herself with her hands on the mahogany. She was dripping wet.

The dildo slid easily between her hairless lips, deep inside her, up to the middle. The cocks were pink and the balls in the center were redder. She twisted and thrust it in and out of her cunt. Then suddenly she knelt over me, as she had before, steadied herself on the table and grabbed the dildo with her free hand. She moved so that we were perpendicular, her left heel against my right hip and bearing her weight on her right leg.

"Get ready," she growled, looking deeply at me. With that, she forced the giant dildo straight down into my cunt and started sliding up and down, her tiny breasts thumping with every beat.

We both moaned loudly when she thrust my end all the way inside me. Her pussy smashed into mine and we started to writhe against each other, our clits only occasionally touching. When they did, I imagined tiny electric sparks shooting from them.

I could feel her muscles twitching and the thought was more than I could bear. I came hard, bucking and scratching at the felt, moaning for my observant lover.

Without my realizing it, she withdrew the dildo from my cunt and her own and by the time I realized where I was again, I felt her mouth on my clit. I kept coming: small delicious fluttering orgasms.

I opened my eyes to look at her and saw Thomas, pounding her from behind as she leaned over the pool table eating me. He had one arm wrapped around her slender waist and I could not see what his other hand was doing. "Tell me what he's doing to you," I said, grabbing her hair and pulling her mouth from my cunt.

She spoke with intermittent gasps and moans, "He's fucking me... fucking my ass, feels so good... has his fingers up my cunt ... just two, ohhh," she moaned, "oh fuck, he's got three, fuck," she bit her lip and tried to put her head down but I yanked her hair again.

"How many now?" I demanded, mimicking her dominatrix tone. She said nothing but let out a squealing moan and threw one leg up on the table. She mumbled something and I said, "I can't hear you, whore, Yell it. Shout out what he's doing to you."

Thomas's body was still but his arm moved furiously. She wriggled in his embrace.

"Where is his cock?" I shouted.

She mumbled again, so I repeated myself, adding that she'd better yell.

"My ass," she moaned, saying it over and over until she was finally following my demand that she yell. "His cock is in my ass, all the way in my ass."

Thomas had stopped thrusting into her. By the muscles moving in his shoulder and arm, I knew he was up to something. "What is he doing to your pussy now?"

She grinded her hips into him and said clearly, "He has all his fingers in me. He's... oh... he's sliding his hand up... fuck... up inside me," she narrated, squealing a little on the word "inside."

She bit her lip and kept her eyes closed. I was ready to demand that she keep talking, but she went on without my instructions.

"He's made his hand into a fist. He's rolling it around against my cunt. Beautiful," she moaned into her arm, "feels so beautiful."

I saw Thomas start to move his arm faster, that he was twisting his wrist with every thrust inside Marissa's wetness.

"He's fucking me with his fist," she said, louder than she had been. Like she wanted to hear it and knew that I didn't. "Harder. Harder, you fucker."

He pumped her for a few more seconds and abruptly withdrew his hand. She opened her eyes and looked hazily at me before saying, "Oh! Oh, oh, oh yes. He's in my ass again. Feels so good. Filling me up. Yes. He's pressing his hand against my clit. He won't let me come yet. I have to come. Let me eat your pussy; let me eat you."

With a quick, catlike motion, she wrapped her arms around my upper thighs and pulled my cunt to her mouth. I sat up, spreading for her as much as I could and grabbing the back of her head. Her tongue was furious, plunging deep inside me, lapping at my clit. She sucked and licked me like a starving woman.

"She's going to come," Thomas said to me. I laced my fingers around her head and pressed her hard into me. She screamed into my pussy and bucked against his increasing thrusts. As her wails subsided into moans, Thomas's eyes were fixed steadfastly on mine.

I loosened my grip on Marissa, who kept licking at me, although with less enthusiasm than before. I hated her for coming. For having the orgasm I was denied at my lover's hands.

"Tell me you want me," he said, driving his gaze deep inside me. "Tell me you love me."

"Mmm, yes, mmm," she said, coming up for air, wearing an expression of absolute bliss.

Thomas continued to insist, "Tell me you want me, you love me. Say it, say it." He lost himself in his voice as he closed his eyes, breaking the spell, and came.

"Ooh, yeah." she moaned as he finally withdrew.

I got off the table and Marissa took my place, curling up like a shrimp and falling into an immediate, sound sleep.

"You didn't say it," he reached for my hair.

"That's right. I didn't."

"You're a strong one." His eyes narrowed with a repressed, amused light. "I'm washing up. Be right back."

She was never the one in control, I said to myself as I poured myself another Scotch. He was. The puppet master. She was his mouthpiece. His eyes held me tighter than any restraints could have. He fucked me through her. Still, I didn't get what I came here for. What I'm risking everything for. His hands. His kisses. His cock. His release. The soothing of my desire. I pushed myself onto the barstool Thomas had used as a crow's nest. Maybe I do love him. But I'll never confess it. I'm not ready for that level of control.

Taking a sip, I stared at Marissa and envied the contended rises and falls of her breasts. 

Copyright © 2001 Eden Lenz. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.

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