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The Contract

The woman nestled deeper into me as I rubbed her arm, her attention rapt on the figure standing across from us. Her head rested in the crook of my neck, fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest. I nodded at my girlfriend with a smile.

"I know it sounds intimidating," she continued, her voice sympathetic, "making love to my Sir with me watching. But I want you to know that tonight, I am only here to service your needs. Please think of me as your concierge."

"Yes, thank you." the woman responded meekly, a hint of nervous laughter in her voice. It was her first time with us. Fully nude, the scarlet flush of arousal evident on her bosom, she was still finding her comfort in this scene. I slid my hands down her torso and gave her ass an encouraging squeeze.

My girlfriend shifted her eyes to me, inquisitive. She stood at the foot of our bed, legs apart, arms folded behind her back. She looked taller. I had her wear black fuck-me heels and a garter belt to match. A collar on her neck with my name etched on it completed the uniform. I gestured for her to proceed. She shifted her eyes back to my lover.

"As you know, the contract we signed details the extent of my - hospitality." She leaned over and picked up a clipboard. "We went over this before this scene. You may command me to get you things like water, towels, and snacks." Her finger started to trace down the contract as she enumerated her duties. "You may tell me to give you a massage, a cuddle, or to touch you in any way you desire." She looked up to make sure the woman understood. Satisfied, she resumed:

"You may verbally abuse me as you see fit, within the limits we had discussed. You may call me Sir's whore, slut, bitch, or cunt. You may humiliate me: my inability to satisfy Sir's needs, your superior skill with servicing Sir's cock, the chemistry that you have with Sir that I lack."

"However," my girlfriend paused.

"However." the woman chimed in, looking at me and then at her, hair tickling my chin, taking the silence as her cue. "However, I shouldn't talk about your looks and your job, and um -", she tried to recollect the terms of our contract.

"- and of what happens tonight as infidelity." My girlfriend finished for my lover, flashing her a smile of acknowledgment. I felt her nod against my chest.

"Thank you." My girlfriend continued, "Furthermore: you may command me to reposition myself. You may tell me to stand, kneel, spread my legs. You may tell me to get up close and watch as your pussy bounces on Sir's glistening, hard cock. You may tell me to express my desire to be in your place: that, for example, I wish I were getting reamed and screaming for Sir to fill my juicy pussy. Or that Sir would let me slurp on his delicious cock. Or that Sir would bend me over the bed and finger my cunt. I hope that was illustrative." She ended in the same professional tone.

Good girl, she knew how to set the mood. I smirked.

"... yes, it was." The woman breathed out, very clearly aroused.

"Very well." My girlfriend's eyes moved down to the next items on the document. "Physical contact. You may kiss me, fondle my breasts, and spank my buttocks with your hands. You may pull my hair and grab my neck. You may not, however, slap me or spit on me."

"You may play with my pussy. You may tease me by fingering it, slapping it, or licking it. You may also choose not to, and instead," she turned around and bent over, "play with this."

It was a vision. Legs spread wide, the slender curve of her back arched behind her ass, painted nails digging into buttocks, spreading her cheeks wide open for us to see. The sparkle of the toys buried in her flesh framed appetizingly by the lace of her lingerie.

"Sir has plugged my pussy and my ass, as you can tell." She continued, facing away from us, her voice a little strained. "The plugs are remote-controlled vibrators, and - " She straightened up and faced us again. "- on the bed stand next to you is the control. You may choose to reward or punish me for my service as you see fit."

"Oh, I will!" The woman purred. My girlfriend's talk was surgically chipping away at her inhibitions. I could tell by the relaxation of her body as it sunk deeper against me. By the movement of her caressing fingers as they dropped from my chest down to the bulge of my cock. By the occasional rubbing of her thighs as she sought some relief for her arousal. I was straining to begin too.

"Before I proceed, I will reiterate an important condition for this evening." My girlfriend paused until she was sure the woman's attention was back on her words. "My Sir's cum is mine." She stated, a little sterner. "It is mine. If Sir cums on your body, you will allow me to lick it off. If Sir cums in your mouth, you will allow me to take it from your lips. If Sir cums in your pussy, you will allow me to slurp it clean." She paused until the woman acknowledged with a nod. "You may also request Sir to deposit his seed on my person directly. Sir or you may choose which of my holes receives his cum."

My girlfriend flashed another radiant smile, and continued with more levity. "On sexual service, you may command me to service Sir's cock with you. You may choose which hole I may unplug to service him. You may tell me to go fast or slow or to switch between my holes. You may force me to gag on his cock or to let him ram it hard and deep in my ass or pussy. You may also finger me in either hole and make me lick it off your hands. Along with Sir's cock, if you desire, you may tell me to service your pussy. You may -"

"Service my pussy?" The woman interjected. "Really?" It was a question, but also not. I could tell by the hint of showmanship in the drawn out, exaggerated tone.

"Yes, it will be my pleasure!" my girlfriend smiled knowingly, almost smirked. The same showmanship. Finally! "As I was saying, you may - yes?"

The woman had held up a finger in a silencing gesture. My girlfriend held her tongue in turn, patient. The woman shifted against me, turning away from me so her back rested in the nook of my arm. Slowly she spread her legs until one hung over the side of the bed. My other hand, of its own volition, reached down and pulled on her other thigh, dragging it over my crotch. In small motions, my fingers began caressing her soft flesh. The silence was electric.

Slowly, tortuously, like the hand of a clock, the woman's upturned finger turned about her wrist until it was pointing straight down at her body. The lacquered fingernail glistened in the lamplight.

I held my breath. My girlfriend held hers. We waited.

"Lick, bitch."