Rituals

...and I closed my eyes to it at the last second, coward that I am.

I didn't open them again until I heard the door close. And when I did...

Oh my!

Two 'entertainers,' a salt and pepper team, stood on either side of the door with crossed arms; dressed as medieval friars, their long robes extended to their calves, and were tied in front with a sash. Their hoods were drawn to the red, pervasive light, so darkness obscured their faces. But, I could feel their eyes peering at me from behind the shadows, peeling me open like a ripe fruit. More importantly, I could tell from their breathing they liked what they saw.

Their hoods shifted a bit to my left and tipped downward. They were drawn to my ring finger.

I had removed all my jewelry, save my wedding ring. It was a very expensive bauble, too. I wanted them to know for certain that I was 'kept' by another; that I was a 'trophy whore.' I wanted them to know another man paid me dearly to live with him and bear his children, but I was here to do whateverthey wanted, for free.

Except for our breathing, the room remained quiet as a church in those first few moments.

The good Church of the Wanton Trophy Whore, let's all sing a hymn while I give an offering.

They were teasers, these two, sliding up and standing just out of arm's reach, where I needed to bend well forward to undo their sashes.

Once undone, they stepped closer to me, allowing their robes to slip off their shoulders and onto the floor.

They were magnificent looking. Standing naked as they were in front of me, I had to sit back and take pause for a moment. Catch my breath and savor this visual like a fine wine.

My 'entertainers' were about the same height and weight—'Salt' a little taller, 'Pepper' a little more muscular—and both having the classic, v-shaped upper torso of well-toned athletes. Hairless as young boys, save for a thick, well-groomed, pubic bush just above their meat.

Their stomachs were flat and taut—taut like bowstrings with arrows ready to let loose—and smooth, without the bulging abs one sees on bodybuilders. I never cared for washboard stomachs on men, it always hinted at the narcissist, one who spends way too much quality time alone in the gym. Nevertheless, I could tell neither spent a lot of their off time on the couch, once all the 'little' girls were pleasured.

Their powerful legs—good for pushing long, thick, useful tools into sweet, wet places—were sculptured and proportioned like those of swimmers, instead of having the overdeveloped, bulging thigh and calf muscles of bodybuilders.

And, to that feature which I requested specifically? Let's just say I'll kiss my new 'BFF sourpuss' in thanks when I leave. Iwould remember them long after they were through with me. Put simply, they were perfect. Perfectly proportioned and perfectly paired as they hung down heavy and low, and even though flaccid for the moment, you just knew very few men in the world possessed similarly majestic endowments. Except for their color, there was little difference between the two. Yes, they were almost identical twins.

Oh how delicious it would be to blindfold myself and spend as much time with fingers, lips, tongue and pussy, determining if any true difference exists between them.

They were both so calm and patient with me, standing still and peaceful, allowing me the time to drink them all in without a hint of urgency. They stayed still as statues even as I drew teasing fingers slowly down their shafts, cupping their heavy, hairless balls, or playfully pinching their bulbous cockheads.

The feel of their skin was intoxicatingly silky, smooth and dry. If a girl were careful with the sweat and spit, one's fingers could easily glide across the shaft and head, imparting the greatest degree of pleasure with the least amount of effort.

Salt and Pepper go 'pop,' right into my pretty face.

I continued to run slow, gentle fingers across their members as I looked up. They wore non-descript, nylon masks—smallish holes for the eyes, nose and mouth only. Yet, I saw a glint of their eyes from behind the masks; one set a deep blue, the other a warm, honey brown.

I lingered for a moment more before digging into my treats, thinking how lucky I am to have a new ritual. It's not every day one finds herself on her proverbial knees and willingly subservient to perfection, and I was doubly blessed with two. I wonder if any of the silly twats downstairs know how lucky they are. That soon, they too will come face to face with the exceptionally rare and the oh, so sublime, the type of thing that can change the destiny of lives if you allow it— surrender to it, willingly.

Probably not, youth is always too full of itself to notice the importance of luck, or the confluence of coincidence in shaping one's destiny, arrogantly thinking it's all done by design, alone. No my young 'ladies in wait,' you can plan, and plan, and plan, to become that high-powered lawyer, or doctor, or whatever professional you wish to be, but then you wake up one day and find you're nothing more than a trophy wife, another victim of the confluence of coincidence.

Luck—bad or good—always has a way of fucking with our lives and changing our plans—for good or for bad. The good was with me that day in the coffee shop...

Lucky me, sitting at a lucky table right next to a lucky 'survivor' of ladies' night.

...and by the looks of things, the good was with me tonight, as well.

I was undecided on whom to start on first, when a honey-brown glint was briefly extinguished. An involuntary wink of the eye to match his subtle cock twitch against my fingertips—Pepper it is.

Shifting so that I could face him more directly, I opened my mouth wide while clamping two firm hands on his hard, muscular bottom. He lifted his cock for me, giving me a direct line of approach. I continued looking up into those honey-browns, soft and sanguine, all while sliding him inside.

He folded up nicely in my mouth—my own personal, obscene accordion. I knew I couldn't contain him like this for long, but for now, I held my nose against his stomach with him folded inside me, waiting and feeling for the inevitable swelling. The scent of his body wash—ginger and Jamaican allspice—was near intoxicating. My head began to spin.

I teased him a bit, nuzzling my nose against that taut stomach, causing that obscene accordion to shift lustily against my tongue. He stiffened slowly, swelling precipitously, inch by—oh my fucking god, how fucking long and thick is it?—exquisitely, erotic inch.

As the inches grew, I withdrew, leaving a nice, slick trail of spit in my wake. Perfect, for a gently stroking hand as I cupped his balls with the other. I almost gasped at their heft and size, feeling the weight of his sack as it rested in my hand. I guessed they were the size of ripe apricots.

Briefly dipping his cock as far as I could in my mouth to replenish saliva for my stroking hand, I brashly slid a moistened finger between the tight cleft of his ass. He unclenched his cheeks, allowing me to press a fingertip to his tight ring. I never entered him there, just gently massaged his anus with a wetted finger. The only act of approval, other than allowing my finger to stay, was a sharp intake of air and seeing his cock stiffen to its full extent—that was enough.

Clamping my lips firmly around his tool—or as tightly as I could given his girth—I bobbed my head slowly, sucking harder, and tightening my lips firmer, each time I withdrew. After which, I would relax my mouth while adding a devilish tongue when I pulled him back into me. I didn't bother stroking him with a hand anymore, as my mouth seemed to make him happy on its own. Instead, I kept a tentative, teasing set of fingers pulling gently down and squeezing his sack, and another, singular, bold digit pressed firmly to his tightened ring.

Salt stared down at me servicing his friend. I felt bad that I was neglecting him at the moment, and I'm sure he was chomping at the bit for a little attention, though he never showed any frustration—sweetheart that he must be. To show my thanks, I turned my baby blues up and gazed into his eyes as I sucked on Pepper's cock. I gave my patient watcher an innocent, longing look, more pin-up Bettie Page than porn star—well, Bettie Page with ten inches stuffed in her mouth, but Betty Paige nonetheless—saying to him with those innocent, pining eyes, 'I have to service Pepper now, but it's your cock I really want to taste.' Salt appreciated my gesture, as I noticed his beautiful cock, twin to Pepper's, beginning to rise up to greet me.

My sucking was having a marvelous effect. Pepper's sack crumpled up close to his body and away from my soft palm, forming a tight, wrinkled sheath around those wonderful, apricot balls. I had to let go they were so tight against him, but I continued to run a moist finger over that wrinkled sack, making it tighten further. Oh, he was so close.

I kept my head bob slow and steady, because he liked it that way—lips loose around it, forward, tightened lips around it, backward, and don't forget the tongue flick on that fat head, bitch.

Just when I tasted his salty pre-cum, he gently pushed me off him with a hand. His cock stood out in full view, dark and hard like a plank of mahogany; shiny slick and quivering from my oral attentions. It was so beautiful. My cunt ached and dripped profusely, yearning, as was my heart, to have it stuffed back into my slutty mouth.

Oh, put it back in, Sir! Don't torment me this way.

I couldn't take seeing it quiver in front of my face any longer without doing something. I lunged at it, mouth wide and at the ready.

He stopped me with a hand while pinching his cockhead. The large, bulbous gland deflated in an instant, along with my heart. I was so close to having him, and more than anything, I wanted to taste his forceful release bathing the back of my throat.

I struck back at him for denying me that pleasure, one of the few acts of insolence I would display this evening, I smiled. It wasn't just an ordinary smile, though, it was a womanly smirk. The kind of wry smile we ladies give men when we know we've bested them.

He didn't hesitate to correct me, slapping me across the cheek for that smirk. Not too hard, but hard enough for me to notice and avoid doing it again. I sat stunned at his rough treatment, trying to decide whether I was going to come or cry. I was leaning toward the former when I heard Salt grunt loudly.

Salt, my dear Salt, forgive my neglect.

He stepped closer to me as I swung around to meet him. His cock was semi-erect, so I couldn't stuff him fully into my mouth as I had done Pepper—'whimper.' Following the same ritual, though, I licked and sucked on him a bit, laying down a generous supply of spit before stroking him to full hardness. Of course, I also used those teasing fingers on his heavy, apricot balls—they should provide a most scrumptious jam for tea and toast, later.

I tried to sneak that same bold finger between his buttocks, but he clenched his cheeks to my advances—must be shy.

That's okay Salt, your cock and apricot balls are good enough for now.

Pepper was back for more, poking my cheek playfully with the tip of his cock as I serviced Salt.

Griping them both at the base of their cocks, I proceeded to suck voraciously on each in turn. Back and forth between them I threw my mouth, sucking each as far in as I could while bobbing my head lustily without losing the rhythm I had formed.

I ignited something in them, something more primal than what they've displayed so far.

They stood, side-by-side, as both clamped a hand to my head, immobilizing it. Then each took turns thrusting their cocks into my face. It didn't matter to them where they landed, into my mouth, across my mouth, up my cheek, alongside my nose, they even raked their stiff members across my closed eyes. They rubbed and smeared me over and over as if fucking my whole face.

When they slowed their teasing thrusts, I gathered their cocks in my hands, and brought them together almost as one. While pressing their large, slick cocks together, head to head, shaft to shaft, and apricot balls snug tight together, and both held tightly between my palms, they began sliding themselves against each other as I sucked on whichever cock extended up and into my hovering mouth. I tasted the salty pre-cum, again—salty from Salt or salty Pepper, I couldn't tell—I only wondered if they would allow me this moment, and let themselves completely go. I needed to taste them fully.

It was not to be. Both pulled away from me at the same time, pinching their cockheads and momentarily pushing back their arousal. I realized then, I was in the hands of true artists of control—control over themselves as much as control over me. They knew how much lead to give me, how long I needed to run on my own before snapping the proverbial leash, bringing me to heel and back under their rein.

The leash tightened again as mySeasonings' sex play became a bit rougher.

Salt, grabbing me by the hair, fell back onto the bed, pulling me along with him. While propping his shoulders up on a pillow, he pulled my face fully into his groin.

The ginger and allspice scent was gone, as my nostrils were filled with his rank, 'manly odor'—the strong musky scent of sweaty balls and pre-cum.

I think my pussy just squirted in ecstasy.

As I attended to Salt's dank, apricot balls, I felt Pepper grab my hips. He didn't need to reposition me, which was his intent. I was already providing him an invitation by squaring myself to him, arching my back and pushing my reckless bottom as far up and as far out as I could. Done, I might add, without losing touch with Salt or his luscious balls.

I'm so talented, especially when I have a true talent within my grasp, or between my lips.

Pepper accepted my invitation—was there any doubt?—by pulling my cheeks apart with his powerful hands, just as one might split a peach. He paused briefly, I guess to admire the view or to tease me with anticipation, before branding my tight, perky asshole with his muscular tongue.

Taking hold at the base of Salt's cock, I clamped my mouth down and around the top of his scrotum. Licking and stroking those apricot balls with tight lips and a quick tongue, I nuzzled the underside of his shaft devilishly with my nose, causing his member to jump and shift about. A few times, his cock inadvertently struck me in the face for my troubles, and I almost giggled at his punishing penis, slapping the wanton trophy whore in the face for her misbehavior. Salt approved of my playful nose, showing me his favor by lewdly pushing and rubbing that hot cock against it whenever he could.

Strong and muscular though it was, Pepper's tongue exhibited surprising deftness and agility as it rapidly flicked across my asshole. Waves and tingles branched away from my perky 'winky' at each agile flick, enveloping my whole groin in sweet euphoria.

I emulated Pepper's flicks with some of my own, as I crawled a darting, playful tongue all around Salt's cock and balls, extending the dance all the way up to his cockhead.

Pepper began exploring me fully, shifting his tongue hither and yon across and down my whole groin, tickling my perineum, lapping at my puss until my arousal beaded on my pubes and trickled down my thighs.

Don't tarry too long at my puss puss, love. Too much wicked flicking for too long and you'll set my pussy off too soon—naughty, naughty man!

He must have guessed my mind, for he shot back up to play with the 'perky one' between my rosy globes, again. When he started digging that muscular tongue deep into my ass, opening me up to heaven and earth and all their glory—can I get anamen in the good Church of the Wanton Trophy Whore, my friends?—I knew he was downright prescient.

I felt his teeth nipping at my tight ring, making me clamp my spry sphincter around his tongue, all while sending sweet shocks of ecstasy deep into my ass. Even though I couldn't help from tightening myself, he continued to plow, push, and twist that wicked muscle deeper, opening me up further.

Plow me deep my wicked, twisting tongue. Plow me 'til I squeal for joy. Amen!

With my ass filled with tongue, I filled my mouth with cock, sliding Salt further and further in, emulating Pepper's advances into my backside with Salt's cock into my 'front side.'

I couldn't slide him too far down my throat—oh the aching disappointment—he wasn't bendy enough for that, but I held him in as far as I could and tightened my lips around him.

His cock twitched and trashed to the sensations imparted by my tongue. I thought it'd leap out of my mouth and start slapping me, it jerked and twitched so strongly—my playful, punishment penis imparting much joy.

I held that twitching cock steady with a hand, while sucking and stroking simultaneously. The jerking and twitching had stopped, but I felt him swell fuller in my mouth—god, how could he possibly get bigger?

When I tasted pre-cum, Salt pushed me off him while pinching down his cockhead.

Damn these two, they're driving me insane with the leash!

He gave me a little love slap as Pepper had done, although I hadn't given Salt 'the look.' He further punished me by repeatedly striking my cheeks with his cock—you may laugh, but it fucking hurts!

Pepper replaced his tongue with a couple of freshly lubed fingers, then three. Finally four were inserted as he continued to work the gel all around and inside my asshole—oh my, this was starting to get really fun, now.

Salt was finishing up with his slapping. He stood out hard and full, his cockhead even fuller, much more than before. Shifting himself so that he sat upright on his heels, he pressed his hand firmly into my back forcing my chin and throat flush to the mattress. He touched the tip of his cock to my lips—open sesame, trophy whore!

Yes Sir, as wide as I can!

He slowly advanced himself in, pushing cheeks, tongue, and anything else in his way, out of his way.

Oh god, I hope it fits!

At the same moment, I felt Pepper's well-greased cock advancing into my backside.

Oh god, please make that fit!

This is what paradise must feel like, but paradise can be a cruel bitch sometimes, giving us just a glimpse of her without allowing us to experience her completely. I was afraid that would be the case for me.

I was so tight, front and back. They needed to take their time, which they did, advancing and retreating to the repeated clench-inducing pain in my behind, and the choking, gagging discomfort in my throat. It was slow going, and the discomfort and pain were getting almost too much to bear. I truly thought paradise would be denied me, and began whimpering because of it. Salt and Pepper backed away quickly, misunderstanding my cries as pain, rather than as frustration that paradise was being such a cruel bitch to me.

Reaching front and back, I touched both on the hip as a signal they need not back away, but that they should proceed forward. Closing my eyes, I made my mind a blank and relaxed, and for a moment I almost felt like I was standing outside myself.

Again, Pepper and Salt pushed in slowly and just as they got to the point that was causing me the most trouble I felt everything release, like the parting clouds that allow cleansing sunshine to inundate a dreary land, my tense muscles finally relaxed, allowing them to slide fully inside me.

Salt pushed in until I could feel his curly bush tickle my nose, just as I could feel Pepper's thighs tight against mine. With both cocks seated deep inside me, we stayed still as statues, frozen in time. Their large, gentle hands holding me with fingers pressed deep into my flesh, their massive rods fully contained by me, filling me to overflowing, all unmoving—all was bliss, and for the first time ever I felt truly free, locked between the two. Free from worry, free from doubt, I knew what I was, I knew what I wanted to be, a tool to be used for paradise, a plaything for perfection.