Nutella “So who is going to come back here and lick me clean?” I was only supposed to be going out to a quiet dinner. That was my plan. I was going to have a long day – movies, an appointment, drinking with friends, I thought a nice quiet meal with the lovely ‘L’ would be exactly what I needed to cap off the night before tottering my way home for a well deserved sleep-in. That was the plan. Just dinner with a friend. I’d met ‘L’ nearly a month before at a munch in the city. She was extremely easy on the eyes, just a dash flirtatious and it didn’t take long chatting with her before I got the urge to see a lot more of her. We got in contact afterwards, chatting on Fetlife - touching base and making small talk. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. We ended up running into each other again at the Provocation Slave Auction a few nights later and spent several lovely hours enjoying each others company. A few of us pooled our money together and we ended up bidding on a few slaves for the evening. I was even lucky enough to get a taste of her before the night came to a close. I won’t lie, it was the highlight for me. ‘H’ is exposed in the backseat. When the hell did that happen? We’re in the middle of St. Kilda, on the way to dropping ‘H’ off home. She is naked and doing it well, proudly exposing all the sweet curves she has to offer. She has an open jar of nutella in one hand, the other is tracing lazy chocolate circles across pert nipples that are just aching for attention. She’s the sort of girl who just plain looks better naked. I get the impression that she’s more confident when she doesn’t have to hide herself behind clothes. They say if you’ve got it, flaunt it. She does and she did. My mouth drops open in stunned silence and I watch as ‘L’ gets to her before I have a chance to react. The lights go out and the engine trickles to silence. We’re parked in a tight alley somewhere and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Nerves and excitement wracking my body, adrenaline already beginning to flood. I long to join in, but ‘L’ hasn’t given me permission to and I know without needing to be told that tonight we both belong to her. I’m left watching as one gorgeous woman begins to lovingly lick her new sex-toy clean. The night started coming off the rails fairly early. The best laid plans of mice and men. ‘L’ finished work at 6 and was heading off to get her nails done, a great start to a pampered evening. I was supposed to meet her at the nail salon and we’d move off together from there, going to a nice little local place for some fresh gyoza and salmon tataki. I had just stepped out of the Alchemist’s Refuge when my phone buzzed. It was ‘H’. She was in the city for an evening social. Apparently the night was turning sour and she was looking for an out. Now it’s important to know that, generally speaking, I am won’t leave a friend hanging. I’d only met ‘H’ the week before at another munch but we’d gotten along well enough to warrant exchanging numbers. She needed an escape and I was available to help. I didn’t think twice. I shot ‘L’ a message asking if she minded having a third for dinner. She was the one who would be put out, after all. I’d arranged this because I wanted to treat her to a special night. I was nervous that she’d get the wrong impression by this, but helping a friend was always the right thing to do. After a small delay she gave me the all clear and I was off to a popular city restaurant to save ‘H’ from a dull night. God-fucking-damn, ‘H’ tastes so good. I can smell her arousal as my hands stroke and grind across her flesh. My tongue is working aggressively across her dripping sex as my fingers tease and stroke her supple insides, pussy gripping tightly as I gentle pull out and plunge again. ‘L’ is digging her teeth into the flesh of her new toy’s breast, getting every hint of Nutella off of this juicy skin. My muscles are aching with restraint and I am drunk with arousal. The smell of sex is heavy in the air, a heady musk that echoes the flavours I am lapping up from between ‘H’s thighs. I feel like I’m straining at the bit, trying to rip myself free and run wild. The three of us are getting sweaty, parked in a back alley at 3 in the morning. Nobody fits anywhere, legs are getting twined and bodies are grinding. Hands pull hair and teeth bite deep. Everyone is all knees and elbows. Nothing is comfortable but everything feels so fucking good. Fuck, who cares if there isn’t any room? I’ve got her underneath me and that’s all the space I need. Someone’s hand is tearing at my pants, struggling to get me out of my clothes. At this stage I can’t tell, it could be me for all I know. I don’t even care. I’m tearing my shirt off. Too late now anyway, I’m already covered in sweetness. Nails caress my flesh. ‘L’ is giving me a look that makes me harden like ice. Those fucking lips need to be used. Cold hands on hot flesh. Release isn’t far away. ‘H’ was a gorgeously exotic treat. A flirty exhibitionist with the dirtiest smile I’ve had the pleasure to see. She was sitting across from me at the table, ‘L’ sat to my right and was feeding us sushi. Utterly decadent over our drinks. In her right hand she held a pair of chopsticks, delicately dropping fine slithers of salmon into ‘H’s mouth. Her left hand was on my lap, massaging my cock through my pants with firm, aggressive strokes. She was staring in my eyes with sultry intensity, daring me to cum there and then. All day I had been in a state of perpetual arousal and it was her fault. Like, actually her fault and not just me complaining about it. ‘L’ had asked me to play with myself every chance I got through the day, staying as hard as I could for as long as I could. I was enjoying submitting to her, but I was beginning to regret my obedience by this stage. It was taking all of my conversation to eat and maintain conversation and to keep myself restrained. I didn’t even notice when ‘H’ suggested a threesome. ‘L’ grabbed my hand, tearing me away from ‘H’s tit. A moment of aggression surged through me before she nestled my palm between her thighs. Silky wetness greeted my curious fingers and ‘L’ moaned heavily into the air. I wonder how long her panties have been missing, but not for long. I know an offer when I see when. It’s cramped, but we make it work. She spreads her thighs for me, opening her body up and lounging back like a goddess. ‘H’ is panting and shaking quietly in the back, her body still reeling from the constant strain of orgasm that we’ve put it under. I’ve had an interesting life. I’ve seen some amazing things. I’ve even done a few of them. But for my money, there is nothing more satisfying, erotic and intensely arousing than a beautiful woman telling me to go down on them. She tasted like apples and mint. After dinner, comfortably full and slightly buzzed on a mixture of good company and cheap drinks, we doddled off to 1806 for something a little classier. I had actually been there recently and was looking forward to enjoying a few of their cocktails again. It wasn’t quiet what I had planned for the night, but it was a welcome deviation. I figured I’d get a drink or two and then toddle off to the tram for a quiet ride home. I was starting to get the impression that a quiet ride home was not on the cards for the night. ‘H’ hadn’t let go of the threesome idea and somewhere between the Tequila Custard and the Angel’s Milk it had moved from being a cheeky joke to an obvious request. She was talking about how good it would be to have people eat off of her, and for the three of us to fool around and see what happened. ‘L’ and ‘H’ were casually making out, to the obvious attention of the other patrons and the ire of the staff. Flesh was being openly groped and the subject of conversation was erotic, to say the least. We were three drinks in when we started looking for cheap hotels or swingers parties on that night. I am not the suavest of men, nor am I the luckiest. I tend to lean towards the pessimistic. When I see a situation that is too good to be true, I assume there’s a hidden catch and start bracing for the worst. We talked about a few parties and events that mingle the Melbourne Swingers scenes, debated getting a room in the city for the night, but in the end sobriety prevailed and – given the hour and a rather generous spirit on ‘L’s behalf, we were all getting lifts home. Before we tottered off to the car, ‘H’ ran into a 7-11 saying there was something she needed to get. She came out with a jar of Nutella. “You two should fuck.” Those words broke something in me. What little restraint I had left snapped. ‘L’ was speaking with her mouth full as I enjoyed the sweet silkiness of her body. ‘H’ had abandoned herself to pleasure by this stage. ‘L’, you gorgeous girl. If I could squeeze between those thighs and join you down there, I’d kiss you. ‘H’ nodded her agreement vigorously, as eager to play the role of obedient plaything as I was and before long she was standing half-in, half-out of the car, silken pussy swaying invitingly, fighting to stay warm. She asked me what I was waiting for. I didn’t need to be told twice. Sometimes my life throws me a curve ball. Sometimes it throws me two.