Free Fantasy Maker by Sabrina Kyle Page A

Did you?”
    It always
amuses me how often the clients want to be reassured that I’m
having a good time as well.
    “Well…” I
said conspiratorially, “I actually expected it to be pretty boring.
As far as I was concerned, there would be no sex or anything; I
just had to lie quite still with my eyes closed for the duration of
dinner. My client was very firm that I should not to look at them
or interact.”
    I paused
and stretched into a pose. “So, I’m lying there like this, naked
but covered in food, with my eyes tightly shut, and I hear the men
come into the room for dinner. There were probably six or so of
them. There was some initial touching, but I expected that. A
couple of breast squeezes, some nipple tweaks, and a hand across my
bare stomach. That kind of thing. But they seemed generally well
behaved and began to help themselves to the food around
me.”
    At this
point I could see Jerry beginning to get his fifth hard-on of the
night, which for a man in his late forties was good going. I
wondered if he had taken Viagra. I knew the next part of my story
would get him revved up and mentally prepared myself for another
bout. After all, he paid me well enough for it; maybe I would use
these stories more often as a bonus for my favourite
clients.
    He
caressed my breasts and I knew he was picturing the scene I was
describing.
    “However,” I continued, “somewhere down the table near my
knees were a selection of crudités and some dips. And some bright
spark decided it would be a good idea to add another ‘dip’ into the
mix. I felt my knees being gently pushed apart and I opened my
legs, I thought maybe they wanted them like that for the view, but
no. The next thing I could feel was carrot sticks, celery and
cucumber; all being dipped inside me one at a time! How bizarre is
that? I can only assume they ate them. Personally I would rather
have a hummus dip, but there’s no accounting for taste, though I
wouldn’t imagine the actual taste was really that delicious.
However, one of them must have really liked it, because he began to
lick me right there on the table. He spread my legs wide and
treated me like a real part of the buffet.”
    Jerry
slid his way down my body and flicked his tongue against my clit.
“Like this?” He asked.
    I moaned
appreciatively, “Yes, just like that.”
    “And they
used you as a dip like this?” He spread my lower lips and slid a
finger slowly in and out of me.
    “Mmmm,
yes, exactly like that.” I answered.
    “Christ,
Steph, that’s so horny.” His cock was buried deep inside me a
moment later and he only lasted a few seconds.
    I smiled
and made a mental note to use that particular scenario again if I
wanted a quick response.
    When he was once more resting contentedly beside me, he began
to tell me about a his idea for a party. He wanted to hold a
fancy-dress toga party, but he wanted all the female guests to
actually be ‘working girls’ so that an apparently genuine Roman orgy could
ensue.
    I agreed
to help him host his party. I had a lot of ideas. Jerry knew what
he might like, but his imagination didn’t encompass what his guests
might also enjoy.
    Together
we planned a series of rooms for his guests to experience,
culminating in the orgy.
    We talked
about converting his entrance hall into a room decorated by real
naked or half dressed women, in a series of classical poses. Some
holding vases, some on plinths, that kind of thing. This was to be
a tantalising promise for the eyes. In this room initial drinks
would be served as the male guests admired the
‘artwork’.
    Perhaps
they would then be ushered to the steam room. This would be a men
only sanctuary, where they could sit around and discuss whatever
men usually talk about in steam rooms. Leading off the steam-room
would be massage rooms and showers.
    Each
massage room would be staffed by a buxom half naked masseuse, who
would firstly give them the Roman treatment of being lightly
whipped with birch twigs,