A Stranger’s Mouth at the Feast
# Stranger's Feast The living room was warm, lit only by the low, amber glow of two floor lamps. Music, something with a deep, insistent bassline, pulsed quietly through hidden speakers. The air smelled of expensive bourbon and the faint,
Chapter 1
The living room was warm, lit only by the low, amber glow of two floor lamps. Music, something with a deep, insistent bassline, pulsed quietly through hidden speakers. The air smelled of expensive bourbon and the faint, clean scent of rain from an earlier shower. Cassandra shifted on the deep, sectional sofa, the soft leather creaking under her. She wore nothing but a black silk robe, loosely tied. The dim light caught the silver barbell through her nipple, a tiny, hard promise.
Across from her, Marcus sat in a wide armchair, legs spread. He was already shirtless, his dark skin a contrast against the cream upholstery. His expression was intense, focused, those serious blue eyes fixed on her. His large, freckled hands rested on his thighs, fingers drumming a slow rhythm.
“They’re late,” Cassandra said, her voice a playful murmur. She let one hand drift to the tie of her robe.
“They’ll be here,” Marcus replied, his tone low and sure. He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving her. “Talk to me.”
A slow smile spread across her full lips. “About what?”
“You know.”
She did. She let the robe fall open a little, just enough to reveal the swell of her breast and the elegant script of the tattoo above her bikini line: *Cum Hard*. “I was thinking about his mouth,” she began, her voice dropping into a husky register. “A stranger’s mouth. Not knowing his name, just knowing he’s going to taste me. That he’s going to spread my legs right here on this couch and bury his face between them while you watch.”
Marcus’s breath hitched. His hand moved to the front of his trousers, palming the thick bulge there. “Keep going.”
Chapter 2
The doorbell chimed, a soft, melodic sound.
Cassandra’s heart kicked against her ribs. She didn’t close her robe. Marcus stood, his tall frame unfolding, and went to answer it.
They entered together, a couple who mirrored the invitation’s promise. He was tall, his brown hair perfectly styled, his blue eyes sharp and appreciative behind stylish glasses. He wore a dark, formal vest over a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal intricate tattoos winding around his forearms. His wife was a vision of contrasted elegance – a sleek black dress that hugged her curves, her own piercings glinting at her ears and nose. Her smile was predatory.
Introductions were a formality, names exchanged and instantly forgotten, melting into the roles they were here to play. Drinks were poured, the silence heavy with anticipation.
It was the stranger, the husband, who broke it. He set his glass down and looked directly at Cassandra. “That,” he said, his voice smooth, “is a magnificent tattoo.”
Cassandra stood up, letting the robe slide from her shoulders completely. It pooled at her feet. She stood before them all, slim and curvy, the ink on her skin a story only Marcus fully knew. “It’s an instruction.”
A low groan came from Marcus’s chair. He was still seated, his large hands now gripping the arms, his knuckles white. The other wife had moved, settling herself on the carpet at Marcus’s feet, her head tilting to look up at him.
“Show me,” the stranger said, not moving from his spot.
Cassandra walked to the center of the room, the soft rug under her feet. She slowly turned, giving him the full view – the curve of her ass, the dip of her waist, the proud jut of her pierced nipple. Then she faced him again and slowly sank to her knees, parting her thighs. She used her fingers to open herself, revealing slick, pink folds. The ‘Cum Hard’ script was now a banner, a demand.
The stranger finally moved. He crossed the room, his steps deliberate. He didn’t touch her at first, just knelt before her, his formal attire absurdly out of place. He studied her, his blue eyes missing nothing. “Beautiful,” he breathed, and the word was a prayer.
Then his hands were on her thighs, pushing them wider. His thumbs smoothed over her inner lips, pulling them apart. He leaned in, his breath hot against her, but stopped a hair’s breadth away. “He’s watching,” the stranger murmured, his lips brushing her curls.
Cassandra’s head fell back. She looked over at Marcus. His wife had her hand on the fly of his trousers, working the button free. Marcus’s eyes were locked on Cassandra, a fierce possessiveness and a wild, surrendered pleasure warring in his gaze. “Let him watch,” Cassandra gasped. “Let him see you make me come on your tongue.”
Chapter 3
The stranger needed no further invitation. His mouth covered her, not tentative, but with an experienced, hungry confidence. His tongue was a flat, wet heat against her clit, then delving deep
Chapter 4
Cassandra’s fingers twisted in the stranger’s brown hair, gripping hard. She pulled his face deeper into her wet heat, arching her back off the rug as she ground herself against his mouth. “Fuck yes, eat my pussy harder!” she shouted, the command raw and desperate. His tongue was a relentless instrument, circling her swollen clit before plunging deep, and she could feel the vibration of his moans against her most sensitive flesh.
Just inches from her face, his cock stood thick and veiny, twitching with every hungry stroke of his tongue. A clear drop of pre-cum welled at its broad tip. Cassandra breathed heavily, her gaze locked on it, then dragged her eyes across the room to Marcus.
He had the stranger’s wife pinned beneath him on the sectional, her sleek black dress pushed up around her waist. Marcus’s large, freckled hands gripped her hips, his own muscles corded with tension as he drove into her. Each powerful thrust sank his thick cock deep, the wet slap of skin filling the space between Cassandra’s ragged moans.
“You like that?” Marcus growled, his voice strained. “You like watching him make my girl scream?”
The stranger’s wife could only gasp, her head thrown back. “God, yes! Don’t stop!”
The stranger lifted his mouth from Cassandra, his lips and chin glistening. “Taste yourself,” he commanded, his voice rough. He guided his twitching cockhead to her lips, smearing the pre-cum across them. “Suck it. Get it wet for her.”
Cassandra’s tongue darted out, tasting the salty promise. She opened her mouth, taking just the swollen head between her lips, sucking gently as she looked up at him.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Now tell him. Tell your man what you’re doing.”
She released him with a pop, turning her head toward Marcus. “I’m sucking his perfect cock, baby,” she panted, her hand stroking the stranger’s length. “I’m getting it all slick for his wife. You gonna fill her up while I watch?”
Marcus’s pace stuttered, a deep groan tearing from his chest. “Fuck, Cassandra. Yes. I’m gonna pump her full.”
The stranger shifted, his blue eyes blazing behind his glasses. “My turn,” he said, and he guided Cassandra onto her back, pushing her thighs wide. He positioned himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against her soaked folds. He paused, holding himself there, letting her feel the immense pressure. “Look at him. Watch him fuck my wife while you take me.”
Cassandra obeyed, her head turning, her body singing with need. She watched Marcus’s powerful, frantic thrusts, heard the wife’s rising cries, and felt the stranger’s hot, insistent push as he began to enter her, stretching her exquisitely, filling the room with a symphony of gasps and flesh and desperate, filthy talk.
Chapter 5
Marcus’s command sliced through the symphony of wet sounds and moans, his voice a deep, possessive growl. “Cassandra. On your hands and knees. Now. Show me.”
The stranger’s cock slid from her with a lewd, wet sound. Cassandra scrambled, her body humming with need, and got into position on the soft rug. She arched her back, presenting herself, her *Cum Hard* tattoo on full display for the man behind her. The stranger’s large, freckled hands gripped her hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he positioned himself. The broad, veiny head of his cock nudged against her slick opening.
Marcus was watching, his blue eyes blazing with intensity as he continued to pump into the stranger’s wife beneath him. “Do it,” Marcus commanded, his voice raw. “Fuck my girl. Make her scream my name while you own her.”
The stranger needed no further encouragement. He drove forward in one brutal, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside her. Cassandra cried out, a sharp, guttural sound of pure pleasure-pain as he stretched her impossibly full.
“Oh fuck, yes!” she screamed, her fingers clawing at the rug. “His cock is so deep, baby! He’s filling me up!”
The stranger set a punishing rhythm, each powerful snap of his hips slamming her forward. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin filled the room, a brutal counterpoint to the wife’s escalating cries as Marcus fucked her.
“You like that?” the stranger grunted, his voice strained with effort. “You like getting your tight little pussy wrecked while your husband watches?”
“Yes! God, yes!” Cassandra shrieked, pushing back against him to meet every thrust. She looked over her shoulder, her vision blurry with pleasure, and locked eyes with Marcus. “He’s owning me, Marcus! He’s fucking me harder than anyone ever has! Watch him take what’s yours!”
Marcus’s pace faltered, a shudder running through his tall frame. His grip on the other woman’s hips tightened, his own release clearly building as he watched the scene unfold. “Scream for me, Cassandra,” he ordered, his voice thick. “Let me hear you come on his cock.”
The stranger’s thrusts became erratic, deeper, harder. One of his hands left her hip and snaked around to her front, his fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing tight, frantic circles. The dual assault was too much. Cassandra’s back bowed, and a raw, shattered scream tore from her throat as a blistering wave of pleasure crashed through her, her body clamping down around the thick cock pounding into her. She chanted his name, Marcus’s name, a desperate, filthy prayer as the stranger rode her through her climax, never slowing his relentless pace.