Whiskey Sour

whiskeys

Deanna paced back and forth on the terrace, the chiffon skirt pushed up against the balcony as she leaned over just enough to look down at the ocean waves beating against the sand. She sighed, a bit frustrated that Devon was still sitting around a poker table with buddies. She would tap her foot on the floor, the tiny taps silenced as her phone rang.

“Hello?” she would say.
“When can you get away?” the voice was heard on the other line.
“It appears I might not be able too, tonight?” she would respond.
“Well can you go ask him. We’ve been here an hour!” the voice would ask.

Deanna with a sigh moved off the terrace and into the room. She plopped down on the sofa, crossing her right ankle over her left and rubbing down her skirt. She would look to Devon and his four friends and studied them.

“Devon, I don’t mean to interrupt but Alexis just called again. She was asking when we might be down for supper?” she would chew on her bottom lip nervously, waiting for a response.

A few of the men at the table just laughed and shook their head. Devon set his cards face down on the table and turned and looked at her. The stare was penetrating, and caused Deanna to shy away some, but the look she knew all to well. It took only a point of his hand to the all too well known closet door, and Deanna was up on her feet walking to it. When Deanna re-entered the room she set the duffle bag down, and then moved to her knees. She adjusted the skirt, and placed her hands behind her bag awaiting Devon’s command.

“You have thirty seconds to put on those cuffs and get to my side!” he would grin deviously.

“Yes, Sir” she said. Deanna moved, as fast as possible, putting the cuffs first on her ankles, and then her wrists and when she was done she crawled to him and knelt before him. Anxiety filled her and revealed itself in her bright green eyes. Devon leaned forward and would remove the clothing from her body. He tossed it to the couch.

“Now stand up, and spread your ass and let me friends see your pretty fuck holes!” he told her, “and it better look pretty!’ he commanded

Fear struck her, but she rose to her feet. She turned her back to them, and parting her thighs shoulder length apart, she would bend over and hold open her ass cheeks. Cool air hit her nether lips, and it caused her to gasp. She trembled knowing how she must look, and when the men all commented on her, it made her groan out from her humiliation. Devon rose to his feet, and placed his drink on the top of her ass.

“If you spill my drink, you will be punished!’ he said to her, before moving to her face and pulling his cock out of his pants, presented it too her. Deanna opened her mouth and took him deep within. Her tongue would move around the bottom side as her saliva got his shaft all sopping wet. Her body shook a little forcing her to arch her back more and lift her ass to try and hold the cup on her without spilling it. Her fingers gripped tightly into her flesh, making sure his friends had the perfect view.

Devon gripped her blonde ponytail and began to thrust his hips back and forth. He would push all the way down until she couldn’t breath, and from that point on he pinched her nose closed. Deanna looked up to him, fear in her eyes, and when he wouldn’t let up, she panicked a little trying to get some air. Her body convulsed and caused the glass on her to spill all over her. His whiskey sliding down the crack of her ass to her pussy was cold but made her glisten even more between her thighs. The glass would hit the ground clanging away.

“Well you spilled my drink whore!” he said to her, before smacking the side of her face a little, and would finally pull his cock out of her mouth. Trails of saliva was cut as he moved away and Deanna was choking and gasping for air, before she cried out. “What should we do to her?” he asked his friends.

(to be continued)

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