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{ASSM} New Story:French Roulette <*> (FF/M,Oral,Anal, Light Bondage)

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Chron...@aol.com

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Jan 23, 2000, 3:00:00 AM1/23/00
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This is a first attempt so please excuse the usual pratfalls one would expect
of a newbie.

This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998. Please do not remove the
author information or make any changes to this story. Please feel free to
post to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial
sites. Thanks. (Not 100% sure what most of that gobbledy gook means but
everyone seems to use like language...)

And, to copy and paraphrase to inevitable disclaimers and warnings
normally attached to these stories... "The following is a work of fiction
and the usual statements about bearing any resemblance to people or places,
living or dead, being coincidental, etc., apply here. Futhermore, this story
contains descriptions of a sexual nature. If you are under age or it is
illegal for you to read such in your jurisdiction, or would be morally
outraged, shocked or offended by such, please stop now!" There. That should
cover everything.

FRENCH ROULETTE <*> (FF/M, oral, anal, light bondage)

By Chronos Foe

"A Pair of sixes."

"Three sevens."

"Full House. Queens over threes. Pay up, Andrea."

Agonizingly slow. Still, closer and closer. Both had lost (first their left,
then their right) spike heeled sandals. Their deliberate card playing and
movements made those losses seem like hours ago. Nevertheless, the sight of
their shapely legs, lovingly caressed by their ultra sheer hose, anchored my
attention. Their petite feet were expertly pedicured. Their fingers perfectly
manicured. Very minimal make-up was expertly applied. The barest hints of
their perfume fogged my brain, which swam with visions of things yet to come.

Now, Andrea had just lost her bet, and so, her left stocking. Slightly
intoxicated, and with a shy smile, she reached under the hem of her slinky
dress and teasingly peeled it off. Karen and I leered as the sheer black
stocking was slowly replaced by a stunningly gorgeous, bare leg.

Despite knowing their nature, this game had come as a surprise to me.

***************

I had met these ladies through a mutual friend at a cocktail party over a
year ago. Both Andrea, a shorthaired blond, and Karen, with her shoulder
length, raven hair, were then, as now, dressed to the nines. They were both
"girl-next-door" beautiful. Each had her own arrestingly good-looking
features. Certainly, even on their worst day, either could attract any man of
their choosing in whatever room she happened to be. When together, the sight
of these two friends naturally inspires lust filled fantasy.

Knowing they were out of my league kept me from trying too hard. Perhaps this
allowed our conversation to flow naturally. I found them to be smart, funny,
and altogether interesting. In a short while, I swear, I began to forget just
how good looking they were. Friendly interest from both seemed to be returned
my way. However, despite the "friendly" tone of our conversation, outrageous
flirting and double entendres increasingly crept into their speech. They
seemed to enjoy shocking me this way. Several times I was left stammering to
their bemusement. I tried to keep up but confess I was no match for either
and certainly not for both at once. Each cautioned me that the other was
"zany... outrageous... willing to dare anything". Yet, each continued to act
with the decorum our surroundings suggested.

We found I shared many of their varied interests. As the party ended, we
agreed to meet for dinner later that week. As time passed, we continued to
meet for tennis, movies, baseball games, plays, cocktails, lunch, "Happy
Hours" and more. Whatever activity one of us suggested, the results were an
uproariously good time. They even dragged me off to (God help me) a ballet.
Astoundingly, another great time was had by all. We openly drooled over the
dancers: I over the ballerinas, Andrea over the male dancers and Karen over
both.

Yes, I learned that while Andrea was straight, Karen was bisexual. There
apparently was an unspoken agreement between them that, through the years,
had kept Karen from ever seducing Andrea, despite Karen's obvious (at least
to me) attraction to her. Though never mentioned, this agreement apparently
now extended to me. No matter how ribald the banter, a no two of us ever
explored that obvious ground.

We all have other friends but enjoyed each other's company most. We all
dated. So far, none of us had found regular, satisfying sex partners. In
fact, for all their apparent sexual aggressiveness, amazingly they weren't
all that sexually experienced. Andrea confessed to having had two prior
lovers. Karen boasted five encounters (three men, two women, all enjoyable
only for the moment). And so, our unusual relationship grew.

And they were thoroughly, wonderfully insane. Whenever together, invariably
one of them would say or do something leaving us in hysterics. In truth
though, Karen was the "zany, outrageous" one. Andrea tended to be somewhat
more conservative. Both were, however, merciless cock teasers. Wherever we
went, their daring outfits never failed to achieve the desired level of male
attention (all of it). I was their favorite, but joyously receptive, target.
They relished torturing me by making us exchange our favorite sexual
fantasies while playing "footsie" with me. Suggestively dancing with them at
clubs left me weak. Watching them torment other men did provide some relief
and amusement. And, Andrea and I always had great fun observing Karen stalk
another female (we provided the color commentary).

No sex occurred between we three unless you count kisses, hugs, occasional
tickling and some playful pinches and gropes. They both frequently swore that
the day would come when they would ravish my helpless body. But this was all
in fun and in keeping with their screwball personalities. None of us thought
to cross the line. Correction, I thought of it constantly, but I refused to
allow myself to screw this up. Being with them was simply too much fun. We
were enjoying things so much the way they were and, I guess, were fearful of
going the next step. Until now...

***************

Andrea's cousin's bridal shower "sucked to a nuclear degree" according to
Andrea. They had managed to sneak out early, called me, and invited
themselves to my apartment. I greeted each with a peck, a grope and a freshly
made Margarita.

"They're goddamned born again druids or something," Andrea loudly complained.
"No male strippers. No sex toys. And, (I'm sure this must be illegal, she
noted), NO BOOZE!"

Karen breezily agreed with Andrea's evaluation. Then she was off on a new,
but related, tangent. "Where's your porn?" she asked while striding towards
my TV.

"How do you know...?" began Andrea until she was cut off by an "Oh, c'mon!"
look from Karen. She replied with "I surrender" gestures.

"First drawer to the left of the VCR," I answered, unwittingly confirming my
pervert status. Well, it's not as if that issue was ever in doubt...

They poured over my modest collection and made a joint selection. We settled
in to talk and drink. In time we leisurely drifted into our second pitcher of
Mexico's gift to the world. The movie required our frequent critique of the
on-screen action. Everything, including some of the sex scenes, were,
naturally, ridiculously funny. But, when a strip poker scene in the movie
came on, a subtle change in atmosphere occurred. They exchanged a look that
was ragged when they were finished with it. Wordlessly they had come to an
agreement.

"Why are strip poker scenes always so poorly done?" asked Andrea. Ahh, the
opening gambit...

"Pure realism," I replied with a smirk. "In real life, without fail, four
losing hands into the game, females declare the game over."

"Ooohh, let's get 'em, Kar. Dems fightin' woids," Andrea laughed.

"Yeah, get a deck and prepare to be very embarrassed," Karen dared. Her grin
was part playful and part panthress.

Continuing the gag, I produced a new deck of cards. When they sat down at the
table looking ready for the first deal, I froze for an instant realizing they
were serious.

***************

"...And don't forget how thirsty losing makes you," giggled Karen, referring
to the mandatory shot of tequila a losing hand always brought. Andrea balled
up and discarded her stocking and accepted the proffered drink. We'd all
been drunk in each other's presence at one time or another and never to a bad
result. But I began to worry that, should one of us get sloppy drunk now, it
would divert this little lust train from the depot.

"Maybe we could skip the loser's shot," I began. Thinking I was suggesting a
total liquor ban, both immediately began to protest. A compromise was reached
and the bottle remained on the table for whoever desired more. We all
liberally continued to partake but only as needed.

Eventually, we all reached the critical state. Andrea was clad only in a
very thin black bra and panty set. Earlier, when losing continuously, she
showed delightful flashes of embarrassment. Now, as we had "caught up", she
grinned seductively and looked determined not to lose again. Karen wore a
thong (a really, really nice ass peeked out of it) and a matching red
camisole. Having lost the last hand, I was reduced to my underwear.

"I'm sooo disappointed in those boxers," teased Karen. "They are, you
understand, boring beyond any standard."

"Sorry, ladies. I wasn't expecting company and my Spiderman Underoos are
still in the wash."

Karen's moment of truth came first. I assumed this is where we'd come to our
senses. Wrong again. Although she mumbled an "Oh, shit!", there was no
hesitation at all. She rose and smiled. She crossed her arms in front of her,
grasping the hem of the camisole. She then slowly lifted it over her head. My
brain screamed a trite, but eloquent, "WOW!". The next deal found Andrea with
a Queen high losing hand. Despite Karen having pushed the envelope, she
faltered and flustered. Fortunately, only minimal coaxing from us was
required and Andrea, too, was happily topless.

Somehow I managed a shaky "Your deal..." and pushed the deck to Karen. For
the first time I saw a tremble in her hands as she slid out the cards to us.
Good. At least I wasn't alone. God dammit to hell! Jack high was the best I
could manage and I wondered just how difficult this would get. Andrea,
though, busted an inside baby straight.

"Well... Well..." Andrea said with a weak, trembling smile and a hopeless
look. "I'll need another shot right now, thank you. Another, please. Thanks.
Well..." she said again.

Talk about "grinning and baring it". Andrea, now smiling coyly, looking
embarrassed but yet lustfully enthusiastic (how did she do that?!), hooked
her fingers in the waistband of her French cut panties and slowly slid them
off. She had a neatly trimmed pussy. The sight of her, gloriously naked,
caused the blood to pound in my head and my cock.

"A slow turn on the runway, if you please, Miss Andrea," quipped a beaming
Karen. Andrea, blushing beyond all reason, complied and strutted her stuff.
"Y-e-s-s-s, and now if you'd part your legs and bend over for us, please?"

"Backwards?" she asked full of innocence.

"Nobody loves a showoff, dear," Karen replied without missing a beat.

How she could be stark naked and move so demurely baffled me, but she did.
Andrea, legs slightly parted, bent at the waist making me struggle for
control. She peeked around her own nude form and seemed relieved at our open
mouthed admiring stares.

"Yes, very nicely done," applauded Karen. Indeed, her well-rounded ass and
her pussy, which looked to be gasping for cock, were breathtaking.

"Well, we should discuss new rules. I have nothing left to bet," said Andrea,
fighting to regain some composure and control.

"Usually, after someone is nude and loses again, he or she, must do whatever
the winner wants..." I ventured, hopefully. Andrea lowered her head and eyes,
smiling bashfully.

"You know full well that we frown upon the usual," Karen quickly interrupted,
hands defiantly on hips. Andrea shot her an alarmed look. "Perhaps now we
can safely end this game..." she saw my immediate pout, and hastened to add,
"...and, of course, begin a different one."

"Karen..." Andrea began worriedly.

"You obviously have something in mind..." I quickly interjected, heading off
any possible protest from Andrea.

"Oh, how about Russian Roulette?" Karen deadpanned. Here, four long beats of
silence ensued.

"You are soooo fucking insane! I'm outta here!" Andrea cried, reaching for
her clothes. "But before I go, what the fuck's the matter with you?!"

"Way to spoil a mood, Kar!" I joined in. "What the fuck...?!"

"Wait! Sorry! Sorry! Hold a sec...! It's the booze! I didn't mean... C'mon
guys, after all this time you know better than that," She began and then
paused. "OOOH... Yeah... What I meant was: "French Roulette." Her demeanor
flashed from frantic apologist to that of a smug, lust filled, evil genius.
She waited, expecting instant comprehension. Instead silence and blank stares
ensued.

Finally, Andrea waved her home, "OK, C'mon. Let's have it."

"First the stakes," she began. "High. But not as high, or as final, as the
Russian version. The losers become the sex slaves of the winner for the rest
of the night."

"Hmmm. OK. Let's say you've got my attention back", Andrea allowed. "Just
don't freak me out any more."

I paused for dramatic effect while pretending, in exaggerated fashion, to
consider the stakes. "Gee, I don't know... (followed without pause by)...
well, if I must..." I said in my best Groucho. It definitely didn't deserve
it, but they chuckled politely anyway.

"Please do continue," Andrea urged Karen onward.

"Look, we've been talking about sucking his cock for some time now," said
Karen. Andrea glared at her and was again blushing furiously. Once more, I
was rendered speechless. "Here's the bet," Karen quickly continued before
Andrea could rally a defense, "We proceed in rounds. First round, we take
turns of one draw on his cock. Round two, we each take two draws. And so
on..."

"Take a draw?" I puzzled.

"Lips slide down the shaft. Lips are dragged back up the shaft while sucking.
This is a draw," Karen exasperatedly explained. "Don't try to tell us you
never had a blow job."

"No. No. I've never heard the mechanics of it referred to this way, that's
all."

"May, I continue? Thank you. The rest should be obvious. The loser is the
one who winds up with a mouthful of cum."

"And just how, pray tell, does he lose?" Andrea wondered, the conversation
having raced her past her initial horror at Karen's disclosure.

"Point taken. Hold a sec...". Karen paused, though I'm sure she had this
worked out in advance. "God, your gonna love this. He has to keep from
cumming! If he lasts past round, lets say 30, he wins and we're his slaves.
If not, he joins the other loser in submission." Hmmm, no downside to me. If
I managed to hold out, I'd more than satisfy myself with them later.

The tequila, apparently, and her developing interest in the rules, pushed
Andrea right along. "So, we're both trying to make him cum, although into
each other's mouth," she considered. "And he's..."

"...And he's getting more and more desperate to cum but mustn't," Karen
finished.

I know what you're thinking. And had I been a little more sober, the
implications would've hit me sooner, too. I'll leave the task of double
checking my math to you. For now, trust me. The arithmetic progression of one
to thirty "draws" would equal 465 sucks on my cock. Now multiply by two sets
of luscious lips. I sure as hell wouldn't be winning. Still, deck hopelessly
stacked, I sure as hell wasn't going to protest. I knew of no one who would.

Hilariously enough (for them), strategies quickly began to evolve. "This is
awesome! You're a genius! Let's say we're on round 15. You might consider
five slow sensual sucks followed by ten fast, ardent sucks hoping he's left
on the brink for your opponent," observed Andrea.

"Yes," replied Karen. "And whatever pattern you settle on, ideally, when his
need is most urgent, the sensations briefly stop for a change of partners."

I began to instinctively point out the inherent cruelty involved. Andrea,
eyes wide and sweetly innocent, quickly brought me to heel. "Does that mean
you'd rather not play...?" Another brief silence. We began.

A coin flip gave the honors to Karen. She unashamedly climbed out of her
thong. My, God, She was shaved bare. "For this to work, you'll have to lose
those drawers, my love," she purred. I complied.

They took the precaution of tying me spread eagle to the bed to prevent me
from "interfering". She began. I was transported. The first few rounds went
quickly. By round four, both settled on slow, sucking motions. Neither of
them considered these rounds important. Not so for me. My dick was steel
almost from the moment they had entered my apartment. Their outfits... the
porn... the poker game... They had no idea what agony they were inflicting.
Bullshit. They knew.

By round seven, they were varying their strokes as their whim. On and on. Up
and down their heads lovingly bobbed. It was Heaven. It was Hell. But Dante,
that bastard, forgot to warn us about this particular circle. I recall at
certain points, for God knows what reason, shots of tequila being pressed to
my lips. I was beyond caring. In time, successfully completed rounds brought
sorority-sister style giggles and speculations as to how much farther I could
go. This, of course, was merely their clever, but transparent, way of
increasing the intervals between actual sucking. If somehow I could manage
revenge, it would indeed be sweet.

Round eleven saw a gag placed on me. I was babbling incoherently, and, it
seems, disturbing their concentration. Yeah… Uh-huh… Right… Round 19 brought
a slip by Andrea. In drawing her lips up my shaft, she briefly lost contact
with it. "Foul! Foul!" screamed Karen, laughingly. They staged a mock
argument over a possible penalty as I moaned and writhed. Eventually, they
took pity and continued.

I held on, heroically, I might modestly add, until round 26. Karen looked
confidently at Andrea. "You know that he's ready to pop, don't you?" Andrea
gently took hold of my throbbing member as if it was live ordinance. In fact,
it was.

"Come on, baby," she whispered huskily to it. "Hold out for me and splash
pretty little Karen. I'll make sure you're treated right for the rest of the
night." Counterproductively, she was rubbing it against her cheek.

"No fair trying to bribe him," Karen sniffed. "Totally useless, at this
point," she further observed, "but unfair nonetheless."

Andrea fought the inevitable by lightening and slowing her strokes. I was
desperate to lose at this point. My hips bucked wildly seeking sufficient
friction for my poor tormented cock. Her light touch was maddening. Eighteen
"draws" into Andrea's turn, the universe that was my scrotum imploded. It
then rocketed up and out of my shaft drenching Andrea's mouth and throat. My
spasms seemed to go on and on. She gamely tried to swallow it all. She did
well allowing only some to escape to her cheeks, her chin, her tits. Karen
was quick to her aid, lapping up the wayward sperm from Andrea's quivering
body. She devoted more time than needed to clean Andrea's swelled and
stiffened nipples. Neither Andrea, nor I, thought to quibble over this.

They untied me and we caught our collective breath. A fresh pitcher of
Margaritas helped speed our recovery.

No, I won't pretend to know when or how, but I was not the only one who had
enjoyed an orgasm. And yes, my lovely lunatics did naturally revive faster
than me. And you, I suppose, could do better.

Andrea and I gushed our approval of Karen's devious game. She graciously
acknowledged our kudos. Her nude curtsey was a sight to behold. We briefly
attempted more conversation before Karen again seized control.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat and smiled wickedly. "I find it laughable that
you both are hoping I'll forget and that you'll be spared the consequences."
We maintained our silence and hoped we looked innocent. Karen would have none
of it.

She sat up and lay back on the headboard, propping pillows behind her. Her
arms eased expansively wide (her tits looked magnificent) and she beckoned
Andrea towards her. "You, my lovely little slut-slave, will begin the rest of
the evening by pleasuring me with your tongue. Start with a kiss and work
your way slowly down," she said regally.

Andrea fumbled, hesitated and began to stammer, "I... but... Karen... I
thought... wait..."

"Andrea," Karen purred, steadily locking eyes with her prey, "it's time for
this. You know it is. When we started this game you knew this could happen.
Part of you wanted this to happen. You needed it to happen. You lost. Come
here now and pay up." She continued on with her patter, sweetly and
hypnotically. Andrea's resistance melted with every inch of her approach. I
felt I should applaud Karen's method and gradually increasing success but was
fearful of breaking the spell. They gently kissed and caressed for a long
time. Andrea shivered deliciously with each of Karen's strokes.

"You. Stand closer with your hands behind you. I want to watch your cock
rise and swell as she works." Happily, I couldn't disappoint on this score if
my life depended upon it.

Andrea worked sensuously and enthusiastically. All inhibitions had fully
evaporated. She began to orchestrate Karen's orgasms with shocking expertise.
She might never have done this before, but it was readily apparent she had
thought of it often. Her tongue slashed at the nape of Karen's neck and
tormented her rubbery erect nipples. En route to her clit, it paused for an
eternity, fluttering on Karen's midsection and causing Karen's abs to ripple
uncontrollably. Karen had been fighting to remain still, hoping to prolong
the pleasure. But now she could not refrain from slowly pushing Andrea's head
farther down. Gently, but forcefully, she guided Andrea's lips to her baby
smooth pussy. Andrea's tongue began its slow, loving assault on Karen's clit.

Between sighs and gasps of pleasure, Karen motioned me to get behind Andrea.
Andrea's ass was thrust proudly into the air as she continued her labors.
Karen silently mouthed her next command to me, "Fuck her. Fuck her." The
unexpected invasion by my cock made Andrea gasp for breath. Regaining her
senses, she returned to her task. They both were groaning and panting now.

We all enjoyed the gentle rhythms. Time, I suppose, passed. Then Karen, toes
pointed, and with the grace of a gymnast, raised her widely spread legs up,
over and onto Andrea's shoulders. She allowed several seconds for Andrea to
become comfortable with this position. Cunningly, she had pinned the
unsuspecting Andrea in place. She again covertly caught my attention (no
small feat) and mouthed her new command to me, "Her ass. Fuck her ass".

The exit of cock from cunt elicited a disappointed groan. The touch of the
tip of my cock to her asshole was electric. She said nothing but violently
swung her head "NO!". Her rear, however strained ever backwards to aid my
entry.

Whatever the hell those combined body movements signified, Karen had ensured
that Andrea wasn't going anywhere. In I gently thrusted. After several
strokes, I convinced myself all was well. Had I wanted, I could have remained
motionless. Andrea was now repeatedly impaling her ass onto my cock using
steady backward thrusts. With laudable persistence, she also refused to quit
her efforts to erase Karen's clit with her tongue. In time, like slowly
toppling dominos, we serially came and collapsed.

"Any survivors?" I whispered into our heap.

"None," they hoarsely replied as one. We disentangled and started to collect
ourselves again. Karen drowsily began to pour another round. Andrea stood and
stretched leisurely. Yet again, I am blessed by such a vision. I reached for
a pillow.

"Not yet, cowboy," Karen cautioned. "I haven't bounced on your dick yet." She
ignored my whimpers magnificently. Turning to face Andrea, but continuing to
address me, she added, "And I have further plans for her, too." Andrea
suddenly became alert and apprehensive. She paused and appraised Andrea's
nude body lovingly. Then she called over her shoulder to me, "You do have
fresh film in your camera, don't you?"

Andrea's final blush was picture perfect.

--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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