The Dinner Party: Lesbian Erotica

Ifollowed Jasmine down the circular stairs, across the marble-tiled foyer, past an open kitchen where a group of chefs wearing white hats were busy cooking, to a closed set of French doors. Jasmine paused, opened the doors and motioned me inside. I walked into a palatial dining room with a large table seating eight people, all wearing robes and masquerade masks.

The table was covered in a large white linen cloth extending down to the floor. The place settings were beautifully decorated with crystal wine goblets, polished silverware, and gold-embossed dinner plates. At the head of every place setting was a folded tent card with each person’s first name and a little silver bell.

The entire scene was surreal. As I followed Jasmine toward the one remaining unoccupied seat at the table, everyone watched me. There was an even mix of men and women appearing to be in their twenties and thirties and of mixed ethnicity, just as my profile preferences had requested. And all of them were beautiful. Some smiled at me as I approached the table.

Jasmine pulled out the empty chair and motioned for me to have a seat. I noticed the chair had a hollow opening in the middle and front section of the seat cushion, shaped almost like a toilet seat. On the back of the chair was a small wooden hook. Otherwise, the chairs were tastefully detailed in full upholstery with high backs and armrests. I sat tentatively down onto the chair and found it surprisingly comfortable. Jasmine exited the room and closed the French doors quietly behind her.

“It looks like we’re all here,” the woman sitting at the head of the table announced. It was Blair from my interview. She had replaced her feathered mask with a Venetian-style mask and was wearing a robe, but I recognized her unmistakable voice immediately.

“My name is Blair,” she said. “I’ll be your hostess for the evening. If there’s anything you desire at any time, please don’t hesitate to ask. We want you to feel comfortable, stimulated, and uplifted throughout the course of our fantasy feast. To that end, may I suggest we begin by disrobing, as a way of releasing our inhibitions and opening ourselves to a fully liberating experience? I’ll be the first. If you’d rather keep your robe on for now, that’s fine too.”

Blair stood up and slowly removed her robe, then hung it on the hook on the back of her chair. She paused for a moment before she sat down to allow everyone to take in her breathtaking beauty. Her plump natural breasts swayed delicately as she turned to face the guests on each side of the table. She was an exquisite specimen of feminine beauty and everyone around the table, men and women alike, were staring just as I was. I was disappointed when she sat down. I could have soaked up her beauty all night long.

“Who else would like to reveal their full beauty for the rest of us to enjoy?” she said.

Blair turned and looked suggestively at the male guest to her immediate right. His place card read Isiah. He paused, momentarily taken aback. But after a few seconds, he also stood and confidently removed his robe then turned and placed it on the hook behind his chair. As he twisted his torso, his tight muscular buttocks flexed to balance his weight. When he turned around, he paused briefly in full frontal view before sitting down. Not everybody was quite as comfortable as Blair getting naked in front of a room full of strangers.

Nonetheless, I saw enough to gain an appreciation of Isiah’s toned physique. An African-American with light brown skin, chiseled pecs and six-pack abs descending to a neatly trimmed pubic area, his half-erect circumcised member betrayed his obvious excitement. Already at least six inches long in a semi-flaccid state, I could only imagine how large he might be fully aroused and erect. As he lowered himself onto his chair holding the armrests, his well-toned arm muscles flexed in a light sheen of perspiration.

He wasn’t the only one already beginning to lubricate this evening.

Everyone around the table looked towards Blair. You could hear a pin drop from the nervous and excited tension in the room. Blair peered at the pretty redheaded woman seated next to Isiah and smiled. The redhead’s place card read Venus. Where do these people come up with their profile names?

Perhaps she was trying to overcompensate for her shyness. Her eyes widened in a mix of fear and nervousness. She paused, looking at Blair uncertainly. Then she took a deep breath, quickly stood up and removed her robe, and hung it behind her chair. She sat back down immediately, her back arched a few inches away from the backrest with a ramrod straight spine. Her perky breasts rested firmly on her chest with pinched nipples betraying her excitement.

Her face was expressionless as she stared straight ahead, afraid to make eye contact with anyone in her fully exposed state. It was obvious this was the first time she’d done anything like this, probably coming from an upper-class repressive home, like myself. It was kind of comforting to know that I wasn’t the only relatively inexperienced one among the group.

One by one, everyone around the table removed their robes, sitting stark naked except for their masks. The men seemed more comfortable disrobing than the women. The next woman awkwardly removed her robe while still seated, apparently not ready to reveal her most intimate parts to the group just yet. The last woman simply parted the top portion of her robe, revealing half of her bare bosom. I was glad that Blair didn’t make anyone feel uncomfortable or set any expectations as the disrobing ritual continued around the table. She simply smiled and acknowledged each person as they revealed as much as they wanted.

The four women and four men were evenly spaced around the oversize table in alternating sexes. Just as I had specified, everyone was young, beautiful, and of mixed heritage. Besides Isiah, there was a Latino man who looked like a young Benicio Del Toro, a dark-haired Patrick Dempsey lookalike, and a thick blond-haired hunk who reminded me of his McSteamy counterpart on the TV show Grey’s Anatomy. All the men were tall, fit—and gorgeous. It was like my own Chippendale show, and I stared shamelessly at the strong toned torsos of the men sitting majestically around the table.

In addition to the shy redhead Venus, the women were represented by a pretty young Asian woman who reminded me a bit of Jasmine, a dark exotic black woman who looked like Naomi Campbell, myself—and of course, Blair. As with the men, all the women were young, attractive, and perfectly toned. It was obvious that this was a discriminating club that catered to the most beautiful and uninhibited.

When it became my turn to disrobe, I hesitated briefly, feeling slightly inadequate amongst this stunning group of Adonises and Lorelei. Blair simply smiled at me and nodded. I paused for a second, then stood confidently, pulling my kimono away in a flourish. My plump breasts bounced firmly as I bent over and hooked my robe behind my chair. The idea of displaying my newly sculpted nude body to a group of strangers was a huge turn-on, and I hesitated for a few seconds before sitting down to let everyone have a good look.

I could feel the electricity in the room as everyone looked around the table and took in the sights and sounds and scents. A distinct womanly perfume permeated the room as an obvious state of arousal began to build among the dinner patrons. My vulva twitched as I felt the cool movement of air against my genitals in the opening of my seat cushion.

Knowing everyone else was feeling the same thing and was equally exposed under the tablecloth was incredibly stimulating. My pussy throbbed and moistened as I imagined the men growing hard and the women getting wet looking at me and the others. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but this was definitely the most titillating experience I had so far, and the evening had barely started.

Blair was the first to break the tension as a door swung open and two pretty waitresses began filling our champagne glasses with bubbly.

“I’m glad everyone has made themselves comfortable,” she said. “We will begin serving our first courses shortly. Please enjoy our services and allow all your senses to be stimulated. Don’t be alarmed if you experience something new at one or more times during the dinner service. The only rule we ask you to honor is that you keep your hands in plain sight at all times. And remember, all you have to do is ring this little bell at your place setting if you feel uncomfortable and wish to stop the services at any time.”

Blair picked up the silver bell at the head of her place setting and tinkled it teasingly. Then she lifted her champagne glass in a toast and everyone followed her lead.

“To unleashing inhibitions, and experiencing transcendence!”

Everyone took a deep swig of their champagne and smiled. They knew the main event was about to begin. The pretty waitresses returned carrying silver platters and placed bowls of gazpacho in front of each dinner guest. Over the next hour or so, Blair facilitated polite chit-chat around the table, referring to everyone by their first name only. Occasionally, one or more guests engaged each other directly in conversation, but always over safe subjects. Whether it was the awkward feeling of being utterly naked or trepidation over what was coming next, everybody seemed on edge.

I was almost disappointed when I picked up my dessert spoon and cut into my crème brulée. So far, it had been a fairly uneventful dinner, except for the obvious staring among the dinner patrons at each other’s nude torsos.

Then, for the first time over the course of the dinner event, Blair became conspicuously quiet. Everyone ate their dessert silently, glancing nervously at each other around the table. None of us were still entirely comfortable engaging each other in direct conversation without Blair’s facilitation.

Suddenly, the redheaded girl gasped and jerked in her chair. Her right hand reflexively reached out to the bell and she considered shaking it as she glanced uncertainly in Blair’s direction. Blair simply smiled and nodded at her. Whatever was going on at Venus’s seat, Blair was apparently fully aware and giving her silent encouragement to continue.

Venus’s breathing became more labored and she set her fork down beside her chocolate torte to steady herself. She moved her hands to her chair armrests and closed her eyes. It was obvious that something was going on below our line of sight as she began squirming seductively in her chair. Her lips parted and she moaned softly. She sank lower in her chair as it was apparent her legs were spreading apart.

Who, or what, was ministering to her under the table obviously was having the desired effect. My pussy began dripping down the crack of my ass as I watched Venus enjoying herself, imagining what was being done to her under the table. Her hands stayed above the table, so she apparently didn’t need any help getting satisfaction.

Suddenly, Venus gasped, locking eyes on me. She was moving rhythmically now in her seat, thrusting her hips in a violent motion as her passion progressively rose. By now, everyone around the table had placed their utensils down and was watching the beautiful redhead enjoy her erotic encounter.

I wanted desperately to reach down and touch myself as Venus looked at me through glistening eyes with lust and abandon. I began to move in synchronicity with her, rotating my hips to her rhythm, trying to find the edge of my seat to rub against my twitching clit. Venus’s cheeks flushed and the pale skin on her upper chest reddened as her breasts heaved with the movement of her hips. Whatever was happening to her under the table, I wanted some of that.

By this point, Venus’s inhibitions had completely evaporated as she was lost in the moment. As her passion rose and she moved closer to climax, she moaned louder and more lustfully. Whimpering in ecstasy, her release came like a volcano as she screamed and grunted like a wild animal with a long and powerful orgasm. Her chest heaved in rhythmic spasms as each wave of passion rolled over her. When she was finally spent, she slumped in her chair and closed her eyes in utter satiation.

Everyone looked at one another around the table in total shock and excitement. Nobody said a word, but we were all thinking the same thing. This had been the most erotic experience any of us had ever witnessed, and each of us was dripping and throbbing in anticipation of receiving similar treatment.

Unsure exactly how to respond, I simply picked up my fork and resumed eating my dessert. Others around the table followed suit. Blair smiled at Venus when she finally regained her composure and sat back up in her chair.

“Did you enjoy your dessert, Venus?”

“It was exquisite,” Venus panted.

Everyone around the table smiled. For another minute or so, all I could hear was the sound of silverware tinkling against dessert dishes and Venus’s contented sighs.

But it didn’t take long before Isiah started squirming in his seat also. Suddenly, he slammed his palms on the table and jerked his body. It was obviously his turn to be serviced under the table. There was something incredibly erotic about not being able to use your own hands and simply abandon yourself to the ministrations of some unknown stranger or strangers. The long skirt of the linen tablecloth obscured any direct sightlines—even he couldn’t know if it was a man or woman massaging his erogenous zones.

Whoever, or whatever it was, he was obviously enjoying it. His eyes glazed over and his arm muscles tensed as he held the armrests of his chair to secure himself. The six-pack muscles in his abdomen flexed as he began to thrust his hips rhythmically. My mind was going crazy imagining what was being done to him. I could hear a slapping noise mixed with a wet sound. Whether it was a mouth or a set of hands on his cock, it was difficult to tell. Something told me at this particular moment Isiah didn’t care.

His breathing was becoming more ragged and his mouth was fully open now, and I could tell he was nearing the point of no return. Suddenly, his body lurched and he let out a guttural moan that indicated something new was happening. He hadn’t come yet though, since his breathing was still rapid and building. What could they be doing to him under the table? I wondered if there might be more than one person servicing him. There certainly was enough room under the large table to accommodate multiple sensualists.

My pussy was throbbing with excitement as I became more conscious of the hole in my chair. My entire vulva was exposed as I felt the movement of air from the activity under the table. Isiah was now bouncing up and down in his chair in complete abandon. I’d read about how some erotic masseuses could stimulate a man’s prostate by inserting a finger or dildo in his ass—maybe this is what he was experiencing.

Whatever it was, it didn’t take long for the procedure to have its desired effect. Isiah let out a long guttural moan and he thrust his hips upward in one last jerk as he threw his head back. He held the armrests tightly in an epileptic spasm that seemed to last thirty seconds, his head and chest jerking in synchronicity with the orgasmic contractions he was experiencing. All I could think about was how much I wanted that thick cock buried in my aching pussy right now. I was dying for relief, having never been stimulated so intensely for so long. Even Jasmine’s erotic massage hadn’t gotten me this worked up.

I was desperately hoping it would be my turn next, but it was not to be. In fact, I would have to wait until the very end for my turn. One by one, each guest received personal treatment under the table while everyone watched in wonder and unrequited lust. Some took only a few minutes to reach orgasm while others took a little longer. Nobody held out for more than fifteen minutes or so. The turn-on of having eight strangers watching them as they had their erogenous zones stimulated, together with the mystery of not knowing what to expect under the table, was simply impossible to resist. Everybody eventually experienced a strong and explosive orgasm.

Some remained fairly motionless in their chairs as they were being serviced, while others thrashed and hopped about in their seats. It seemed as if some patrons were receiving oral stimulation, while others were being literally fucked under the table—though it was hard to imagine how that could be accomplished in the tight spaces under each chair.

I particularly enjoyed watching the other women being serviced. Within a minute or so after beginning their massages, the once demure ladies had thrown open their robes and flung them on the floor to provide easier viewing—and access—to their entire body. I loved watching as their breasts swayed and their skin progressively flushed as their passion mounted and crested. Beyond their telltale cries of ecstasy, I could always tell when they reached orgasm by how the skin on their chest suddenly darkened, then slowly faded along with the tumescence of their engorged nipples.

This Fantasy Feast was definitely on to something. It was true that being able to focus on every sensation in this way, unencumbered by the needs of an active sexual partner, was far more erotic and liberating than straight sex. In our detached and voyeuristic seating positions, all of our other sensations could be super-stimulated.

I could literally smell the bodily fluids and scented oils flowing from every person. I could see every nuanced movement and expression in their faces as they enjoyed their erotic journey. And of course, I could hear their telltale moans of ecstasy, recognizing whenever something changed under the table. Even my sense of taste was stimulated from the mouthwatering flavors and textures of each meal course laid out at my place setting.

Of course, the best sensation—touch—would have to wait. Which made it all the more tantalizing and enjoyable when it finally happened.

When the last guest before me had finally come down from her high, the anticipation was almost killing me. I was burning with desire like never before. I hoped that I might be able to make my turn last a little longer; I wanted to savor every pleasurable moment. But I knew it would be almost impossible to make it last very long with so much pent-up tension. I glanced at Blair and she simply gave me a knowing smile as if to say: ‘just lose yourself in the moment and let it happen.’

I felt some movement under the table in the vicinity of my chair. I parted my legs to invite whoever was there to do as they pleased. Was it too much to hope for my beautiful masseuse Jasmine to finish what she started? She had left me with a cryptic smile. I never actually saw anyone go under or emerge from under the table the whole time. Maybe there was some kind of trap door in the floor to permit easy access to each guest’s open chair? It didn’t really matter, of course. The whole mystery of who was under the table administering to me simply added to the excitement and eroticism of the moment.

Then the mystery suddenly became clearer. A pair of petite hands began caressing my thighs. The touch was familiar. The motion of the hands, the subtle pressure of the fingertips, the way they floated upward toward my vulva was undeniable. This had to be Jasmine! I spread my legs far apart, fully exposing my pussy, practically begging her to fuck me. Or suck me. Or do whatever she pleased with me. I was totally at her mercy, and she knew it.

But she was in no hurry. As with my previous massage, she teased and caressed my thighs with the lightest touch of her fingertips, stroking them up and down my inner thighs. I wanted to cry out “fuck me, Jasmine!”

I could feel her move closer to me as her torso spread my legs further apart. Her hands shifted to the sides of my hips and I felt something touch my vulva. It was soft and round and firm, and it was rubbing softly up and down against my wet twat.

It was her breast! Her gorgeous, perfect, plump, natural breast. She was tribbing me with her breast! My gushing juices coated her skin with a natural lubricant as she pushed up and slid against me. I swear I could feel her erect nipple penetrate me as she thrust rhythmically against me. The combination of the fucking action with the stimulation of her nipple against my clit could easily have brought me to orgasm in less than a minute, but this was obviously not the way she wanted to finish me.

She backed away slowly and I felt her long hair move down lower on my belly and thighs. She began kissing my bald mound that she had so perfectly groomed earlier. I was in utter heaven as I closed my eyes and lost myself in the reality of being kissed by this beauty.

Her hands slowly moved from my hips and began exploring the inside of my thighs as her kisses moved lower and lower toward my nerve center. She kissed around and above and on top of my clit, coming ever so close, but never quite touching me directly. This wasn’t like so many fumbling men I’d had who couldn’t find my clit for the life of them. This was an expert sensualist who knew exactly how—and where—to tease and please me.

When her lips finally landed on my clit, I almost leaped out of my chair. She surrounded my swollen nub with her full mouth and pursed her lips. The idea of being sucked off by this gorgeous vixen was too much. I groaned uncontrollably and spasmed a mini-orgasm.

But this was only the beginning. Jasmine was obviously far too experienced and practiced to let me off so quickly and so lightly. With my clit still embedded within her lips, she extended her tongue and began swirling it in slow and sensuous movements along the shaft and underside.

Meanwhile, her lips bobbed softly up and down my swollen shaft. If this is what it’s like for a man to get a blowjob, I can see why some of the other guests were being driven crazy earlier. Had they gotten similar treatment from Jasmine, or from someone else?

It didn’t matter, because for now at least, Jasmine was all mine. I desperately wanted to move my hands under the table and hold her beautiful head while she licked me. I wanted to let her know how much I was enjoying her caresses and feel her soft brown hair flowing in my hands.

My passion rose inexorably as I tried to hold off coming. I wanted to savor this moment as long as I could. This was the first time I’d been intimate with a woman, and I wanted to savor it as long as I could.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more intense, I felt Jasmine’s right hand move to my opening, and she slowly inserted three fingers deep into my vagina. God, I had desperately needed to be fucked, and now this divine creature was answering my prayers.

She began thrusting firmly as she continued sucking and licking my clitoris in a way no one had ever done before. Then she curled her fingers upward and began stroking my G-spot in a come-hither motion that took me to an entirely new level.

I was writhing and thrusting in my chair now, taking everything Jasmine was giving me. I pushed down in my chair wanting more. I wanted my pussy filled up and fucked while I fucked her beautiful mouth with my burning pussy. As if sensing my need, Jasmine inserted her fourth finger inside me and pushed her hand further up inside. I was bucking wildly now and pushing harder and harder against her hand and her mouth. She pressed further until I felt the knuckles of her petite hand slide all the way inside me. She was fucking me with her whole fist!

I threw my head back and grunted like a wild boar. I no longer wanted her gentle touch. I wanted her to ram her fist into me and suck on my swollen button while I flooded her mouth with my erotic juices. I could feel my orgasm building, but I fought it. This was too good. I just wanted another minute in symbiotic union with this beautiful woman.

Jasmine must have sensed what I was up to, because what she did next sent me over the edge. She reached underneath me with her other hand, now thoroughly oiled with my juices running down my legs, and began circling my anus with her middle finger. This was something else I’d never experienced. Far from being dirty or disgusting, it raised my passion to an entirely new level.

I could tell from Jasmine’s delicate touching of my rosebud that she wasn’t sure if I wanted to be touched there, but I soon answered her question. I pushed my ass down hard in my chair, pushing the tip of her finger into my opening. Sensing my newfound inhibition, Jasmine slowly worked her finger deeper into my rosebud until it was just past the second knuckle.

My Gawd! The feeling of being fucked on two ends, with my clitoris being sucked and flicked was simply too much. My orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave. I screamed Jasmine’s name at the top of my lungs while I pushed my entire vulva as hard as I could into her face, fist, and finger. I could feel the gush of my juices exploding all over her pretty face as I squirted one after another jet of cum into her waiting mouth. My orgasm must have lasted a full minute as I had one hard contraction after another. I could actually feel my pussy and anus clamping down on Jasmine with each contraction.

As my contractions finally began to subside and eventually stop, Jasmine remained perfectly still with my clit still twitching in her mouth, her hands in my most private parts. When my breathing returned to normal and I slumped in my chair, she slowly pulled her hand and fingers from within me. It was the most delicate and intimate thing I had ever experienced. I could sense Jasmine’s connection to me, as if she were saying how she enjoyed the experience almost as much as I had.

I never felt so cherished and uplifted in my entire life. I wanted to kiss her and taste my juices in her mouth while I reciprocated with my own delicate touch. I was already thinking about how I’d like to use my private boudoir for the rest of the night…