Dinner with Arnold

Babes

An invitation to have dinner with Arnold was a most coveted thing among a certain social set. Namely the well-to-do who had tired of the same-old, same-old dinners and parties and wanted something exciting and sexy. Arnold and his wife Griselda had pulled such a thing off to everyone’s amazement and delight. Refining formal dining and sex at the same time.

Arnold’s mansion had a formal dining room with a long table that could accommodate fourteen. Arnold would take the seat at one end and Griselda at the other.

There were six chairs along each side facing one another. The chairs were unique in one respect and that was that their seats had a cutaway channel which extended from the front that was sized to accommodate a human head. Thus while one ate and drank at the elegant table they could enjoy oral sex administered by unseen others below the table. Above the table everything appeared quite normal. Except that is for the facial expressions and utterances of those being sexually services beneath the table.

Of course this was done in complete privacy as the table cloth was large enough to be draped over everyone’s lap. In fact after all had been seated and draped the cloth would be taped to the rear of the arms of the armchair.

There of course remained the detail of having one’s sex readily available for servicing during the meal. This was taken care of after the preliminary cocktail party which enabled the woman to show off their elegant gowns. The men were required to wear tuxedos.

The oral servicing was conducted by local college students as a means of earning some quick money. Four handsome young men and four comely young college women would form a reception line in welcoming the guests. The college men would wear black pants and shoes and flowing, silk white shirts which to some made them appear to be Russian. The women would wear flowing gowns so that their privates could be readily accessed from below.

After cocktails the women would adjourn briefly to a dressing room where they panties would be collected and tagged and their pussies perfumed. The men would go to another room and exchange their tux pants and underpants for aprons and then their cocks and balls sprayed with cologne.

Back to the cocktail lounge all would go to await the diner gong. Upon hearing it sound the men would escort their ladies into the elegant dining room where a harpist would be playing soft heavenly music.

Then came the decision as to whether sit side by side or sit facing each other. This was a very personal decision. Would one want to be facing their spouse or escort as they were orally serviced or face another guest? And would that guest be of the same gender or not?

And there was yet another decision to be made. Would one want a small bell to ring to summons an underling to his or her crotch, or not and leave it to chance?

Decisions; decisions.

“Would you be wishing a bell this evening madam?” All of course would be watching for the lady’s answer.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

“Not this evening. I just adore surprises.”

“Of course, madam.”

– – – – – – – – –

“Good evening, Grace. My but don’t you look ravaging this evening.”

“Why thank you, Jezelda. I adore your hairstyle. I know which issue of Women’s Wear Daily you’ve been reading.”

“Oh my,” says Arnold. “It’s a shame as host I must be above . . . above board at the table.”

“You devil you,” she replies delighted as she gives his cheek a little pat.

“Here are our young offerings for this evening,” he replied as he waved an arm inviting her to pass through the gauntlet of young college men and women who will be eating her this evening as she ate her meal.

“Good evening, my lady,” said a handsome nineteen year old as he bowed and kissed her hand.

“Good evening, my lady,” said his female counterpart to her other side as she made a full curtsey with a little, all-knowing, coy smile.

And so it went as the guests arrived and were greeted with acclaim and then proceeded through the reception line of handsome college men and woman who would make such delightful remarks such as “what a delight it will be for me to service you this evening,” and “I am so looking forward to see more of you,” and “I do hope that you enjoy your meal beneath the table half as much as the one above.”

How wonderful it was to be invited to dinner with Arnold.

The cocktail party lasted but a half-hour as everyone mingled and made small talk. The handsome and wholesome college kids lined a wall and went tit for tat with guests would drift over. Most couldn’t resist. Indeed it was hard to maintain the small talk as everyone eyed the young college students and wondered which would be attending to them and if they would even learn.

“You simply must come visit me this evening, good looking.”

“It will be my pleasure. Do you have any special requests?”

“Oh I will leave that up to you.”

“And what are you majoring in, Sweetie Pie?”

“Academics, you know.”

“Well I hope you will be academicing me, if you get my drift.”

“I’ll güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri bone up for you.”

“Wonderful. But how will I know it’s you, gorgeous?”

“How about my saying nice boner? A size six!”

“Perfect.”

Ding – ding.

“Shall we proceed, folks? Ladies this way and gentlemen that way if you would.”

– – – – – – – –

Just five minutes later they had re-gathered. The women looked the same as before but the men didn’t quite. They still wore their tuxedoes but their pants had been exchanged for large, wraparound black aprons. Indeed, they could have been confused with the house servants that would be servicing them above the table.

The seating went smoothly. Everyone had already decided if they wanted to sit facing their spouse or date to see their facial expressions or wanted to sit side by side and see the others. Two couples chose to take seats facing each other while four chose to sit side by side. The choices made were telling in of themselves.

White wine was served followed by a toast by Arnold who congratulated all on their being open to new ideas and cultural adventures. Then out came platters of raw oysters on the half shell with a dozen Blue Points being served to each on a bed of ice. Each also had two dips into which the oysters could be dunked and a half lemon in a porous sheath.

“Delicious.”

“Superb.”

“I adore Blue Points,” said one lady as she held up the shell. Just as the slippery crustacean slithered down her throat she gasp as she felt a head rise up between her thighs and a tongue make for her clitoris.

“Oh yes,” she smiled as she laid the vacant shell down and felt the tongue lapping away.

Dong dong.

You see the men had a bell on the floor beside their chair to use in summoning one of the college kids over to him for servicing. The women did too, but theirs was a smaller tinkle bell.

The man had become aroused in watching the oyster slither its way down the refined woman’s throat and then in seeing her gasp. Not only that, but he wanted to be the gentlemen to led the way and kick things over. He wanted to be a leader among men.

He over-smiled as he felt the fine hair of a girl’s head as she began to lick his thighs. But to show off he continued on with his dining as if nothing was afoot.

As he held his next raw oyster and shell up to his mouth, all eyes were on him. As the oyster slithered into his mouth his cock slithered into the mouth of the co-ed beneath the table.

As the raw oyster slithered down his throat his cock slithered down the unseen young woman’s throat.

What timing! One would have thought that there was a director somewhere in a pit directing things.

In fact there was only that soft heavenly music of the harpist.

Quickly the gentlemen scrambled for another oyster. Not taking the time to dip it in a sauce he held the shell up to his mouth. But then he paused. The young lady down below was now throat-fucking him.

With the oyster shell still held up to his mouth he started to buck his hips. He couldn’t help it. Damn it he wanted to show that he had control of the situation.

With his hips involuntarily humping he raised the shell and let the oyster slither in. But it didn’t stop in his mouth. No it slithered straight into his throat as his cock went crazy with lust.

All watched in amazement as the lump in the man’s throat descended only to stop, waiver and start to rise. You see his head was still raised which presented his throat for all to see.

Hump hump. Up and down went the oyster. Would he upchuck it? Or would he upchuck his cum first into the unseen girl’s throat down below?

What if his oyster went down into his stomach at the same time as the oyster from his balls went down into the girl’s throat? Would that make a Guinness world record?

No need to worry about that for the crustacean went down first.

Now his hips humped and pumped as the man took hold of the table edge and rolled his head back as he came to a climax.

Ding ding. Ding ding. Ding ding.

Up and down the table the refined ladies were demanding service.

Service! Ding ding.

Down below the college kids were busy crawling over.

“How do you like the oysters, dear,” ask Arnold from the head of the table.

“You can always count on Blue Points.”

Then all heard her own tinkle bell ring.

Down below the girl who had said she would let her male guest know when she was servicing him was heard to acclaim: “ah; a number six.”

The man smiled proudly.

Then another girl’s voice was heard to announce: “ah; a size seven.”

To round off the conspiracy another there beneath Arnold proclaimed: “My God; a size eight!!”

The size- six man no longer smiled as several guests chuckled. He’d been hoodwinked and outsized.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

A cup of warm celery cream soup was next served. The kids down below had conspired to be cock and pussy teasers during this course. So as the guest made small talk while sipping their wines and güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri soups, heads and bodies were seen to jolt slightly as a male or female head rose between things and licked.

Tongues would make their way upward, only to retreat. Some now were licking balls and others around but not directly on clics.

It was madding.

“Please,” said one lady.

“The salt,” inquired the man next to her.

“No. My pussy; damn it.”

Chuckles were heard from both above and below the table.

“There are rodents down below. Teasing rodents.”

One man though felt a young co-ed’s lips encircle his knob as he put a spoonful of the creamed soup to his lips. He paused and smiled. Then his mouth and eyes opened wide as he felt her mouth encase his cock as her fingers cupped his hairy balls.

The guests looked at him as if he had turned to a pillow of salt. He looked spellbound and frozen with his hand still holding the spoon of soup in front of his mouth.

Down south the girl started pumping her head rapidly with the cock entering and exiting the upper part of her throat.

All saw the man’s breathing quicken and his hand-held spoon start to shake.

Yes, he too was on his way. The young lady would soon have her milkshake, by damn.

Nope.

In a flash the co-ed abruptly stopped and withdrew to smile at her conspirators down below.

All saw the man suddenly looked perplexed and bewildered. Que pasa?

Then guests smiled as they saw him try to recover and continue on sipping his soup as if nothing had happened. Nothing had cum to pass.

But the ladies were not to be left out of the fun. Two were facing each other and gossiping about some bitch when each felt a male head rise up between their thighs and begin licking.

“Have you heard that . . . that.”

“Oh God. Oh sweet God Almighty.”

“You mean that she . . . she . . .”

“Oh my.”

Both young men were now on final approach as their licking of one thigh followed by another, made maddeningly slow advances.

Both ladies saw what was happening to the other. But they weren’t along. The other guests paused in their sipping of soup as they looked on.

But the ladies were bent on not giving in to the other’s smearing looks. As one would struggle to utter more gossip the other would sip her soup as she looked her in the eye.

Then they would reverse. The gossip about that bitch had now of course turned into staggered bits of nonsense. But they kept on trying as the others were finishing their soup. You see, down below the kids were so well organized that they knew when to stop and leave one unfulfilled.

With a hand-pat signal both male’s tongue below reached their targets. Tongues began to work clics in harmony. This brought the gossiping to an end.

The two ladies were eye-to-eye now as they sipped their warm creamy soup between gasps for air. By damn if one was going to give in to the other and climax.

Arnold smiled at his wife at the far end of the table. She returned his knowing smile with a wink.

All could see both women begin their upward paths to climax as their mouths opened wide and they no longer made any attempt at sipping soup, yey didn’t have the ability under these circumstances to lay down their spoons. No; both were still holding them aloft.

And just like that, nothing. With a hand-pat signal both young men below broke off their engagements.

It’s always distressful to have an engagement broken. So unsatisfying.

Now lowering their spoons the two ladies looked at each other and then up and down at all the guests would were frozen in place.

Ding – ding. Ding – ding.

Ding – ding. Ding – ding.

But alas it was a house servant who answered the call.

“Are you finished, madam?”

“Finished? Are you crazy? No, I’m not finished, you fool.”

“I meant with the soup, madam.”

The college kids down below had to struggle not to laugh aloud.

They too were having their fun.

– – – – – – – – –

Next came the entries. This evening they were German. In the center of each plate was a knackwurst in a fresh, natural casing of a size and shape of a male cock with a hard on. Beneath one end of the crescent shaped wiener were two, testicle-size red potatoes. Sauerkraut lay at the base of the knackwurst cock about the testicle- potatoes like pubic hair.

From the knackwurst cock head flowed a stream of mustard which ended in a dipping pool.

As a touch of added refinement, an annular groove was cut near the end of the wiener distal the mushroom balls.

A fine Burgundy red wine had replaced the white.

“Why I think I recognize Walter here,” said one woman with a laugh as she smiled at her husband.

“So do I,” said another, who was not his spouse.

More laughter.

“I hope you have take-home boxes,” added another.

Ah; diner at Arnold’s.

And for the entries there would be no teasing or letup from down below. No, entries were to be entries both above and below the table. The main events.

“How güvenilir bahis şirketleri do you like the cock, Edith,” asked Arnold.

“Quite enticing. But I would like some Grey Poupon.”

“And Alice, dear. How are the balls?”

“Quite nice and red. But shouldn’t they be shriveled?”

“Good point. I’ll ask the chef. But he can be so touchee.”

“Oooo. Oouuuu,” plead the hostess at the far end. “Is that you young Henry?”

There could only be a muffled response heard.

“Henry?”

“No it Gregory, ma’am.”

“Nice touch, Gregory. OOOOH. OOuuuuuuuu. Aaaaa.”

“Oh my.”

Just as one of the gentleman cut into his wiener right in the groove, he jerked. Something obviously had taken hold of his other wiener at about the same local.

He jolted again as he felt his entire cock become encapsulated in feminine warmth.

He sliced too hard which sent his wiener cockhead sliding off his plate and onto the plate of the lady seated to his side.

“Ralph; your cock head just popped in unannounced. When I’ll want your cock I’ll let you know.”

“Ha ha.”

“Do you have my phone number?”

That brought a few laughs. But Ralph didn’t respond. Now he was feeling the head and hair of a co-ed in his crotch who was face fucking him so hard that her mouth and nose were striking him and his pubic hair.

Ralph started panting and moving about in his chair. Then the lady to his side presented his severed wiener cock head to him, holding it daintily by her thumb and forefinger.

“Good God Almighty, woman. Can’t you see I’m . . .”

She cut him off by flipping it into his open mouth.

The face fucking continued down below without let up as Ralph struggled not to swallow his wiener cockhead while his own personal cockhead was going in and out of the throat below.

“Would you like some mustard, Ralph,” asked the lady who had done the flipping. “It’s Grey Poupon, you know.”

Ralph’s response to that quaint inquiry was to spit the wiener cockhead into the table centerpiece of flowers as he spewed forth cum down below.

“Ralph,” said his wife who was seated across from him. “One does not spit one’s cockheads at the dinner table.”

“Sorry, honey,” he replied as he sank down into his chair expecting the young lady now to withdraw. But she didn’t. Somehow she managed to retain his joint in her mouth as it withered some.

He reached down underneath the table cloth and took hold of her head. In this position though he didn’t have much leverage.

As he tried to push her off she wrapped her arms and hand around his back and held on. Guests seated nearby could see her forearms as they wrapped about him.

A struggle ensued. As he tried to push her away and off his manhood she resisted. The guests could now see a tug of war going on.

“Enough,” he whispered.

“Enough? Don’t tell me you are already finished,” asked Arnold. “The wiener is Bavarian, you know.”

Ralph gave up and raised himself back up in his seat as the co-ed continued to keep his spent ding dong in her mouth. She was acting as a savings bank. Early withdrawal would come with a penalty.

What feminine fortitude.

Ralph picked up his glass of red wine as all looked on. He discovered that sweat had formed on his forehead. He had managed only to take one sip before the creature from the deep started in again, face fucking.

Under everyone’s gaze he tried to ignore the attack and sip more wine. But then he felt himself start to harden again. So did the young lady down below as his cock swelled.

“Have you tried the sauerkraut, honey,” asked his wife with a knowing smirk.

Without attempting to frame a response he put his fork to it and took a bit.

“Very nice.”

A muffled response could be heard coming from down under.

He took another bit.

Now the co-ed was massaging his balls as she began to throat his re-hardened cock.

He couldn’t help but to respond by jerking his hips.

“I see you decided to have more, honey. And I don’t mean the kraut.”

“Screw you, Kate,” he responded as he took a death grip on the arms of his chair and began to thrust unabatedly.

“My but Ralph does enjoy the sauerkraut,” said the hostess. “I’ll certainly have to tell chef.”

And again all served witness to seeing Ralph explode into the throat of the young lady down below.

Fortunately, it was an underground explosion with no atmospheric fallout for then it was time for dessert.

– – – – – –

Cherries Jubilee. The lights were dimmed and the harpist took a break.

In marched the house servants with sparklers a- sparkling. It was so impressive that few noticed the sly departure of the co-eds. The men had had their fun and now it was time for the fair sex to have theirs. To have their extra desserts.

Well, not exactly.

The four male students beneath the table found that with the departure of their female counterparts that they now had space to roam and romp. After all there were seven pussies to service as their owners ate their cherry jubilees.

So much choice.

So little time.

Half of the cherry jubilees went beside the host and hostess where they were flambéed. After serving the host and hostess each servant made it way done one aisle of diners scooping out individual portions as the sparklers sparkled on.

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