My First Surrender: Sucking a Stranger to Pay the Debt
The club’s private lounge. Dim lights hugged dark wood panels. Heavy drapes muffled the thumping bass outside. My heart hammered as the door clicked shut behind us. Him, the owner, that silver-templed gentleman with eyes that stripped souls. And there, slouched on the banquette, Beau-Brun, nursing whiskey, smirking like he’d won the lottery.
Sweat beaded my forehead. Pierre and Marc waited out there, oblivious. I’d danced, teased, left my panties on the bed for my idiot husband. This was the debt payment. But now? Alone with these two strangers. Fear twisted in my gut, hot and slick, mixing with a pulse between my thighs. No turning back. His gaze pinned me. ‘Show him what he wants to see.’
The Approach: Pulse-Racing Pull into the Unknown
Fingers shook on my blouse buttons. One. Two. Slipping open, revealing red vinyl corset hugging my 95D tits. Beau-Brun straightened, eyes devouring. Skirt zipper rasped down. Fabric pooled at my heels. Naked pussy, stockings, garters, stilettos. Exposed. Vulnerable. Shame burned my cheeks, but my clit throbbed. Walk for them. Hips swayed involuntarily. Mirror caught me: slut on display, juices trickling inner thighs. Heart slammed ribs. This was it. Innocence cracking.
‘Give him your mouth, slut.’ Knees buckled to the carpet. His command sliced air. No escape. Trust pulled me here, blind and total. Twelve years faithful, now kneeling for a stranger’s cock. Breath hitched. Anticipation gnawed—would it taste different? Feel wrong? Right?
The Moment: Raw Lips on Forbidden Flesh
Beau-Brun stood, bulge straining pants. Unzipped slow. Out sprang his dick: thick, veined, glistening head. First unknown meat in over a decade. Pulse roared in ears. Hands crossed behind back, as ordered. He gripped it, teased my face. Cheeks. Lips. Warm precum smeared. I parted, hungry despite terror. Lips enveloped him. Salty, musky—foreign flavor exploding on tongue. Heart exploded too.
He thrust shallow at first. Then deep. Gagging me. Hands clutched my head, fucking my face. Brutal rhythm. Knees ached, jaw stretched. Spit drooled. But oh, the rush—powerless, used. His groans fueled my fire. Pussy clenched empty, soaking thighs. ‘Make him cum in one minute, or he takes you.’ Panic sparked frenzy. I devoured: sucked hard, tongue swirled, hand pumped base. ‘Fuck my throat,’ I gasped between slurps. ‘Pound my slut holes next.’ He bucked, tensed. Jets hit—hot, thick, endless. Gulped it down, every drop. First stranger’s load. Swallowed submission.
He softened, pulled out. Kissed my cheek, stumbled away. Owner helped me up. Disappointment crashed—craved more, his cock inside me. But no. Dressed shaky, mouth still thick with cum. Tasted victory and shame. Stepped back into chaos, thighs slick with my arousal. No quick toilet fuck fantasy. This was deeper. Fidelity snapped. New hunger born. Adult now, doors flung wide. Pride swelled amid the guilt. I’d return. Knew it.
