Unlocking My Private Locker: The Threesome Birthday Slave Gift
I’ve kept this locked in my Private Locker for years. That mental vault where forbidden thrills hide. Tonight, I crack it open. The rush hits hard—heart pounding, pussy tingling. No more holding back. Sylvie’s words echo: his birthday is tonight. We’re doing this.
Sylvie picks me up after work. Paris traffic crawls. My stomach knots with heat. At her place, no time for talk. Bathroom first. She hands me a card. ‘Write this: Philippe, I’m your birthday gift. Use me as you please. Your slave for the night. Happy birthday, Aurore.’ Ink flows. My core ignites. I’m wet already, fear mixing with fire.
Opening the Vault
‘Dress down to bra and panties.’ We swap to strapless bras. Bedroom. She ties my wrists tight behind my back. Sits me on the bed edge. Kneels close—her breath on my thigh. Ankles bound. Then the gag: pink ball shoved in my mouth. Strapped secure. Drool starts. She writes her card, loops mine around my neck. Ties her own ankles. Gags herself. Cuffs her wrists behind. We wait. Eyes lock. Her beauty hits me. Black thong hides her slit. Nipples hard. Heads touch—silent promise.
Door clicks. Philippe home. Living room delay. ‘Sylvie?’ Footsteps. Panic surges. I’d run if free. Shame burns—nearly naked, tagged like meat. He enters. Freezes. Scans us. Hand under my chin, lifts. Same for her. ‘Piano fell on me. Woke in paradise.’ Steps back. Devours. Reads my card aloud. Rips it off—sting on neck. Hers next: ‘Do what you want to us, make us do it to you, or each other.’
He strips slow. Cock throbs, huge. Sits before me. Ungags. Shoves in deep. I suck hungry—salty, rigid. Best blowjob ever, hands useless. He strokes her face. Explodes in my mouth. Cum spills—chin, tits. ‘Clean her,’ he tells Sylvie. Ungagged, she licks. Tongue hot on skin, throat, lips. Swallows every drop. Gag back on. Bra off. Nipples pinched—sharp zing.
Sealing the Secret
Ankles free. Stand. Sylvie rolled to knees. ‘Remove her panties.’ Teeth grip fabric. Tugs down slow. Off. She grabs with mouth, hands him. He sits me. ‘Tell her what you said after Favela.’ Sylvie confesses: finds me hot, wants to fuck me. ‘Kiss her feet.’ Tongue traces toes, arches. Up knees. ‘Beg.’ ‘Please, let me eat your pussy. Taste you. Make you cum.’ I nod frantic.
Her tongue hits clit. Bliss. Ungagged again. I scream. His cock back in mouth. She devours—knows every spot. Orgasms crash. Waves rip me.
He frees her. They kiss fierce. She strips. Sucks him. ‘Thank her.’ Chair. He sits, she mounts reverse—rides slow. I kneel. Lick her clit as he pounds. Her hands mash my face in. She howls, cums explosive. Kisses me wild.
‘Your turn, slave.’ Face down, ass up. Slaps sting. Fucks me doggy—brutal, hips slamming. Sylvie fingers clit. I cum hard. He pulls out. Lubed cock. Anal slow, then pounds. Pain-pleasure blur. Slaps punctuate. Fills me deep. Collapses. She uncuffs. We tangle, spent.
