Dinner at home. I would have much preferred to be out at one of my favourite restaurants (Scott's in Mayfair, J Sheekey in Soho, Norma in Fitzrovia...sigh!), but disappointment was an integral part of lockdown that I'd learned to live with. Okay, so I was bending the rules slightly tonight, but to be fair, the man I'd be spending tonight with was in my bubble. My personal slave, Paul, had come to serve me on what was meant to be the most romantic night of the year...St Valentine's Day. He arrived at the door looking relatively well-groomed, though I must say that dress sense was never one of his fortes. I greeted him, unable to suppress the disillusionment in my voice as I accepted his gift of a dozen red roses, and allowed him to come in. Now Slave Paul did have his uses at times but unfortunately he was rather dull to converse with. It was going to be a long night...
Paul knew where to put his coat, so he went off to hang it up while I put the roses in a vase on the dining room table. I sat down at the table and tried very hard not to shake my head at what Paul was wearing...a turquoise and orange checked shirt, mustard V-neck jumper, lime green trousers and a red bow tie.
“The circus must be missing one of their performers tonight.” The jibe escaped my mouth.
“Sorry Mistress?” I sighed as he really didn't get it. Well, as long as he didn't start going on about one of those damn conspiracy theories he subscribed to, then I guess I might maintain my sanity through the course of the night. “I've ordered your favourite dish from one of the top restaurants that offers takeaway...seafood linguine.” Oh well, at least he'd got that right. “It's going to be here in five minutes.” Great. I was hungry. But I wasn't just hungry for food.
We sat around the dinner table while Slave Paul served me with my favourite Dom Perignon champagne. He was making the effort, and I should try not to be too bad-tempered with him I thought...just as he knocked over one of my favourite champagne glasses, sending it crashing to the ground...then catching the bottle with his elbow, sending that flying too, the champagne spilling all over the dining room floor.
“I'm so sorry Mistress! I'll clean it up immediately!”
Just at that moment, the doorbell rang. Slave Paul started to get up to answer it, but I yelled at him, “Keep cleaning that mess up you useless, pathetic dickhead. I'll answer the door.”
I trotted to the door in my peep toe Louboutins thinking my perfectly coiffed blonde hair, black satin evening dress and the black vintage lingerie and fully fashioned nylons I had on were wasted this evening. But when I opened the door to a Latin stallion, I suddenly reconsidered my opinion.
“Your dinner Madame,” he said smiling and presenting me with a carrier bag of hot food, his warm face with gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes and tanned skin getting me a little wet...but oh my...he had a body to die for! Muscular, about ten years my junior, and about a foot taller than me.
“Come in!” I insisted, “I must give you your tip!” The hot Italian delivery guy needed not be asked a second time.
He followed me across the living room to the dining room, where I'd put my purse, looking Adonis-like in his leather jacket, black jeans and biker boots. He caught sight of Slave Paul and looked at me quizzically. “Oh, ignore that pitiful creature,” I said dismissively. The stallion sneered at Pathetic Paul as he was putting the last bits of broken glass in the rubbish.
“Madame, you really deserve champagne on a night like this. I have been keeping this bottle in my bag tonight, waiting to see a beautiful woman like you...and here you are,” he melted me with his lilting Italian accent, and when he suddenly produced a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon, I gave a little gasp.
“Do sit down....?”
“Alessio,” said the delivery guy, sitting down in the chair that Slave Paul had been sitting in.
“Slave Paul. Serve Alessio right now. Get him a new champagne glass and fill our glasses. Don't you dare make a clumsy fool out of yourself again!”
“Yes Mistress.” Slave Paul dutifully served the attractive pair of us.
“Oh you are a Mistress! I love strong dominant women...a real turn-on for me,” flirted Alessio. I really didn't mind him flirting at all.
“M-m-may I sit down at the table with you Mistress?” a woeful whine went.
“Absolutely not you inadequate excuse for a man! Stand in the corner of the dining room...and face us. I want you to watch us.” I winked at Alessio, and I knew that he had cottoned on to what I wanted...him! With a last sip of champagne, the food was abruptly forgotten as another type of hunger entirely was overriding that.
“Alessio. Come and fuck me now.” I knew that Slave Paul would be twitching away painfully in his cock cage at the sound of those words and I intended to make him watch every moment of my encounter with the Bull. Alessio stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. He began to kiss me passionately. Now I was tingling all over, so I began to undress Alessio...or more like tear off his clothes in fact...such was my frenzied passion. I ran my fingers through his lustrous dark hair as I taunted Slave Paul. “Real men get to fuck me on Valentine's Day...pathetic losers can only stand and watch in the corner.”
This was always going to be a fast and furious fuck, but one that was so deeply satisfying. I was incredibly horny as I sat myself on the dining room table, hitching up my dress while Alessio the Bull pulled my knickers to the side and began to tongue my clit, licking it with long, expert strokes. I glanced momentarily at Slave Paul, who was watching intently, a slight damp patch now appearing in the groin of those awful green trousers. I gripped Alessio's head, pushing it into my cunt as his tongue strokes got more rapid....driving me to an insanely powerful orgasm. Slave Paul looked alarmed as he had not seen me crying out like that before.
“I need your dick so badly Alessio,” I demanded, with an urgency unheard of by Slave Paul's ears before. Alessio still had a pair of briefs on, although there was a mighty bulge inside it. He pulled them down to unleash a real nine inch beast of a cock. I was almost drooling as Alessio slipped a condom on. I spun around and bent myself forwards over the table, dress still riding up to reveal my suspender straps and stocking tops. My cunt was already dripping from cumming as Alessio slid in his big, girthy cock and gave me the fucking I knew I fully deserved on Valentine's Day...all while I looked Slave Paul in the eye and revelled in the torment and sexual frustration he was experiencing watching his Mistress get pleasured by this Latin sensation. I lay across the table lapping up every stroke of his hot dick until I came again, harder this time, as he shot his load inside me at the same time. That wet patch on Slave Paul's trousers had got bigger and bigger...
“Madame, I must go now.” All good things must come to an end, so I was happy to see Alessio off at the door to attend to his further delivery rounds this evening. At least we both parted with smiles on our faces, which is the least that could be said for Slave Paul, who was now a trembling mess.
I straightened down my dress and beckoned Slave Paul to the table. The linguine was still warm so I quickly grabbed some cutlery to sit down. “Don't worry Slave Paul, I've got something yummy for you,” and with that I whipped out the condom that Alessio had used on me, tied with a knot and full to the knot with an enormous cumload. “I don't think you're going to need a knife and fork,” I said as I untied the knot and tipped the whole gloopy white load down his throat in one go. Slave Paul gulped.
“Off you go slave, you are dispensed,” I ordered as Slave Paul picked up his jacket and left me in peace at last with the Valentine's dinner I really wanted with just my own delectable company to enjoy.
This amazing piece of work was written by Lady Phoenix , London based Dominatrix, as part of our special Valentine's blog swap. Make sure to head over to her blog to read my Valentine themed seductive story!
my my own delectable company to enjoy.