Not Zalah, to her disappointment

Folding his arms over his bulging abdomen, Tymon surveyed the room from left to right. In making his decision, the slow, brooding selection added an element of stagecraft to the proceedings, and the low hush in the room reflected the sense of anticipation.

‘So many familiar faces,’ intoned Tymon finally. ‘And not only familiar faces, but familiar tits, familiar pussies, and familiar mouths that suckle my cock tonight. We few, we happy few, partake in the sort of enjoyment that proclaims us as elite.’

The lights dimmed as he spoke. By now, Tymon’s cock had reached full hardness. It jutted out in front of him at a right angle. It was huge, certainly the biggest Zalah had ever seen on a man. Her best guess was that it was somewhere between 12 and fourteen inches. The head, a huge, angry looking, bell-shaped hunk of meat, was wreathed in the accumulated saliva of the two-dozen women, which slid gently to the floor in a gooey rope as he continued.

‘There is a new one among us tonight, a member who looks to be a worthy addition to our ranks. Perrima, will you introduce your companion?’

Perrima nodded, and gestured to her friend. ‘This is Zalah. She seeks entrance to our conclave. I will vouch for her membership. She is ready to abide by our only law: from each according their ability, to each according to their need.’

‘The time will come to see if she has ability,” said Tymon. ‘And for full elevation to our institution, she will have to be initiated. But that will happen later in the proceedings. Until that takes place, she will be precluded from the first event in this evening’s programme.’

At this, Zalah sat back and crossed her arms, mumbling about it being, ‘not fair…’ and ‘why shouldn’t I have a taste of cock exactly as and when I want one?’

Sensing her discontent, Tymon extended a conciliatory arm in her direction. ‘She will, of course, be able to help herself unstintingly to the meagre hospitality offered by this house…’

At this, an especially handsome waiter moved to her side, proffering an extremely rigid and heavily veined cock to her, centimetres from her face. With his thick pole pointing at her, the waiter held his arms out in a gesture of invitation.

Zalah looked from the long, thick cock, engorged, and visibly seething in front of her, pulsing with expectancy, and back to Tymon.

‘What a generous gesture,’ she said to the stage.

And then, turning towards the cock, she spread her lips as wide as they could go with a sloppy, wet sound and engulfed the huge pole in one fluid motion, the thick tube vanishing into her mouth. Sucking the vein-corded cum-tube as hard as she could, all the while working her tongue around the shaft with her nimble tongue, she made the waiter gasp with delight.

Zalah came up for air about six or seven seconds later, sat back and said to the waiter, ‘now what do you think about that?’

His response came quickly. A hot gush of cum jetted instantly from the cockend, expelled at **** into her face, splattering her gorgeous, glinting, lascivious eyes closed. Further spurts from the thick white fluid arched upwards in rich, pearly strings, almost all of which landed in her golden blonde hair. Finally losing control, grabbing his dick and jerking it with wild abandon, the waiter succeeded in coaxing out three or four more volleys of balljuice that splattered in heavy ropes across Zalah’s tits, audibly smacking against her flesh. Zalah cupped her huge boobs with her hands and jiggled them up and down, smooching them together.

'Now that's what I call service,' she said.
'Gods,' said Perrima. 'You could destroy armies with that mouth,'
'I have,' said Zalah.

As the cum slid down her face and boobs and hung in sticky ribbons from her hair, glinting in the dim light, Zalah returned her gaze to Tymon.

‘Do proceed,’ she said.

‘As you wish,’ Tymon responded. ‘Tonight’s first entertainment shall consist of me inviting Zoelle onstage with me tonight.’

There was a polite patter of applause from the assemblage, which didn’t really hide the underlying groans of disappointment from some of the patrons. A woman from a table on the other side of the room rose and walked to the stage.

The first thing Zalah noticed was a shock of blonde hair that cascaded all the way down Zoelle's back, ending at the top of a magnificently perky and muscular set of asscheeks that looked like a honey-coloured, juicy giant peach. They were separated by a black g-string that was, literally, nothing more than a string, hanging high over her hips and diving into her loins. Her legs were long and slender, incredibly so, which, with the benefit of a pair of six inch heels, complete with winding black straps that latticed all the way up her calves, made her very tall indeed.

As she turned towards the stage Zalah got a glimpse of Zoelle's front. There were a pair of huge tits, easily as big as her own, jutting proudly from her chest. The expansive golden mounds protruded so monstrously from her tight torso that it made the woman seem almost unbalanced. Each nipple had a small black patch covering it in the shape of an X, with the rest of the marvellous globes left completely uncovered.

She also wore a pair of small black leather gloves with holes decorously cut into them, leaving the fingers open, which Zalah noticed as Tymon took her by the hand and led her onstage.

Zoelle knelt in front of Tymon.