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Thomas asks Scott for a favor.
As Brad's mouth began its work on her minge, Carmen began to moan and groan, occasionally crying out "Oh for fuck's sake, no more, please, no more" but Brad was inexorable, licking and laving at her sex trench.
Gary's free hand was roving around my right breast, cupping my bra and thrusting gently with his cock as my hand worked on it. Then he kissed me softly and smiled: "There, that was fun, wasn't it?"
I broke from his kiss and looked at his extremely handsome face. "Fun for whom?" I asked.
"Why, for Carmen and me and - I hope - for Brad and you, my dear," he said in that upper-crust accent.
Then we both watched as Brad's oral attentions were now bringing Carmen to a climax. It had taken him a while to arouse her past the pain that must have been throbbing and tingling in her pussy but slowly the pleasure began to exceed the pain.
"Oh fuck, that's gorgeous Brad, tongue fuck me, tongue fuck you brute!" Carmen cried, and then she was coming on his mouth, noisily - one of the noisiest climaxes I'd ever heard.
As her sobbing ebbed, Brad stood and placed his cock against the panting woman's cunt. All pretence of master-slave roles were gone as Carmen smiled up at him with a beatific grin.
And then Brad was sliding up her cunt, thrusting, his buttocks flexing, then relaxing, flexing, relaxing, as he moved his cock up and down her sex tunnel. It took him only a minute or two to reach his own, much quieter, climax.
As his excitement peaked, Brad jerked away from Carmen's pussy and with a swift double jerk of his hand on his sex-smeared slippery shaft he shot a spray of spunk onto her beautiful brown belly, then another shorter plume, then a third, which merely dribbled from his cock head to splat onto her mons.
After both had recovered, Brad moved around the bench, unstrapping Carmen's body from her bonds. As she rose from the bench she stepped into Brad's arms and kissed him slowly on the mouth, rubbing her cum-stained belly and crotch against his.
"Thank-you, darling, what a lovely way to end a flogging," she grinned.
Then she moved to her husband where I was still seated in his lap, stroking his hard-on. "And thank-you, you darling plantation owner, where would I be without you?" she asked, planting a kiss on his mouth.
Gary laughed and told her: "A darn sight less sexually fulfilled, you hussy."
Brad joined in the laughter and announced: "Come on, time for dinner. We can work on this little piece of trash after." And he held out a hand to assist me from my seat on Gary's stiffy.
Over dinner - rare fillet steaks, green salad and another of those big Australian reds that Brad described as "a real ball tearer" - Gary discussed the politics at Cambridge, his wife spoke of similar machinations at BBC television where she worked as a presenter, Brad railed against the international laws on copyright.
For my part I repeated my stories of baseball myths. I thought I sounded shallow alongside the others but Gary, especially, seemed very interested in my New York Mets stories and was particularly keen to read up on the flawed Cub, Hack Wilson.
After clearing away the dishes, Brad announced: "And now for the dessert, gang - I present Linda and her lovely little librarian's pussy!"
I was still clad in my lingerie, the others were totally naked - you couldn't count Brad's cock-revealing shorts as a garment. Brad led the way downstairs and while Carmen and her husband snuggled up on the spectators' chair, my lovely whipmaster removed my bra and then my thong.
I stood nude, displaying my breasts and shaved pussy for the inspection by the audience.
"Lovely," said Gary, in a low murmur. "Perky young breasts, slim pussy lips, but long legs. Charming, my dear Linda."
Then I was strapped down to the X-bench.