Cake and Cock

I never quite seem to know what date it is so it’s very helpful when Facebook prompts you about someone’s birthday. In this case, it’s a close friend and I’d already remembered to send a card.

But sending the card didn’t prompt my memory of her birthday last year quite as clearly as that Facebook reminder. That was the night I discovered all the slutty fun you can have at the Barbican.

My friend was just about to move into a flat there so we all met in one of the bars for drinks before heading across to her new place together so we didn’t get lost in that confusing lay out.

As soon as we reached her flat, I told my friends I’d left my bank card in the bar and was nipping back to get it. In fact I was meeting a French guy in the bar to take him into the toilets and suck his cock on my Master’s orders.

I recognised him as I walked past and went to the toilets. I’d told him what I wearing and I knew he recognised me from my description. I texted him and told him which cubicle I was in and waited on my hands and knees for him.

He knocked and realised as he did that the door was slightly open. As soon as he came into the cubicle, he locked it behind him and lent against the door as I undid his flies. I’d already seen his cock on a picture he’d sent earlier and I was looking forward to having it in my mouth.

I love that feeling when you put a hard smooth cock in your mouth and still feel it get harder as your lips slide up and down it. That little twitch goes straight to my cunt every time and as I was wearing a pair of jiggle balls it had even more effect.

Kneeling in front of him in fishnets and a pencil skirt, him with his hands in my hair (it’s so odd thinking back to before I started wearing a wig) I sucked his cock until he came in my mouth.

He let himself out of the cubicle and went back to the seat where he’d left his drink while I checked to make sure I hadn’t destroyed my eyeliner. Then I walked out into the bar, kissed him on the lips, tasting of him and left without exchanging a word.

I texted my Master as I walked back to my friend’s flat and told him how wet the whole experience had made me. He told me to go into the bathroom at my friend’s flat and make myself come with four fingers inside me and not to make a noise.

The only noise I wanted to make was a thank you for that unbelievable orgasm while the noise of a party went on around me but the second I walked out the door, a cocktail and some cake was shoved into my hands and I couldn’t get to my phone to message my thanks for ages.

Instead I stood and chatted with old friends with the taste of come and gin on my lips and hopefully not too guilty (or self satisfied) a look on my face, very aware that I was still soaking wet and incredibly turned on.

When I did get to my phone finally, I discovered I’d missed the chance to meet up with someone else whose cock I could have sucked and come while I did it. That was definitely the night I realised I was completely my Master’s submissive slut…

 

Cake and Cock

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