“You’ll leave if I eat?” I asked, to be sure we were clear.
“If you eat the meal we have for you, then ask us to leave, we’ll leave,” he repeated with what I considered unneeded detail.
“All right, I’ll eat your meal, but then you are all leaving,” I confirmed as I began to eat the salad.
Jeff’s hands remained on my shoulders, resting there lightly as I chewed. I wasn’t aware when they started to move until his fingers caressed the bare skin of my upper arms, just below the cap sleeve of my t-shirt. I knew this was the start of the challenge, and I began to get a little excited by it.
When the salad was finished, all three of the others moved to the table. One took away the salad plate, another set a covered dish in front of me, and the third moved across from me and suddenly disappeared under the table.
I started to rise and push back my chair, but with Jeff at my shoulders, I didn’t get far,
“Relax. He’s just going to massage your feet. You must be on them all day,” Jeff whispered seductively into my ear.
I nodded and remained where I was and in a moment my foot was lifted, the aerobics shoe removed, and a very pleasant rub-down began. I relaxed and looked at the plate in front of me. One of my favorite entrees from the Fresh Bistro was sitting there, along with two of my favorite sides. Someone really had been stalking me!
As I chewed my first bite, Jeff stroked his fingertips along my neck, drawing my slightly damp hair back from my shoulder. His finger came back to sweep across my brow and move a few stray strands behind my ear. From there his finger trailed back down my neck and to my collar bone. I raised a hand to put it over, to stop its progress. He leaned in to speak into my ear.
“Are you refusing the challenge, then?” He whispered, before nibbling my earlobe between his lips and feathering it with his tongue.
I was always the one who shrank back from dares and challenges when I was a kid, but as an adult, after I got in shape, I made it a point not to back down from challenges.
That’s how I was co-owner of a successful gym at age 27, and how I’d managed to finish two half-marathons and a full marathon in the past two years. Somehow, he knew the buttons to push. I let go of his hand and steadfastly ignored his warm mouth on my earlobe, hoping he didn’t notice the goosebumps that it caused.
The man under the table had started on my other foot. I had to admit it was nice to be pampered like this! As I ate, someone refilled my half empty wine glass and Jeff continued to lick my ear and caress my collarbone. It felt nice, but I was able to ignore the blatant sensuality of it pretty well.
That is, until the man under the table suddenly licked the inside of my knee. I jerked, smacking my knee hard on the underside of the table as I choked on the food in my mouth. Jeff patted my back as he pulled my chair out from under the table and the other two men came to fawn over my bumped knee.
“It’s okay,” I wheezed, “just bumped it, not hard even. You startled me,” I chastised the man coming out from under the table. He grinned impishly, not looking at all contrite.
Now, with three men seated around my legs, I was being stroked and kissed from thigh to toes. I felt uncomfortable and tried to brush them away, but Jeff tipped my head back to look at him.
He held a cherry tomato that he brushed against my lips. I looked at him questioningly, and he nodded, so I took it between my lips and tugged it from his fingers. There’s something strongly erotic about being fed like that, and it seemed to have more effect on me than the other things the men were doing.
Jeff smiled and picked up another piece of my meal. I’m not even sure what he fed me the next few bites because I was mesmerized by this masked man dangling food over my lips. The gentle caresses on my thighs and behind my knees weren’t hurting either.
My plate empty, two of the men seated around me moved away, taking the plate with them. Jeff smiled down at me as he lightly touched my eyelids, encouraging me to close my eyes. When I did, he began to caress the planes of my face, lingering finally across my lips. The remaining man at my feet stopped moving, and I wondered if he was just watching this strange facial massage.
I heard a rustling and opened my eyes again. A strawberry, still dripping the warm, dark chocolate half-coating it, was being lowered to my lips. I opened my mouth, but the strawberry drew back and I felt the chocolate drip hit my lip. My tongue darted out to taste the bittersweet drop of heaven and the man at my feet actually moaned.
Jeff drew the strawberry along my lower lip, leaving a trail of chocolate that I licked off. Gentle laps began along my calf again as the strawberry finally dropped into my mouth where I could bite it.
Some juice ran down my chin and I reached to wipe it, but Jeff held my hand back and bent to lick the drip himself. He didn’t linger, only running his tongue swiftly up my chin to my lip. I felt a little twinge of disappointment when he pulled away.
A second strawberry hovered over my mouth so I lapped at the rich, dark chocolate starting to cascade from its point. Simultaneously, the first finger of my left hand was pulled smoothly into a warm, wet mouth. The strawberry slid between my lips, to be pulled back slowly, mimicking the movement of my finger in the mouth. These guys were good.
I bit the strawberry aggressively, smearing my lips heavily with the soft chocolate. Jeff just smiled wickedly and leaned over me again, sucking and licking my lips.
It was too much, I pressed into his mouth and fought his tongue for the chocolate, only to forget chocolate was even involved after a few seconds. We battled tongues as a second mouth took the fingers of my right hand in the same way as my left. I had tongues working all four limbs and my mouth. Needless to say, my breathing was ratcheting up a notch.
Jeff’s mouth pulled away from mine, to be replaced by his finger dipped in the chocolate. He watched me as he smeared the warm, thick sauce across my lower lip, then pressed his finger into my mouth. I sucked at it obligingly and his eyes opened wider before fluttering slightly. He leaned down to nibble my jaw, neck and ear while I sucked and licked his finger.
I knew this was wrong and that I would regret it later, but it was amazingly enticing while it was happening. I still wore exercise clothing: tight Lycra shorts and a similarly form-fitting t-shirt, so I felt it clearly when fingers stroked down my mound and across my sex. I gasped, but I had had so much stimulation, I couldn’t seem to fight it any more. The second stroke was a little firmer and I felt the fabric dampen as it pushed into my folds.