The Château loomed amid endless Burgundy vineyards, its ancient stone walls whispering old money. Velvet drapes framed leaded windows overlooking rows of Pinot Noir vines. Crystal chandeliers caught the late sun, casting gold on polished oak tables laden with premier cru bottles. I arrived early, heels clicking on marble floors scented with aged leather and faint oak. Richard’s executives trickled in—twelve men, three women, sharp suits hiding hungry eyes. Power players, all.
I stood tall in my silk blouse, heavy breasts straining the fabric, hips swaying in a pencil skirt. Richard introduced me: the organizer, his secret weapon. Eyes devoured me during my spiel—workshops, challenges, rewards. ‘Personal gifts each night,’ I said, voice husky. Envelopes in rooms. Motivation spiked. Laughter echoed in vaulted halls. Fine Burgundies flowed at dinner, tannins sharp on tongues, bubbles of vintage champagne lingering like foreplay.
The Privilege
Back in my four-poster bedchamber, canopy draped in heavy brocade, an envelope waited. ‘Your reward: blindfold yourself. Wait. Obey.’ Heart raced. Richard knew my cravings—post-David lovers, my erotic tales on Revebebe fueling our bond. Blindfold on, wrists tied later. Door creaked. A voice read his note: ‘One hour with my wife. Use her.’ Strong hands freed my blouse. Full breasts spilled out, nipples hardening in cool air. He kneaded them, thumbs circling peaks. ‘Perfect tits. Stared all day.’ I urged: ‘Fuck them.’ His cock slid between, hot vein pulsing against soft flesh. Gland nudged my lips on upstrokes. He lifted my thighs, yanked panties aside, thrust deep. Experienced strokes hit my core. Fingers teased my ass crack. ‘No,’ I gasped. He switched to pinching nipples, pounding till I clenched. He pulled out, condom bursting hot seed over my heaving chest.
Richard slipped in after. ‘Magnificent, love. Watched it all.’ His cock filled my mouth, spurting down my throat. We kissed, tasting him, before dinner’s clink of silverware.
Second night, another note: caves below. Massive oak table ringed by priceless bottles. Blindfolded, cuffed to iron rings, I lay spread amid dusty vintages. Soft hands trailed thighs, tongue tracing stocking seams. Panties ripped. Expert mouth invaded—lapping walls, probing depths. Delicate fingers milked my breasts. I clamped legs around the head. Then, her pussy hovered over my face. First woman. Fantasy unleashed. Tongues danced in slick folds, breaths mingling musk. Explosive orgasm shook me.
The Excess
Richard again: ‘So beautiful with her.’ Fucked my mouth raw, cum marking me his.
Third night: conference room. Chaired blind, doors shut. ‘Fucking stacked reward.’ Three voices. Rough hands mauled—asses grabbed, tits yanked free. Fingers invaded mouth, skirt hiked. Kneeled, three cocks freed. Thick, veined, dripping pre-cum. ‘Suck like a pro.’ I devoured one, jerked the others. They swapped, groping tits brutally. ‘Greedy slut. Pipe queen.’ Stood, panties shredded. Sat impaled on first, sucking second, third probing ass. ‘Gentle,’ I begged. He eased in slow. They rotated, hands like vices on my udders. First flooded my pussy. Second took over, third hair-cumming, ropes tangling red strands. Last endurance-fucked me table-spread, slamming deep till I shattered. They left.
Richard claimed me tenderly on the table. Slow, loving thrusts. Deepest reward: him.
