This story is based upon a photo series, “The Bet”, by Italian photographer, Andrea James Bramley, who started a photo series under this same name at https://bramleyappletheforbiddenfruit.blogspot.com. I write this with the permission of both he and the model featured in “The Bet”, and with his collaboration. He especially helps with some of the Italian phrasing, which I don’t speak. I present to you this tale of a bet gone wrong. You will also find links to his other photographic works. Please enjoy “The Bet”.

One of the characters in this story is taking photographs to send to Maria’s husband. When Matteo sends them, you can see the photos he sent by checking #BramleyApple’s work. You can see links to his other works when you check it out. This chapter contains a scenes of four men playing sex games with one wife. It contains multiple sex acts of various types.

Sex Bell

My pussy was drenched in cum again. You can’t have sex with four men and expect to get out of it clean. I used the bidet, washing myself as best I could. 

It was time to eat again, the continual sex was making all of us hungrier than usual. Matteo had brought the makings of veal parmigiano. I asked if they wanted it for dinner or supper. The all agreed they were hungry now and since I’d been used hard by all four twice today, they would need some time to recuperate before they were ready for more sex. 

I went to the kitchen and put on my apron, the only thing I’d worn since they arrived yesterday. Making a quick salad, I put it in the refrigerator, then started a pot of water to boil for the pasta. Another sauce pan was put on the stove for the sauce to simmer, and I set out the veal, flour, spices, bread crumbs, eggs, Parmesan cheese, sauce, and started prepping the meal. When the veal was ready, I sautéed it for several minutes, putting it aside.

Giovanni came into the kitchen while I worked. 

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“Recharging. You’re wearing us out.”

“I’m wearing you out? It’s four against one. I need someone to hose me off every time all four of you fuck me.”

He laughed. “You do get kind of messy.”

“Kind of messy? I’ve got a rug soaking in the tub, chair cushion covers hanging to dry, and bedding I should be stripping off to wash, probably from more than one bed. And that’s in less than a day. I don’t think kind of messy describes it.”

“You’re enjoying it though, aren’t you?”

“More than I should, I suppose, for a married woman. By the way, I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re trying to fuck me in the ass.”

“I told you I was going to. Is it working?”

“Your cock is much bigger than your thumb.”

“I hope so. Doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy it.”

I looked at him, and he was smiling. “Just because I fucked your thumb with my ass, doesn’t mean I want your cock in it.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t either. I’ll assume it doesn’t mean any more than it did, but I still hope to change your mind.”

“Good luck with that.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

I finished with the prep work and put the veal in the oven. I gave him a glass of wine, poured one for myself, removed my apron and sat down.

“You’ve been planning this a long time, haven’t you, Giovanni?”

“Planning what, Maria?”

“Whatever this is, this bet thing.”

“No, never planned a second of it. Not until Pietro made the bet, anyway. I’m an opportunist. I could see he was worked up to do something stupid and he did. Of course, the others helped, inadvertently, I’m sure; by questioning his manhood and willingness to bet his wife. I’m rather proud of them for jumping right in and pushing the way they did. Ever since the bet was made, I’ve planned. I want to experience everything with you, every part of your body. I could fuck you for a year and not get enough of you. I don’t even mind sharing you with the others.”

“Why not?”

“Because they helped push your husband to this situation where I can take advantage. Plus, you’d fuck me ragged if it was just myself for the whole weekend. Having the others here, watching them fuck you, helps me. Luca has quite the salami. Watching him spit you on his cock can get me hard even if I’ve just cum.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’d prefer fucking Luca and abandon the rest of you to your imaginations?”

“Even Luca can’t fuck you all day and all night, plus size isn’t everything. Matteo showed you how much a gourmet appreciates dining on your pussy. Marco showed you the close connection between pain and pleasure. Luca can show you a big cock and I’m sure you enjoy having him fill your cunt. Most women do. But you’ll struggle taking that beast down your throat.”

I glanced at the time and put the pasta into the boiling water. He was right. I’d learned from all of them.

“What do you plan on teaching me?”

“I’ve already been teaching you.”

“What have you taught me?”

“The pleasure found in submission and helplessness, when choices have been removed.”

“I’ll admit being bound has increased my arousal. What else?”

“That even though I may not be the best at any one thing; I’m a jack of all trades who’s good at many things.”

This was true. He was the second best cunt licker, second best fucker, best kisser as far as I could tell. I hadn’t spent a lot of time kissing any of them except Giovanni. He certainly knew how to turn me on. Everything he’d done had been enjoyable.

“What else do you hope to teach me?”

“That I’m the best ass fucker. It’s one area where Luca’s size is against him. Someone with a more modest cock will please you more, I’m sure.”

Again, an astute observation. I wasn’t letting Luca anywhere near my bottom. I was more willing to consider Giovanni or Marco if I decided to change my mind. “I’m not sure anyone can please me fucking my ass.”

“To be determined,” Giovanni said, smiling. “What have you got in mind for after dinner?”

“Pietro has a bell. I was thinking of using it this afternoon.”

“A bell. What kind of bell and why would we want to use it?” Giovanni asked.

“A sex bell.” Still seeing the look of confusion on his face, I said, “It’s a normal bell, like a dinner bell, but it’s been painted red and it says Sex Bell on it. Pietro introduced it soon after our honeymoon. He’d ring the bell whenever he wanted sex, but it always had to be something special. A new position, or sex in an unusual location, or with a new toy or outfit. Never just drop your drawers and climb into bed sex. Of course, sex with any of you is different since we haven’t done most anything before, but the goal would be to think of something new or special. Perhaps we’ll make a contest of it. Whoever is the most creative in their use of the bell will win something.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Something they want, I suppose,” I said. Seeing the look on his face, I added. “Not something I’ve already said no to, like ass fucking. You’ll have to earn that in another way.”

Giovanni laughed. I tested the pasta. It was the perfect al dente. I strained it and dished it on five plates. The veal came out of the oven and I added veal to each of the plates, then poured some sauce over everything. 

“Get the others, and I’ll begin serving dinner.”

Giovanni left to bring the others to the dinner table. I dished up the salad plates and brought them to the table. By the time I started serving the veal, they were all seated and the usual groping and touching occurred, once again leaving me wet and wanting. I’d be ready for more fucking this afternoon. Unlike last night, I had to eat something today. I was ravenous. For the most part, they let me eat, though they occasionally asked for something else and when I provided it, their hands would wander again, keeping me on edge. 

How my husband ever expected this weekend not to result in sex was beyond me. If he were the one playing with a beautiful, naked woman, caressing her at every opportunity, he would have known the woman would have succumbed to her desires at some point. Even if it were one set of hands, it would have been difficult. Eight hands searching for every sensitive and intimate place on my body with the intent of stimulating me was impossible to ignore for very long.

Giovanni informed the others I had come up with a new way to play this afternoon. They were eager to find out what it was, but I put them off until the meal was over. Impatient, they rushed through my delicious meal to get to the events of the afternoon. Their impatience did allow them to help clear the table and clean the kitchen so we could get to it faster. When all was clean, I told them to have a seat and I would return shortly.

I went to the bedroom and found my husband’s sex bell. Returning to the four men, I showed it to them. 

“What’s a sex bell?” Luca asked, reading the words on the bell.

“Pietro devised this after our honeymoon, early in our marriage. When he rang the bell, I was supposed to have sex with him, but never ordinary sex. It always had to be something special. I would have to wear a costume for him, or try out a new position, or we’d have sex in a new location, or use a new sex toy we’d purchased. It always had to be something new or out of the ordinary.”

“And how are we supposed to use this bell?” Luca asked.

“I would propose a contest, judged by me. When a person rings the bell, they will have me for the next 75 minutes to do the most unusual or special sex they can devise. When you’ve come up with an idea, you’ll ring the bell and leave a slip with your name under it so I’ll know who will have me next. When all four of you have had your opportunity, I will judge who was most creative in their sex. The winner will get to propose a new use for me which we’ll do tomorrow, though not an item I’ve already prohibited,” I said, remembering Giovanni’s stated intention. “When all of you have finished, we’ll meet in the kitchen where I will announce the winner. After we eat a light supper this evening, I will attempt to satisfy Luca’s fantasy. I will do my very best, Luca, though I don’t claim I will be able to do it. Then, it is my understanding Luca has me for the night. 

“I will satisfy Giovanni’s fantasy tomorrow morning, then whatever the winner of the today’s contest picks out will come next. We’ll see how much of Sunday remains after, but I may ask you for something of my own. It is my understanding Giovanni has me tomorrow night before Pietro returns home Monday morning. Do you have any questions?”

“Can I see the bell?” Luca asked.

I handed it to him and he rang it. “I’m first.”

“You already have something unusual picked out?”

“Unusual for me,” he said. “I don’t know about you.” 

“First we need to take some pictures for Pietro. He will recognize the bell,” I said.

Matteo took several pictures of me holding the bell. Some were of the bell in between my parted legs. In others I held the bell with a provocative smile and saucy attitude. One had me only from waist to knee with the bell on the table beside me. 

When we picked out the photos to share with my husband, I added the message, “I’m sure you recognize the Sex Bell, Pietro. Each of the men is going to ring it and I must do as they say. The most creative lover will choose something else to do tomorrow which I will have to perform for them. Your friends are very highly sexed. I’ve had very little sleep.”

“You’re very angry with Pietro still, aren’t you?” Marco asked.

“Of course, I’m angry. He bet me into naked servitude to you four, plus he showed pictures of me which were to be kept private to however many different people. I might as well walk around the town naked for all the people who might have seen me already. If you want to see angry, though, let your pregnant wife, Paloma, find out about your activities this weekend. Then you’ll see angry. My husband deserved my fucking you. Paloma didn’t.”

“You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

“No. She’ll probably blame me instead of you. I’m merely the wager. You were the wagerer.”

I took Luca’s hand. “So, Luca, where are we going?”

“To your bedroom.”

Knowing there was no video cameras in my bedroom, I said, “If it’s all the same to you, Luca, do you mind if we use my husband’s office bed. The sheets are already soiled and since they need to be washed, I would appreciate if we didn’t dirty more sheets. That way they’ll be clean for us tonight.” Except for what Marco and I left last night, but I’d swallowed most of his cum. What I really wanted, was for Pietro to see what Luca planned for me with his massive cock. Hopefully, he’d see me split wide open. 

“We can use his office if there’s something there to blindfold you with?”

“I don’t know. I can get a scarf if you wish.”

“My 75 minutes doesn’t start until you get there,” Luca warned.

“Of course not. I won’t be long.”

Why did Luca want a blindfold? This was more creative than I gave him credit for. I expected him to bludgeon me with his prick for as long as he could. It was what he was known for. Nevertheless, I found a scarf and a digital timer, and found him waiting in the office, his clothes off and his cock hard. 

Luca tossed the pillows against the headboard and sat in the bed, his back against the pillows. 

“Get into bed and lean back against me,” Luca ordered.

I set the timer for seventy-five minutes, then I obeyed. He took the scarf and wrapped it around my head, blinding me. 

“Get comfortable,” he said, holding me against his chest. Each of his hands grasped a breast. “I want you to masturbate yourself, but you must tell me when you are close to climax. If you orgasm before I let you, I shall spank you quite hard tonight. Harder than Marco this morning. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

“Then begin,” Luca said.

I’d masturbated for Pietro once, and it made me uncomfortable when I did it. Masturbation seems like such a personal thing, and knowing Luca would be observing me made me nervous. I wondered how easily I’d cum while he watched me. I did as he requested though, and as his hands stroked my breasts and tweaked my nipples, lowered a hand to my folds, already liquid in anticipation of the afternoon’s activities. My fingers slipped into my slit and started stroking slowly up and down, from my pussy to my clit, very lightly. 

The blindfold helped, putting me into darkness. I couldn’t see anything and his hands holding my breasts could almost be mine, or even inanimate, like a brassiere, holding my breasts up. I was conscious of his cock, thick and hard behind my back, twitching on occasion, but it receded into the background as well. Soon it was only my fingers, sliding through the slick liquid of my cunt. I moaned throatily.

After awhile, it wasn’t enough to glide through the folds. I slid two fingers from my other hand into my sheath, sluicing into the wetness. I moaned again. My other hand continued gliding between my folds, concentrating more at the top, closer to my clit. It felt good. There was nothing but my fingers and my pussy.

“I’m going to cum,” I whispered, already thrusting my hips, hesitant to break the silence.

“You can’t yet,” Luca whispered back, and he gripped my arms, pulling them away from my figa. I groaned in despair, so close to my orgasm. He held my arms, restraining me until my hips stopped twitching. My arousal faded, leaving an aching where pleasure had been waiting. 

“Begin again,” he said, “but tell me when you’re going to cum.”

I started, beginning where I’d left off, both hands busy. It took a shorter amount of time and I could sense the precipice I wanted to fall into. 

“Please, sir, let me cum,” I moaned.

Luca denied me, holding my arms again, keeping them away from my leaking cunt, so close. We waited. It took longer before my hips stopped shivering. 

“You may start again, but don’t cum,” he warned. I groaned in frustration.

Since he wasn’t going to allow me to cum, I tried staying away from my clit this time, and only used one finger inside of me, hoping to put off the inevitable. It made no difference. I was panting again in no time, aching to orgasm. I considered not telling Luca, taking the fucking spanking, and cumming. He was beginning to read my body language, and stopped me before I went over the edge, pulling my hands away from myself, not allowing me to cum a third time. I was practically sobbing when he stopped me, so needy. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” Luca whispered in my ear. “Bad girl. Do as I say.”

It took almost ten minutes before my breathing calmed and my legs and hips stopped quivering this time. Was this all he was going to do with his time? Edge me over and over until time ran out. His cock was still hard behind my back. Didn’t he want to plunge it into my cunt and fuck me? I wanted him to. I wanted to feel him invade my sacred places, filling me up as no one else could.

Luca finally released my arms and told me to touch myself again. Please, let me cum this time, I thought. Maybe I should just push hard, have my orgasm and face the consequences. I started playing with myself, stroking, fingering, trying to mask my arousal until it was too close for me or Luca to do anything about it.

I was not as successful hiding my intentions as I thought I was. Whether it was my breathing, the hardness of my nipples, or some other factor I was unaware of, Luca pulled my hands away before I could ride the wave to completion.

“Please, sir, let me climax,” I whimpered, frustrated again.

“We have plenty of time left,” Luca said, “still over a half hour. Don’t be in a rush, and by the way; I shall have to spank you for trying to get around my prohibition.”

Fuck. I still hadn’t orgasmed and I was going to be punished anyway. 

The minutes started ticking away. I sat in the darkness while he idly caressed my breasts, my arousal slowly dropping, kept alive only by his fingers touching my nipples once in awhile. We heard the sex bell ringing and I knew someone else had decided upon something I would do for them. I almost climaxed hearing it ring, then subsiding as the echoes ended.

Waiting for his command to begin touching myself again, I was surprised when he told me to mount him; to put his cock in my cunt. Finally, I thought. Moving slowly in my darkness, I moved around until I was facing him. His cock was easy to find, it was all my hand wanted to find and it was there, big as life itself. I had to kneel up high to get it positioned below my cunt. The head felt so huge as I placed it at my entrance, which was dripping from all the times I’d been close to climax. 

I sat down over him, felt him spreading me, and just like that, I was on the edge again, ready to climax; shivering, my legs shaking.

“Don’t cum yet,” Luca warned. I howled, so frustrated.

“Not yet!” He warned again. “I mean it.”

I had to stop moving, sliding down his pole, or I’d cum. I hung poised, his cock penetrating six or seven centimeters. The head of his cock was throbbing. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing with every throb.

“Please, Luca, sir, please let me cum.”

“Not yet.”

His hands were under my ass, holding me so I couldn’t drop down. I whimpered again, so fucking close. There I was, poised, his mast inside of me, not nearly filling me, ready to careen over the cliff, suspended at the edge, unable to cross over or back up. A minute passed. Two. Dangling. I was ready to scream. Suddenly, he dropped me down, almost slamming me into his crotch.

His cock pierced me to my heart and I spun, out of control, my body cartwheeling, a million points of light dancing in my brain, almost like I could see again. An explosion is too mild a word for it. A nova, a new star, born in the cataclysmic fusion of colliding atoms, nuclear fire. If anyone was sleeping, I would have woken the house. I screamed and kept on screaming as he bounced me up and down on cock, my whole body spasming, shaking and shuddering as my orgasm kept going. Kept at bay for too long, it was roaring at its sudden freedom, nor was it willing to reenter its cage. I orgasmed over and over again, convulsing through each one. 

Finally, Luca joined me, his sack pulsed, sending a massive surge of his cum into me, flooding me, leaking out between our joined bodies, coating his cock and balls.

“Clean me,” he whispered when our spasms ended. “Lick my cock clean.”

Finally at a size where I felt I might do so, I licked and sucked his prick of our accumulated pleasure. It barely stirred under my tongue, so emptied was he from the fantastic fucking we’d enjoyed. The timer went off. I don’t know what the others might have planned for me, but it was going to be difficult to beat what I’d just enjoyed. I was nearly ready to declare Luca the winner now. I’m sure the others heard me cum. The whole town might have heard me cum. I stood up, Luca’s and my cum trickling down my leg and I looked to where one of the camera’s was. 

Did you see, Pietro? Did you see Luca fuck your wife with his horse cock and make her squeal like a pig? Your marriage will never be the same, will it Pietro? My eyes have been opened, even as my legs have been spread.

I found the bell with Matteo’s name beside it and a message to go to the pool. I stepped outside and Matteo had set several of the lounge cushions in a big square on the patio around the water. 

“It sounded as if you had a good time,” he commented. “I could hear you out here.”

I smiled at him. “I had a wonderful time,” I admitted. “Luca will be tough to beat.”

“Women love that big cock of his,” he said. “I should have rung the bell first.” 

I touched his prick, swollen, but not yet hard. “You have nothing to be ashamed of in the cock department, Matteo. “Considering your relative sizes, yours is the more impressive of the two.”

“But only relative,” he said. 

“Sometimes, it’s not the size; it’s what you do with it,” I said, slowly stroking his, getting him hard for me. “Luca didn’t even stick his cock into me for most of an hour.”

“What did he do?” Matteo asked. 

“I don’t want to influence you. The contest shall be based upon what you bring to the table and not what others have done.”

“I plan on sticking to what I do best,” he said. “Lie down on the cushions and spread your legs.”

“I’ve still got Luca’s cum in me. I didn’t have time to clean myself off before coming out here.”

“I should give a rat’s ass if you’re dripping in his cum right now. I want to win this contest. Lie down.”

I set the time for 75 minutes and lay down on the cushions, and as we basked in the warmth of the sun, Matteo did all he could to win the contest. I gave him points for being willing to suck another man’s cum from my figa, the setting out by the pool, the skill he employed in licking my cunt and the sheer number of orgasms he gave me, but none of them quite reached the level of that first massive one of Luca’s as he pushed me down on his cock. 

Toward the end, he got over me in a sixty-nine and fed me his cock as he continued working my pussy. I was pleased to say I could get all of Matteo’s prick in my mouth using my new techniques as he pumped in and out of my throat. He was the second largest of all the men, so I was becoming more confident I would eventually be able to take Luca when I tried later. I heard the sex bell ringing again and I spasmed, hearing it. Matteo orgasmed as I did for the last time, and I tasted him alone for the first time, strong and potent, thick and tangy. I was sucking the last of his seed down my throat when the timer went off.

“I didn’t win, did I?” He asked as I got up from the cushions.

“It was a valiant effort, Matteo, but I would still give the win to Luca at this point. You’re very skilled. It’s too bad your wife refuses to accept your oral pleasure.”

“Maybe you could encourage her,” Matteo said. 

“What would I say, Matteo? I know your husband is a wonderful cunt licker, Lucia. You should really partake of his skills.”

“No,” he admitted, “you can’t say that. Surely you could mention something which might push her in that direction without confessing to your own experience. If she let me, she’d be perfect for me.”

“What? You’d no longer feel compelled to spread your seed far and wide?”

“Less compelled anyway. I do care for her, and I love my children.”

“I’ll think about it, but if I continue to let you lick my cunt, I should say nothing to her. I shouldn’t even be a shadow in her mind.”

“I thought you only said that in the heat of the moment,” Matteo said. “I didn’t think you’d let this continue.”

“Pietro opened the door and allowed all of you through it. I’m not sure I can ever return to the chaste, dutiful, faithful wife I was before. How does one forget what happened here this weekend? I doubt Pietro will and I certainly can’t.”

“If I can’t get my wife to allow me to eat her oyster, it’s nice to know I have another choice.”

“Remember, Matteo, the more you play outside your marriage, the greater the risk of Lucia finding out. If you want to totally fuck up your marriage, keep playing.”

I left Matteo and looked for the bell, wondering who rang it this time. It was still on the table, Marco’s name beside it with the message to come to his room. There wasn’t a camera there, but Pietro had probably witnessed the worst of it already. I went to Marco’s room and he had a four poster bed in his room. Attached to each of the four posts was one of Pietro’s expensive ties, with the ends lying in the middle of the bed. My cunt became more wet, knowing Marco intended to tie me down. I’d already discovered I enjoyed being bound, the plastic wrap experiment being wildly successful. Was he planning on spanking me some more, fucking me, or something else I couldn’t comprehend at the moment?

I set the timer. “Do you want me face up, or face down?” I asked, nodding toward the ties. 

“Face up,” he replied. A spanking seemed less likely now.

I got on the bed, face up and he carefully tied each of my legs and arms to a post. I was spread out and completely helpless from whatever he intended doing to me. I started to shake, already close to climax. He took another tie and covered my eyes with it. Did he not want me to see what he was going to do to me? What was it about blinding me today? I waited. I could hear him moving around the room. 

Feeling something brush against my nipple, I flinched. It disappeared momentarily, then brushed against the other one. Something very soft, very light, a feather perhaps, or some light silk. I couldn’t see, so I could only guess. Marco played with my breasts awhile, until my nipples were hard and aching. Then the gentle touches to my breasts ceased, only to continue again as light brushes against my inner thighs, or even along my pubic lips. My hips thrust upward at the touch, unable to do much against the ties holding me down. I felt my clit spike and peek out. The slightest touch over it and I shivered again. Exquisite, I thought.

His hand went over my breast, caressing me, pinching a nipple moderately. Only preparing it for what came next. He’d found some clothes pins and fastened one to my nipple and the intensity doubled from his finger to the wood. I gasped, trying to shrink into the bed, but there was nowhere to go and no way to hide, to cover or protect my breasts. He did the other one the same, clamping a pin on it, so overpowering. I groaned and squirmed.

“Please, sir,” I said, “it hurts.”

“I’ll remove them shortly,” he said. “Remember, the spanking hurt too.”

I moaned. While my nipples were thus cruelly pinched, he ran the feather or silk over the tortured flesh, soothing, but not eliminating the pain, but making it somewhat tolerable. I squirmed, unsure if I should moan or groan, finally doing both. He removed the pins, one at a time, the blood flowing back into my hard nubbins, and they ached from it, so sensitive. He covered each with his mouth, gently suckling and soothing the painful buds. I almost climaxed, it provided such welcome relief. 

The next thing to feel the pinch of the clothes pins were my pubic lips. He licked me first to make sure I was as aroused as could be before he attached them, another wave of pain following, not quite as bad as my nipples. When they were fastened, he rubbed between them, bringing me to orgasm despite the pain, and as soon as I started quivering in pleasure, he pulled them off, intensifying my climax. Marco was being very creative. I’d never done anything similar to this with my husband nor any of my previous boyfriends before marriage. I wondered about Marco. Did he ever do things like this to Paloma, and did she enjoy them. He couldn’t spank her, but maybe these were things she did allow. Or maybe I was a guinea pig and he’d never done these things before to anyone.

He was moving around again and I could only follow him with my ears, my sight shut down. I heard what sounded like ice in a glass, and thought he was having a drink. I felt thirsty myself. Marco wasn’t having a drink, however, he was grabbing an ice cube. He touched it to the tip of a nipple and I thought he was burning me. I started to scream then realized it wasn’t heat, it was cold. A drip of icy water, ran down the side of my breast. I shivered. My nipples were puckered and hard again as he teased them with the ice. Then he alternated between the icy cold and the heat of his mouth, causing me to spasm again. We both heard the bell ringing again. Giovanni had made his choice. The ringing extended the duration of my orgasm.

Marco was the devil. I was convinced of it when he touched a cube to my clit, still peeking out. I shivered uncontrollably as a sliver of cold water, trailed down the slit of my overheated pussy, slowly warming as it went. He followed the cube with his mouth, warm and wet, his tongue dancing over my clit. Ice, mouth, ice, mouth, he alternated until I orgasmed once more.

None of the orgasms rivaled Luca’s but Marco was getting serious points for his unique methods of arousing and stimulating me to climax. I’d never been triggered like this before. My choice was getting more difficult by the moment. The last thing he did was push three ice cubes into my red hot pussy, then plunge his cock in after them. The combination of cold and heat combined as the friction of his cock and my internal temperature made the ice melt and it dripped from my body and down over my crinkled star as he fucked me to two more orgasms, cumming during the last one. The cum dripping from my cunt watered down by the cubes. The timer went off.

This was more inventive than Luca, even if the end results weren’t quite as dramatic. I said I’d judge partially on originality and this was original. Marco handed me a towel, which also gave him a point for preparation. I felt like it might be a dead heat and I’d end up flipping a coin to decide who won the contest unless Giovanni brought something special to the table. 

I thanked Marco for his originality and went to find the bell again. Giovanni left his name off, he was the last one remaining. All it said was to come to Pietro’s office. 

When I arrived there, the office had been transformed. There were candles burning everywhere, music was playing softly on the stereo, some type of Eastern music. He’d put two thick cotton blankets over the bed covering up the other sheets. 

“What’s all this then?” I asked, wondering what he was going to do. 

“Buon pomeriggio, signora. Il tuo massaggio ti aspetta.”

“Good afternoon to you too. My massage awaits? What are you up to, Giovanni?”

“Do you know what a yoni is, signora?”

“Isn’t it what the Hindu’s call a figa, a pussy? I believe I saw the word in a Kama Sutra translation.”

“More correctly, the word is from Sanskrit, and it literally means, sacred place, or sometimes source or origin, but it does refer to the pussy. In Tantra, the yoni is believed to hold tension and emotion just as any other part of the body can. Easterners, from Indians to Chinese, have long practiced what they called yoni massage to release this emotion and tension which they believed would be harmful if not periodically removed. I intend to give you a yoni massage.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Lie down on your stomach on the bed and relax. I want you to concentrate on your breathing. Think of nothing else but your breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. It is not uncommon to experience a flood of different emotions. Let these emotions flow. Do not attempt to block or suppress them. They may frequently change from sadness or anger to happiness or peace.”

“Am I going to orgasm?” I asked, setting the timer and placing it beside the bed.

“Perhaps, but not necessarily. It might depend upon how comfortable you feel. Just enjoy the sensations and what happens, happens. Don’t push for an orgasm. Let it happen if it happens, but the purpose of this massage is not to orgasm, but to relax and release yoni blockages and tensions.”

Was Giovanni not trying to win the contest? Perhaps he’d heard my orgasm with Luca and given up. His idea was certainly original. I lay down on the bed. He had me spread my legs farther apart, about two feet apart at the ankles. 

“Just relax. Feel the tension drain out of your body. Deep breaths, in,” pause, “and out. Concentrate on the breathing, in” pause, “and out.”

Already, I could feel some tension leaching away, some of the anger at Pietro, the sexual tension of serving four lusty men, floating away on my breaths. He let me breathe for a few minutes, getting into the rhythm before climbing on the bed behind me. He poured oil on my back of some kind. It smelled of coconuts, so perhaps coconut oil was at least one of the ingredients. Alternating between heavier pressure, and lighter, he smoothed it over my back, covering it fully. He massaged my neck, worked his way down my spine to the top of my ass, and back up. He also rubbed my arms, laying beside me. 

Next he did my buttocks and upper thighs, alternating with heavier and lighter pressure; heavier on my bottom and the backs of my thighs, lighter on my inner thighs. I was becoming very relaxed, even my ass where a lot of tension resided. I could feel the cheeks relaxing, exposing more and more of my crease. 

He moved down to my calves and feet next, working the tension out of them. Thus far it hadn’t been more than an excellent back massage, and I was feeling very relaxed. He poured some of the oil between my crease and smoothed it down, even rubbing it around the puckered star of my sphincter. I gasped and tightened up slightly at his touching my back door so intimately. 

He patted my bottom, “Relax, concentrate on your breathing,” he said. 

I slowly relaxed and they fell apart again. He rubbed the exterior of the rubbery muscle, but never attempted to enter past the flexible gate. In, pause, out, my breathing smoothed out again. His hand went lower, rubbing the perineum and the outer edges of the sheath, even pushing underneath the mons and trailing lightly up.

It felt sensual, more than sexual. I was aware it was a male hand stroking my intimate parts, but it didn’t seem as if he was seeking to arouse me, only to relax me. My body became limper and limper. He leaned over me and I could feel his stiff cock trailing through the crease, even rubbing against my back door, and as relaxed as I was feeling, realized it might not take much pressure for him to push into me. He surprised me. He didn’t even try. What he did do, was trail some light kisses down my spine to the top of the cleft, becoming part of the massage, then he straightened up and told me to turn over and leave my legs spread as they were.

Kneeling over me again, holding his weight off me, he poured more of the oil over my chest and began rubbing it over my chest and breasts. I felt my nipples harden, but he paid no more attention to them than he did any other part of my chest. Even they relaxed again. He smoothed oil over my stomach and hips, over the top of my mons, the front of my thighs and shins down to my feet again. He leaned over me and I was conscious of his cock gently rubbing against my genitals, but he made no attempt to penetrate me, something I might have welcomed at this point. He lightly kissed his way down my chest from my neck to my pubic air, but again, more sensual than sexual. When he finished, he moved to my left side, kneeling.

“I’m going to begin the yoni massage now. It’s very important you concentrate on your breathing for this. It will feel more sexual, but the purpose is not necessarily orgasm. It’s to cleanse your yoni of tension and emotion. If you think about your breathing, it will be easier to ignore the sexuality. Just relax, breathe, in,” pause, “and out. In,” breathing with me, “out. Relax.”

As I took the deep breaths, he poured more of the oil on my chest and some on my mound, then began rubbing it into the skin. With his left hand, he rubbed a breast, pushing the flesh up into a peak topped by a nipple, pushing his fingers up over it, moving from breast to breast.

With his right hand, he gently rubbed the flesh surrounding my clit, then stroked on the outside of my inner labia lips. The oil made his hands and my skin very slippery. He alternated between heavier touching and lighter, reading my body.

“Breathe, relax. In and out,” he said. 

Despite how and where he was touching me, I felt my body reach a tranquil state, almost comatose, as opposed to the rising tension of an approaching orgasm. When he sensed the relaxation, one of his fingers entered me. I momentarily tensed, then allowed my breathing and the liquidity of my muscles carry me into a deeper state of relaxation. His finger rubbed at various points inside me, some more painful, some more sensual, but all feeling quite peaceful. His left hand left my breasts and moved down to join the right, beginning to massage the outside of my clitoris even as a finger massaged the inside of my pussy. My breathing remained even and relaxed. Even this stimulation didn’t make me feel an orgasm approaching, though I could sense my pussy liquifying as his finger moved inside me.

“Keep breathing, relax, in,” pause, “and out.” 

His right hand moved, the finger leaving me, while his left hand move to occupy the spot, the palm of his left hand pressing against my clit, his middle finger stroking in and out in time to my breathing. Two fingers of his right hand started rubbing around my back door. I ignored it, reaching a greater calm, almost sleeping but for the concentration on my breathing. One of his fingers started to penetrate my anus and I didn’t care, still so relaxed and peaceful. A second finger joined the first. I breathed, limp. In, out, in, out, in time with my lungs, even my heart seemed to slow to the same rhythm. 

That’s when it happened. A powerful orgasm swept through my body which seemed to have no origins and no ending. It came out of nowhere, from a condition of total relaxation, unaccompanied by the usual vaginal contractions and convulsions, and it lasted for several minutes, flowing over and through me like a wave. Not as powerful or shocking as what I’d felt with Luca, but longer lasting and even relaxing, releasing all my bodies tensions, cares and concerns. Too limp to even moan, still breathing, in and out. I gradually became aware his fingers had left my body as he let it wash over me. I’d never felt so loose, so calm, so peaceful.

The timer went off. Giovanni shut it off.

I looked over at him. His cock was still rigidly hard, aiming up, unspent.

“You didn’t cum,” I said, pointing to his poor prick.

“This wasn’t about me,” he said. “It was about you, to help you. I couldn’t compete on the same level as the others if I concerned myself with my pleasure. I had to concentrate on you, and if you reached completion, I had a chance. I’ll have other opportunities to cum. I can wait.”

The sly dog. He was probably correct. Everyone else had taken care of themselves as they played with their different scenarios. Giovanni was the only one who ignored himself and provided pleasure only to me. Nor had it slipped past my attention that he’d played with my anus again, and it had been a powerful and contributing factor to my eventual orgasm. He was doing what he could to end my ban on using my ass.

I noted my consideration of his sneaky tactics.

“When you rubbed my back, I could feel your cock against my sphincter, rubbing against it. I was oiled up, relaxed. Why didn’t you push your cock into me? I probably would have accepted it without too much squawking.”

“I don’t have your permission yet, and when I fuck your ass, I want you to beg for me to fuck it, not take it unawares.”

“You actually think I’ll beg for you to fuck my ass?”

“I’m almost certain of it.”

“That’s the kind of challenge I’d love to prove you wrong about. Why tell me? Knowing how confident you feel about fucking me there, makes me want to deny you even more.”

“Therein lies the fun,” Giovanni said. “Taking someone who has no interest in anal sex, who wants to deny me because I’m a confident prick, and making her beg anyway.”

I laughed. “You’ve got the confident prick down to a science.”

“It’s time to join the others,” Giovanni said. “They’ll want to know who the winner of the contest is, but before you get up, I have one other thing to do.” He held up what looked like a jade egg. “This is a yoni egg, used by the wives and concubines of the Chinese royal palace for 5000 years, to access sexual power, awaken sensuality and maintain good health through old age. I’m going to place it in your yoni to continue the beneficial effects of your yoni massage through the balance of the weekend. You may remove it when you’re engaged in sexual congress, but you should replace it when you’re not. Would you agree to this?”

“Why not? I’ve enjoyed everything else you’ve put me through.”

Giovanni smiled. “I think you’ll enjoy this,” he said. 

He wet the egg in the moisture on the outside of my cunt, before sliding it inside of me. “You have to engage the Kegel muscles of your pussy in order to keep it inside of you. If you relax those same muscles, the weight of the egg should allow it to drop out.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

He blew out the candles and turned off the music before helping me to my feet. I still felt limp from the massage. He grabbed the two cotton blankets and dropped them off in the laundry room, helping hold me up as we walked to the kitchen. I was conscious of the egg inside me, rubbing me quite delightfully as I moved. Oh, yes. I was fairly certain I was going to enjoy this.

We joined the others in the kitchen. All were watching me with interest to see who my choice would be. Only Matteo was out of the running. I thought Giovanni had shown the most originality, followed by Marco, though Luca had surprised me as well with the blindfold and masturbation. Luca’s orgasm had been the most intense, but Giovanni’s the longest and most relaxing. Being tied had certainly helped Marco’s cause. Giovanni forgoing his own pleasure to satisfy me alone was in his favor. I felt it was very close, no matter who I picked, and even thought I might have them draw straws.

Only one thing stopped me from choosing that way. I could almost guess what Marco or Luca might pick for their winning prize. I didn’t have a clue what Giovanni might pick. He’d surprised me several times already this weekend. I thought it would be fun to know where else his mind would go.

“I declare Giovanni the winner,” I said. 

The others had momentary looks of disappointment on their faces, but quickly realized whoever was chosen, or whatever their prize would be, they’d all benefit from the result. They all congratulated the winner and while I prepared salad, bread, and an assortment of meats and cheeses for supper, Giovanni shared with the others what he’d done to me while he had use of me. Of course, when Giovanni told them I had a yoni egg in my cunt, they all had to feel inside me for the egg, and I climaxed again. It had proven to be a very good day thus far, and we still had the evening to go.

******