Dance Of Desire
Page 3
God, he’d felt good. Smelled unbelievably good. Better than chocolate and more addicting. And he had such promise for being good naughty. I'd like naughty sex. Hell, I'd like any kind of sex with him!
Cassie pressed her knees together as her uncontained thoughts of him started to make her cunt wet and throb that it ached. She remembered grinding her ass and crotch against his hardened manhood through his jeans. It was maddening, how wild and wanton she had been with him last night.
She sighed. You cannot hold your liquor, OR your hangover, sister.
Later again, she grabbed a thick and heavy class book to study and get her mind distracted. She took care and had a reasonable pride in her ability to stay focused and précised whenever she was studying. And anyway, she really wasn’t the kind of girl who fantasized too much. She suffered only the occasional day dreams and her feet always reached back for solid earth. It resulted into high grades and honors when she graduated.
That’s why her parents hadn’t minded footing the bill for her to come here and study in a better, more expensive school. They had been glad when a great apartment had come available. She wouldn’t be in a dorm with all those “possible negative influences.”
“Only one more week, Cassie dear. If you don’t get a good, safe apartment in one more week, you’re coming straight back home.”
But she soon realized that even studying wasn’t working. Her focus kept unraveling and slipping into all the wrong places. She was thinking of the hunk again when she caught herself staring at the book and not reading.
“He was hot… but not that hot. Was he?” she asked the room.
No one answered, of course, but her body reacted and started to throb and ache again when she thought how it would have been like had she brought him here and they fucked each other like crazy all night long.
She would have felt like this in the morning, she conceded, if that really had happened.
But it did not happen, according to Lauren. And her friend had no reason to lie about something like that.
Her textbook slipped from her fingers and clunked unto to the floor, pages bent, when she suddenly realized that her cunt felt exactly like she’d had a big man with a big cock fucking her all night. That hunk had felt big against her. And he’d felt really strong and athletic.
“Ahh, you’re stupid, Cassie. How could you accuse the man if you can’t even remember anything? He never could get in without a key.”
Something still kept bothering her and she tried to focus on what it was. But it kept slipping away when it felt like she was getting a grasp on it.
I am tired. I am so fucking exhausted. Perk up, already.
She stood up and washed the dish she had been eating from, took another quick shower just to wash off any lingering thought of icky things, and put on a lightweight, oversized shirt. She meant to fully dry her hair but her hair dryer’s whining loudness hurt her head. She took two more aspirins and decided to let her hair dry on its own.
Okay, Cassie. Stop fighting it. You’ve partied too hard and just need to sleep the rest of the day. Hopefully, you won’t wake till Monday morning, when you’ll feel totally fine. Oh, alarm.
Good, responsible girl that she was, she made certain her alarm was set, just in case. Then she gently laid her head on the pillow.
About ten seconds later, she finally grasped that vague thought that kept getting away like a slithery snake. She kept thinking about it until she was half-asleep. Just before she completely dozed off, some slid into place, like a puzzle’s missing pieces.
I may have been able to take off my blouse and even rip up and lose my panties. But, really, how strong could I get, even violent drunk, to rip a bra strap in two? Or ram my tits into a wall? Or masturbate so hard that it hurt to pee?
She shifted herself around the bed trying to get comfortable. Her sore tits were not happy. She drifted off and fell into an odd dream, must have been fed by her unresolved anxieties and questions. In her dream, she watched as her friends talked about her while she was passed out in her bed.
“Okay, she’s good,” Krystal said as the others moved to leave. “Let’s lock the door. Oh, and leave the keys by the door so she can find it when she wakes up.”
In the dream, her friends were leaving and locking her in. Her clothes were intact and in their proper place as she laid prone on the bed, not moving.
Then… he was just there—her dance partner. The gorgeous hunk with the magician’s hands materialized before her. He came out of nowhere and he was just there, staring down at her with his warm, heavy lidded, sexy eyes.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her, even when it was him who was in her room. She was awake and looking up at him with eyes pleading in need.
She wanted to fall into those sad eyes of his. He looked like he was in pain. But he smiled.
“I am sorry, but I am glad. You are my reward, Beautiful. Give yourself to me. You want me, don’t you?”
She wanted him, but she didn’t move since she was still wondering how to ask how he’d gotten in.
“You resist me?”
No, no, I want you.
He smiled. “Oh… I know you do. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t summoned me, Beautiful.”
Then he bent and he started to kiss her. She immediately kissed him back, and the kiss turned into something hungry and alive and fiery. His hands were both rough and tender as he explored her, as he did away with her clothes in wanting to reach her skin. She, too, tried to tear his clothes off of him. She wanted to feel him. She wanted his naked skin against her naked skin. She wanted to burn for him.
I need you… I want you…
“Yes, Beautiful?” He’d answered as if he’d heard her mind speak. But he soon paid no heed to her because he was suckling on her tits, pulling at them gently but firmly with his teeth and devouring them.
Ow! There! She’d found her voice. No. That had been a shout in her head. She had no voice. Ow. It hurts… she whimpered.
“The pain will become pleasure, Beautiful,” he stated, roughly parting her thighs with his own hard thighs.
There was a wrenching noise as he tore at her bra, and another smaller ripping sound as he yanked her panties off of her body, exposing her sex. He lowered herself and she felt her ass leave the bed as he lifted her lower torso and glued his mouth on her cunt.
Ahhh… ahhhhhh!
He kissed her there like he was French kissing her mouth, his tongue flicking at her clit like it was her tongue and slipping inside her folds like they were her lips. She shivered and trembled and shook with pleasure! She had never been subjected to such expert manhandling. He continued to draw on her clit, slipping it between his teeth and sucking that she found herself screaming, though it was all inside her head.
She imploded. Or exploded. Whatever… it was a full-blown orgasm and it threw her into an ocean of heat wave that did not release her until he was done. And then he rose, fully-naked, and he came back to her, and she could feel his meat nudging at her soaked opening as she groggily came back to earth.
What the fuck… how could you… it was so… I have never…
I can do more, he promised. And she realized… he just talked to her without speaking!
And then he pierced her. She cried, startled, at his hugeness. She was already wet, so wet from her juices and his saliva, but it was still an excruciating, wedging fullness.
Ahh! No. You’re too…
It had been a long time since her last boyfriend, and he had not been as big as the meat that she felt wedged inside her sex right then. She felt like she would burst.
She struggled against him, or thought she did. This magician was too much. He held her to him like he had more than two hands, strong hands like vices, and she wiggled and pushed away from the pain. But for some reason, he started to become lesser… like he was getting smaller, yet still very hard. She thought that couldn’t be possible the pain was making her think crazy things. But it was true, he has lessened
that the pain melted into manageable discomfort. She opened her eyes and he was looking at her, his eyes inquiring.
“Better?”
In answer, she pulled him closer, reveling in the pain and sensation, like she wanted him more than she feared the pain. Then he moved, and the pain mingled into something so good that she was moaning hard and long inside her head. He began to earnestly fuck her, full and hard and getting faster. His urgency was so intense that he never let up, even for a moment, even as she came again, and again, and she cannot stop cumming.
This really must be a dream because that was just impossible, to have a hundred orgasm in just one fucking session?! But he moved like a whip, and she was burning, and she was still cumming. He was consuming her, eating her up like he was fire and she was dry leaves.
Yes. Yes. Yes, Beautiful. Cum for me. Cum! We’ll be here all night… you will keep me alive…
And she came, and she came, and she came until it was dawn and she had nothing more to give…
Chapter Five
THERE WAS LIGHT everywhere and Cassie felt great.
She was soaking up the sun in a beach chair facing the sea with a pineapple fruit shake in one hand. Everything felt calm and she made a mental note that she deserved this; a reward for all her hard work about… something.
She shook her head. She could not remember what. But it had been hard work and it had depleted all that she has. She had to take all the sun that she could get. She needed the sun so much, but she couldn’t explain why.
She saw people working on banana boats, playful people dangling from parachutes being hauled by speed boats. But most of all, she saw gorgeous Paulo the Latino, or maybe a Greek transplant hottie from the hotel she was staying. She’d hired him for a full-body massage—the Complete Paulo Package.
Cassie hadn’t made that up. That was the ad. Clearly it was meant to be suggestive. She hoped to find out if Paulo’s package was really “complete” as it promised.
Initially, she’d just wanted a regular massage. But after seeing him, she thought he looked vaguely familiar. From school, a store, a club…? She dimly remembered cushy sofas she’d bounced on. But, Paulo, here and now, smiled at her, his eyes bright and happy, his smile to die for, and she stopped trying to remember.
What happened to his sad eyes?
She didn’t know where that thought came from. She felt surprised for a moment, but then it suddenly did not matter because Cassie felt positively lascivious as she gazed at his smiling, handsome face. She wondered if she could get him to go back to her room with her and lock herself in with him and fuck him till he begged for more.
His sweet, angel-like smile made her sigh. His lips were almost femininely sensual. He kept combing his hair back against the breeze with his wicked fingers. He was a wonderful masseur but she still felt “tense”—but not from tired or cramped muscles. At least not “cramped muscles” in her limbs or back.
Paulo had just finished her… well, finished massaging her back and the backs of her thighs and legs. Now she’d flipped over to lay on her back and he was just massaging down her thighs. Cassie tensed her muscles on purpose, to make him knead the muscles longer. Naughty, naughty Cassie.
“You’re so tight, señora.”
You have no idea. Damn it. Now, she worried that she might explode.
“Relax, Señora Cassie. Give in to me.”
She relaxed, but that delicious “tension” he generated in her was still there, deep between them. He was now kneading down her lower leg. He touched a particularly sensitive cluster of nerves that made her core nearly burst.
Cassie stifled a moan – or a giggle. She wanted to do both. She saw him glance furtively at her through his thick, long lashes, probably to check if she were watching him. Of course she was, but she had on her super dark sunglasses. Paulo’s powerful muscles flexed divinely in his tight shirt and his beautiful hands were… magic. She looked downwards and she almost grinned.
Is that a substantial hard on for me, Paulo, dear?
Cassie's intense, shielded stare and the naughty things brewing in her mind had her breathing in tune with Paulo’s. Finally, she couldn’t control a low moan from escaping her lips. She hadn’t noticed it. All she knew were the ticklish feelings every time he touched pretty much any part of her. They were shooting up tender nerve endings from his fingertips, though her, straight to her. She did not know if he intended this, but by this time she did not care.
Magic fingers, sexy-fingered Paulo. You might as well just take those delicious fingers and poke ’em right in my cunt.
She closed her eyes and savored every sensuous moment of her limited time with him. Time was passing, the clouds slipping by overhead signaled so.
She knew that she might get carried away and someone might hear, although she truly felt no one else was in the beach but her and gorgeous, dark Paulo. But she knew she was wrong. The beach had people enjoying the sand and the water before she focused her eyes at Paulo. She tried to control herself and stifle her moans to a sigh.
He looked at her, not boldly, like you’d think a hot guy like he was would look at a woman or a massage client. He gazed up at her shyly, under his lashes, again, with those remarkable eyes of his. And the sun came out again, chasing the clouds away.
“How are you feeling, Señora Cassie?”
She nodded, unable to talk. Everywhere his hands landed and his fingertips touched her was pure heaven. She also felt the sun’s heat, the pressure and warmth of Paulo’s strong hands, the scent of coconut oil, and the breeze that ruffled his hair and tickled her softly against her cheek. Without thinking, she slid her hands over the plastic and metal edges of the beach chair, gripping so hard her knuckles paled.
I swear I’m going to get as tense and drawn tight as a bow and spill all over….
Their world darkened again, the warmth of the sun slowly dissipated and a cooling breeze took its place. Each time the breeze hit her she felt cooler and cooler.
Then colder. It was like an iceman were blowing his frigid breath on her, making her nipples stand more erect with the chill that crept up her skin. But Paulo’s hands only burned hotter, and so did her body. She imagined her nipples poking so hard they’d cut two revealing holes in her bikini top. Would he like seeing that result from all his industrious work?.
Paulo’s two hands kept kneading her, warming her against the very cold breeze. The rest of the world fell away. His hands were making her needy, until they slid down her shins to her sensitive ankles.
She frowned behind her glasses, eyes still closed, as she realized she felt him using his entire hands now, not individual fingers together, almost like he wore fleshy mittens. Huh. It felt so good, though, that she didn’t want to burst the bubble by looking. She just wanted to enjoy. She wanted to purr, while wondering how he could make his hands feel like that, firm but almost boneless. It was as if she felt a gentle, rolling motion of something fleshy and muscled, almost like a hand-sized tongue on the delicate inner sides of her shins all the way up her thighs and into her center as she parted her knees for him.
Damn. He’s not pretending now. This isn’t playing anymore. God, it felt so good..!
She moaned again as he teased her by massaging away down there.
“Paulo, you are magnificent. Again, please.”
She really shouldn’t ask it of him or encourage him. She didn’t want him to lose his job, or to stop. But, really, this man’s exquisite skill, and that tongue-like maneuver, made her feel so damn good, heightening her libido and cranking it way higher. The delicious rolling motion continued between her thighs—seductively, slowly, again and again. Each part of her body was tensing and aching in answer. It felt so good that she stayed that way, tense and resisting.
Can I cum, just from a massage? Mmmm. With him fuck-massaging me like this? Mm-mmm…
Cassie knew if she let her muscles relax in any way into the massage, she would involuntary shiver and moan, and that would give away what was really
happening to her. But she was so damn close. She didn’t want anyone stopping them. She didn’t want him stopping.
His magic-filled hands gripped hers, making her hands release their taut grip on the edge of her beach chair. She welcomed the shift, knowing her hands were next to be touched. She was pretty certain that she really would come just from glorious Paulo’s massage.
What the hell?!
Like a freak lightning storm, it hit her. A pair of hands was grabbing her wrists, but her inner thighs were still being firmly held and massaged by another pair of hands!
Cassie’s eyes flew wide open to utter darkness. She was completely lost right away, not knowing where she was, certainly no longer feeling like she was by the water, under the sun and getting a massage any longer.
Everything was suddenly… intensely, dark. Her heart pounded and she didn’t notice one of the hands releasing her wrist, allowing her to rip off her sunglasses.
Yeah. The sun was gone. The beach – gone. Ocean – gone. The darkness was like a dense blanket upon her. Like being immersed in Indian ink.
“Where am I?”
A hand seized upon her freed wrist, imprisoning her. When she tried to pull and squirm free, she couldn’t. Cassie tried to control the fright but it was like a pack of startled birds within her.
“Wh-What’s going on, Paulo? Paulo?” she demanded.
Then she realized – she wasn’t awake. She was still dreaming. And she was still with the man from the club of lust. She cocked an ear to hear Paulo answer. Nothing. Although the warm rolling, tongue-like massage still touching between her thighs continued quite aroused. Her eyes frantically searched the dense darkness.
Finally, a little bit of light revealed the dim outline of the silhouetted person in front of her. She was about to utter words of protest or a demand for information, but there was only one man in front of here so she calmed down a bit. It could only be Paulo.
Right? That was logical.