by Alexis Angel
Grabbing his cock with my hand, I start stroking him softly, desire spreading its wings inside me. Instinct takes the steering wheel and, with my free hand, I grab my dress and hike it up to my waist. I flick my now wet thong to the side and guide his cock home, exhaling sharply as I feel its tip pushing its way past my pussy lips. Easing myself down, I only stop when his long inches are all inside of me, and then I throw both my arms over his shoulders.
I rock my hips back and forth, taking my time as I build up a rhythm. Right now, there’s more than lust dictating my pace; I feel closer to Sloane, his kindness toward me making me almost desperate for his embrace.
I thought that his body was engineered for fucking and not lovemaking. But I was wrong. Because right now we aren’t fucking; we’re making love. And it’s exactly what I needed now.
In his arms, I forget about everything, all the worry drifting away like leaves carried by the autumn wind.
Our bodies move in unison as if we are one, and we remain in silence just like that, our flesh making all the talk. Words are unnecessary; all I need is to feel him inside of me, his cock pulsing steadily as he rocks his hips against mine. He’s breathing hard, as hard as me, and the way he groans makes me close my eyes and smile. Yes, despite everything, I can still smile.
As long as Sloane remains with me, I can be happy.
Our rhythm grows fast and, thrusting harder, Sloane tangles his fingers in my hair and yanks on it, forcing me to throw my head back. He kisses my neck, nibbling at my tender skin, and then rolls over. Without taking his cock out of me, he lays me down on the couch and starts pistoning hard, his lips now locked on mine.
I kiss him all the way into oblivion, my body tensing up like straight wire. I feel my inner walls tightening up around his cock and I pull back from his kiss, moaning as an orgasm shoots up from my pussy and spears my brain.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I urge him to keep going, still swaying my hips as he fucks me. I want him to go all the way, and he doesn’t need me to tell him that; he can read that in my eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans, more to himself than to me, and then I feel his cock spasming violently inside my pussy. A second later, he starts gushing his warm seed into me, the ropes of muscles in his arms and chest bulging against his skin as pleasure takes over him. “Oh, fuck,” he repeats, his cock giving its final spasms inside of me, strands of cum dripping out of me and pooling on the couch underneath my body.
Pulling his cock out of me, Sloane sits up on the couch, his head thrown back against the headrest as he tries to catch his breath. I sit up by his side and reach for his hand, gently squeezing it in mine. I look into his eyes, and what I see forces me to turn my thoughts into words.
“You felt it too,” I whisper, pursing my lips as my heart calms down.
“Yeah,” he admits in a low, sorrowful tone.
As good as this was, sex without Drake simply isn’t the same; I know it, and he knows it. We’ve become three matching pieces and, now that one has gone rogue, we’re like an incomplete puzzle.
“Fuck this,” Sloane says suddenly, going up to his feet and pulling his pants up. “Let’s get out of here. I know what we need right now.”
I look at him and run my tongue between my lips, having no idea what could possibly make things better. It’s not like we can stroll into Drake’s office and force him to become the person we want (need) him to be.
“And what’s that?” I ask him, and his response makes my heart skip a beat. He grins and offers me his hand.
“I know a place where we can forget about all this fucking bullshit,” he tells me.
“Where?” I ask, but I already know the answer before he even opens up his mouth. There’s only one place we can go to right now.
“We’re going to Python.”
Natalie
“What the hell happened to Python?” I ask Sloane, looking at the cavernous main room we just stepped into. There are hundreds of people lounging there, drinks in their hands, and there’s a cheery atmosphere to the place. On the stage, three guys are dancing around a woman sitting on a chair, a crown propped up on her forehead; there’s a bachelorette party going on.
But that’s normal. Python has always been a crazy place where anything can happen. I’ve never been a regular, I just visited once or twice, but the first thing you noticed when you walked in was that Python was a place where you had to leave all taboo and prejudice at the door. That remains the same, but the place is completely different.
To start with, it’s not even in the same building. And while the old Python was just one floor, this one seems to have taken over a whole building, like some office tower, except instead of having floors packed with pencil pushers, they’re packed with horny women.
“The owner, Austin, got married,” Drake tells me offhandedly, his eyes wandering over the place as he tries to look for an empty booth—not an easy task.
“So?”
“He married Destiny, the one with the club on Broadway. They decided to expand, I guess, and they kicked it up a notch.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” I whisper, looking around the place completely in awe. Jesus, this place is like heaven on Earth. The old Python was completely amazing, but the new one just blows it out of the water.
“Sloane!” I hear a voice cry out, and I turn on my heels to see a man in a tailored Armani walk toward us. He’s a few inches taller than Sloane, and he looks as ripped as my stepbrother. And these eyes… Jesus, just looking at him makes my insides clench up.
“Austin!” My brother greets him and shakes his hand, clapping his arm. Austin? The owner? “It’s been a long time, man.”
“Yeah, too long. And this is…?” Austin asks, turning to me.
“She’s my… uh, she’s my sister. Well, stepsister. We’re not blood related, you know?” Sloane stammers, but Austin just smiles at that.
“I see. Nice to meet you,” he shakes my hand, and then winks. “Remember, you’re at home in Python. Real life problems stay at the door. Here, let me hook you up with a decent place.”
He leads us to a secluded place in the room, a luxury booth in the VIP area. Austin explains to us that Python doesn’t really have a VIP area, everyone is a VIP in here, but he reserves these booths for personal friends.
“Have fun,” he says with a wink, and then disappears back into the crowd. But not before whispering something into Sloane’s ear.
“You didn’t tell me that you knew him,” I whisper at him as a waiter comes to grab our order. Sloane simply shrugs.
“I met him through Drake. They’re good friends, and Austin’s a cool guy.”
“What was he telling you just now?” I ask him, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Well… I called him before we came here. He was just telling me that everything’s ready,” he flashes me his grin, and I feel my heart tightening up inside my chest. A surprise? At Python? Oh, God. “If you feel up to it, of course.”
“Of course I am,” I find myself saying even though I have no idea about what Sloane prepared for me. But it doesn’t matter; I trust him and, right now, all I want to do is forget about the mess Drake puts us in.
We go though a few cocktails—well, Sloane went for the whisky—and watch the men dance on the stage, the atmosphere in this place making me feel more and more relaxed with each passing second. No wonder the place is packed, this is amazing.
A shirtless ripped waiter comes to our booth again, but instead of taking the empty glasses and taking another order, he just nods at Sloane.
“We’re up,” Sloane whispers, getting up from his seat and offering me his hand. I go up to my feet, take his hand in mine, and that’s when the lights go out. I stand there in the darkness, having no idea about what’s going to happen, and then a single spotlight focus on me and Sloane.
He leads the way toward the stage, and my heart skips a beat when I realize what we’re about to do. Oh God, what have I agreed to?
We climb
the narrow stairs that lead to the stage and, the moment I step there, the spotlight around us widens and a barely audible music starts coming from the overhead speakers.
“Have you ever done this before?” I ask him, having no idea what this really is. I’ve heard rumors about what happens when you go on stage at Python, but I don’t really know the specifics.
“Never,” he says, grinning, and closes the distance between us, both his hands going to my hips. “But there’s always a first time.”
“Yeah,” I nod, a knot in my stomach. I always thought of myself as wild and adventurous, but right now, being on stage in front of hundreds of people is making my knees grow weak. “Let’s do this,” I say nonetheless, ready to embark on a trip to the unknown.
“Let’s do it,” he repeats after me, his voice blending with the anxious drumming coming from the speakers. The music starts slow and it’s barely audible, but it keeps on growing in a frantic crescendo, and my heart starts beating at that same rhythm.
Hesitantly, Sloane reaches for me, his fingers trailing up my arms all the way to my shoulders, and then he grabs the straps of my dress. I bite on my lower lip and nod, and he slides the straps down my arms, tugging on my dress until it’s bunched up around my waist.
Then, the music reaches its climax, drums and strings joining forces, and Sloane matches that wildness with one sudden movement. He hooks his fingers on my dress and pushes on it violently, sending it down to my legs. I step out of it and stand there under the spotlight, wearing only my matching black lace thong and bra.
Turning toward the crowd, Sloane offers the wild pack of horny women one of his million dollar smiles and grabs the collar of his shirt. He tugs on it harshly and all the buttons pop out at once, flying straight off the stage. I can almost feel the humidity in the room rising as the women gaze at Sloane’s bare chest, completely in awe with the cords of ripped muscles moving under his skin. Yeah, enjoy the show, I think to myself, but Sloane’s all mine.
I take one step toward him and press my chest against his back, my hands going around his torso. I slide the palm of my hands down his chest, going over the curves of his abs, and then I grab his belt. Unbuckling it slowly, I then take it out of its loop in one quick movement. Grabbing his zipper, I pull down his fly and peer over Sloane’s shoulder at the women in the first row. Their eyes are wide and anxious, and their mouths are hanging open as they notice the baseball bat hiding under Sloane’s boxer briefs.
Nibbling at his neck, I send his pants down his legs and he does the rest, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and boxers. Finally, he turns on his heels to face me, and his hands go back to my waist.
“Nervous?” he asks me, lust flaring up behind his eyes.
“Not enough to stop,” I admit, shivering as I feel the tip of his fingers going over my spine. He grabs the clasp of my bra and unhooks it; pushing the straps down my arms, I sigh heavily as my hard nipples meet the cool air in the room.
Leaning into me, Sloane brushes his lips softly against mine and I surrender to his kiss. His hands are on my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pulls me into him; our bodies are pressed tight, and I feel his cock straining against boxers and pulsing against my inner thigh. I’m of half a mind to simply yank his boxers out, push him to the floor and jump on him right now. But we’re putting on a show; I have to be patient.
I hear a rattling metallic sound, and I pull back from Sloane just in time to see two long chains descending from the ceiling. They’re a few feet apart, and from their ends dangle a pair of handcuffs.
Ready to submit entirely, I spread my arms to the side. Smiling, Sloane grabs the handcuffs and closes them around my wrists with a click. I move my arms, testing the hold of the chains, and I bite on my lower lip as I realize that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Which is exactly what I want.
Tugging on a rope a few feet apart from the chains, Sloane makes the chains go lower and I go down to my knees, my arms raised over my head now.
“TAKE IT OFF!” a woman screams from the crowd, and dozens of similar shouts erupt everywhere across the room. Chuckling to himself, Sloane turns to face the crowd once more, and walks close to the edge of the stage.
“YOU WANT ME NAKED?” he asks the crowd, his deep voice making my insides tingle. He hooks his thumbs on the sides of his boxer briefs and every single woman in the place goes mad, a chant of take it off, take it off! booming over the music. And that’s exactly what he does; with one single movement, he sends his boxers flying down his legs, his cock springing free like a steel rod.
Now they really go crazy. A few bouncers gather right in front of the stage, stopping the craziest one from making a run toward Sloane. Still on my knees, I hold my breath as he turns to me, his hard cock throbbing.
He walks up to me and, looking into my eyes, places both his hands on top of my head. I close my eyes and open my mouth, ready to have him in me; one second after that I feel the tip of his cock brushing over my lips, and so I just open my mouth even wider and gobble it all up.
I push my mouth down his shaft as fast as I can, his long inches rolling over my tongue until his cock is pressed tight against the back of my throat. Tangling his fingers in my hair, Sloane holds me in place and starts to thrust, moving his cock in and out of my mouth at a steady pace. He starts gently, but it doesn’t take him long to build a rhythm.
The music and the noises from the crowd fade away, and all that exists in my universe right now is Sloane’s naked body, his thick cock fucking my mouth. He does it fast and hard, the wet sound of my lips and tongue sliding over his cock driving me completely mad. For a second I almost wish for him to go all the way, to fuck my mouth until he explodes and gush a river of cum inside of me.
Lucky for me, Sloane knows we have to take it slow; we’ve just started. I open my eyes as he slides his cock out of my mouth, and I grin as he reaches for the rope next to him, tugging on it and making the chains that hold me slowly go up. I go from my knees to my feet and, the moment I’m standing in front of Sloane, he hooks his fingers on the string of thong that laces my outer thigh and pulls, ripping it off my body.
I gasp as I feel the fabric sliding out of my skin, but that’s all I have the time to do; he crushes his mouth against mine and slides his tongue past my lips, kissing me in complete abandonment as he cups both my ass cheeks.
My body reacting as if it has a will of its own, I use the chains for support and lift my legs up from the floor, lacing them around his waist and pulling him to me. I feel his shaft brushing against my wetness, and a maddening warmness starts spreading under my skin, blanketing my brain with a legion of lustful thoughts.
“Fuck me. Use me,” I tell him, looking into his eyes desperately. I need to feel his cock inside of my pussy, and I need to feel it now.
“Gladly,” he whispers, grabbing his cock with one hand while he grabs me by the ass with the other. He guides his member right where I need it to be but, instead of thrusting, he simply starts brushing its tip up and down the length of my pussy.
“Please… I need it now,” I pant, trying to move my body so that I force him into me. He doesn’t make me wait much longer; burying his fingers into one ass cheek, he thrusts with his hips and his cock slides inside of me in a fraction of a second.
I moan as I feel his warm thickness straining against my inner walls on the way, and my body grows weak as I surrender to pleasure. If I weren’t hanging from the chains, I’d just become limp and fall onto the floor.
As it is, Sloane places both his hands on my ass and starts pistoning into me, this time not even bothering with building up his pace. He goes hard right from the start, ravaging my pussy with all his strength. He’s putting all his weight behind his thrusts, and each time his cock goes all the way in it feels like I’m being pounded with a jackhammer.
“Harder… Please, harder…” I moan, needing to push him to his limits. I just don’t know if I can take it but, hell, I’m willing to risk it.
“So… fucking… tight,” he whispers between thrusts, fucking me so hard that beads of sweat are already forming on his forehead, his skin glistening under the bright lights of the stage.
“Ah, ah… So… So good!” I cry out, my body swinging back and forth from the chains as he completely demolishes my pussy. I feel my insides tightening up around his shaft and, knowing that I’m about to come, I throw my head back and grit my teeth, preparing both my mind and body for the tidal wave of pleasure about to crash against me.
“Oh, fuck… OH FUCK!” I shout, pleasure flooding my muscles like a tsunami. I scream until my throat feels raw, my body burning from the inside out as my heart beats so fast it might just burst.
At the same time, a slight spasm goes over Sloane’s cock and I realize that he’s close. He went so hard that he fucked me right up to the point of no return. Thankfully, Sloane is unlike any other man; he just stops thrusting and takes a deep breath, willing himself to stop. His cock becomes as hard as concrete inside of me, pulsing so hard that each time it does its ripples of pleasure spread from my pussy to my brain.
“That was fucking close,” he tells me with a grin, slowly taking his cock out of me. I take my legs out from his waist and let my feet touch the floor once more.
“Don’t give up on me,” I say, “because we’re just starting.”
“You bet we’re just starting,” he whispers in a barely audible one, looking over my shoulder. I’m facing the crowd, so I don’t see what’s happening behind me, but the looks of surprise and awe of the women in the front row tell me that it’s got to be good. No, more than good.
“Here they come,” Sloane continues and, in that exact moment, two men walk past us and head straight to the edge of the stage. They’re barefoot and shirtless, the only clothing in their body a pair of ripped jeans. Ropes of muscle go from their forearms to their shoulders, and their chests seem modeled after one of these Adonis statues.
More bouncers appear right in front of the stage, the female audience shouting and whistling so loudly that they almost drown out the loud music. A few of them don’t even care about the bouncers; they just press their bodies against them, throwing their arms over their shoulders as they to reach the stage and touch the men there.