by Marata Eros
“Hey,” Dara said in a husky whisper. My oh my, Dara thought. Zoe caught herself a fine one here.
“Does she know?” Zoe's boyfriend asked and Dara shook her head to the negative. Not yet.
“Good,” he smirked, straightening the tie knot. His cuff links winked in the low light cast from the sconces that were head height and lined the walls of the mansion where the fireman's ball would be held. Dara came forward into a larger foyer, leaving the compact vestibule behind.
Darrell leaned down next to Dara's ear, inches taller than she. He turned her hand over, hers very white in his black one and leaning over Darrell kissed the inside of her wrist. “I'm going to enjoy fucking you,” he said as Dara's pulse began to speed under the caress of those fingers.
Dara was not some young girl that became flustered because a gorgeous man stood before her, telling her how he thought it would go.
Darrell simply was not well enough acquainted with her to know better. Ignorance was her friend.
Dara knew how it would go. And with Zoe involved, though she wasn't absolutely certain- it should go their way. So Dara just smiled and leaned closer, allowing her breasts to push against Darrell's muscular chest. “And Zoe will enjoy sharing me with you,” she murmured and had the satisfaction of watching his brows pick up in surprise.
“Well you're full of surprises, Professor Nichols,” he said, those dark eyes searching hers, hoping for clues. Her cool eyes gazed back, revealing nothing. The blessing of experience.
“You have no idea,” Dara replied and he let her hand fall, his eyes taking on that look of dark anticipation where ownership and surety had been moments before.
“I'm getting that.”
Zoe walked through the door and saw the two of them, her eyes assessing, missing nothing. Stupid she isn't, Dara thought. It made her pussy wet just thinking about Zoe's form of punishment. What she'd do to Dara's body when she found how she'd conned her.
It was so hot to contemplate that Dara pressed her thighs together.
Darrell watched the interchange between the two and licked his suddenly dry lips.
He didn't know how he'd get through this part of the evening without fucking them both. And Zoe had been worried about him being vanilla. He'd been with his share of women.
He didn't think they could surprise him.
Darrell was so wrong.
3
Zoe had consumed too much punch. She knew this because she was tottering outrageously on her heels, maintaining a balance that was usually automatic. Shoes were her weakness and Zoe collected them like she did men.
But her hunk-o-love firefighter was there to hold her elbow so she didn't face plant.
Dara was in a little better shape, those cat green eyes of hers watching Zoe covertly from across the room as a gaggle of tall firefighters loosened their ties and took their dates and wives out into the middle of the polished wood floor that had been meant for ballroom dancing at the turn of the last century, but was being used for barely better than a grind fest as the night wore on.
Strobe lights had been affixed in shadowed corners of the large hall, splashing their pulsing light in a random swirling pattern of dots of light. They fell on the swarming bodies of those who danced. Zoe didn't dance, though she could move with the best of them, but instead caught the random glances of men that looked her way. There was something that being only slightly drunk did: it heightened senses that were normally dull. Too drunk, and life slid by, washing over you. Too sober and it was a tedious tide of everydayness. Zoe was in that wonderful zone of the delicious chasm of hyper clarity and abandonment. Where every detail was there for her to see, to assimilate.
Her eyes narrowed. In her tipsy stupor she felt those surreptitious glances weren't so random and her gaze shifted to Dara again. Their eyes locked and Dara raised a slim white hand and fluttered perfectly manicured nail tips her way.
That bitch! Zoe fumed, She's up to fucking something.
Or fucking a lot of something, Zoe huffed. Dammit, she was used to calling the shots. She orchestrated all their bullshit shenanigans expertly.
But clearly not this one.
“More punch, baby?” Darrell whispered in a lilt, his full lips planted at the intersect where her neck met her collarbone and she kinda shoved him. “No! I don't want any more punch!”
“Hey baby, don't get like that....”
She turned toward him, her hands on her curvy hips and leaned forward into his personal bubble that she now owned. “Don't you 'hey baby' me; you and Dara have something going on?” Had Dara fucked her man? God- damn, Zoe spun on her heel, beelining for Dara. The alcohol fueling her like cold fire in her gut.
It was a bad combo. But Zoe wasn't thinking about that.
She was thinking about nailing Dara to the wall.
*
Dara's eyes widened when she caught sight of a volatile Zoe coming toward her, the heels of her stilettos stabbing the wood floor without mercy. Dara's eyes flew to Darrell's and he had that helpless look that guys sometimes get when they're not sure how to proceed in the minefield of females.
Maybe if Zoe was a guy he could have taken it in hand in a physical way. But Zoe was all-woman and on a warpath. Dara barely had time to admire that curvy figure strutting toward her before Zoe was in her face in a barely contained rage. Maybe too much punch.
“Something is going on, Dara- and I want to know what!” she all-but-howled over the beat of music that rained down around them.
The loose circle of firefighters, Darrell's close friends, tightened around her. “Come on Zo, let's talk about this somewhere else.” One of them said. Kurt, Dara remembered.
Dara dared to glance at Darrell again over Zoe's shoulder and she caught the look that passed between them. “See!” she shrieked, vindicated.
“It's not what you think, Zoe,” Dara began. But Zoe caught her arm, nails digging in. “Then what the fuck is going on? I've seen the looks between you two tonight, the looks from these other cock jugglers...”
Dara couldn't help it, a chuckle bursting out of her mouth and Zoe's lips twitched in response. It was damn hard to be pissed at Dara. There was just something about her that demanded attention. Usually of the sexual variety. But it was so fucking unfair. Dara had told her to go for it with Darrell. No holds barred. She was confused, her skin flushed, just enough booze down the pipe to muddle her senses, that weird clarity flashing in and out. And right now Dara was looking at her with barely contained lust.
Zoe's eyes shifted to Darrell.
Same look.
Suddenly, the wheels of her mind came to a grinding halt. She scanned the faces of the firefighters that weren't dancing. The only ones who weren't grinding out their bedroom moves on the strobe-lit dance floor.
Their expressions were a mirror of the half-burnt lust of her best friend and boyfriend.
Ah.
Zoe began to smile and a hesitant one lifted the corners of Dara's lips. A low, sexy chuckle erupted out of Zoe and she waggled her finger at Dara. “You're a very naughty girl.”
Dara could only nod, that treacherous smile hanging around her sexy red lips. “Takes one to know one,” she replied smoothly.
4
Darrell took Zoe's arm and she let him, a little flutter of excitement lighting in her chest as he exited through the back of the mansion. Dara followed, along with the four guys that trailed after them.
The music slipped away as the night embraced them and a building rose up on top of a knoll as it came into view. It was an old-fashioned firehouse. It wasn't in use anymore, Zoe knew, but she could see a low light flared inside one of the multi-divided windows. The cross-hatching of the quartzite was a subtle shadowing at the corners of the building and the only definition against the dark sky.
Darrell towed her toward the wide, barn-style doors and flipped the heavy bar off the brass clamps that held it closed and pushed them apart.
Zoe moved through and her eyes took in the space.
Everywhere she looked there were hoses. They hung from brass pegs embedded in the solid stone walls, the nickel worn through to the buttery brass that glowed softly in the low lighting. They were long. Like cloth ropes.
Sturdy.
Tie-able ....
Zoe turned on Darrell and his grin was a slash of white in the barely-there light of the huge building.
Dara came next and ran a nail lightly down Zoe's cheek, looking deeply into her eyes.
“I guess you're not the only one who likes a little tie-me-up.”
Apparently not, Zoe realized.
*
The men came at them like prowling tigers, each one a different height, a different color. All muscular.
Like unique flavors of ice cream.
Who could stand just one kind?
Zoe heard the tinkling sounds as the metal of cufflinks hit the hard floor of the firehouse, the ties softly falling to join them like dismissed jewel-toned flags and she waited, her palms sweating.
Not feeling in charge at all.
Feeling totally in charge.
The alcohol made her loose, boneless. Her personality made her bold. Zoe never lost sight of that as she went for Darrell like a starving animal, latching onto the tie he hadn't discarded yet.
Zoe heard Dara gasp from behind her and had time to notice her black skirt was hiked up to her waist, one of the men's hands buried underneath the bunched cloth, the other guy had his palm clamped at her throat as he came at her from behind, his tongue twisting with hers as she turned her upper body to meet him. The other fireman crouched down, fingers still playing with the folds of her pussy. No penetration.
Not yet.
Zoe had only a heartbeat to take it in before Darrell's friend- Kurt, disappeared beneath the fabric, his arms wrapping Dara's thighs as he pressed his face to her cunt and a low moan broke Dara's lips.
Zoe could hear the lapping and wet noises even over Dara's sounds of pleasure.
Darrell picked Zoe up, his huge hands on her ass, her legs wound around his waist. He strode to where the hoses hung against the stone wall as Zoe looked up and saw the pegs were installed at varying heights.
There was a peg pair that looked like twins, the metal nubs softly shining in the glow of light cast in the cavernous room.
Darrell centered her underneath them, pushing her against the wall. He pressed his dick against the center of her, splitting her lips and Zoe's breath caught in her throat. He nuzzled her neck, nipping and biting just shy of breaking the skin and it notched her shit up. Zoe parted her legs wider to allow him more deeply into the cradle of her body. “Do you trust me, Zo?”
Zoe nodded then said the opposite. “No... but I want to do it anyway,” she panted, grabbing him by the ears and jerking him forward, he winced at the grip as she slammed her lips against his, biting his lip until it almost bled.
“Ow... fuck,” Darrell said, licking his wounded mouth- he kissed her harder, brutally. Zoe ground back, giving what she was receiving. More.
“Goddamned, she's a spit fire,” Joe said at his elbow, his hand easing between them to squeeze her full breast as she tore into Darrell's mouth with an intensity that would leave bruising.
Darrell lifted his mouth from hers and looking into her eyes as she squirmed against his body and his fellow firefighter mauled her tit, he whispered, “You've been holding back...”
Joe took that opportunity to plow a finger into her wet hole and she gave a hoarse shout that echoed in the space, and answered, “Yes.”
“God... she's a tight one...” he said, pumping into her wetness while Darrell began the process of tying her off with the hoses. Zoe could feel the old cloth begin to restrain her as a stranger's fingers moved in and out of her in a deep pull and push of her slick walls. She closed her eyes, allowing the sensory overload to take her.
But Zoe had just enough presence of mind while getting finger-fucked to ask, “What are you doing, Darrell?” she gasped between the hot stabbing of Joe's fingers inside her vagina. Then Joe pressed his thumb to her clit and drove his four remaining fingers as deep as they would go and Zoe felt her head roll against the stone, her cheek against the coolness, it felt so fucking fine.
He didn't answer and God help her, Zoe let him, feeling the burlap-sack type fabric coil and wind softly around her lower arms.
Her eyes flung open as she heard Dara's pants of arousal and watched as Kurt held her underneath the arms and another dude had his hands on her ass as he ate her, her body the bar of an H between the two men. The moisture between Zoe's legs grew, seeing Dara with a guy's face shoved deep in her snatch.
That left one more dude, Zoe thought, her eyes dropping from Darrell tying her- to the man that drew nearer.
He carried a hose that had been made into something else.
It caused Zoe's breath to catch in her throat.
It was a horse dong without compare and she began to wiggle in earnest against the groping fingers and the tightening restraints of the antique hoses.
They meant to use that in her hole; she got wetter looking at it.
And for the first time ever- Zoe didn't know if she could manage it.
5
Joe chuckled. “Look at those eyes.”
Darrell gazed into Zoe's eyes that had widened like saucers and laughed along with his buddy. They were gonna fuck her good.
Vanilla his ass.
He surveyed his handiwork and nodded, satisfied. Her forearms were wound tight but not bindingly taut. He didn't want to hurt his woman. And God... was she.
Joe was still working his magic in that thick tight pussy of hers. Darrell loved her lips, fleshy flaps of goodness he liked to suck on. His gaze rolled over the smooth shaven folds and his dick got harder thinking about what would come next.
Darrell looked at the artwork of the hose. The cloth end had been knotted into a hard ball, the nozzle had been retrofitted by Kevin, who was on the stealth approach toward Zoe. Darrell watched her pupils eat the brown of her irises, her arousal obvious. Joe had hiked her ass up with one hand as she semi-dangled from the cloth cuffs he'd made out of the hoses. He pressed against her pleasure button and stuffed his fingers inside her wet snatch. The slick suction sounds from her cunt were a symphony to Darrell's ears and he held out his hand for Kevin. He slapped the specially-outfitted antique nozzle inside Darrell's large palm. It began to heat in his grip.
Darrell said, “Get the other fine bitch hung up boys,” Darrell threw over his shoulder for Kurt and Butch. They'd haul Dara over and hang the girls like fine morsels beside each other.
Darrell couldn't wait to catch the sight of the two hanging side by side. But in the mean time...
He glanced down at the special nozzle, the heavy brass made into a ball at its end then tapering to a thick cylinder about the width of a pop can. A smooth covering of nubby soft latex sheathed it smoothly, but not so thick as to leave in question the unique shape.
Darrell raised his face to Zoe just as she rolled over the shimmering edge Joe had taken her to with his fingers.
“There she blows!” Joe cackled, slowing to a languid spin of her clit and extracting two fingers. He was no fucktard; Darrell had told him how sensitive Zoe got when she peaked and he wouldn't drive her hard but coax her over that floating line of ecstasy.
Joe met Darrell's eyes and took his hand just as the small tennis-ball sized phallus breached her entrance. Zoe's mouth was slack but her head snapped straight up and her eyes rounded.
“No!” she managed in a voice thick with lust.
But Dara blew it, tethered to her right she called out in a low voice gone hoarse from screaming her orgasms into the air, “Fuck her with that thing... fuck her,” Dara said like a drill sergeant. Her face was turned in profile to Zoe's, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
Dara wanted to see.
Maybe Dara wanted to do it. “Only if you take this thing up your ass when they're done fucking me,” Zoe said in challenge.
Th
ey stared at each other in a swollen moment of warring gazes and then Zoe felt the nozzle begin to have its way with her and her head lolled back, her mouth parting as the toy speared its way inside her waiting cunt.
Darrell began to slowly slide the huge phallus inside those thick lips, he played it in the first third of her pussy, watching those tight slick walls of her pussy spread and accept the girth. He reached into his pocket and dropped a dime sized lube spot on the tapered cylinder and worked it harder. Zoe's back arched off the wall, her arms straining against the hoses.
“I can't take it!” she bellowed, the cords of her slim throat standing out.
God that's hot, Darrell thought, ignoring her- he pressed it deeper and watched the flesh of her hot pink cunt widen to take it deeper.
“Ah!” Zoe screamed and Darrell watched the deep flush of red crawl up her throat and spread against her cheekbones and knew she'd come if he could just fuck her all the way with the thing.
“She likes it hard, shove it in her cunt!” Dara yelled as Joe began to tie Dara with the hoses, her back pressed against the unforgiving wall as she was bound for the plunder.
Zoe was whipping her head back and forth, too fucking spread and turned on to say a word, her pussy so filled she didn't think she could move. Didn't dare move.
Then Darrell began to slide the thing out of Zoe and her body relaxed. The toy pulled against the sides of her vagina, every part of her gripping it, the length had to be close to ten inches and it hadn't been in all the way.
There was a moment when her eyes met Darrell's and he dropped that second dollop of silken lube on the phallus and then he shoved it back and Zoe panted through the sensation. The dong came to the end of her and she came in a painful burst of an atmospheric shift of consciousness. There was no room for Zoe's pulsating pussy to go, totally filled with the phallus but it bunched and clenched around the huge toy, sucking it in more until it gave a deep kiss against her womb. Zoe shrieked into the building, the sound banging around and filling the space.