JUST PREY
Savannah: Book One
By C.P. McClennan
Future Releases by C.P. McClennan
July 1, 2015 – The Chronicles of Fifi
TBD – Savannah Book Two
Copyright © 2015 by C.P. McClennan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/
“Stranded in Toronto” logo design by Dig It Digital, http://digitdigital.com/
To my muse…the one that continually tugged gently at me to get this bloody book finished for the last twenty months, and the one that held my towel while I was typing.
Part One
Enter Savannah
I
February 14, 2017…Chicago, IL
“Well, I was hoping we might have sex.”
Gerald’s drink glass slipped from his hand and slammed down on the side table. Luckily, he had already been lowering it to put it down before her statement made him drop it from a two-inch height. “You were?” The question was more yelled than asked as the loud hump of bass from the pulsating dance floor made quiet discussion impossible.
Sheila batted her eyes at him. “Of course. Isn’t that what people do on Valentine’s Day in Canada?”
“Past tense?” He shifted on the couch and glanced out to the dancers briefly.
“Oh no, I still want to fuck your brains out. Sorry, have to watch my words around the writer.” Her right hand squeezed his muscled left shoulder.
“I’m not a writer. I drive a truck. The writing is just a hobby.”
“Hobby, my ass,” Sheila said with a grin.
He looked around the club and watched the dancers hokey pokey about to the latest dance tunes in the dark basement-like room. Gerald had little interest in whatever these tunes were. He would have been intrigued were the tunes by the likes of Rush, Genesis or Pink Floyd, but he knew that in the 21st Century those were musicians rarely heard of in dance clubs. “So it is just like that? I figured we would meet tonight, have a few drinks and maybe next time.”
She giggled. “It is a swingers club. It is just like that. You’re cute, you’re intelligent and I’m horny…what more do you want?” Eyelashes batted at him. “Is it a big truck?”
“Remember, it is my first time here. I’m not exactly used to…” He ran a finger into the neck of his shirt to loosen his tie. Really, he had expected something classier and had dressed for the occasion in a three-piece navy suit with matching tie. The attire was a perfect choice to show off his physique, but left him feeling severely overdressed when compared to the office-casual-Friday feel that most of the other male patrons had dressed to.
The women, however, including Sheila, were dressed to kill. “I just offered you my pussy…are you refusing?” Riding halfway up her thigh, the skirt of her strapless little black dress allowed just a hint of the lacy top of the stockings she had chosen for the evening while, at the same time, allowing for ample cleavage.
“No, but…” Looking at her, Gerald understood how women’s fashions made men go cross-eyed. He had watched as the thigh-high boots had gone from sex-worker fashions to an everyday staple for some women and assumed this club, with its sultry-sexy-slutty wear, demonstrated the future of women’s fashions.
Sheila leaned in close to his ear causing brunette curls to fall over his shoulder as she pointed. “See that guy over there? The one with the blue golf shirt three sizes too small and looking like he is having a seizure on the dance floor?”
Gerald followed her gaze. “Yes.”
“He’ll help me blow you if you like. The dude is completely bi. He has a massive cock that is a fun ride and a velvet tongue that you’ll love if you swing that way. Oh, and Petra there in the corset and hot pants, she would love to help too…she lives to break in newbies like you. She’ll be so jealous when I’m riding you first.”
“When?” Gerald picked up his drink and took a long gulp of his cola and spiced rum.
Petra swayed on the dance floor fighting to keep her balance as much as actually dancing. The hot pants were dark red and her black thigh-high boots matched the corset.
“Promiscuous lot, aren’t you.”
“Is that a question or a statement?” Sheila twirled a finger in her shoulder curls as she thought about his words. The look on her face suggested he had insulted her, but it melted quickly. “Damned right we are, but we play safe.”
“I didn’t mean to insult…”
“Connotations of the word, hun. It is like the words whore and slut…really it is a good word used right. I’ve fucked ten different men here tonight…well, not tonight. Five of the women…so I am promiscuous by the real definition of the word.”
Gerald brought his drink to his lips only for a sip this time. His eyes remained wide and his mouth remained shut.
“I love sex…what’s wrong with that?”
A shrug and a final gulp to finish his drink were his initial responses. “Not a damned thing.”
She leaned forward on the couch to whisper in his ear again, “Good, now let’s get a look at you.” Finding his zipper-pull without searching, she tugged.
Gerald jumped. “Shouldn’t we wait until we get into the back play area?”
Reaching inside his fly, she allowed her eyes to glance at the couple beside Gerald.
Once again following her gaze, he was amazed that he had not noticed the blowjob that the blonde was currently giving the guy sitting beside him on the couch.
The blonde briefly caught Gerald’s gaze and winked at him…with her mouth full, there were no words exchanged.
Turning back, Gerald jumped again with the feeling of fingers wrapping around his newly hardened erection.
Sheila slipped from the couch and down to her knees in front of him. Her left hand tugged at the waistband of his briefs until she had the erection directly in her crosshairs. “Very nice. I may have to keep you,” she growled after a brief inspection. Her tongue lashed out and flicked the tip. Batting eyelashes, her look turned to that of shyness. “You really want to wait until we’re in the back?”
The gentleman beside him laughed. “Nice work, Sheila. You show him.”
With the music, Gerald could not tell if the man’s accent was British or Australian, however he was certain he somehow recognized it.
Sheila looked up. ”Gerald, meet my husband, Nigel.”
Gerald shook Nigel’s hand in what seemed like the oddest introduction he had ever experienced. It would be curious to find out just how many men first met and shook hands while each getting a blowjob. His mind quickly went elsewhere as he felt Sheila’s mouth sheath his entire erection to the point where her tongue slipped out and played with his testicles. Closing his eyes, he leaned back on the couch until his neck rested against the fabric.
The music quieted to a slower piece that even Gerald recognized. Good as dance tunes were, the DJ here knew that the Dave Matthews Band tune Crash Into Me helped set the right mood as the pre-orgy part of the evening was coming to a close.
“Good girl, Sheila!”
This time Gerald placed t
he voice…the old Monty Python reference to Australians and ‘Sheila’ stereotypes had thrown him off, but it was definitely British. He turned to the man. “Nigel Banks?”
Nigel nodded. “In the flesh.” His non-drink hand patted the blonde head of the woman in his lap.
“I’ve heard your show,” Gerald said with a smile before returning his gaze to Sheila. The surreal scene would be one that would play out often in his head, after this.
“Thanks for listening.” Nigel was the ‘morning man’ on C-D-Y-M in Chicago. Truly, ‘shock-jock’ was the better term, as he was known for parent groups trying to get him taken off the air due to his extreme sexual content. “Sheila, here, is my wife and my producer.”
Sheila offered a hand to shake without removing her mouth from him. Her eye contact wavered, however, to something behind Gerald. Releasing the erection she grinned. “Savannah!”
“I’m sorry, but do I know you?” The female voice had a slight southern lilt and though soft, still rose above the tunes.
Leaning his head back on the couch to look up, Gerald’s eyes popped open as he saw her.
Everything on the woman was long from her wavy brunette hair to her legs to the lashes over her big brown eyes. A sheer white blouse offered a view of the red bra beneath that matched her red mini-skirt and red stiletto pumps.
Gerald did not know her, but he wanted to. There was something familiar about her, but he could not place it. His mind, however, went a completely different direction forming a thought that he might just be looking at his future. That, upon meeting her, his cock was being sucked on by another woman simply added to the strangeness of everything.
“Oh, I’m sorry, hun. I thought you were someone else. I’ll leave ya be.” She tapped his shoulder lightly and clipped away. It was not the first time Savannah had seen him, but she needed to plan before deciding her next action.
His eyes followed her curved ass as it went away. One part of his mind wanted to stand and follow. The other part of his mind was enjoying Sheila’s work a little too much and, as he snapped back to the matter at hand, he realized Nigel’s fingers were now tickling his balls as well.
“That was the lovely Savannah, my friend,” Nigel informed him. ”Our southern belle you might say.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“That she is,” Sheila agreed now down to working her hands up and down his length.
“The accent is fake, though,” Gerald added.
Nigel and Sheila exchanged a glance. “What the fuck does that matter?” Nigel asked.
“We were lucky enough to play with her a couple of times. I don’t think she plays quickly.” Sheila gripped a little harder and released.
“Well, maybe one day I might be so luck…oh fuck yeah…” Gerald lost his voice with the surge he felt.
Sheila sensed what was cumming and took him back into her mouth until finished.
Much as Gerald had enjoyed the blowjob, his mind focused on Savannah. Never before had he felt such want or hunger for any woman as he did right now…sitting on a couch in a swingers club with his quickly softening erection hanging out of his pants.
As the evening went on, all the club-goers moved to the back rooms of the club for play. All the men were in nothing but towels while the women were either in towels or various forms of lingerie. The music still playing on the dance floor was muffled back here but set a much softer tone.
Single guys stroked their own cocks and mingled around the couples that frolicked. Whether watchers or dreamers, they were generally ignored and seen as creepers among those enjoying the pleasures of swapping and sharing. The singles passed between writhing bodies that moved to both rhythm of the muffled tunes and the beat of their own drummers.
Caught up in the mood and six drinks in, Gerald finally got to play. He had followed Nigel and Sheila back to the locker room where all clothes were hidden and locked away. Then they pulled him to the back area where they picked a mattress in the middle of one of the larger play rooms. Being Gerald’s first time at such a club, this point took a lot of effort getting past his own insecurities of having an audience for what he had always seen as a private act. Without the alcohol, he never would have gone this far. The others already playing around them had him on sensory overload already.
Sheila was not long in getting him erect again, however. She slipped a rubber on before mounting him for her first ride. Nigel positioned behind his wife in preparations for being the second penetrator in this scenario.
Gerald grasped Sheila’s hips and began thrusting up into her. Closing his eyes he just felt the sensations and warmth of Sheila’s pussy, the brushing of Nigel’s balls against his own, and the screams of the surrounding orgasmic people. Flopping his head to one side, he opened his eyes to find Savannah looking directly at him. The sight of her, in all her brunette glory, made everything else seem numb and go mute.
She sat alone on one of the couches in nothing but her white towel. A few single guys stood around her, each hoping she would choose them for her evening romp. Her eyes, however, were fastened upon Gerald…had been watching him all along, in fact. She stood, towering over the single guys, and pushed past to step towards the threesome. “I do know you,” she said with a smile.
Gerald, mid-thrust, laughed. “I don’t think so.”
Lowering to her knees, she leaned down to him. Her lips found his lips and her tongue split them apart as it went in search of his as well.
The thrusting stopped as the kiss broke. Nigel and Sheila both turned to watch as the music from the other room continued to beat.
“She’s never hooked up with me like that,” Nigel said under his breath.
Savannah wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged Gerald out from under Sheila, keeping him flat on the mattress. She straddled him and pulled the condom off of him, quickly replacing it with a new one and then the ride began. They moved together like the wind and clouds, slowly but with such need to be together.
The surrounding crowd sensed something and the number of creepy-single-guy voyeurs increased…even the women stopped to watch as this perfect couple fucked.
Savannah began to moan, quietly at first and then with each thrust of Gerald’s hips up into her louder and louder. Then Gerald’s own gasps and moans began to join her as the pace quickened. Sitting up beneath her, he wrapped arms around her and grabbed a handful of her hair to tug on.
Her red nails scratched his back as they grew faster. Her skin began to lighten and illuminate the surrounding room.
“She’s glowing,” Nigel whispered. ”I’d swear she’s glowing…holy fuck, she’s lighting up.”
Others whispered similar observations before hands started to come up to protect their eyes.
The room grew to the level of daylight as Savannah exploded faster and faster down onto Gerald until, with one last scream her eyes widened to reveal red pupils…there was a lightning-flash…and all fell dark.
As eyes adjusted, all stared at Gerald sitting there…his condom full of his sperm and his head obviously full of confused thoughts.
Savannah, however, was no longer there.
The confused voyeurs remained frozen, just looking around.
One man, however, with near glowing green eyes shook his head. He had watched the entire event from one of the couches. Standing, he adjusted his towel and made his way towards the exit.
II
February 15, 2018...Frankfurt, Germany
Gerhard Brohl sat in front of his television, completely breathless while it squawked at him, showing an old episode of “All In the Family” that had been translated into German. Had Gerhard been breathing, he would have changed the channel. He hated these American shows.
Well, he had hated…but again, he was breathless…
III
June 3, 2016…over the Atlantic en route to Atlanta
Captain Gerhard Brohl scratched his beard and checked his instruments one more time. These modern jets would pretty much land thems
elves, but he still did not trust them. He believed there were too many airline crashes blamed on pilot error rather than on the true culprits…programmers. In his twenty-five years of flying commercial airlines, there had never been any incidents and he would never allow reliance upon computers to cause one now.
In the distance, the east coast of North America was hinted at between the clouds.
Today’s flight plan would take them inland just south of Charleston, South Carolina. From there the craft would bank southwest and straight into Atlanta. Only one hour was left in the flight that had left Frankfurt, Germany at 9 am local time. Thanks to time zones, it would touchdown in Atlanta for lunch.
Gerhard’s mind wandered to his wife, Melinda. She would be home with the kids, perhaps at the park after having made dinner this evening. Young ten-year-old Antony would give her a hard time when bedtime approached. Little four-year-old Giselle, however, would say “yes, mama” just to make her older brother look bad.
A chuckle escaped Gerhard’s mouth with this thought. At least he would claim it was that thought if anyone other than his copilot asked. The laugh, however, was more caused by thoughts of the blowjob he would be getting long after those children were in bed.
At home in Frankfurt, Gerhard played the conservative father part well. None would guess that he had well-used current memberships strip and swinger clubs all along the North American eastern seaboard, from Key West to Halifax. Truly, he had at least one woman in every port.
In Atlanta, he had three. First was Carly, the bartender at the Hilton lounge where he would be staying. She had lips that just fit around his cock perfectly.
There was also Megan, a transplanted Canadian that worked as a correspondent in the southeast United States for the Canadian Broadcasting Association. Gerhard always thought of her as a model with brains. Her legs always treated him as though he was being squeezed by a boa constrictor.
Just Prey: Savannah - Book One Page 1