by Zane
I take the hallway toward the ladies’ room, my taut nipples and ass brushing against the silky fabric of my dress as I stroll in my fly heels. I can feel the stares from both men and women as I pass them by. The adrenaline rush is powerful. It feels damn good to be noticed tonight!
I take a right turn toward the entrance to the restroom. A tall, dark-skinned sister with short caramel hair and large hoop earrings comes out and puts up her hand.
“Sista—trust me, you don’t want to go in there! It is way too foul. Take those stairs,” she says, pointing to the end of the darkened hallway. “There’s another one on the second floor.”
I nod and thank her as I head for the steps.
I climb the narrow stairs slowly as the pulse of acid jazz beats invades my chest. The space darkens and I have to hold on to the railing for support as I come to the landing, and proceed into a fog of smoky incense and near darkness. My fingernails trace a path along the wall slowly as I try to find my way. My heart begins to pound—is this the right way? Perhaps I should turn back. Before I can complete the thought, something brushes against my ass, and before I can react, a hand is thrust between my legs as I am pushed against the wall.
“Let me feel that puddy cat!”
The deep voice coming from behind me is completely unfamiliar, but his tone and the way he speaks those words has me pausing as a tremor runs the length of my spine. I try to turn my head in order to discern shapes, but it is of no use—the hallway is almost completely dark save for sparks of light that, like lightning, seem to come from overhead. I feel something on my backside again—a hand that palms my cheeks and traces the G-string downward toward my core. I shift to the side in protest, alarms going off in my head. Where is Damon? Who is this man? But then that soothing voice returns, and I can feel his breath on my cheeks as he presses himself fully into me from behind. He pins me to the wall, the rock of his manhood pressing into the cleft of my ass as he grinds his hips into me and whispers, “Don’t worry, Josey, everything’s cool. It’s time for your birthday gift.”
A part of me wants to scream for Damon. In fact, I feel his name form on the tip of my tongue and lips, but I can’t say whether anything emerges at all. The thumping in my chest is overpowering, excitement drowning out everything else.
I am led into a room off the hallway. It too is almost completely dark, but my eyes seem to be getting used to the dimness. I spy a red velvet couch by a dark window. I am led to it and made to sit down. I try to glance upward to see my abductor, desperately needing recognition to flood through my insides so that I can feel okay about what I’m experiencing. The intensity is rising in me like mercury, but the man gently turns my head away and grasps my hair firmly in his powerful hands.
I am blindfolded with a silk sash and commanded to lie down.
I do so, not knowing what else I can do. I feel my thighs begin to quiver, with anticipation or fear, I do not know.
At some point I call out for Damon, sensing him near, but the man with the deep voice is by me in a flash instead, his sweet-smelling breath on my cheek again.
I feel a pair of hands raise my dress and touch my inner thighs. My legs are gently parted as I feel a second set of hands circle my breasts. I suck in a breath as I feel my nipples tighten and stretch. My G-string is pulled to one side and instantly I sense fingers brushing against the lips of my sex. It is sticky with juice and I am breathing heavy as a mouth covers mine. I taste a warm tongue as someone else’s tongue begins to probe my cunt. My back arches as my legs widen. I am in heaven. My mind is racing. Where is Damon? I know this is his doing. I can feel him in the room—don’t ask me how I know, but he is close by. I just know he is.
The tongue deep inside me takes my breath away. It is not Damon, I am certain of that. The way this person is working me down there is unlike the way my man does. Don’t get me wrong—Damon is an excellent lover and can send me to heaven and back just with his lovely tongue, but he has a rhythm that is all his own. After sleeping with someone for over nine months you get to know their patterns and M.O. This isn’t him.
My breasts are freed from the confines of my dress; both nipples are taken hold of, squeezed, and twisted simultaneously. Then a mouth attacks them, first licking across and under my mounds before they are sucked into a mouth, one delicious nipple at a time.
A pair of fingers finds their way into my drenched slit. Before I can moan with pleasure, a tongue is thrust far inside my mouth, glazing over my teeth and fluttering against my own frenzied tongue that quivers like a flame.
“Does that feel nice, Josey?” the low, sexy voice asks me. I try to respond, but I find that I can barely speak. My breasts are being kneaded together, my tits pushed together like twin peaks until my nipples almost touch, and that wonderful tongue—which one I can’t tell you; I am losing track of the numerous tongues and appendages—flicks back and forth from one taut nipple to another, glazing my skin and raising gooseflesh. Down below, one of my many unseen lovers has begun to play with my clit, rubbing the engorged piece of flesh between a wet thumb and forefinger before tugging on it in a teasing kind of way. And then just as I spread my legs farther and think I’m gonna lose my mind, those quick fingers are replaced down there by an expert mouth—a mouth that slurps me up whole like an oyster and squishes my hot flesh between its teeth and tongue.
That’s when I cry out and come.
My nipples are pulled hard, enhancing the sensation as the waves of my orgasm roll through me.
Oh yeah, ya’ll. I come hard!
I attempt to holler again, but a slender finger is inserted into my mouth. As I suck on it longingly, I suddenly feel a long fingernail scraping against the roof of my mouth. The thought of a woman in the midst of this lovefest strikes me like a devastating blow to the face. I had thought about this a million times over, the possibilities of another female joining in, but Damon and I hadn’t made any firm plans yet. And now this! It is all happening so quickly that I feel myself grow dizzy. I try to concentrate; attempt to decipher which of my new lovers are male or female as they work their magic on me. Suddenly, the possibility of a woman kissing and licking me down there makes my face flush. This isn’t happening, I tell myself, but the head moving purposely between my legs says otherwise.
Abruptly I am yanked up to a standing position; my arm is held tightly as I am led out of the room. I can hear muted voices. I protest, yelling for Damon and demanding to know where I am being led next, but no one answers my calls.
Presumably, I am led back into the hallway, my fingernails finding the wall as they scrape across the smoothness of the surface.
Then we stop as quickly as we had begun. My breasts are heaving in front of me, remaining unsheathed from my dress. I try in vain to reposition my G-string, but a hand brushes my fingers away. I am pressed once again to the wall, and the hot breath on my face returns—the silky, sexy bass voice whispering in my ear, “Don’t move, birthday girl. Gotta hang here for just a moment more.”
I turn my face to the source, open my mouth to protest, but a large hand covers my mouth, preventing me from speaking. A finger slips in and I suck on it as if it were a candy cane.
I sense the back of my dress being raised, my ass cheeks are kneaded and palmed, and I spread my legs in anticipation. In a sudden flurry my G-string is ripped off my body. A stinging pain runs from my waist to inner thigh. I yell out, but the thick hand returns to cover my mouth.
“Sssshh!” a voice whispers forcefully as the full weight of his body presses against my bare flesh. I can feel him coming to life through the fabric of his jeans. My hand snakes down behind me, fingers spreading over the material of his pants as I feel his hardness. I leave my hand there for a moment, feeling him as he becomes engorged. My fingers alight from his pants as if they were on fire. The thumping in my chest has returned and I find that I am out of breath. I try to reconcile everything that has just occurred, attempting to decide what to do next. But it is hard—too many distractions, everythi
ng feeling better than it should.
Behind me, my abductor moves away from me for a few moments, and I have time to catch my breath, but barely. Then I feel him reconnect. This time, his sweet member is unencumbered—it is free. It bobs against my ass; without thinking I reach for it and take it in my palm. It is thick and pulsating as if it were alive. I rub my thumb along its latex-covered girth before my hands are removed and placed in front of me on the wall.
He presses into me, his breath tickling my neck as I sense him moving into position. His penis is close to my pussy—dangerously close. He rubs it against my lips, from side to side, and my flesh quivers with every stroke. My face is pressed against the cool wall; my thighs tremble as my eyelids flutter.
I tip my head to the ceiling where flashes and sparkles of light invade my blindfold, and I realize with sudden certainty that the man preparing to take me from behind is without a doubt not Damon!
I feel a mix of anguish and total sensual elation. I am in the midst of some public hallway, and with whom, I have no clue.
The weight of that thought is like electricity that courses through my veins.
What should I do???
The thought is fleeting.
He slides his thick member slowly up the crease of my ass and back down toward my cunt. I tremble at the thought of gripping him between my velvety folds. I am offering up my firm ass and lithe hips, daring him to entomb himself in my reservoir.
My breath is weak.
I am near exhaustion.
Perhaps I am about to faint.
I am sliding down. I can feel it.
I try to remain strong, but my willpower is ebbing away, like the tides. Part of me wants this so badly I can taste it. In a moment, I will have no resolve left.
Then he will have his way….
Behind me, my abductor has taken hold of his member and pointed it at my opening. Juices are meandering down both thighs—I am that wet. The air around me is charged. I hear him exhale, slowly and forcefully, as he inches toward my molten core….
A smattering of bombs goes off simultaneously inside of me. The anticipation of things to come is replaced by vivid unfiltered reality. The hardness of his thick strength passes slowly through the opening to my sex as he accelerates toward the end of my womb, filling me up in an instant, a feeling so surreal that for a moment I think that I may be imagining this scene. But the culmination of my expectations has finally taken place. He is fucking me now, his manhood seemingly alive inside me. I feel his hot breath on my neck as he pumps me with abandon. And for the first time this evening, I choose to lose myself in this joining, the slapping of flesh against flesh as he takes me from behind, no longer wondering who this lover is or what the consequences will be if he isn’t mine. For now, I am enjoying the ride, the way he fills my pussy with his wand, which seems to sparkle inside of my wet folds, energizing me with its rhythm and song.
I am pressed into the wall, my breasts mashed by his powerful body. But I am not complaining. The sensations, which I feel at this moment are localized at my core but expanding outward like a supernova, are indescribable.
Behind me, he is grunting in time with his frenzied thrusts, a hurried cadence not at all unlike techno. His powerful hands are palming my ass cheeks as his fingers squeeze my flesh, dizzying my senses with his spells and incantations. This, my friends, is further evidence that the man behind me is not Damon.
Damon doesn’t behave like this….
Before I have time to fully contemplate this notion he exits me quickly, and like a balloon losing its air, I feel the sudden emptiness, a void where he once existed, and I’m left twitching like a junkie, longing for one more delicious fix, if just for a fleeting moment more.
I find we are moving again, my fingernails scraping against the wall as my captor leads me toward my next surprise. I am calling out Damon’s name and yelling for my abductor to slow down, panting as my words catch in my throat, but my shouts go unheeded. We slow, I hear my captor whisper a single word that becomes a command: “Step,” and I am climbing once again. Before long, we reach a landing and take a sharp turn to the right. I am breathing heavily from the exertion—both sexual and physical. Then another set of stairs presents itself and I am forced to climb. I choose this moment to pause stubbornly, pulling back on my captor’s arm, demanding to know where I’m being led. Simultaneously I reach for my blindfold, but my hand is slapped away.
The nighttime air hits me without warning. We are outside; I can feel a light gentle breeze on my skin. I hear sounds—the din of the distant evening traffic, muted conversations, an occasional honk or blaring of music from a car stereo as someone passes by. And something else—I hear water. Running water. I turn my head toward the source as I’m led forward.
“’Bout time,” a female voice says. “I was beginning to wonder.”
The voice is familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Just warming her up for ya,” the guy with the sexy tenor responds.
“Yeah? Well bring her on over.”
The sound of running water is louder as we move farther into the nighttime air.
“Watch yourself,” the male voice says, taking my arms and placing them down in front of me on cold concrete. Flecks of water spatter against my face. Instinctively, I straighten up, but he is there behind me, blocking my exit. His hands are tracing slow circular patterns along my dress from the middle of my back to my ass, and his touch is magnetic. I feel a shiver as it traverses my spine. A pair of hands grasp my head and gently pull me forward.
“Come to mama,” the female voice intones.
Before I can respond my nose brushes against coarse hair. My face is tilted upward, guided by soft hands, and I inhale the scent of a woman. My heart is racing and my arms are trembling. I place them on the cool cement for support as I feel cool drops of water against my forearms. There are so many thoughts flowing through my head at this moment. Everything is happening so fast. I try to ascertain my surroundings: the sound and feel of running water, cool cement, distant automobile sounds, this female who is hauntingly familiar, but then all of that fades to oblivion as I am guided to this woman’s pussy.
Her lips brush against mine. I feel the rise of her flesh. It is warm on my mouth and I slowly, almost imperceptibly, move my head to the right so that I can feel her along the length of my lips. When I lose contact, I retreat the way I came, this time parting my lips as I take in a deep breath, swallowing her womanly scent, and taste a woman for the very first time.
The first thing I notice is that her vulva is soft and smooth. I run my tongue upward along the shaft of her lips; like a flower they part, revealing sweet nectar within. She gasps as I taste her. I take my time, letting her sap coat the tip of my tongue, glazing me with its flavor before it disappears into my mouth as I swallow it down. From behind me, my lover has raised my dress; I part my legs automatically and in one fluid motion he stuffs his beast within me. The movement thrusts me forward. My tongue, which had been darting teasingly between the soft folds of her sex as if playing hide-and-seek, is suddenly thrust deep into her waiting canal. She grips my head tightly as I feel her thighs surround my shoulders. I exhale forcefully and groan against her cunt as I’m being pummeled from behind, my palms pressing into concrete, the sound of rushing water intoxicating, the gentle breeze setting my dress and hair in motion as cool drops splatter against my hot skin.
I reach up for support, my hands gliding along supple thighs to stomach, upward to her tits, which hang defiantly. They are heavy, yet soft to the touch; hard nipples surrounded by waxy areolas that I caress as her whimpers meet my own. As I grit my teeth, I concentrate on squeezing my lover’s manhood tight with my own sex, encircling him within my juicy tunnel in an effort to slow him down. But he is unrelenting—a piston that keeps cranking in and out, in and out, with no letup in sight. And so, I give in to the sensations that wash through me—this delicious feeling of receiving and giving love in tandem. A thread of energy passes from t
his unknown male lover through my body to hers as we unite, three strangers who connect for the express purpose of making passionate love. It’s a feeling beyond description—when you gaze upon naked flesh, shivering in anticipation as he enters you for the first time. And I am not ashamed nor do I feel polluted. This force that flows through our bodies is too delectable to ignore.
A sound off to the left startles us in mid-movement. A cough and a voice pierce our reverie.
“Think I’ve had enough of this.”
A voice I know all too well.
Damon’s.
“Baby?” I shout.
Behind me, my male lover has slowed his thrusting. He pats my ass as if saying good-bye and then backs away, pausing as the head breaches my engorged pussy lips, allowing both of us one last second of tactile pleasure before he pulls completely out. In front of me, my female friend too has disengaged herself from me, and I am left with her scent and taste on my tongue as it darts between my teeth, searching for more sustenance. Her hand tussles my hair once before she moves away.
“Was wondering when you were gonna join in,” my lover says. I straighten up as my dress cascades down my thighs. I use this opportunity to tear the blindfold away from my eyes.
We are outdoors on some kind of rooftop deck. In front of me is a circular fountain. Tables and chairs litter the deck surface. Damon, to the left by the ledge, is sitting back in one of the chairs, fully clothed as he stares unblinkingly at me. On the table nearby is a martini glass and an ashtray that holds a smoldering cigar. He grasps it gingerly between his fingers before placing it to his lips and taking a long puff. All the while, his eyes never leave me. He cocks his head to the side toward my male lover, a tall, dark man, clad only in a tight black T-shirt that shows off his muscles. I can’t help but notice he is well endowed. His head is shaved and his eyes are dark. He is unfamiliar to me. He shoots me a smile that I have trouble returning. Next to him stands a curvy nude woman who reaches for Damon’s cigar as she eyes me curiously. Her short caramel hair stands out even in the shadows of nightfall, and suddenly I recognize her from downstairs—the woman who spoke to me as I was heading to the ladies’ room. That moment seems like a lifetime ago with all that has transpired between us.