Pleasure Extraordinaire 1 (PURSUIT)

by Liv Bennett

  I run my fingers on the oily limb before circling them around it. It’s so big my thumb can’t reach my other fingers. I wish I could be a man for a day to get to know how they feel the sexual desire. Is it all around their dick with equal amounts or located more on certain spots?

  I send him a mischievous smile, before licking his dick from base to head, and then slip it into my mouth. He groans, a hint of panic widening his eyes. I lower my head to get him deeper, and the head of his dick hits the back of my throat. I don’t feel any gaging reflex whatsoever—must be the orgasm that’s relaxed all my muscles—so I bob my head up and down around his dick without caring about gaging.

  I can hear his breathing getting deeper and louder. His legs begin trembling under my hands. I push them to stop the annoying movement and pull his dick out of my mouth, glancing up at him for his reaction. “You’re not allowed to come yet.”

  I grip his shaft right below its head and squeeze it gently to stop his sperm from shooting, enjoying the pulsation of his dick in my palm. When his moment of orgasm is gone, together with the trembling of his legs, I mouth him again and grab his balls to massage them. Slowly, my hand sneaks below them, rubbing the region between his testicles and butthole.

  The trembling of his legs returns, and I’m forced to take him out of my mouth again to prevent him from climaxing. I’m not yet finished with him, and I’ll make him pay several times more for what he did to me.

  He has yet to open his mouth to speak his objection. His speechlessness is only adding to my pleasure. If my afternoon lover is indeed watching this, he must have already come. Maybe even a few times. Not good, because he won’t have any more fuck left for me. Which goes to show I should enjoy the moment with Mr. Ice now that I have him in my hand. In a literal sense.

  I shower his cock with the vast amount of saliva my mouth is producing and take him into my mouth again. My finger sneaks back between his legs and reaches up his butthole. I wonder if he’s ever been touched there. I have no idea if he likes men too, and lets anyone fuck him there. I probe the entrance gently and a bundle of firm muscles push my finger back.

  Looks like a no.

  When his legs start shaking again, I start to pull back, but he fists his hands through my hair and thrusts his dick deep into my throat. I’m not upset by having him take control. Just shocked.

  He fucks my mouth with a primal force, hitting the head of his cock deep into my throat. The heat and desperation his body is emitting is making my sex itch with a fully renewed desire.

  I continue stroking his balls and prostate while I suck him with vigor and determination, remembering the hurricane in me only a few minutes ago. Just when the thrusts get furious and the trembles stronger, I push my finger into his hole. His body stiffens on the spot, but I keep my finger there, probing his muscles gently for permission to enter. The second I get my permission and slide my middle finger inside him, he sprays hot spurts of sperm, blasting into my throat. Before I know it, though, his hand yanks mine away.

  “Nobody touches me there,” he growls and pulls himself out of my mouth.

  I drop on my butt and watch him storm out of the room. What’s got into him now? Has the little game he started turned out to be not so much fun for the crybaby?

  11 - The Lover

  I take another shower to wash away the sweat from my body and put on the dress I came in with. If Big Boy decides to decline me because I’m not wearing the sweat-soaked dress he picked out for me, then he can go fuck himself, because I’m not going to put up with any more of his caprices.

  Once dressed, I find the bottle of coconut oil and apply some to my vagina, expecting it to revitalize the desire that the shower diminished to some degree. I remind myself to buy a bottle or two for myself for later.

  After I’m done oiling myself, I wash my hands and head out, a little nervous about meeting Mr. Ice after his stormy exit. I open the door to his office and meet his composed expression as opposed to my wild heartbeats.

  He’s a little distant, I can tell, but otherwise, the usual coldness on his face is replaced with a warm smile. “Nick is expecting you outside and will walk you to your suite.”

  “Thanks. I… I had to take a shower but I applied some of that coconut oil.”

  He nods and snaps his eyes from mine. In shame? Perhaps I should apologize for having tested the forbidden waters of his buttocks, although he’s the one who’d started everything. But, I feel bringing up the topic will embarrass him more than it’ll do any good.

  “I’ll go now.”

  He stands, walks around to open the door for me and tells Nick to take me to the winter suite before wishing me a great afternoon.

  I masturbated in front of a man and then sucked him out, but I don’t feel the slightest shame in me for going to another man for another round of sex. And, no trace of the heartbreak I felt after being with JJ. Am I finally getting desensitized toward sex?

  The thing I did with Mr. Ice can hardly be called sex, though. It was like fucking in an animalistic sense. We didn’t even kiss each other. No words of admiration were exchanged. Only plain sucking and fingering.

  Maybe that’s exactly what I need to do to truly enjoy the delicious fruits this place has to offer. No kissing, that will make my heart flutter or cause emotional attachment and no talking afterwards. Just meet, fuck, and thank you very much. It sure worked with Mr. Ice. I feel nothing for him. No resentment, no heartache after we were done. Why shouldn’t it work with the man I’ll meet in a few minutes?

  I’ll test my assumption, and if that’s indeed the key to my problem, I’ll have a hell of a lot of hot, sweaty times in these four walls of indulgence.

  I glance at Nick over my shoulder and notice he’s just a boy compared to JJ and Mr. Ice. Not that he’s ugly in any sense. He’s beautiful, but a boy, nonetheless. Immature and inexperienced. There must be several women who’d enjoy their men innocent, but I’d rather have the dirtier ones with years of experience under their belts.

  Hoping my lover for the afternoon will have a mature and manlier look with a wide variety of sexual encounters in his past, I walk silently beside Nick. We stop at the same suite I was in the last time with JJ.

  Nick opens the door, although I didn’t hear a sound from the other side of it, and I’m confronted with a dark room. Are we going to play hide and seek? Or perhaps my lover is on the shyer side of the confidence scale. I can’t say I’m liking it, though.

  “Welcome,” I hear a deep voice but can’t see anything through the dark.

  “Can we turn on the lights, please?”

  “In a moment.” Hands grab my waist, and I’m pulled against a body so hard it hurts as if I hit a concrete wall. I hear the door closed behind me.

  That I can’t see him right now isn’t too bad actually, for my skin is enjoying being the main sensory organ while I explore the contours of the naked body before me. As soon as he locates the zipper of my dress, he unzips it and lets it pool around my feet. That move makes us equal in nakedness since I have neither a bra nor panties.

  He presses me against him, and I feel wet lips showering my throat and shoulders with harsh kisses as if he’s trying to engrave his lips on my skin.

  I move my hands up and down his thick arms and scratch his back from his shoulders to his round ass cheeks, all the while pushing my hips against his, pressing his cock between our bodies.

  I want to sneak my hands to have a feel of it, but he grabs both of my hands and pins them behind me before I can even try.

  What is this? I can’t see, I can’t touch?

  At least his lips are doing good work to take my mind off the less-than-stellar conditions of our meeting. His hair tickles my throat as he pushes my hands farther back and leans down to suck my breasts. Before I know it, his hand that’s not grabbing my wrists like cuffs moves between my legs and begins stroking me there.

  Has he watched how I got off only a few minutes ago? He must have. That’s why he’s trying his fin
gers on me right now. To compete with my own and show me who’s better at it.

  His fingers are as rough as his lips, working me up with ruthless strokes, driving me close to my climax all too quickly.

  “I’m very close,” I whisper as a warning.

  “Not yet,” he hisses into my ear, momentarily distracting me from the approaching pinnacle. Instead of slowing down, though, his fingers poke around my entrance before diving into me and a hurricane of mad thrusts stirs awake the nerve endings inside me.

  “I’m gonna come now. I can’t hold it.”

  “No.” More hissing but no stopping. What does he expect me to do when all his fingers are doing is pushing me close to a wild explosion?

  When I’m only a heartbeat away from reaching the forbidden peak, he draws his fingers out of me, and the next thing I feel is being lifted up and tossed over the bed. My hands reach out to locate him in the dark. Yes, it’s still pitch-black and my eyes haven’t adjusted to it yet. Before I can touch him, though, his hands grab my buttocks, pulling me against his face, and his mouth lands on my pussy, sucking my clit with the power of a vacuum cleaner. Just like that. Without any warning or explanation.

  There’s no way I can hold it any longer now that he’s going full power on me, thrusting his tongue into my tender flesh. The addition of his rough fingers just does it for me, and I come apart with violent convulsions, stroking his fingers just as roughly as they stroke me.

  “You taste so good. What is it?” I hear his words through my intoxicated senses, though they don’t make any sense. However something is off. Terribly off even to my fog-filled thoughts.

  I jerk up on the bed, despite the strong waves of spasms hitting me to the core, and yell, “Turn the fucking lights on.”

  I need to see him to make sure my hazed mind isn’t playing some despicable tricks on me. I slither on the bed and touch the nightstand to locate a table lamp. When I finally feel something that resembles one, I switch it on and see… Zane.

  Zane Hawkins is Big Boy?

  Before my mind can question the why’s and how’s of being in the same suite of Pleasure Extraordinaire with Zane as my lover for the afternoon, I stare at him in shock, because he’s on the floor, writhing in pain like an animal struck by a bullet.

  Once my eyes finally adjust to the light, I notice something, a strange detail on his face. His lips are unusually swollen and glowing red.

  “What did you put on your pussy?” he screams, but his words are hard to understand.

  I literally jump down the bed and get to his side to find out what’s going on. I panic at the magnitude of the problem he’s going through. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you apply some kind of lotion to yourself? What was it?” His swollen tongue barely rolls to spell out the words correctly.

  “The oil you asked me to apply.” What was it? “Coconut oil or something.” Seems to be the root of all the evils today.

  “Fuck! Are you sure? I’m allergic to coconut.”

  That doesn’t make sense at all. “Then, why the fuck did you want me to apply it?”

  He tries to cover his lips with his hands but flinches when his skin touches his giant lips. Oh, my god. What’s just happened?

  “Help, help. Someone, call a doctor,” I yell and get to my feet to call someone in. Someone with a cooler head than mine.

  Nick bangs open the door and hurries inside with a phone against his ear. “Dr. Smith, we have an emergency in Winter Suite number Seven.”

  Number seven! Number fucking seven! Give me a break!

  More men come in and together they help a fully naked Zane out of the curse-filled room. I grab my dress, put it on, and follow them out. There’s no way I’m spending an extra millisecond in there.

  I run beside the men carrying Zane, working hard to wrap my head around the order of the events. The coconut oil was his request, or at least so that’s what Mr. Ice said. Why would Zane request me to let another guy apply the kind of oil he’s allergic to, unless he has a blood-thirsty or masochist split personality that he’s not aware of?

  That’s too much fantasy, so I drop that possibility and skip to a more likely explanation. That it is a secret scheme orchestrated by Mr. Ice. Can he be so vile as to deliberately injure one of his employees? I don’t know him well enough to guess, but it doesn’t seem fitting, neither to his persona nor anyone else working under the Pleasure Extraordinaire umbrella, especially because of the lack of any reasonable motivation behind this perverse act.

  That brings me to only one cause for the bewildering calamity. An error from Zane’s side. I don’t know how a smart man of his capacity managed to categorize a product that he’s allergic to into something he wishes his new lover to use, but any other explanation seems less logical in every sense.

  When the doctor takes him into the exam room, he orders me and Nick to remain outside. Perhaps it’s a good thing because I don’t know how I’d handle seeing a man suffer because of me. Well, some coconut lotion he licked off on my pussy, to be exact.

  Everything is so strange. In fact, there’s nothing sensible in the entire afternoon! Why the fucking hell did Zane ask to have sex with me in the first place? Doesn’t he have enough gorgeous women throwing themselves at him? Mr. Ice’s persistence about smearing that drugged oil all over my privates was just the tip of the iceberg of the curiosities called my afternoon.

  Speaking of Mr. Ice, he’s striding down the hall toward us, his face a wall of cement. I wish to break every piece of brick and read his mind. He could work as an undercover agent without giving away anything with his gestures. God, does this man have any uncontrolled muscles in his body? Most likely, he doesn’t have any emotions whatsoever, that’s why he can be so neutral in every occasion.

  “He’s allergic to coconut oil,” I grit the words out between my teeth as soon as he comes over, relaying to him who I think is the guilty one here. He and only he. Unless Zane made a mistake.

  He glances at me for the fraction of a second, and at that moment, I realize his irises are growing. Technically, eyes don’t have muscles, so he still keeps his super-muscle-control strength, but to be able to pull a reaction out of him, even a tiny one like this, manages to make me feel somewhat pleased in this chaos.

  “Must be a mistake of the software.” He bites his lower lip as soon as the words are out of his mouth, as if he didn’t mean to say them. His eyes do a quick flicker across the hall. “I’ll go check up on him.”

  I can tell he’s not being honest with me. Asshole. “You’re lying. You fucking did it on purpose. Admit it!”

  He simply turns his back to me and enters the room, closing the door in my face. He bullied a person and is lying about it. The only thing that is keeping me standing here rather than following the growing urge to corner him in the exam room and force him until he confesses is that I don’t want to distract the doctor from doing his job.

  But it doesn’t mean I’ll let Mr. Ice go. I’ll wait here even if it means I’ll spend the entire night in this dimly-lit, chilly hall with the flimsy dress on me.

  Minutes pass, still no sign of either the doctor or Mr. Ice. I heard of several types of food allergies, but allergy to coconut is completely new to me. I don’t have the slightest idea of the danger it entails. I’ll never forgive myself if something serious is to happen to Zane. Although I’m not the real guilty one here, I should have checked on it before letting him lick me.

  God, he seriously licked me and would fuck me had the incident not taken place. Why, oh why did he do that? Only one reason is popping up in my mind. I must be the forbidden fruit he’s not allowed to taste. Those ego-driven, type-A-personality men. He likely wouldn’t take a second look at me on another occasion, but since I’ve become his father’s girlfriend, therefore unreachable for him, he had to find a way to stick his dick into me. If this was indeed his reason, he’s gotten what he deserved.

  Fuck him and fuck all men. I wish I were a lesbian. At least I’d be better-ver
sed in the type of person I’d have liked to get into bed with. Rather than the closed-minded, penis-controlled teenagers disguised under the appearance of a mature man.

  My high heels are killing me, and there’re no seats close-by, so I take them off, risking looking like a mushroom compared to tall trees, beside Nick and the other two men.

  Just when I lean against the wall and begin rubbing my foot, Mr. Ice comes out. He tries to avoid looking at me, when he says, “He’s much better now.”

  He starts to walk, but I catch his elbow before he can escape. “Admit it.”

  “Can we discuss it in my office?” He stares at me with cautious eyes, and I nod. I have to run to keep pace with his long strides as we go to his office.

  “Why did you do it?” I ask as soon as I step into his office and bang the door behind me. I see his chest moving fast, but besides that, he’s still his robot self in terms of revealing his emotions.

  “Come, check his entry with me. You can see his note.” He signals with his hand toward the computer on the desk and types the password to enter to his account. “Here, read it for yourself.”

  I move closer to read the text on the screen and whisper the words aloud, “Have her apply coconut oil in her vagina before the meeting.” I smirk with anger. “That’s ridiculous. He knows he’s allergic to coconut. Why would he have you use coconut oil unless he has a death wish?”

  He stares at the screen without disclosing anything that goes through his mind.

  “You have access to all accounts. You could have written it down there easily.” I feel my voice raise but so what? “Just admit it. You did it.”

  He shakes his head but can’t open his mouth to defend himself.

  “I hate liars, and you proved to be one,” I yell and stride out of his office. My hands are shaking, and my chest hurts with short breaths that go in and out of my mouth as the memories of the first lie ever told to me floods my mind.

  When my cousin got mad after losing a silly video game three times in a row against me, she presumed it to be her right to lie to me about my mother’s death to get revenge against me for beating her. Yes, a barely seven-year-old girl succeeded in cutting a deep wound in my soul by telling me my mother suffered a horrible death because my extremely big head broke her bones while giving birth to me. I couldn’t do anything, not eat, nor talk, for several days after hearing the horrendous details of my mother’s death until Taylor explained to me she died of Preeclampsia and not because of my over-sized head.