Bare Behind Bars / Isabella Gets Nailed / Stuck in the Window: 3 Stories of Interracial Infidelity in Dangerous Situations

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Bare Behind Bars / Isabella Gets Nailed / Stuck in the Window: 3 Stories of Interracial Infidelity in Dangerous Situations Page 11

by Felicity Fleming


  You make what I do worthwhile, and I love you for it.

  Please keep reading my books, and I’ll work hard to make sure they’re everything you could want them to be.

  Love and kisses,

  Felicity Fleming

  Princeton, New Jersey

  September 2015

  [email protected]

  p.s. Don’t forget to check out the FREE BONUS STORY in the back of this book!

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  Bonus Story!

  Totally Unprotected

  By

  Felicity Fleming

  Chapter One

  Slap!

  Brandon’s hand left a stinging imprint on Sara’s cheek, and she very nearly came from it.

  “You’re a fucking whore,” he hissed, pinning her to the wall, breathing hotly into her face.

  “Yes,” Sara nodded, pussy growing wet. “Yes, I’m a fucking whore.” Her eyes flashed. “And you love it, you pussy.”

  Slap!

  Brandon slapped her again, and this time Sara did nearly cum. She let out a hot, wet moan and her knees nearly buckled.

  “W-what’s wrong,” she grinned, feeling the delicious sting on her cheek. “Are you worried one of those other men would fuck me better than you could?”

  And that’s when Brandon threw her against the wall.

  His hand curled around Sara’s throat, and he squeezed until Sara saw stars in front of her eyes. She moaned hotly, nipples growing hard.

  “I’ll show you how other men fuck you,” Brandon hissed angrily, staring into her eyes. “I’m going to give you up like a fucking piece of meat.” And then he yanked up the hem of her dress, and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and yanked them down roughly.

  Sara laughed at him. That just made him pull them down more roughly.

  “Sluts like you don’t get to wear panties,” he growled, pulling them off her completely. He lifted them up to his face, and sniffed them deeply. “You smell like a whore.”

  “And you love it,” Sara laughed at him. “You had your face buried down there for an hour last night.” And then she glanced down, and saw how his hard-on was making a tent in the front of his pants. “Look how turned on you are.”

  With a snarl, Brandon crushed her against the wall again, and this time his fingers pressed between her legs, against the entrance to her pussy.

  She was already wet. She moaned as his fingers sunk inside her effortlessly.

  “You’re wet? Already?”

  “Well, you promised me some real men to fuck me,” Sara moaned, clinging to him as he finger-fucked her. “I’m eager for them.”

  With a snarl, Brandon pulled his fingers out of her. He lifted them up, and held them in front of her face. They were glistening with her wetness.

  “Look at that,” he snarled. Sara’s eyes flashed defiantly, and that just made him angrier. “Look at that, you slut.” And then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. “Here. Lick them clean, you slut.”

  And she did. Eagerly. As he offered up his wet fingers, Sara sucked her juices from them like she was sucking a cock.

  Brandon moaned as he felt her tongue and lips slurp on her fingers. For a moment, he imagined how amazing it would be to feel them on his cock.

  “I can see how hard you are,” Sara’s eyes flashed. “Are you going to fuck me now? Or are you actually going to man the fuck up, and make good on your threats?”

  Brandon bared his teeth and growled.

  “Come on then,” he told her. “I’ve made all the arrangements. And I’m going to break you like the whore you are.”

  And Sara’s pussy throbbed as she heard that.

  Chapter Two

  The club was a non-descript building downtown – the sort of place you wouldn’t look twice at on a normal day. Maybe it was a distribution warehouse. Maybe it was abandoned.

  But Sara and Brandon knew different.

  This was Deceptions. An underground sex club only an elite few in New York City knew about.

  They’d taken a cab there, and as Sara climbed out of the yellow taxi, in her short, barely-there dress, she felt butterflies in her stomach about what was about to happen next.

  “I made some calls earlier,” Brandon was dragging her, an iron grip on her wrist. “Invited some people over to teach a slut like you what her place is.”

  Sara shuddered at the thought.

  As she was dragged up to the imposing steel door, she found herself caught somewhere between arousal, fear and disgust. In theory, a sex club sounded exciting and wicked. In practice, it was intimidating, and possibly even dangerous.

  But she was still intently aroused. Sara knew that whatever Brandon had planned for her would be relentlessly exciting.

  As they stood in the street, Brandon pushed her roughly up against the wall. He pinned her there with his strong hands, curling fingers around her throat and squeezing.

  “You pretty little slut,” he growled, and Sara moaned as she heard those words. “I’m going to break you tonight.”

  She giggled: “We’ll see.”

  His hands reached up and curled around her throat. Sara moaned as she felt them tighten, stifling her air. Her pussy throbbed.

  “You whore.”

  “You pussy.”

  He growled. For a moment, she thought he was going to choke her, right there on the street. But with a frustrated snarl, Brandon released her, and grabbed her wrist instead.

  Brandon stepped up to the door, and a doorman appeared seemingly from nowhere.

  That was his job. To be there, but remain invisible. This was a super-secret sex club, after all – the sort of place you had to get invited to join, and was administered through anonymous message boards and private forums.

  Sara didn’t know how Brandon had got them in – but apparently he had. The doorman nodded, and let them both in with barely a glance.

  Then they were inside the club – dark, and dank and dangerous. The lighting was dim, and the air conditioning was set aggressively high. The air smelt of dry ice and Clorox, and bass-heavy music reverberated around the speakers.

  It was dirty, and seedy, and yet it would have made Sara’s panties wet… If she’d been wearing any.

  As soon as Sara was led inside, eyes turned towards her. There were crowds of men and couples there – some in fetish gear, others naked. Their body types ranged from acceptable to pale and podgy; and it wasn’t much of a stretch for Sara to believe that she and Brandon were by far and away the hottest people there.

  Part of her was repelled at the idea of these deeply unremarkable people looking at her… Possibly doing more to her. But then again, she knew part of that was the point. That was part of the humiliation, and she loved it.

  “Come on, slut,” Brandon dragged Sara into the center of one of the play rooms, where a pole with chains was erected. Reaching down, he pulled a duffel bag from under a nearby sofa – one he’d clearly secreted earlier.

  The fact that Brandon had been here to prepare wasn’t surprising – and it certainly explained why the doorman had let him in so easily.

  Sara shivered and looked around the room as Brandon peered into the bag.

  Crowds of single men were circling her like buzzards. One wore a black cloak and nothing else, and was frantically jerking off as he watched her. Two other guys in drag licked their lips as they watched her. A couple playing on the couch turned their heads to look at Sara, and the
girl – a chubby, Latino woman in her thirties – shot her a jealous look before she forced her husband or boyfriend’s head back between her legs.

  “Here we go,” Brandon straightened up. He was holding leather straps.

  Sara shivered as he stepped over to her and hoisted her hands high above her head. A moment later he strapped her hands to the post – suspending her there.

  She blushed self-consciously – aware that the entire room was staring at her. Not only that, but having her arms above her head hiked up the hem of her dress, and exposed her neatly trimmed pussy to the entire room.

  Brandon grinned, impressed with his handiwork.

  Next he pulled out a Sharpie marker, and Sara moaned as he pulled the tip off, and placed the tip against the flesh of her cleavage.

  In big letters, he wrote the word SLUT.

  Then he bent down, and spread her legs. Sara gasped as he scrawled on the inside of her legs.

  CUM SLUT on one thigh. FUCK ME on the other.

  And then, above her neatly trimmed pussy, he wrote in neat, large letters: CUM DUMP.

  And then Sara screamed, as he spun her around. She spun like a child’s mobile, hanging from the ceiling.

  The tip of the pen scrawled on her bare ass.

  She didn’t know what he was writing, so he told her:

  “Fuck my ass,” he read out loud, as he finished her left cheek. “Butt slut,” on the other.

  And then he span her around again, until he was looking deep into her eyes.

  “My marked slut,” he grinned. “My pretty little fuckmeat.”

  Sara licked her lips.

  “And now the final details,” Brandon purred, and pulled a black silk mask from his pocket. Sara moaned as he fitted it over her head. A moment later she was in blackness; totally unable to see.

  She hung there, butterflies churning in her stomach.

  And then there was a riiiiip.

  Sara cried out as the front of her dress was ripped open. She immediately felt the cold air-conditioning on her bare breasts. The dress fell away, and she found herself naked – exposed, blind and helpless.

  Again, the Sharpie marked her flesh.

  “Knock me up,” Brandon explained what he was writing. “Cock whore.”

  Sara shuddered at the degradation.

  “And now,” Brandon breathed hotly in her ear – fuelling her anxiety. “It begins.”

  Chapter Three

  For what seemed like forever, Sara just hung there, in the cold, feeling the breeze of the air conditioners on her body. Her nipples grew hard.

  Then suddenly, a hot hand touched her breast.

  She moaned. The touch was burning hot, compared to the chill of the sex club.

  The hand squeezed her tit gently, and then pinched her nipple. Almost immediately, a second hand reached up and touched her other breast; squeezing it like ripe fruit.

  “That’s it,” she heard Brandon say – but to who, she had no idea. “Squeeze the slut’s tits. Make her moan.”

  Sara moaned. She suddenly realized that whoever was touching her was not her lover. It could have been anybody in that club.

  The chubby guy in the cloak, or the guys in drag. Anybody.

  “Huuuuhngh,” she groaned, as a third hand squeezed her ass, and then a forth went right for the gold – sliding between her legs and rubbing her pussy. “Oh… Oh, God.” She was being mauled by two complete strangers now… and then a third.

  “Is she wet already?” Brandon growled. “She is, isn’t she? She’s a fucking slut. She’s always ready for cock.”

  Sara moaned. Things went crazy when the hands on her breasts were replaced with mouths. A soft, sucking pair of lips sucked on her nipple, and then one of her legs was lifted up and the fingers rubbing her pussy were replaced with somebody else’s mouth.

  “Ooooh, God,” she moaned, feeling a stranger’s tongue slither into her pussy, and then lick circles around her clitoris.

  “Taste her. Does she taste like a slut to you?”

  Sara groaned, and her pussy gushed wetly into the stranger’s mouth.

  It was uncomfortable and humiliating – not to mention just a tiny bit scary. But it was also the most erotic thing she’d ever done. When a third mouth clamped onto her other nipple, and lubed-up fingers slipped between her ass cheeks and pressed against her tight little ass, she nearly lost it then and there.

  She was being devoured by strangers. Complete strangers, using their lips and tongues and fingers on her like she was their property. Which she was. Brandon was giving her to these strangers.

  “Ooooh,” Sara arched her back, as two fingers slid inside her pussy; joining the mouth sucking and licking at her clitoris. “Oh, God.” She felt her body respond. She couldn’t help it. “Oh, Jesus…” After being teased and tormented all night, she was finally on the brink of the release her body so desperately craved. “P-please…”

  And then she came.

  “Uuuungh,” Sara’s whole body shuddered as she climaxed. Strong hands – all those unseen strangers surrounding her – supported her weight as she thrashed and flailed in ecstacy. The mouths on her nipples and clitoris continued sucking – drawing her climax out longer, and harder, and more and more desperately until…

  “P-please,” Sara begged. “Oh, please, I can’t take any more…”

  Brandon waited for two more orgasms to be milked from his helpless lover before he stepped in – his crisp, sharp voice announcing: “That’s enough.”

  Reluctantly, the hands and mouths fell away, and Sara felt the straps holding her hands above her head loosened.

  She fell limply into strong arms. A hand pulled away the blindfold she was wearing. She realized she was being held by Brandon; and he was looking down at her angrily.

  “Look at you, you fucking slut,” and then, to her surprise, he kissed her. “Cumming for those strangers. What a whore you are.” And then he kissed her again, and she moaned into his mouth.

  Sara couldn’t find the breath to speak. As it happened, she didn’t need to.

  Brandon was carrying her across the room, until he laid her down on a raised, padded dias in the center of the sex-club.

  She lay naked on the blankets, gasping for breath. Brandon was arranging her legs – lifting up her knees so her bare ass was at the very edge of the dias; exposed to the whole room.

  FUCK MY ASS and BUTT SLUT read the writing on her obscenely-displayed ass.

  Brandon was looking down at her, smiling wickedly.

  “You’ve had your pleasure, you little whore” he smiled, and kissed her on the mouth. “Now it’s their turn.”

  Chapter Four

  Sara struggled to lift her head.

  She looked between her raised knees and saw a crowd of men and women watching her. The men outnumbered the women ten-to-one, and most of them were naked, semi-naked, or had their cocks out and were masturbating.

  She shuddered.

  These were the strangers who’d just licked and fingered her to orgasm. Such ordinary-looking people. The naked guy in the cloak. A balding man in stockings and suspenders. The two men in drag; both stroking thick, hard cocks.

  A room full of hard dicks, and they were all hard for her.

  She moaned. Her pussy throbbed.

  Part of her was disgusted. This wasn’t the stuff of sexual fantasies. These weren’t chiselled Gods with six-pack abs. These were horny, hungry looking ordinary guys. The kind of men she wouldn’t even look twice at in the supermarket or store.

  Men who would never normally have a chance with a girl like her.

  But at the same time, she felt a thrill watching them all watching her. Most of the men were stroking their cocks eagerly. She felt their arousal. She could almost taste how sexy they all thought she was – how much they wanted her.

  And that’s when Brandon stepped up, with the Sharpie in one hand.

  “Form an orderly line, gentlemen and ladies,” he grinned. “Every one of you will get your turn, I promis
e.”

  Turn? Promise? Sara’s face went white. She turned anxiously to Brandon; and the smile he gave her answered all her questions.

  He was about to “give” her to everybody in this room – more than a dozen men, and a few women pulling on strap-ons and dildos.

  “N-no,” she groaned, struggling to sit up.

  Brandon crossed the room in two short bounds, and pushed her shoulders down. Then, with one hand, he reached between her spread legs and started rubbing her clitoris.

  She moaned, and melted into the dias.

  “Yes,” Brandon hissed menacingly, rubbing her clitoris and sending waves of pleasure ripping through her body. “You dared me, you little slut. So lie the fuck down, and do your duty.” He bent down and kissed her wetly on the mouth. “You’re mine, you little fuck slut. Your body is mine. And now I’m going to share it.”

  “Hhhuuuungh,” Sara groaned, arching her back as Brandon rubbed her almost to the point of another orgasm.

  But instead of letting her cum, he just turned to the line of men eagerly standing between her legs, and murmured: “Take her, boys.”

  Chapter Five

  The first man up was the naked guy in the black cloak, still stroking his impressive hard-on.

  He was holding a little foil packet in one hand, attempting to tear it open. As soon as Brandon saw it, be swatted it out of his hand

  “A condom? Fuck that shit. What is she? A fucking princess?” He indicated Sara, lying on the dias. “She’s fuckmeat. She doesn’t deserve a condom. Fuck her raw,” he growled. “Cum in her. That’s what the slut’s here for.”

  The stranger grinned. Clearly he didn’t need convincing. In fact, his swollen cock visibly throbbed as he contemplated the thought of sliding, bareback, into this submissive woman.

 

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