The Poi Predicament

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The Poi Predicament Page 12

by Lyle Christie


  “He seems a lot happier. Does he do any tricks?”

  “Other than spelunking, seminal regurgitation, and getting me into trouble? Not really.”

  She threw my shorts onto the edge of the pool then swam to the other end and back before surfacing beside me, where the view of her wonderfully wet naked body was making my heart race and my penis surge with enthusiasm.

  “You swim like a fish,” I said.

  “I was a swimmer in college.”

  “And apparently a good one.”

  “Yeah, though I suppose I have an unfair advantage because of my large feet.”

  “So, it’s like wearing flippers?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, anatomically it makes perfect sense. You wouldn’t be able to stand if you didn’t have proper footing to counterbalance your extremely well developed chest.”

  She smiled as she came forward and unexpectedly kissed me, and her tongue arrived a second later. It was sweet, warm, and slippery as it slid into my mouth, and we engaged in a veritable tongue tug of war until we parted lips.

  “Well, hello, my new favorite pool buddy,” I said.

  “When I see something I want, I don’t fuck around. I go for it.”

  Melissa once again planted her lips on mine, and I had to admit that there was nothing quite as exciting as being drunk, wet, and frolicking with a woman as attractive as Melissa. It certainly didn’t hurt that she apparently had the multi-tasking skills of a juggler, as she was able to maintain proper lip contact while simultaneously reaching down and expertly exploring my manly goodies. She had firm hold of Tag Junior, and she had managed to work him into a raging hard-on that was now precariously perched between her legs. Sweet Poseidon’s libidinous daughter! I was falling grossly behind in the foreplay department, so I therefore decided to do a little exploring of my own and set off on a mighty quest. I ran my hands down her shoulders and took hold of her formidable breasts and gently teased her generous nipples until they were as hard if not harder than my manhood. Of course, such delicacies of the flesh required the presence of my mouth, and I parted from her lips and used my tongue to tickle both nipples until Melissa elicited soft gasps of pleasure. I decided to head back up towards her lips, but couldn’t help but stop and kiss her neck along the way. This seemed to increase her efforts with my manhood, and that, in turn, inspired me to reach down and gently explore the hot, wet contours of her neatly trimmed garden of sunshine. I started at the bottom, then slid my fingers up and over her clitoris, where I began making slow luxurious circles that made her writhe and moan.

  “Shit—maybe we should take this party inside,” I said.

  “Yeah, inside my vagina—but, first I’d like to have a little fun of my own, so, I’m going to need for you to sit on the edge of the pool.”

  I slid up onto the edge of the pool, and Melissa smiled devilishly as she took hold of my mantool and ran her tongue its entire length before taking the tip into her mouth. She did a couple of extremely powerful passes then leaned back and smiled.

  “I’m not trying to brag, but I’m the queen of blowjobs.”

  “Then I think you should know that I’m the king of cunnilingus.”

  “Perhaps we should have a royal contest.”

  “Here?”

  She looked around.

  “Why not, we’re alone.”

  “I don’t know—kids will be swimming here in the morning.”

  “True. Can you walk with Willy that hard?”

  “I can do a lot more than walk.”

  “Well, let’s go.”

  “My room or yours?”

  “Yours,” she said.

  We grabbed our things and left the pool area, and I used my shorts and shirt to cover my groin. We were in a popular crowded resort, so it stood to reason we might run into other hotel guests, and I decided to err on the side of modesty. It turned out to be a wise decision, because, as we rounded the final corner before my room, we ran into Sandra, and she paused and crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded me.

  “Nice boner, Finn,” she said.

  “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “So, that’s not a boner?”

  “No, it’s definitely a boner.”

  “Then it’s exactly what it looks like.”

  “Sorry, but I have to go take care of this.”

  “Indeed, I think you should.”

  We left Sandra and entered my room, where I was feeling ever relieved to at last be out of the public forum.

  “So, what kind of contest did you have in mind?” I asked.

  “Who can make the other person climax faster.”

  “And what does the winner get—aside from the obvious?”

  “They get to choose the next activity.”

  “Won’t it be over at that point?”

  “Only for you, so I’ll be sure to stop right before you climax. Now, lay back on the bed and keep a close eye on your watch.”

  I lay back and looked at my watch in order to mark the time that her mouth touched down on my penis. It was twelve ten and ten seconds, and, suddenly, I was awash in pleasure, as her tongue action and secondary use of her hands was exemplary. The seconds flew by, and it was at twelve ten and fifty-five seconds that I called time, barely able to hold back the inevitable.

  “Well, how did I do?” she asked.

  “Forty-five seconds.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Not bad at all—especially considering the amount of alcohol I’ve had tonight. Now, it’s my turn.”

  We switched places, and I handed her my watch.

  “Start counting the minute my tongue touches down.”

  Now it was my turn, and it was pretty unlikely that I could beat her time of forty-five seconds. The vagina could be a slippery slope, but there was always a chance. I set to work by going straight to the clitoris, and Melissa’s hips flexed involuntarily, which I saw as a good sign that I was on the right track. Not all women could climax very easily and some couldn’t climax at all. Interestingly, it was a rare known fact that nymphomaniacs, in spite of their sexual addiction, rarely, if ever, achieved climax—so I was therefore hoping that Melissa was not a nympho. About fifteen seconds in, I was hitting my stride and decided to use a little hand stimulation in conjunction with my tongue, and I slipped two of my fingers just inside her opening, and Melissa began to cry out. I had found the apparent sweet spot between vaginal and clitoral stimulation, and I continued quickening my pace in tiny increments until she was in the full throws of an impending climax. Her back arched, and her vagina constricted around my fingers, and she began screaming in ecstasy as her entire body continued to convulse. I finally relented, and she at last came to rest with a satisfied smile on her face.

  “Fuck, was that fast!” she said.

  “What’s my time?”

  “Fifty-nine seconds, which is by far the least amount of time it has taken any man or woman to make me cum.”

  “I aim to please, though I can’t help but think that you’re just blowing smoke up my ass.”

  “I don’t lie or fake it when it comes to orgasms.”

  “Good to know.”

  “But, I still won.”

  “Indeed, so what’s your preference?”

  “Intercourse, of course, but let’s take it up a notch. I’ve been a naughty girl, so why don’t you to tie me to the bed and punish me properly.”

  “Punish you?”

  “Yeah, with your cock.”

  “OK, though I am practically a stranger.”

  “Hey—you saved my oldest, dearest friend’s life, so I imagine I’m in pretty good hands.”

  “Well, OK then.”

  She stood up and went to her purse and pulled out a handful of silk scarves before returning a moment later.

  “I take it you always come prepared,” I said.

  “Because I’m always prepared to come.”

  Gulp. She looked around the room and made some mental ca
lculations before moving to the foot of the bed, where she opened her legs, bent over, and stretched her hands out towards the bedposts.

  “I’m waiting,” she said, as she looked back at me with a wanting and naughty smile.

  I wavered a moment, as I was feeling a sudden pang of apprehension, but lust won out over reason, and I proceeded to use the scarves to tie each of her wrists securely to the bedposts.

  “Alrighty then,” I said.

  “You forgot my feet.”

  “How thoughtless of me,” I said, as I picked up the two remaining scarves and secured her feet, thus leaving her bent over, spread legged, and utterly helpless.

  Finished, I took a moment to admire my work and watched as Melissa pulled on her binds to test that I had indeed tied her properly. Unable to get free, she appeared to be satisfied with my work, and she proceeded to wiggle her backside in delightful anticipation. This evening had certainly taken an unexpected turn, and now seeing this naughty side of Melissa instantly brought to mind thoughts of her time as a teacher. I could only imagine what it must have been like for her male students, as she was every school boy’s walking-talking-fucking fantasy, and when I say fucking I literally mean fucking.

  I stepped forward and ran my hands up her thighs and over her smooth round buttocks then pressed my hips to hers so that my hard member was between her legs and resting against the outside of her lady region.

  “Are you going to stand there and admire the view, or are you going to fuck me?” she asked.

  “I’m going to do both,” I said, as I slid my hand around and gently caressed her nipples.

  She purred like a kitten and pressed her hot, wet opening against my straining member, and, after a moment, she turned and looked at me over her shoulder, and there was something a little manic in her expression.

  “So, yesterday, you said I had a nice ass.”

  “I did, and I meant it.”

  “Good, because now I want you to tap it,” she said, as she wiggled her backside.

  Did I just hear her correctly? Did she really say tap it? Jesus. Who in the hell was this woman?

  “Come on. Get to it! Tap it,” she said, again as she continued to wiggle her lovely backside.

  “Sorry, but are you inferring anal sex?”

  “No, I’m using an expression that means I want your cock in my pussy! Now, tap this ass!”

  “Ahhh—got it,” I said, though in truth I wasn’t entirely sure I did.

  I reached down and guided Tag Junior unto her warm wet essence and slid inside until reaching full mount.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it!” she said.

  I took hold of her hips and started thrusting in and out and couldn’t help but relish the tantalizing visual aphrodisiac that was Melissa’s ass. It was held high in the air, and each meeting of flesh sent a powerful ripple through her glutes. For Melissa, however, it was more than just visual stimulation, for this position also happened to provide an opportune angle for hitting the hotly contested Gräfenberg Spot—the very sensitive area that supposedly resided about an inch or so inside on the upper reaches of the vagina. So, as I reached a steady heart pounding pace, she began calling out so loudly that I was starting to worry about the legitimate possibility that I would receive a noise complaint from the hotel.

  “Oh yeah! That’s it! Now tap it and slap it!” she bellowed.

  “What?”

  “Fucking tap it and slap it!”

  “Wait, I thought I was tapping it.”

  “Yeah, but now I want you to slap it, and that means spank me! Spank my ass!” she yelled.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, tough guy. Spank me! I’ve been a bad girl, so spank my fucking ass!”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by bad, but I was in no position to argue, so I gave her a gentle pat.

  “Harder, you pussy!”

  I gave her another one that was a bit harder, and there was a decently loud smacking sound at the point of impact.

  “Not bad, but the next one better be harder.”

  I gave her ass another slap, though this one was a little harder.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it! Again!” she yelled.

  I did it again.

  “Oh God yes! Now, come on—fuck the shit out of me, you fucker! Slap and tap!”

  I did as told, and now our bodies were coming together violently, and my balls were sailing forward and inadvertently colliding with her clitoris and making an additional, though dull, slapping sound. When you combined it with the spanking of her ass, the combination was not unlike a complicated drum beat with her ass serving as the snare drum and her clitoris serving as the hi-hat—and together they were making the noise tap-tap-tap-slap—tap-tap-tap-slap.

  “Oh God, yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, you fucker!” she screamed.

  Now, it was official. I wasn’t just starting to worry—I was full on seriously worried that the noise would bring a visit from hotel security. If only she had another silk scarf, I would have gladly used it to gag her.

  “Pull my hair!” she said, excitedly.

  “What?”

  “I said pull my fucking hair!” she yelled.

  Again I did as instructed, though I was starting to wonder if perhaps I had made a grave error in judgement in bringing this hellcat up to my room. I wasn’t shy in matters of the bedroom, and it was some damn exciting intercourse, but her unusual sexual appetite and propensity for hollering was a bit disconcerting and making me feel oddly victimized—which was saying a lot considering the fact that she was the one tied to the bed. I mustered my resolve, however, and did as asked and pulled her long mane of hair.

  “Now, pull my hair and spank me at the same time you little bitch!” she yelled.

  Jesus, now she was becoming openly abusive in her commands. How many fucking hands did she think I had? I wasn’t an octopus for God’s sake! Fortunately, I was coordinated enough to multitask, and I used my left hand to pull her hair, while I used my right to deliver a series of smacks to her backside—making the entire affair feel as though I were a jockey coaxing a galloping steed. Still, I stayed true to the cause and pounded away until her cries of ecstasy picked up in pace and volume. Her hands pulled against her silken bonds as she started into a climax, but thankfully she dropped her face onto the bed, and her scream was muffled by the comforter, which served as an improvised gag to lower her volume and hopefully keep the neighbors at bay. She stopped moving then popped back up and looked at me over her shoulder.

  “OK, untie me, fucker. It’s time to finish what I started earlier,” she said, with a sinister smile now playing across her lips.

  For a split second, I thought about leaving her tied up and making a run for it, but I thought it prudent not to leave Frank Williams’s beloved daughter tied to my bed. I therefore undid her hands and feet, and she immediately knelt and took my mantool into her mouth. The pleasure was intensely wonderful, but thoughts of her unusual lovemaking style continued to fill my mind with uneasiness. Still, as haunting as it was, it wasn’t enough to stave off her Herculean efforts, and the inevitable occurred no more than seventeen seconds later, when the entire inventory of my balls was pulled from my body as though by a vacuum. Melissa’s efficiency bordered on super human, and, like the night before with Violet, I had been blessed with some other worldly oral pleasure, but the craziness of the encounter left me feeling oddly vulnerable and uncomfortable. I couldn’t be sure if it was guilt relating to Violet, or just fear of Melissa’s cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs lovemaking style, but, either way, I was sure I was going to regret it in the morning.

  Melissa stood up then headed for the bathroom, and I was left standing there alone and in shock. I heard the shower turn on, and I waited for her to finish before I went in and did the same. Upon returning, I could see that she was already asleep, and I gingerly slipped into bed and took a moment to quietly ponder the evening. I was already starting to feel a lot of trepidation over my unusual sexual encounter with the hellcat Melis
sa Williams, and, as I tried to close my eyes and put those thoughts aside, I found myself thinking about the beautiful Violet Kalili. Were we really doomed to only have a business relationship—and if not—did I just somehow fuck that up by having a one night stand with crazy Melissa? Oh well, what was I worrying about? I was a single man at the moment and therefore hadn’t done anything wrong. Fuck it! Violet didn’t need to know anything about this little indiscretion, and tomorrow it would all become a thing of the past. With those thoughts bolstering my resolve, I relaxed and took refuge in sleep and felt ever optimistic about the day ahead.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Rudy the Rohypnolist

  I AWOKE THE next morning alone and with the hellcat Melissa nowhere to be seen as I slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I found the door closed, so I knocked, and it opened a minute later, and there was Melissa looking fully dressed, showered, and, thankfully, ready to leave.

  “Oh, did I wake you? I tried to be as quiet as I could so that you could sleep,” she said.

  “No, it’s OK, I woke upon my own accord.”

  “Well, I need to get going, as I’ve got a busy day.”

  “No problem. I do too.”

  She began gathering her remaining belongings, and I went over and picked up my iPhone to see if I had any important texts or calls from Violet, John, or even Frank. There wasn’t a single notification, and I breathed a sweet sigh of relief, though I nearly shit myself when my iPhone rang, and I looked down to see it was Violet calling. Oh shit—this was where a dumb drunk late night escapade could come under the scrutiny of the harsh light of morning. I mustered my courage and tried to remove any lingering guilt from my mind as I hit the answer button.

  “Hello,” I said, a little timidly.

  “Morning, sunshine. You awake?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, because I’m on my way over.”

  “Oh, when should I expect you?”

  “Soon, I just arrived at your hotel.”

  “Oh wait—hold up. I still need to get ready, so perhaps I should just meet you in the lobby,” I said.

  There was no response, as she’d already hung up, and now I was starting to panic. Fucking Violet was going to arrive just as Melissa was about to leave—but, did it matter? I wasn’t exactly sure, though I had a pretty strong feeling that it would be a lot easier if their arrival and departure didn’t overlap. I therefore silently prayed for a smooth and easy transition, but, as Melissa opened the door, there stood Violet, and she was looking more than a little surprised to see that I already had a visitor.

 

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