first person

I felt you enter the room, although at first I didn’t know what caused that tingling down my spine. I looked up, and met your eyes. You had paused just inside the door, and were staring at me.

I returned your stare, paralyzed with sudden desire. Then the crowd closed between us, and I lost sight of you. After a moment someone spoke to me, and I returned to the task of setting up my table.

I had been invited to the charity event as a fortune teller, and I enjoyed my evening, surprising my friends who didn’t recognize me in my costume with my knowledge of their lives. The word of the ‘gypsy fortune teller’ spread through the hall, and I was kept very busy. But through it all I watched for you, hoping you would come to me. I still felt that tingle in my bones, so I knew you were present, but look though I might I could not see you.

At last it was time for my scheduled break, and I pulled the curtain across the front of my booth. The hall was very warm with the mass of humanity pressing through it, and I escaped to the front lobby. Leaning against the wall just inside the door, I felt the cool October night breeze against my heated cheeks. I closed my eyes, and a second later felt a new sensation from the direction of the hall. I looked, and there you were, smiling at me. You asked if you could join me. I could only nod. My lips felt swollen with lust; I was afraid they would not form words, but only panting moans.

You took my hand and kissed my knuckle in a courtly gesture. I blushed with eagerness, you laughed and asked if you had embarrassed me. I found my tongue, but felt I must stay in character – there were others present who would know my natural voice. I denied embarrassment, and you complimented me on my unusual accent. I laughed, very low, and leaned forward to whisper to you that it was false. Your hand came up as I spoke, and rested on my shoulder, the warmth of your palm sweeping through me to send an urgent signal to my deepest self.

You looked at me without speaking. I murmured that it was too hot inside – would you care to step outside into the fresh air? You nodded, and I took your hand to show the way. I knew where I wanted to lead you, and every breath you took told me you were a willing follower. I guided you to a spot around the side of the building, under a window but hidden from casual observers by a half wall and some shrubbery. I leaned back against the wall and gazed up into your eyes with invitation. For one despairing moment I thought I had misread you, but then you smiled, and your lips found mine.

The thickness of the dark wig I wore cushioned my head, and the long curls brushed across my breasts where they rose from the tight bodice of my costume. Your fingers traced the line, and I gasped with tension. You touched your tongue to the warm pulse below my ear, and as I melted I thought of how it would be to be devoured by you, the vampire in the night. Your hands pulled my hips to yours, and I swayed against you, feeling through my several petticoats the evidence of your desire. My own hands rose to caress your neck and shoulders, and I nibbled my way along the firm line of your jaw.

You asked me some question I hardly heard through the pounding of my own heart, and I murmured assent. You could have asked me anything and I would have agreed. A moment later you knelt there before me, and with delight I realized what permission I had granted. My lace trimmed underskirts and the full red taffeta above were gathered in your determined hands, and thrust up. I grasped at them, to free you, and your breath was hot against my thigh. The first pressure of your lips against my skin nearly collapsed my knees. I braced myself more firmly in the corner of the wall, and lightly stroked your hair with my free hand. Your fingers traced a message on the backs of my knees, and I sighed softly. Above us music floated out of the open window into the night. I swayed in time with it, eager to speed the joy I knew you offered. My impatience made me spread my legs a little further, offering my pouting cunt to you if you would rise to meet it.

You spoke then, some soothing word to promise eventual satisfaction, but still your lips moved away, around my thigh to my hip. I moaned, and you chuckled, taunting me with your tongue in lazy circles over the bone. My hand gripped your hair gently, and you shook your head slightly, warning me not to push. I moved my hand down over your shoulders, begging you with my fingers to let me show you the way as I had already done. In answer you stroked your hand across the curls that guarded the prize. I gasped and shuddered, so strongly did I want that hand to tarry on its journey. You stroked again, and again, and with each pass, I pressed my mound against your palm, begging for more.

Then you brought your lips to follow, brushing across the gateway as your hand swept down over my thighs, and then rising up between them to tease the outermost edges of my cunt. I curved my back, trying to bring my entire pussy forward for you to kiss, but you slid your tongue instead into the crease between my leg and that heated mount. I pressed my own belly with the hand that held my skirts, and bit back a cry. Your other hand slid around behind me, and stroked down the crease of my ass, as though searching for some lost treasure. I trembled, longing to beg you to suck me, but mindful of the open window above us. I had not long to wait, though it seemed an eternity. Your tongue slid down the length of that crease beside my pussy, and up the other side, then, hesitantly, you touched it to the top of the valley. I whispered encouragement, and you smiled – all through me I could feel that smile, though I could not see it. My eyes were closed in ecstasy.

Your tongue pressed firmly down, opening the lips of my cunt as it sought the opening at the base of the valley. Your hand behind me slid down again, and a finger tip soon pressed against my asshole. I choked back a scream – how had you guessed that that sensation of all others would bring me to the brink of orgasm? Your tongue darted into me, and I pressed downward to meet it. Your other hand came up to frame your lips, and press mine apart. With broad, sweeping strokes your tongue massaged the warm, wet slit. I shivered, and in response you slid that waiting fingertip into my ass. I squirmed in delight, and thrust my pelvis against your face, my free hand still resting on your hair.

I dared not grasp, for I was afraid I would hurt you in my eagerness to bring your tongue into me. But you seemed to know, and soon it was sliding back into that waiting hole, in and out in ageless rhythm. Your finger in my ass echoed your tongue’s dance and I growled deep in my throat at the sensations rising through me. As the rhythm changed, you sucked gently at my clit, then rose, keeping that one hand firmly behind me, never relenting in its motion. I ground my hips against you, begging you to fill me, and you buried your juice-slicked face between my tits, where they lay half-covered by black velvet. I reached to free your cock from where it lay imprisoned, and in a moment it sprang out, hard and ready. I stroked it with joyful welcome, and you moved to bring it nearer its goal.

It was hardly necessary that I guide it in, so surely did you move, but in a moment I was filled with your cock in my cunt, and your finger in my ass. My mind filled for a moment with the taste of your cock, and I knew that I would beg you soon to let me suck you, to feel your balls against my lips, and your hair against my cheeks. But for now, you were inside me, your cock pumping into me with strong, eager thrusts. My cunt throbbed, and I gasped against your neck. Waves of tingling, whirling orgasm took me, and I sobbed my passion into your throat.

As my climax passed, I once more joined you in rhythm, driving harder toward your satisfaction, but shortly you paused, and murmured a question to me. Gleefully, I nodded. It was what I had longed for. You slid yourself from my dripping cunt, and turned yourself to lean against the wall. I fell to my knees and worshipped the dark triangle of the altar before me. My mouth swelled with lust, and I gently took your shaft in my hands, feeling the sticky remnants of my own juices drying on it. I took the head of your rigid cock between my lips, and slid my tongue gently around the rim of its smooth cap. You murmured something, and rested your hands on my shoulders. I sucked softly, still acquainting myself with the mingled tastes of my juices and yours. Then I slid my lips down, down along the shaft to fill my nostrils with the warm scent of your balls beneath my chin. Your pelvis thrust against me, driving your cock deep into my throat. I moved my tongue against it, sucking deep and massaging the shaft with my own strong muscle.

I stroked your balls with firm fingers, searching between them for the root of your cock. My cunt dripped with longing as my lips slid back and forth along the base of your cock, my tongue swirling around the column inside. You moved in gentle rhythm, and I hummed deep inside with joy at the fulfillment of my need. Faster and faster I rocked on my knees, holding your ass in the curve of one arm to brace myself against you. At last I felt the surging pulse against my tongue, and my mouth was filled with bittersweet flavor.

I held still, savoring the thrusts of your climax against my lips. And then, when you were finished, I rose to kiss your waiting mouth with the taste of your cum fresh in mine.

September 2018
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