woman on top
Scott woke with a start. Dark figures pervaded his vision and he felt the heat of open flames. One of the things was coming from his left and he thrashed about, grasping at anything he could reach, pushing himself away from the shadow. He found that he was on his back and he had to fight to move away from the shapeless figures. His hand struck some cold, hard object. With rising panic, he pushed it away from him.
As he did so, he heard a loud crash off to his left. Startled, he clawed his way into a sitting position and leapt forward. He fell a short distance before hitting solid ground. He was unhurt and stood, in a low crouch, surveying his location. It was dark and he couldn’t make out much. He saw a dim light coming from his left. It appeared to be a doorway.
A shadow appeared to his right, closing in. He made a break for the passage, but something heavy blocked his path. As he ran headlong into it, it made an unholy high-pitched squeal. He couldn’t make out what it was. It was only a shadow amongst shadows. So, he did the only thing he could do: he took a couple of steps backwards, ran forward and dove over it, headfirst.
His shoulder caught something solid and he cried out in pain. He saw stars as he fell, his hand sliding down the hard wall, trying to grasp at anything to stop his decent. As he landed with a heavy thud, the room was cast in a brilliant, white light. He curled up in an effort to protect himself from the coming abominations.
But nothing happened. He waited a bit longer, but nothing continued to happen. He decided that he would risk opening his eyes. The bright light hurt his eyes and he closed them tightly again. In the back of his mind, something was nagging him. Something wasn’t quite right. No, no. That wasn’t it. Everything was absolutely right and that was what was wrong. Slowly, carefully, he opened one eye.
He found himself lying face down on a hardwood floor, his very own hallway stretching out before him. A dust bunny flitted back and forth across the wood floor in time with his breaths, until in disgust he swept it away with his hand. He winced in pain as his right shoulder complained, white hot pain shooting through his neck. Slowly he turned himself over and righted himself, cradling his aching shoulder as he did so. He propped himself up into a sitting position in the doorway.
From this new position, he saw the hulking shape of his easy chair. Its fraying green mass was lying on it’s side. Scott sighed. It was obviously what he’d dived over before striking the doorframe squarely with his shoulder. He looked up and saw that the white, painted wood was now dented in one spot, presumably the impact location. He absent-mindedly rubbed his shoulder in awe that he wasn’t more hurt.
Next to the door, he saw that his bedroom light switch had been flicked. He’d probably hit it on his way to the floor. It was the one switch, in the entire house, that had been wired upside down. It had driven him crazy for months when he’d first moved in, but now he was grateful for the amateur handyman that had done so or else he might have run, screaming, all the way to the kitchen.
He pushed himself up with his legs until he was in a standing position. He stood there for a moment, looking as if he might fall over at the slightest provocation. Instead, he took a few steps forward and righted the chair, his shoulder screaming as he did so. Rubbing it with his left hand, he leaned heavily against the wall.
After a moment, the pain subsided and he continued his perilous trek across his bedroom floor. He rounded the corner, heading toward the bed. The covers were in such a disarray that he’d have to tear it all down to put them back on properly. A crunch underfoot, followed swiftly by a sharp stab of pain from his foot caused him to leap away from the spot and onto the bed.
Cradling his foot he collapsed onto the bed, rolling around on his back. He pulled his foot as close to his face as possible so that he could examine the damage. There, lodged in the sole of his foot, was a shard of aqua colored ceramics. He quickly brushed it away and it went flying from the bed onto the floor, where it bounced with a tick-tack sort of sound. He could see a small drop of blood where it had been lodged. It had barely pierced the skin, but it hurt just the same.
He wanted to get a better look at it, though, and he leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp. He waved his hand around for a moment, feeling for the lamp. It took a few seconds to register the fact that he was, indeed, not actually having much success in finding it. Frowning, he turned to look at the small table, but there was nothing there except for an alarm clock reading 8:46 AM.
A moment of swift logic brought him to an inevitable conclusion. His frown deepening, he leaned over the edge of the bed and examined the floor. There, he found that he had shattered his bedside lamp. Bits of aqua colored ceramics covered the floor. His mother had given him the lamp and she was not going to be happy. Then again, he’d hated it, so things being equal, it was okay.
He looked back at the clock, which now proudly displayed 8:47 AM in large, red LED numbers. Another look at the floor simply brought forth a sigh. He’d clean up the mess later. For now he needed a shower, badly.
He slowly crawled from the bed, carefully minding the shards of ceramic as he stepped onto the floor. Weaving his way across the room, he made his way over to an antique chest of drawers. It was probably the nicest piece of furniture he owned, also given to him be his mother. However, he didn’t seem to mind this piece quite so much.
He opened the top drawer and retrieved a fresh pair of boxers. Boxers in hand, he turned to head toward the bathroom. Glimpsing the state of his bedroom elicited another sigh. It looked like a bomb had gone off. A strong urge to straighten the room passed through him, but he didn’t give in. He explained to himself that he’d square this all away after he’d had a shower. With that, he trudged off down the hall.
Entering the bathroom, he tossed his boxers onto the vanity. They immediately fell into the sink. He flicked on the light and closed the door behind him. The bright light hurt his eyes for a moment and he winced. A large mirror hung above the vanity, but he didn’t even want to look at himself. He felt like shit and he probably looked like shit. Ignoring the mirror for the moment, he pushed the curtain aside, reached in and turned on the hot water. He straightened and shrugged out of his boxers, allowing them to fall to the floor a crumpled heap.
He stepped into the tub and turned the center knob. After a moment, hot steaming water gushed from the overhead nozzle, deluging him with relaxing warmth. Scott felt instantly better as the water poured over the nape of his neck. The water was a little warmer than he usually preferred it, but given the morning he’d had, it was refreshing all the same. He made a small circle with his injured shoulder. It was loosening his aching shoulder. With growing enthusiasm he realized his foot had already stopped throbbing. Progress.
As he stood there, he thought back to the nightmare he’d had. It had definitely been a nightmare as there was no other way to describe it. As it started, he was standing in a small chamber. It was hexagonal shaped. Around the perimeter of the room, probably three feet high, was a wall that appeared to be a cross between chiseled stone and molten rock. Large, rib-like structures jutted from the top of this wall at each of the six vertices. They were at least two feet thick near the bottom, tapering to a point of only an inch or so as they curved in, forming a domed ceiling.
Large, slap-like doors barred the exits, set into two of the flat surfaces. They ran parallel of each other and seemed quite solid. He tried opening one and then the other, but had found no way to do so. He called out, but there was no answer.
A round bed was the only object in the room, other than himself, so he naturally gravitated toward it. Suddenly, the dream shifted and he was tied to the bed, thrashing wildly. Strange beings of sinister design were entering through one of the, now open, doors. They would move to the side of the bed, examine him, and then move on, exiting through the other door. Through the open door, he could see flames and…
Suddenly, he was jarred from his flashback. Apparently, he had dropped the bottle of shampoo he’d retrieved and it was rattling around in the tub. With a look of embarrassment he reached down and picked it up. Shaking his head, he laughed. It had been a bad dream, that’s all. But it was the third night in a row and, if the current events were any indication, they were getting worse.
He poured a small amount of shampoo into his cupped hand and lathered up his hair. He then, fumbling, picked up a bar of soap from the shelf and moistened it under the stream of water. He then began to wash, building the soapsuds up into a heavy spume. He then rinsed both his hair and body, enjoying the steaming water.
When he was finished, he reached down and twisted the center knob. He then reached over and turned off the hot water and then the cold. He frowned. As his hand attempted to turn the cold tap, he realized that he’d never actually turned it on. Usually the water would have been so hot that he’d been scalded. He frowned again. He’d have to check the water heater this afternoon.
Stepping from the tub, onto the bath mat, he retrieved his towel from the hook set into the wall opposite the vanity. It was large and it was soft and it was exactly what he needed. He slowly toweled himself off, running the towel over his hair first. He winced as he got to his shoulder, but it was only a mild irritation now, only sensitive to the touch. He smiled, glad that his shoulder wasn’t as bad off as he’d thought.
He leaned over the vanity and, with the towel, wiped away the vapor from the mirror. It didn’t clear all of it away and through the remaining moisture he could see a hazy reflection of himself. He turned and examined his shoulder, but he couldn’t make out much of anything. He tried drying the mirror once more, but the moist air simply fogged it again. Wrapping the towel around him, he opened the door and strode out of the bathroom, flicking the light off as he exited.
Returning to the bedroom, he tossed the damp towel onto the back of the ratty recliner, which complained noisily as it rocked. He smiled as he realized that that had been the sound he heard when he was scrambling about, trying to leave the room. Then, realizing he’d left his boxers in the bathroom, he stepped over to the chest of drawers and opened the drawer once more. He sighed as he saw that the drawer was empty. He’d forgotten that he had needed to take care of the laundry.
He made an about face and stomped back toward the bathroom. As he entered the bathroom, he flipped on the light. The mirror had defogged a bit by this time and as he reached forward to pick up his boxers from the sink, he caught himself in the mirror. He stood there was a moment, unsure of what he was looking at. He pumped his jaw as an inarticulate sound emerged.
Standing in front of the mirror, he saw that his abs were firm and could just make out the beginnings of a chiseled six-pack. His chest looked broader and more developed. His arms were leaner and more muscular. His face had even slimmed. He stood in the mirror for a moment, admiring his body. It wasn’t his imagination. He flexed his newly found muscles in a mockery of a random assortment of body building poses.
All of this was great news, great news, indeed. That is if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d only been going to the gym for two weeks. He’d decided to start hitting the gym after he had met Miln. She had such a rocking body and he wanted to look his best for her. There was no way he could have gotten this ripped, this fast.
But, he was. He was on his way to the body he wanted and, honestly, he didn’t care how. A broad smile crept across his slimmer face. He just couldn’t help smiling. With a light heart, he snatched up his boxers from the sink, twirled them around his index finger, and then marched happily out of the bathroom.
He skipped down the hall, smiling to himself. As he skipped, her noticed that his legs were more toned and muscular as well, further adding to his childlike glee. On entering the bedroom, he snatched the towel from the recliner, rolled it into a ball, and punted it down the hall. Noticing that he was still completely naked he spun the recliner around, dropped heavily into it, and nearly jumped into his underpants.
Snapping his fingers, he danced around the bedroom until he was in front of his chest of drawers. He opened the sock drawer and upon finding socks in it, he let out a little cheer. He pulled out a pair of socks and from another drawer he pulled out a pair of khaki shorts. He retrieved a yellow polo shirt from the closet and dressed, humming quietly to himself. He closed the closet door and examined himself in the full length mirror that had been mounted on the back side.
He frowned at his frumpy appearance. “Ugh, this simply will not do!” he said out loud. He quickly opened the closet door and withdrew a pair of worn sneakers. He slipped them on and headed down the hallway. He turned left at the end of hallway, swiped his keys from the table next to the front door, and left the house.
He pondered where he wanted to go. Now that he was in shape, he wanted to show off all the hard work he’d put forth the past couple of weeks. He opened the driver side door to his Honda Civic and plopped down behind the wheel. Who would sell the type of clothes he was looking for? It needed be somewhere that sold athletic clothing. Then it dawned on him. He put the car in gear and quickly backed out of the driveway.
He drove down the road, enjoying the bright Saturday sunshine, rapping the steering wheel in time with a song on the radio. The sun was shining and he was in a hell of a good mood. He rolled down the windows and turned up the music. Damn, it was good to be alive.
He pulled up in front of the first store he could think of: REI. He’d never really been there, because he never did the kinds of things that would require their clothing. But all that would change now that he was in shape. He unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped lightly out of the car. He tossed his keys into the air, caught them and then shoved them into his pocket. He headed inside.
As the sliding, glass doors closed behind him, he took in the store. Rustic wood beams jutted out in excitingly rustic shapes. It gave the whole store an air of the outdoors. He thought that perhaps REI wasn’t the store in which he really wanted to be shopping. Then he figured what the hell, he was there.
He walked up to and peered at a mock camp site built in the center of the lower level of the store. A young boy was bent over a mock campfire with a mock stick with mock marshmallows on the end. A resin cast old man was gathering wood, opposite of the frozen campfire. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, he decided to just browse around and see what he could find.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for: fitted shirts. He wanted to show off those wonderfully toned abs that he’d spent all of two weeks developing. He rifled through several racks of clothing before he eventually found a couple that he liked. He tucked them under one arm and then wandered aimlessly through the store.
At one point, he found a pair of shorts that he liked and, miraculously, a pair of sunglasses that he actually thought looked good. He decided to go ahead and wear them while he browsed through the store. There was literally no one on the lower level of the store as he walked around. Eventually, he wandered up the stairs to the upper level. The upper floor was dedicated to women’s wear, but he didn’t care. He’d snagged a can of Red Bull, as he was walking around earlier, and figured it was time to pop it open.
There weren’t many people in the upper part of the store, either. He noticed one couple and a single blonde woman as he strode around aimlessly. The guy was build and the women all had athletic bodies. He could feel his eyes unconsciously traveling towards the women, admiring the way their clothes hugged the gentle curves of their fit bodies and the swells of their firm breasts. He had always had a bad habit of watching women in public, but now he seemed almost mesmerized by them.
Both the couple and the blonde caught him looking. The guy simply nodded at him, basically telling him to fuck off. After a while, they collected their items and headed off down the stairs toward the registers. The lone blonde on the other hand gave him a cute little smile. He smiled back, though she’d already turned her attention back to the clothes in front of her, and sauntered over.
“How’s it going?” he asked her, smiling, leaning against a rack of clothes. The rack squealed in protest as he did so, one garment falling to the floor. Scott didn’t notice.
“Um, fine,” she replied, barely glancing up from the shirts hanging in front of her, her long yellow hair, obscuring her face.
“I’m Scott,” he said, unperturbed, offering his hand. Up close, Scott could see she was trim. She was wearing a pair of bicycling shorts and a tight fitting shirt to match. His eyes traced the gentle curves of her smooth legs and her firm butt.
She, on the other hand, only looked at his hand. “Um, hi, Scott,” she said, with a flash of a smile. As she said the words, he felt an odd sensation wash over him. It wasn’t much different than the “comfortably numb” feeling one gets when they’ve had a bit too much to drink, except he was lucid. Or, at least, he thought he was.
“So, what’s your name?” he asked, leaning in a bit.
“It’s, Sarah,” she answered, this time turning to look at him. At the same time, she pushed back a lock of her golden hair. He felt her eyes lock onto his and some sort of connection seemed to form between them. He felt a stirring in his loins. The bizarre feeling deepened. He almost felt drunk.
“That’s a pretty name, Sarah,” he paused here for dramatic effect. “My name is Scott,” he continued, offering his hand.
“Um, you just told me that,” she said, laughing. Then, her face changed from one of mirth to one of alarm. After a brief pause, she followed with, “Are you drunk?” She waved her hands in front of the mirrored reflections of the sun glasses.
Suddenly, reality reasserted itself, snapping back like a rubber band, seemingly slapping Scott across the face. Scott felt his face flush and he was immediately embarrassed. “Oh, um,” he tried to say. He whisked the sun glasses from his face. They fell to the floor.
The woman watched him as if he was crazy and, from the way things appeared, that might not have been far from the truth. He slowly backed away, backing into one of the racks. Clothing and hangers spilled to the carpeted floor as the rack went askew. He then spun around and left the area as quickly as he could, hiding behind a large display near the back of the store. After a few minutes, once he was sure the coast was clear, he made his way back down the stairs, stopping only briefly to retrieve the sunglasses. It wasn’t often he found a pair he liked.
He’d decided he’d just pay for his items and get out before he embarrassed himself any further. However, at the register was the blonde girl. He looked to see if any of the other registers were open, but they weren’t. Ugh, she would recognize him in a heartbeat. How embarrassing. He made up his mind to just leave his items and get out of the store, when he felt the same, strange feeling begin to bubble to the surface once again. He seemed instinctively drawn toward the blonde and he couldn’t explain it. He shambled forward, slowly reaching for her like some undead zombie from countless horror films.
Her tight butt was just a few feet away. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there, he just knew that he wanted to touch her, to feel the gentle curve of that fine ass. Just as he was about to make contact, she suddenly moved and he heard someone say, “Thanks for shopping REI. Next customer, please.”
He froze where he stood. Slowly, he swiveled his head toward the source of the voice. It was a cute little brunette working at the cash register. She was looking at him in the same way the blonde had. For all intents and purposes, he did, in fact, look insane. He looked around himself quickly to see if there was anyone else. There wasn’t. Thank goodness for that.
He studied her for a moment. She was tall, thin, with long locks of dark hair spilling onto her shoulders and chest. She wore a tight fitting pair of designer jeans and an equally tight fitting blue t-shirt. The t-shirt barely covered her midriff and he could see the barest hint of skin underneath. She was nicely built, her breasts straining the tight fabric. A loose fitting green vest, sporting an REI logo, sat atop the shirt. The strange feeling, which had been slowly receding, resurfaced instantly.
“Hi,” he said. He leaned in and looked directly at her chest, slowly, making sure she saw him. Her name tag was pinned to the vest, just above the swell of her breasts, partially obscured by her luscious long hair. Her name tag contained not only her name, but also indicated she was the store manager.
She watched him curiously with a cautious smile on her face. There was something off about him. He didn’t seem dangerous, but definitely seemed either drunk or high. Possibly both. She cocked her head to one side as he continued to stare at her breasts and glowered at him.
He tossed the clothing he’d picked up onto the counter. “So, um,” he began. He reached forward and, before the woman could object, brushed the hair away from her name tag. He propped his elbows up on the counter, cradling his head in his hands. He then continued. “So, Carrie, you have to do everything here yourself?” he said.
Carrie couldn’t believe the audacity of this guy and couldn’t hide the surprise on her face as he so blatantly violated her personal space. “He is definitely a cocky bastard,” Carrie thought to herself. Physically, though, the response was a delayed look of shock and all she could get out was, “Excuse me?”
Scott lifted his head, off of his supporting hands, just long enough to reach out a second time and tap the hard plastic name tag. He could tell he was making the girl uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt in control. “You’re a manager, right?” he asked, his smile never wavering.
Carrie had, indeed, grown quite uncomfortable by this point and unconsciously taken a step away. She didn’t know how to react. She looked down at her name tag, as if to reacquaint herself with who she was and what her job title might be. Then she merely answered his question. “Yes, I’m the store manager.”
“And,” Scott began, turning and gesturing to the entire store with a wave of his hand, “you have to do all the work here, apparently?” Scott asked, turning back, smiling at her. Clearly the woman had no idea what he was getting at.
Carrie still didn’t understand what he was talking about. “I’m sorry?” She could feel her self relaxing the more she spoke to him. Her guard was dropping quickly.
Scott gave her a look of incredulity. “You’re the store manager, but you’re running the registers,” he said smugly. Here, Scott stepped back, spread his arms wide to indicate the registers.
Carrie couldn’t help herself and she smiled. He was a customer, after all, she needn’t be rude. “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” she said, laughing a little. “One girl called in sick and other was already off. This early in the morning there is hardly anyone here, so I am doing it all, like you said.” A small part of her wondered why was she telling him all of this.
Scott was having a great time, himself. He could tell that he had made her uncomfortable, but now she seemed to be opening up. The urge to touch her skin was growing, but he kept himself at an even keel and kept smiling. He offered his hand. “I’m Scott,” he announced. “Scott Birch.”
“Hi, Scott,” she said, amiably enough, tilting her head in a cute fashion. She took his hand and gave it a hearty shake. She felt a feeling of warmth wash over her. “My name is Carrie,” she began, before stopping herself. She let his hand fall away. “Um, just Carrie.” She felt herself flush and gave him a nervous little smile. In an attempt to hide it, she then busied herself with ringing up his items.
She found herself strangely attracted to him and she couldn’t explain why. He was extremely cocky and, from all outward appearances, kind of an ass. He had no problem looking her in the eyes and he didn’t feel the need to apologize. It was strange, he didn’t strike her as the “bad boy” type, but he definitely seemed sure of himself. Correction, he seemed full of himself.
He looked away from her, his attention drawn by something random. “So, Just Carrie, what else do you do when you’re not doing all the work at the local REI?” he asked, as she rang up his items.
She thought about this for a moment, as she bagged his items. “Well, I like to bicycle and I take a kickboxing…” she began, before Scott cut her off.
He nearly laughed as he responded. Gesticulating with his arms he clarified, “No, no, no. I mean, what do you do for FUN.” With that last word, he turned his head to face her, a smile on his face, as he annunciated the word slowly. Fun, with a capital “F.”
She felt herself flush again, but by this time she felt completely relaxed. She laughed loudly, this time. The guy was almost intoxicating to be around. She felt her defenses slipping away. She smiled and said, “Hey, those things ARE fun to me!”
Scott felt his manhood beginning to swell as they moved deeper into the conversation. He was incredibly attracted to this woman, but he’d only known her for a couple of minutes. He couldn’t take it any longer. He wanted this woman. He turned toward her, his face suddenly serious, and asked point blank, “Do you want to go somewhere and do something fun with me today?”
Carrie wanted to, badly, but she couldn’t explain why. Everything he said sounded like a great idea. An image of herself, riding him right there on the countertop, flickered through her mind. “Why do we need to go anywhere?” she asked. “We can have fun right here,” she said, slipping out of her vest and walking around the counter.
She leaned in and kissed him hard. He instinctively put his arms around her, pulling her closer. He could feel the soft mounts of her breasts pressed against his chest and her soft lips pressed against his. The feeling of euphoria intensified. He let her go just enough to squeeze his hand between her and himself. The hand snaked its way down until it found her zipper.
Suddenly, the trance was broken as two tones of an electronic bell sounded loudly. A customer was entering the store. Scott let go of Carrie and she fell back against the counter, breathing hard. She recovered after a few moments. “What just happened?” she asked, confused.
Scott wasn’t sure, himself. It was as if he had been awash in pure, animalistic lust. She looked back over her shoulder at the two customers that had entered the store. “I don’t know what just happened, but…” she said, trailing off. “I’m sorry.”
Scott shook himself, trying to clear his clouded mind, the fog slowly receding. Within moments, reality came rushing in again and the odd feeling dissipated completely. The spell was definitely broken. For the first time since he’d come into the store, he was at a loss for words.
“Um, yeah,” was all he could muster.
Carrie quickly slipped back into her vest and resumed her post behind the counter. She smiled awkwardly at him and said, “Um, here’s your stuff.” She handed him his bag before adding, “Oh, it’s eighty-three twelve.”
“Yeah.” Scott smiled wanly at her, almost embarrassed. He fished out his wallet, extracted his credit card and handed it to her.
She swiped the card through the reader and waited for it to authorize his transaction. It was an awkward silence, especially after the exchange they’d just had. He seemed almost shy now. It was truly bizarre and she was visibly relieved when the machine began to print out his receipt.
She tore the receipt off of the printer and placed it on the counter. After a moment of hesitation, she smiled and retrieved a pen from the cup beside the register. She scribbled on the receipt with it for a moment. She handed Scott the receipt and his credit card. As he took the items she said, “Thank you for shopping REI,” with a curt smile.
Dejected, Scott left the building and shuffled back to his car. Flopping down behind the steering wheel, he stuffed his credit card and receipt into the bag and tossed the bag into the passenger seat. He felt so embarrassed about the way he’d acted in the store. What was happening to him? He thought about it for a moment. He’d felt libidinous, for lack of a better word. Actually, the more he thought about it, there was no better word. He would have taken Carrie right there in the store if the customers hadn’t entered. He could feel it.
Scott started the car and put it into reverse, backing slowly out of the parking space. He took one look back at the store front, watching the girl ringing up one of the customers that had interrupted them. With a sigh, he put the car in drive and left the parking lot.
He drove slowly down the road, lost in his thoughts. Only when the car behind him blew its horn at him, did he shake himself out of the funk he was in and accelerate. After a few minutes, he pulled into his driveway and parked the car. He snatched his bag from the passenger seat and exited the car, slamming the door shut.
At the front door, he gathered his mail from the postbox, affixed to the wall, next to the door. He struggled to unlock the wrought iron gate that barred access to the front door, eventually dropping the mail. Finally, wrenching the gate open, he then unlocked the front door. As soon as he had the door open, he picked up the mail and dumped it onto the small table that sat just inside the door. It immediately spilled back onto the floor. Now pissed off, he aimed for the couch and tossed his REI bag across the room. It landed at least a foot away from the couch, failing to travel far enough. Scott ignored it and picked up the mail a second time.
He slipped out of his worn sneakers and kicked them carelessly toward the living room. They tumbled a few feet before colliding with an end table. He stomped off to the kitchen in search of something to eat. In his sudden glee that morning, he’d failed to eat anything for breakfast and now he was incredibly hungry. Hopefully, he actually had something eat.
He walked down the short hallway from the foyer and entered the small dining area. Here, a few dry groceries, that he’d meant to put away, were piled on top of the small, round wooden table that adorned the center of the room. He spied an unopened bag of potato chips within the random assortment of goods. Without hesitation, he picked these up and headed through the far doorway into the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, he tore open the bag of chips. He absent-mindedly stuffed chips into his mouth as he purveyed the area for something to go with them. Not readily seeing anything, he crossed the room to the refrigerator and hefted it open. Since he’d missed breakfast, breakfast sounded fantastic, so he grabbed a couple of eggs, sausage, and some hash brown potatoes.
He bent and opened the cabinet to the right of the oven, pulling out two scuffed skillets. He placed one of these on a large, back burner and turned the burner to “high”. He put the other pan on a small burner in the front. He twisted the knob for the smaller pan, turning it on about half way. He poured a quantity of oil into the pan in the back. He threw a couple of sausage patties into the smaller pan.
After a couple of minutes the back pan was sizzling. He reduced the heat slightly and tossed in the contents of the bag containing the hash brown potatoes. By this time the patties were also sizzling. So, he carved off a small pat of butter, which went into the pan with the sausage. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but it tasted great. After a few seconds, the butter began to melt.
He picked up the pan and tilted it in various directions, running the small quantity of butter around inside the skillet, coating the bottom with yellow goodness. Once it had been well covered, he cracked the eggs open and poured them into the pan with the sausage. Retrieving a spatula from a drawer, he then began scrambling the eggs and breaking up the sausage into small pieces. The potatoes were then flipped and began to brown on the other side.
After a few more minutes of culinary artistry, breakfast was ready. He scooped the potatoes out of the pan and slid them onto a waiting plate. He picked up the pan containing the eggs and turned it up at an angle so that the contents slid neatly onto the plate, next to the potatoes. No sooner was the food on the plate before he dug in with a fork, completely forgetting about the chips.
He carried the plate out of the kitchen, into the living room, and he set it on the coffee table. He snatched the television remote from the arm of the old tan leather couch and plopped down. The TV came to life as he pushed the power button on the remote. He found an old rerun of the Twilight Zone, which seemed decent enough.
He picked up the plate and began to finish his meal. It only took a few short minutes for him to scarf everything down. He leaned back on the couch, relaxed now that he was in familiar surroundings and well fed. As he watched The Twilight Zone, he recognized the episode as “Where Is Everybody?” It was about a world where everyone began disappearing and only one man realized it. He couldn’t help thinking that his last few days closely paralleled that of one of Rod Serling’s episodes: everything starts off seemingly normal, but slowly things spiral into the bizarre.
As soon as the current episode ended, another started. Apparently there was a marathon going that Saturday. Scott decided his life was already strange enough, so far that day, so he turned the television off and tossed the remote onto the couch. It bounced around a bit before it fell onto the carpeted floor.
He leaned over the edge of the couch to pick it up and found that it had landed next to his REI bag. With a great strain, he reached further and tried to pick up the bag. He could only reach it with the tips of his fingers, but after a moment they began to gain a little traction and he was able to pull the bag toward him. He turned over and lay on his back, reclining against the arm of the sofa. He dumped the contents of the bag into his lap.
First from the bag came tumbling the pair of sunglasses, then followed immediately by everything else. The receipt floated down and landed on the floor next to him. He first examined the shirts. They looked so tiny, he couldn’t believe that he would now be able to fit into them. He reached down and pulled his shirt up, exposing his abs. They looked even more chiseled than he’d remembered and the smile, somewhat subdued, returned to his face.
He stood and took off his shirt, then slipped one of the fitted tees over his head. It hugged his body as he pulled it down over him. He then slipped out of his shorts and tried on the new pair. He then padded off down the hall to the bathroom to check out his new look.
As he entered the bathroom, he flicked on the light. He stood in front of the mirror and checked himself out. He definitely looked more defined now, much more so than when wearing his frumpy t-shirt and fraying khaki shorts. He slid the shirt back up, revealing his abdominals.
The smile crept back onto his face as he examined them. It wasn’t his imagination, he really did seem to be more cut than he was that morning. That was impossible, though. The mirror was still fogged a bit, earlier, maybe he had misinterpreted what he’d seen. Either way, he still looked fantastic. His vigor renewed, he snapped up his shirt and slung it over his shoulder before leaving the bathroom.
He walked back up the hall and into the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and picked up his old shirt and shorts from the floor, where they lay. As he did so, the receipt fell into his lap. He picked it up, with intent to shove it into the plastic REI bag. Just before he did so, he realized that something had been written near the top in pink ink.
He frowned for a moment, reading it. Suddenly his face lit up as he realized who had written it. It said, “Meet me. Soprano 10P.” Soprano 10P? What the hell was that? Then it came to him. Soprano was the club on 12th Street, downtown. At 10:00 PM, he guessed. Wow, she wanted to see him tonight. His earlier good mood reasserted itself as he jumped up from the couch, almost cheering.
He trotted quickly down the hall to the bedroom and rummaged through his closet. He hadn’t been to a club in a long while and he seriously doubted he actually had any clothes that would pass. Picking out several shirts from the closet, he placed them on the bed. He walked back and forth, looking at them all, but none of them seemed to be worthy of his impending date.
A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly noon. There was plenty of time to go out and find something interesting. He walked back up to the living room and put his new shirt back on, snugged on his sneakers, and grabbed his keys.
Later that night, he found himself parked just down the street from the Soprano Club. He’d done a little research, thankfully, before leaving the house and he knew what he was in for. It’d taken him half the day to find what he was looking for and he was quite pleased with the result. He’d spent the rest of his time cleaning up the house. He checked himself out in the rearview mirror one last time. He let out a pent up sigh and then said, “Let’s do this.”
He opened the door to the car and stepped out onto the asphalt in a new pair of black loafers. A dark pair of straight legged jeans followed and then his crisp dark leather belt. Above the waist he wore a smart, button-down white shirt, with long sleeves, and a dark blazer. He left the blazer open and in the gulf of the blaring white hung a loose fitting thin black tie.
Now that he’d trimmed up the clothes fit great and he felt great. It was probably the best he’d ever looked. Casual, but not too casual. He’d shaved and everything. He adjusted his tie and made his way around the corner.
As soon as he rounded the corner, he was assaulted by sights and sounds. Pools of people were gathered everywhere, chatting, laughing, and smiling. He looked up at the neon lights announcing that this was, indeed, the Soprano Club. A pair neon red lips, parted as if it were singing, were paired next to the bold blue letters of SOPRANO. Bold yellow music symbols surrounded it all. He smiled. This was the first time he’d been there. Actually, the more he thought about it, he guessed it was the first time in a while he’d been out anywhere.
As he approached a throng of people, smiling and talking amongst themselves, one of the girls turned and smiled at him, before rejoining the conversation with her friends. She didn’t freak out and she didn’t look at him in an odd way. Scott smiled, his confidence boosted. He could feel the strange feeling of drunken lust ever so slightly emerging.
He kept a lookout for Carrie. She hadn’t said where’d she be, only when she’d be there. Scott pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time: 10 o’clock on the dot. He bounded up the steps as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. When he reached the top of the stairs, he wished he’d have arrived earlier.
A wall of people stretched down the ramp and around the side of the building, all waiting to get inside. He scanned them with his eyes, but didn’t find Carrie among them. She might have already been inside. Surely they’d let him in. He turned to head toward the door and came face to face with a large bouncer.
He was the most stereotypical bouncer he’d ever seen: shaved head, goatee, built, large gut, and arms as big around as Scott’s own neck. The bouncer held out a hand and said, “Can’t you see the line, buddy?”
Scott looked at the line and then back at the bouncer. He sized the man up and he could feel that the bouncer was doing the same. “Um, yeah. The thing is, I’m supposed to meet someone and she’s already here.” He added a smile for extra oomph.
It had no effect on the muscle-bound man. He merely pointed a meaty finger in the general direction of the line and said, “End of the line.”
Scott looked at the line again and then back at the man. He was beginning to feel a new sensation building in him. He couldn’t describe it exactly, only that he was suddenly filled with overwhelming confidence. He remained very calm. He didn’t want to cause waves, rock the boat, and a myriad of other cliches. But now, this guy was disallowing him access to the place he needed to be. He looked the man up and down once more and knew deep down inside that, if worse came to worst, he could take him.
Scott stepped forward a step and said evenly, “You don’t understand. I need to get in there. Now.”
The man stepped forward himself, his face nearly touching Scott’s. “And you don’t seem to understand friend. I said, ‘back of the line.’ That means BACK OF THE LINE.” And the man reached out to push Scott away.
Just as his hand came into contact with Scott’s chest, Scott reached up with his right hand and grabbed the man’s wrist, stopping him cold. The man tried to push him, but found the he could not. In sudden shock and dismay, he tried to withdraw his hand and found that it was equally impossible. Scott help him like a steel trap. Scott pulled him in close and laid his left hand on the bouncer’s shoulders.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to get inside,” Scott said, quietly.
The man’s face was bright red with anger and he shook but, as Scott spoke the words, a dramatic change came over his face. The crimson color washed immediately from his face, so much so, that he almost looked pale. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. Scott released him and the bouncer stumbled backwards, dazed for a moment.
It took the bouncer a second to come around, but then he emphatically said, “Well, yeah. You need to get in there, man.” He said it in a jovial voice and smiled at Scott. He moved aside and gestured toward the door with his two meaty arms.
Scott wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he figured he’d better go ahead and get in there before the bouncer realized what he was doing. He cautiously walked past the beefy man and entered the club. As Scott passed him, he heard the bouncer say, “Have fun, sir.”
As he entered the club he was hit with contradictory visuals and sounds. A long staircase ascended directly in front of him, leading to a loft-like area at the top. To his left was set a large bar, people milling all about, and some small booths set along the wall, sloping under the upper floor. To his right was the dance floor. A DJ was set up at the far end, bouncing to the thundering beats.
Up the stairs appeared to be a cocktail lounge. He could see another, smaller, bar up there with tables, chairs, and couches applied liberally in the available floorspace. Large screens hung on two of the walls, playing two different black and white movies. Scott didn’t recognize either of them.
Subdued blue lighting gave the place an otherworldly feel. The club was packed and there were people everywhere. A laugh here, a shout there, from no discernible source. Normally, Scott would be uncomfortable with so many people surrounding him, but tonight he felt relaxed and in control. He could feel the lusty warmth bubbling underneath his skin, being near so many attractive women.
Suddenly a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He wheeled around and found himself face to face with Carrie. She was wearing a tiny little blue dress. It was cinched in at the waist and the material was gathered just above her belly button, giving the impression that everything was stretched toward that point. The dress barely covered her butt and was pulled tight between her thighs. There were small ties on either side to pulling the material tight against her skin. The dress gave new meaning to the phrase “plunging neckline.” The material opened up a couple of inches above her waist. The gap widened as it ran up her body, exposing a copious amount of her generous breasts, until it formed a loop behind her neck. Her dark hair spilled down in all directions. Scott took her in. Damn she looked sexy.
“Excuse me, do I know you?” he asked, playfully.
Carrie offered her hand. “I don’t think you do,” she said, coyly, smiling. “My name is Carrie.”
The warm feeling washed over him as she said her name. Scott struck a pose of thought and then shook her hand. “I know a Just Carrie,” he said. “Are you related?”
At that, Carrie laughed. Scott looked her up and down, the lust beginning to build in his blood. “Do you want a drink?” he asked.
“No, let’s get out of here,” she said with a smile and then tugged on his hand, moving toward the door. He’d just gotten there. Hell, he’d almost beat a bouncer to get inside, but she was already ready to leave. He shrugged and decided to just go with the flow.
She led him back outside, through the double doors. The bouncer was still there, who courteously shoved someone roughly aside so that Scott and Carrie could exit. As they left the building, they heard the bouncer say, “Have a good night, sir.” They walked down the steps, weaving around people coming and going, and headed toward the parking lot.
As they walked, the tension steadily built and, as soon as they rounded the corner, Carrie grabbed Scott by the collar, spun him around, and pushed him into the rough brick wall. Her lips locked onto his, pushing his head back against the wall, one leg rubbing up against his. He, in turn, grasped her around the waist, pulling her closer to him. The feeling of shear intoxicating lust engulfed them both.
Carrie heard a quiet laugh as a group of young women passed by them. She backed off and smiled at him before grabbing Scott by the hand. She weaved a path through the parking lot toward the parking deck. There, they found a set of stairs and descended, emerging two levels down. They crossed the dimly lit garage and found a secluded corner, with a lone car parked nearby.
Carrie didn’t understand the way she was acting, but she definitely understood the way she felt. She had planned this far in advance. “I parked down here earlier, just in case,” Carrie said, as she pushed Scott on to the trunk a car that was parked in the dark area. “I knew we were going to do this before you even left the store this morning,” she continued, biting her lip.
“Good thinking,” Scott said as he put his arms around her neck and pulled her to him.
They locked into another kiss as she fumbled with his belt, attempting to loosen it. He lifted the back of her dress and splayed his hand across her firm ass, squeezing it ever so gently. He could hear her take a sharp intake of air. She finally got his belt off and began working on the fastener of his pants.
He ran his hands up and inside the back of her dress, across her bare back and began kissing her neck. She let out a quiet, shuttering sigh. He began near her shoulder, softly kissing her as he made his way to her neck. Once he reached her neck, he began to suckle the skin. He could feel her tense in his arms, her breathing becoming ragged. She completely forgot about the zipper that she’d been trying to unfasten and let her hand fall away.
He squeezed her toned ass once more, sending her over the edge. She came, standing there behind the car, lost in his embrace. It was short, but intense. She shook with the exertion, uttering a low moan, nearly collapsing when it was over.
She breathed heavily and smiled. “Wow,” she said. “I’ve never come like that before.”
Scott raked a bit of her hair behind her ear and whispered in her ear, “There’s a lot more where that came from.” He could feel her shiver as he said it.
She pushed him back onto the trunk and resumed unfastening his pants. She slipped off his shoes and then yanked off his pants, tossing them behind her. His boxers came off next. To Carrie, Scott was an aphrodisiac, and all she wanted to do was please him and be pleased by him. She’d never felt this way in her entire life.
Scott felt almost beyond himself with drunken lust. He was enjoying this far more than any normal sexual encounter, even when they’d been between himself and the succubus, Miln. He seemed awash in it, almost energized by it. Just the sheer utterance of his name would cause another wave to come crashing over him.
As she removed his boxers, she finally caught sight of his manhood and she felt another wave of pleasure rock through her. Just being around him made her feel good. Her sex was throbbing, aching to have his cock inside it. She was on the verge of coming again, just looking at his bulging member.
She gripped his shaft tightly with her right hand and slowly tugging at him gently. It didn’t take long until he began to harden. He was impressive even before she began and he was becoming more impressive the harder he got. As he stiffened, she leaned in and began to softly suckle the head, rubbing his thigh with her free hand. She heard him take a sharp breath.
Scott leaned back and just enjoyed all the sensations. Everything she did was magnified ten fold by the overwhelming waves of bliss that were continuously rolling through him. Though the pleasure was intense, he also felt completely in control. He could feel her warm hands encircling his throbbing member and her soft lips sucking at the head. It would send shivers of pleasure through him periodically as she nibbled on the tip.
She continued pumping his cock as she circled the head with her long tongue. Feeling Scott stiffen underneath her, she felt another wave of pleasure roll through her, like thunder of an impending storm. She could feel the telltale tingle of a pending release building inside her. She rubbed her thighs together unconsciously, as she teased the tip of his penis with her teeth, sending blazing warmth through her.
Carrie was not content to simply suck on the tip of his cock. She began alternating between suckling the tip and pumping him with her hand. Each time she would take him into her mouth just a little further, until finally, she was taking him in as far as she could. Her lips now firmly wrapped around his rock hard erection, she began to slowly suck him. Her hand, which was previously occupied, now busied itself with massaging his tight scrotum.
She began slowly and built up speed, her head bobbing up and down, as she blew him. From Scott’s point of view, all he could see was a mass of hair, thrashing about. But the sensations — the sensations were incredible. He could feel her hot lips gripping his manhood tightly, sliding up and down the length of it. The sensations were growing stronger each time she went down on him and he felt himself edging closer.
Carrie could feel her own sex beginning to throb, tingles of warmth lighting her afire. She began rocking her hips as the pressure and tension began to build. She couldn’t believe she was about come again, simply from sucking his cock. With her left hand she began to claw at his leg gently with her nails. She could feel him beginning to buck his hips. She didn’t want him to come yet, but she couldn’t stop herself.
Suddenly, she felt Scott tense and arch his back. She sucked him faster, urging him to come, but he never did. Instead, she came hard. This time the surge of pleasure was so great that she staggered and nearly collapsed to the ground as sheer nirvana wracked her body. Her knees buckled and she let his manhood slip from her mouth. Falling hard against the bumper of the car, she let out a low moan as amazing joy crested and washed over her. Her hands immediately went to her swollen sex.
Scott also felt a tremendous wave of bliss, of a far greater magnitude than anything he’d experienced before, pass through him at the same time. He instinctively thrust his hips forward. Then he felt her melt away from him, apparently wrapped up in similar throes. He sat there, rigid, as the wave crashed over him for a few moments. Once it was over, he looked down to see Carrie leaning against the trunk of the car convulsing. He hadn’t come, but it sure felt like.
He hopped down from the trunk and stood beside her, helping her to her feet. She breathed heavily and leaned on him for support, taking one step forward as she lost her balance. After a moment, she indicated that she was okay. He picked her up and neatly placed her on the trunk. He then pulled up her dress, exposing her moist panties. He quickly pulled these off and added them to the pile behind him.
Carrie had just begun to catch her breath when she felt a warm, wet object probing her sensitive and engorged pussy lips. She tensed as, instantly, another orgasm rolled through her. The intensity was so great, she could barely breathe and she just sat there, her mouth agape and trembling. After a few seconds, she collapsed backwards onto the windshield, breathing raggedly, shivering.
She looked down to see Scott’s face buried between her legs. He was amazing. She could feel him licking her, with long, thick strokes. She could feel him moving deeper and deeper, occasionally nibbling on her puffy lips. Suddenly, she could feel his tongue brush over her sensitive clit. The pleasure was so intense that she wriggled and writhed on the metal trunk of the car. She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him deeper into her sex.
As his hot, wet tongue probed deeper, his hands began to wander. They snaked their way up from her legs to her hips, then up from hips to her abdomen. With every lick and every suckle, he was bringing her closer to the edge. She alternately pushed him away and pulled him deeper into her, trying to force him to hit just the right spot. She wore an unconscious smile on her face as he continued delving deeper, periodically letting out a gasp.
Scott’s hands made their way under her dress and to her breasts. There, he softly kneaded one of her beautifully formed breasts as he gently tweaked the hard red bud of the other. Warm tingling pleasure raced from her breast, causing her to instinctively put her hand on his, pressing it firmly into her breast. Carrie could feel the telltale tickle of her impending release approaching and she began rocking her hips in time with the exploratory thrusts of his tongue.
Within seconds she was on the edge. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She sat completely stiff on the trunk of the car, her hips the only part of her body in motion. Scott gently squeezed the nipple of her other breast and a shockwave of bliss passed through her. Her body rocked with the effort of her orgasm and she let out a series of moans as the intense bolts of pleasure shot through her.
As it passed, she collapsed heavily against the rear windshield of her car, her chest heaving. Scott relinquished his hold on her breasts and stood. He scooped her up off of the car and hugged her tightly, kissing her neck. She smiled and gripped him tightly around the neck, pulling him toward her. She could feel is solid chest collide with her soft bosom as their bodies made contact.
He pushed her away and then plunged toward her mouth, locking into a passionate kiss. Carrie could feel warmth and tingles all over her body as if it were electrified. Scott’s hand had made its way to her exposed sex and had begun rubbing it in a circular motion. She could feel the tension beginning to build within her almost immediately.
She could feel his warm hand circling her sensitive sweet spot, urging her closer to her climax. She could feel the tickle beginning at the base of her spine and she began thrusting her hips forward, setting a rhythm. The tickle traveled around her hips and engulfed her butt. At this point she was bucking her hips with much more force, pushing his deft fingers deeper into her enflamed sex. Finally, the tickle made its way around the front of her thighs, igniting her mound.
Scott could feel Carrie beginning to tense. She was thrusting her hips forward with so much force that he had trouble keeping contact with her clit. Suddenly, she tensed. He pulled her tightly toward him and doubled the speed of his hand, prolonging her orgasm. She convulsed several times, her mouth agape. Scott felt another tremendous wave of intense pleasure pass through him.
Once they had both recovered, Carrie slid herself off of the trunk of the car and stood before Scott. She pulled him tightly against her body and spun him around, pinning him against the side of the car. Her hands went around his neck and she kissed him deeply. A smile crept up on her face, forcing her to break off the kiss. She had never felt this way in her life.
She eyed the back car door on the passenger side and smiled at Scott. She let him go, just long enough to reach down and open the door. The inside of the car was dimly lit by the overhead dome light as she opened the door. She then grabbed and practically threw him into the back seat. He barely had time to sit up before Carrie was on top of him.
She reached down and began fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, slowly unfastening each one in turn. He helped her by slipping out of his jacket as she worked on the buttons. Once the shirt and jacket were off, Carrie tossed them out through the open car door behind her. Scott helped Carrie shrug out of her tight, blue dress. The dress quickly followed Scott’s suit.
It was the first time Scott had seen Carrie’s breasts on all their glory and they did not disappoint. They were quite large for her thin body and fit neatly in his large hands, with which he now grasped them. Carrie, likewise, wasn’t disappointed with Scott. He had rock hard chest muscles and chiseled abs and lean arm muscles. Carrie reached back with her foot and yanked the door closed with the toe of her foot.
In the near darkness, Scott pulled Carrie close, hugging her against his body. He could feel the soft mounds of her large breasts pushing against his well-toned chest. She pushed him down hard against the seat of the car, kissing him ferociously. Scott kissed her back in earnest as he slid himself backwards, making some additional room.
Carrie pushed her sex down, pinning Scott’s throbbing member between her sensitive pussy lips. She felt Scott’s cock re-harden as she she did so. She felt awash in pleasure as she began slowly stroking his cock with her enflamed sex. She gasped and smiled as one particularly intense wave passed through her. “He’s not even inside of me yet and I’m ready to come again,” she thought to herself. What was going on? She thought that he might have slipped something to her, but she’d felt the same way at the store and he’d had no contact with her at all. After a few moments, she realized she didn’t care.
Scott was still hugging Carrie tightly against him and he could feel the swells of her breasts slowly rubbing against him. It felt like electricity. Sparks of lust bubbled and burst around where they made contact. He pulled her down and kissed her hard, again.
She lifted him up until he was in a sitting position. She continued grinding against his throbbing sex. Once he was upright, she intensified her movements and kissed him even more intently. He grasped her tight butt and pulled her closer, making the contact between her sex, and his, even greater. Carrie shuttered for a moment, sure that she was going to come. After a moment, the feeling diminished, but just barely.
I stepped from the cab into the pouring rain. Holding my leather Bosca briefcase over my head, I cursed under my breath for leaving my umbrella at the office. I reached into my suit pocket and quickly withdrew a sum of cash from my wallet. I rapped on the window with my hand and the driver slowly rolled it down, just an inch. I pushed the money through the opening toward the driver. He grunted something and immediately rolled the window back up. With a whine, he put the car into gear. It shuttered and then began moving up the street. I watched as he drove away, the taillights gleaming in the dark, wet night, leaving me alone on the street corner.
As the taillights disappeared from view I let my eyes fall to the rain slick sidewalk. Trash flowed down the gutter along the side of it, a flyer for a band of some sort caught on a sprouting blade of grass. My eyes travelled up from the sidewalk to the building itself. Graffiti covered the exposed lower walls framing a grimy, glass door. Dim light shone weakly from the smoked glass of the door and between the rusted bars covering a small window set into the granite wall.
I looked up into the night sky. Even though rain pelted my eyes, making it hard to see, I could see more windows set into the hard stone building, some were lit, and some were not. A fire escape led from the top of the building in a zig zag pattern across the face and ended about 20 feet above my head. The whole building said, “go away.”
I shook the cold rain from my hand and reached into my right hip pocket. I retrieved the business card and checked the address. “69 Lowry Street” it said in brazen, black letters. I looked up through the torrents of rain and there, written in plain, black numbers above the door was the number “69.” I glanced at the street sign behind me. It was listing at an precarious angle but clearly read “Lowry St SW.” This was the place.
I tucked the card between two of my fingers and absent-mindedly flicked at it with my thumb, looking at nothing. It’d been a stressful day, nothing had gone well; a major vendor had pulled out of a deal. I’d returned to my office after a particularly devastating conference call to find the card resting upon a small, expensive cream-colored card. The card read: “Find what you need.” That was it. Nothing more. I threw both the cards into the trash and sat down.
As I worked at my PC, I found my thoughts drifting to the card. What did it mean? Who left it? What was it, as far as they were concerned, did I need? I dug the business card out of the trash and looked at it. “69 Lowry Street” was the only text printed on either side.
I turned back to my PC, brought up a map site, and searched for the address. It appeared to be a non-descript building in the older part of town. There didn’t seem to be a business associated with the address, nor did it seem to be a residential building. I flipped over to a search engine and entered the address. Other than the map result, I found nothing. It was as if the building didn’t exist.
I laughed to myself as I stood in the pouring rain. My curiosity had been a little more than piqued. Thoughts of covert spies, government agents, and more, had flooded my mind, but now that I had seen the building all of those thoughts were washed away like the trash in the gutter.
I sighed, figuring I might as well check it out now that I was there. I reached out to the rusted door handle and gave it a tug, expecting it to be locked. It came open freely; causing me to stumble backwards, cool air assaulting me. I looked into the room beyond. I could see nothing beyond a worn wall facing the street. It appeared the door lead into a hallway, which immediately turned to the right, probably leading to the small window I noticed earlier. It may not be much to look at, but it was dry. I quickly stepped inside.
Once inside I quickly removed my duster and shook the water from my briefcase. I ran my fingers through my short, black hair slicking it back, trying to squeeze a bit of moisture from it in the process. The narrow hallway in which I stood extended perhaps three feet ahead before turning to the right.
I stepped forward and peered around the wall. Sitting in a rickety metal fold-up chair sat the largest bouncer I had ever seen. While extremely overweight, he looked well built. His head was shaved, nicks and scratches here and there. Tattoos covered both arms down to his wrists. A scar ran down from his upper lip through the coarse hairs of his goatee. I was a pretty well built guy myself, but this man was massive and wasn’t someone to trifle with. He was reading a newspaper and hadn’t noticed me.
Curiosity be damned, I was getting out of there. I turned on my heel to leave. Unfortunately doing so made a loud squeak, which reverberated through the tiny hallway. I cringed and froze. “Can I help you?” came a growl from behind me.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and turned around. When I opened them I realized I was staring at the man’s chest. My eyes travelled up his body until it reached his scarred face, my mouth widening into what I hoped was a genuine looking smile. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve got the wrong address,” I said, starting to back away.
He reached out a fairly massive hand, which came to rest on my shoulder. “No one comes here unless invited,” he said, as if he were chewing on a boulder.
What the hell? I reached into my pants pocket and retrieved the business card and held it up for him. He leaned back, snatched the card from my hand, and read it. He peered from it to me and back to the card. He then handed the card to me and said, “Everything seems to be in order, sir.” He stepped aside, allowing me to pass. For the first time I noticed a large, veiled opening to the right of where the man had been sitting. Incredulously, I looked from the doorway to the man, who was in the act of sitting back down. What was going on?
I stepped toward the doorway. The curtain looked expensive. It shone, was slightly transparent, trimmed in complex embroidery. Glancing over my shoulder once more to assure myself that I should proceed, I found the man was already reading the newspaper. I took a deep breath, grasped the material with my free hand, and pulled it to one side.
What greeted my eyes took me by surprise. The floors all appeared to be of marble. Rich tapestries hung from immaculately painted walls. Veils of gold, orange, and pink hung from arches lining the bottom floor. Lacquered wood lined the stairs and walls. I looked up to see that there were several floors, each painted a majestic color of its own, large columns supporting each tier. The room was far too big to be encompassed inside the one building I had entered. It had to be part of the adjacent building.
“Why, hello there!” I heard a cheery voice call out from behind me. Startled, I spun around. Standing just behind me was a small woman with short, curly hair. She looked to be about 50 or so, dressed in a long gown. She was smiling, hands clasped in front of her.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and said, “You scared me half to death.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, leaning her head to one said. “That, of course, was not my intention.”
“It’s okay. I’m just not sure what I’m doing here,” I said matter of factly.
“Ah, it is your first time, Mr. Stephenson,” she said cheerily.
I was taken aback. “How do you know my name?”
“You received a card, yes?” she asked.
“Well, yes, but I have no idea who from.” Here I gestured vaguely at the room. “Or what any of this is about.”
“First, Mr. Stephenson, you are perfectly safe here. Safer than anywhere else in Manhattan,” she said, clasping her arm around mine. “Secondly, please come this way,” she said and we strode off toward the grand staircase leading up to the next floor.
“You say you do not know who left the card for you?” she asked as we walked.
“No, it was on my desk when I returned from a call,” I answered, looking wide-eyed around the vast room.
“Then it would seem that someone believed you were in need of our services,” she said, pondering this, nodding to herself.
We had reached the stairs and I turned to her. “That’s just it. I don’t understand why I’m here, or what services it is that you provide.”
“You will soon enough,” she said, smiling at me once again. “I will leave you in Martina’s capable hands. It really was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Stephenson.” With that, she turned and struck off toward the way we’d come.
I looked around me, but could see no one else. “Martina who?” I said loudly, shrugging my arms.
The little woman turned around and pointed over my head at something just behind me. I turned and looked up the staircase in front of me. There, standing at the top of the staircase was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her amber dress hugged her body tightly, glittering slightly as she moved. Silken ginger hair flowed down and over one shoulder, splaying out just above her breast. The mounds of her breasts swelled outwards, furrowing the fabric of her dress straining to contain them. One of her silky smooth legs protruded from a long slit in the dress. “Hello, Mr. Stephenson,” she said with smile.
This time hearing my name, from a stranger so ravishingly beautiful, didn’t phase me at all. I stood there for a moment with what must’ve been a stupefied look on my face. Finally, I blinked, and smiled. “Um, hello,” I replied. I could feel a stirring in my loins just looking at her. It was difficult to talk coherently, so I didn’t try.
She began walking down the stairs slowly, her creamy thighs emerging from the dress with each step, her breasts slightly bouncing with each footfall. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”
I was speechless. She was so sexy, so seductive. Each step she took brought her closer to me and the closer she came the more beautiful she appeared. I watched her walk the same way a scientist might study a slide under a microscope: I didn’t want to miss a thing.
When my briefcase fell to the floor, it jarred me awake. I looked at her, more intently now, and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Stephenson.”
There was my name again. This time I asked, “How do you know me?”
Her smile broadened. “Someone told us you’d be stopping by.”
“Who?” I asked just as she reached the bottom step.
“Sssh,” she said. She reached out and silenced me with a finger pressed to my lips. The whole situation was so surreal that I wasn’t certain that she was real until that moment. I immediately felt another stirring down below. “Come with me,” she said, holding out a crooked elbow.
Dumbfounded, I seemed to be rooted in place. After a moment of staring at her arm, I grasped her elbow with my hand. She clasped her hand on mine and pulled me closer until we were side by side. Together we began to ascend the stairs.
We walked in silence for a while as I took in the sites. The place was enormous and there seemed to be doors everywhere. We had ascended to the third floor. I could see the large foyer several feet below us over the wrought iron and wood railing. Finally, I asked, “So, what is this place?”
She smiled. “It’s a place to find what you need, of course.”
“But, what is it I need?” I said.
She looked at me intently for a moment, studying me up and down. “You need a lot of things.” Her face then softened and then she smiled. “But tonight, we are going to fulfill your most basic needs.”
“And what is that?” I asked.
She turned and faced the door closest to us. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Golden light spilled onto the stone floor. “We’re here. Please come inside.”
Entranced by her beauty and intrigued by what was to come, I entered the room. An ornate desk with a mirror squatted against the far wall. Directly to my left was a queen-sized poster bed, semi-transparent cloth draped loosely around its frame. To the right sat a large armoire, beside which was another door set into the wall. The marble flooring continued into this room and expensive looking tapestries hung from the walls.
I felt a touch on my shoulder and I turned around. It was Martina, smiling. She ran her slender fingers through my hair then cradled my face. I thought she was going kiss me for a moment. Instead, she asked, “Would you care for a drink, Mr. Stephenson?”
“Karl,” I replied.
“Karl,” she said with a smile.
“Do you have any scotch?” I asked.
“Is Chivas Regal okay?” she asked. I’d never even heard of it before, so I just nodded in the affirmative. She ran her fingers across my cheeks. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.
She stepped away to the armoire and opened it. Instead of clothes, the armoire contained a selection of fine liquors, a bucket off ice, champagne, wine, and a small collection of tumblers, wine glasses, and other glassware. She selected a bottle of golden liquid from the shelf, retrieved a tumbler, tossed in a couple of ice cubes, and poured a quantity into the glass. I noticed the liquid in the glass nearly matched the color of the dress she was wearing. She repeated the process with a second glass.
Handing one glass to me, she stirred the other with one of her fingers. She deliberately, making sure I was watching, lifted her finger from glass and gently sucked the liquid from it. As she did so, she seemed to peer into my soul with her brown eyes. The smile returned to her face and she walked over to the bed, brushing back one of the curtains. She sat and crossed her legs, supporting herself by grasping a post. For the first time I could marvel at her creamy thighs without having to conceal my attraction. “You have questions. I will answer what I can,” she said, smiling.
“What do you do here?” I asked, walking around the room looking everything over.
“I give you what you need,” she replied, cryptically.
“And what does that entail, exactly, giving me what I need?” I asked, looking at her. She seemed to contemplate this for a moment.
“Every client is different,” she said after a brief pause. “For you, you need many things. Tonight, I plan on giving you the four basic things that you need the most.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, exasperated. “Are you talking about the four food groups, the four elements… what?” Suddenly it all seemed to make sense: the way she was dressed, the expensive drinks. I looked at her sternly. “Is this some sort of bordello… a whorehouse?”
“It can be. Sex is certainly one of the most basic needs,” she said with a smile.
“Is that what I ‘need’?” I asked, drawing air quotes with my upraised hands, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
She tilted her head to one side, her luscious hair spilling off her shoulder. “In a way but it’s more than that.”
“And if I decide to walk out of here? If this isn’t for me?”
She smiled. “Then you won’t find what you need.” She stood slowly, the dress clinging to her skin. She crossed the room and pressed her body against mine. I could feel her warm breasts pressing against my moist shirt. “But you won’t,” she said, running the back of her hand down the side of my face.
I let out a breath as I felt my cock swell. She leaned in and kissed me with her sultry lips. They were sweet and felt silky and soft. I let both my briefcase and duster fall to the floor as I wrapped my arms around her. I felt her wrap hers around me and pulled me closer. We kissed passionately for a few seconds before she stepped back, my arms instinctively letting her go.
“Will you stay?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I didn’t hesitate for a moment: “Yes.”
“Good,” she said with a smile. She walked across the expansive room, her high heels clicking on the stonework. “We have three rules,” she said, turning back to me. “One, relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Relax. I could do that. “Sure,” I said. “What else?”
“Two, keep an open mind. I’m going to take away some of your basic necessities. In order to do that things might get uncomfortable. If you become too uncomfortable, tell me, but do try to keep an open mind. Everyone has his or her own limits. We’re going to explore yours.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. Taking away basic necessities? What did that mean? Still, I was intrigued, thinking more with my penis than with my head. “I’m not sure what you mean, exactly, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “Lastly, we finish what we start. Just because you become uncomfortable doesn’t mean we stop, we just take it a bit slower. Does that sound fair to you?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I guess it depends on what we’re doing that makes me uncomfortable,” I said.
“You must agree to all three before we begin,” she said.
I thought it over for a minute, pacing the room, sipping at my drink. Whether it was the thought of being with a beautiful woman or the alcohol beginning to loosen me up, I finally agreed. “Yes, I agree to all three,” I said, turning back to her.
“Good!” she said. She placed her drink on a hardwood and wrought iron night table and walked across the room to the desk, running her hand across my chin as she passed. “Why don’t you get a bit more comfortable, Karl?” she said as she began rummaging through the desk.
I looked down at myself. My clothes were still damp from the rain. I loosened the knot of my tie and slid it out from under my collar. I unbuttoned the top button of my dress shirt. Instantly, I felt relief. I kneeled and untied my left shoe, then the right. I slipped both of them off and placed them next to the armoire, out of the way. I then loosened my belt and slipped it out from around my waist. I sat my duster on top of my shoes. I then placed the briefcase on top, followed by my belt.
Quickly, I slipped out of my wet socks and, unsure where to put them, placed them on top of the armoire, draped over the side. I loosened my Boliva watch and slid it from my wrist, noting the time. It was late, already after 10 PM. I tossed it on top of the pile on the floor.
I turned to find Martina had returned to the side of the bed. She had pulled back several of the layers of material, allowing easier access to the bed. She gestured to me to join her. I strode over to where she stood, the marble floor feeling odd under my bare feet.
“Why don’t you lie down, Karl?” she said, rubbing my shoulder with her hand. I took her advice and lay down on the bed. It felt fantastic. The bedding on top was soft, pliable, and silky to the touch. Its dark blue surface shimmered with light as my body made ripples across its surface. I lay my head on the pillow. It was incredibly soft and my head sank into it easily.
“Are you relaxed, Karl?” she asked, leaning down over me, her form a silhouette against the bright light behind her.
“Yes,” I said with a smile of my own.
“Good, then we can begin,” she said and stood upright. She disappeared around the corner of the bed and returned a moment later holding four leather cuffs.
I raised my eyebrows. “What are those for?” I asked, slightly alarmed.
Her smile reassured me. “These cuffs will help us discover the first thing you need. You need freedom, to do what you wish. You are currently working at a job where you feel trapped, lonely, and unable to move. These cuffs…” she said, holding the cuffs out to me “… are a representation of your frustration.”
She leaned over me and kissed me on the forehead. “The first thing you need is freedom. I am going to help you achieve freedom, but you have to trust me.” She stood up. “Do you trust me?”
I looked from her to the cuffs in her hands. Did I trust her? I didn’t know her. Damn, she was beautiful though. And she promised me she wouldn’t hurt me. But who was she to make that promise? And why was I here? I sensed that I was going to find something out about myself, but I wasn’t sure what that was. At last, I made up my mind. “Yes,” I said.
She placed the cuffs on the bed next to me and then proceeded to crawl onto the bed. Then she straddled me. I felt somewhat embarrassed, knowing that she could probably feel my swollen member through whatever she was wearing underneath. “I am going to take away your freedom for tonight. You will not be able to move. You will not be able to do anything. You will not be able to touch me.”
I nodded dumbly as she picked up one of my hands from the bed and raised it up over my head. For the first time I noticed a small d-ring embedded in the side of the bedpost. She clasped one of the cuffs around my wrist and tightened it. It was soft on the inside and wasn’t uncomfortable. She opened the carabiner clasp attached to the cuff and slipped it over the ring. Letting go the ring held the cuff fast. I tried to pull my hand free, but it wouldn’t budge. She smiled and then fastened my other hand in the same fashion.
My arms now stretched across the bed, she crawled off the other side and moved to my feet. She clasped the remaining cuffs to my ankles. Struggling to raise my head, I couldn’t see any rings sunk into the bedposts near my feet. In answer to this, she produced two short lengths of small chain. She fed one of these through the clasp on a cuff and then through something I couldn’t see at the foot of the bed. As she pulled the chain tighter, I could feel my leg being pulled toward the side of the bed. She then did the same with my other foot.
I was now spread eagle on the bed. She crawled back onto the bed and lay down on top of me. She clasped my head in her hands and kissed me passionately. I could feel her hot lips pressing firmly against my own. I felt a swell down below and another surge of red-hot embarrassment heat my face.
She sat up and looked down at me, smiling sweetly. Then, she slowly crawled off the side of the bed and disappeared from view. I heard her rustling through the desk once more, before returning. She was holding a pair of long scissors in one hand. “Trust me?” she asked.
Now the beautiful stranger, whom I knew nothing about, was holding a weapon and asking me to trust her. Considering I couldn’t move, it didn’t matter if I trusted her or not. Thus far, she’d not given me any cause for alarm, so I went with the flow. “Sure,” I said.
She slowly, carefully, slipped the open scissors into the open cuff of my pants. She closed the blades with an audible “thwack!”
“Hey!” I said, not believing she had just cut a slit into the leg of my tailored pants. “Those are expensive!” She shushed me and returned to cutting the material, slowly working her way up to my crotch. I decided at this point that it was best not to antagonize someone wielding a sharp object. At my crotch she slowed considerably before cutting more swiftly down the opposite leg. Once finished, she grasped the material with her free hand tugged at it until it came free and flowed out underneath me, exposing my bare legs.
She then inserted the scissors into the cuff of my sleeve and sliced one arm of the shirt open and then the other. With another light teasing, she whisked the shirt out from under me. Lying there in nothing more than my boxers, with a voluptuous woman standing over me, did nothing to diminish my excitement and I felt my cock straining against the fabric.
After a moment she said, “Then second thing you need is release. As I said, sex is one of the most basic needs, and rarely do we find someone that truly does not need it. You, on the other hand, need it more than most.”
“I have sex,” I said, in my own defense.
“Perhaps, but you don’t have sex freely. It feels as if it is something that you must do, to give your partner something. You have been seeing the same woman for three years. You feel trapped by it, as if it’s expected of you. Here, you can give yourself freely without feeling that I need anything in return.” She reached forward again, brandishing the scissors and snipped at my boxers. In four quick clips, they were whisked away, exposing my manhood.
She quickly walked back to the desk. I heard her place the scissors on the desk and then she returned to the side of the bed. “I want you to relax,” she said.
“I’m relaxed,” I assured her.
“Not yet, you aren’t, but soon you will be,” she said with a smile. With that she kneeled beside the bed. She reached down and picked up a small vial of amber colored liquid, almost the same color as her dress. That was an odd coincidence. She flipped open the top of the vial and held it over the tip of my penis. A small golden drop fell from the vial onto my skin. I could feel the cold liquid for a moment, but was quickly replaced by warmth. Three more drops fell in quick succession. She snapped the lid closed and placed it on the floor.
I gasped as she reached out and cradled my cock in her hands. She slowly massaged the amber liquid across the length of my shaft, ensuring every inch was covered. I could feel the heat building all along the length of it, her slow ministrations hardening me further. I tugged at my restraints, the sensations overwhelming.
I struggled to lift my head so that I could watch what she was doing. She turned and smiled at me. Her hands were both covered with the lubricant, glistening in the light of the room. She had clasped them together, my cock in between, slowly running them along the length, back and forth. It felt amazing.
Relaxing, I let me head sink back into the pillow. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sensations. I could feel her tight grip around my shaft as she slowly slid her warm hands up and down, occasionally stopping at the head to give it a little extra attention. When she would do this, I would pull hard at my restraints. The sensation was a mixture of intense pleasure and a bit off discomfort. I wanted it to stop, but didn’t want it to stop at the same time. She must have noticed my discomfort and did this less frequently.
After only a few minutes of her handling my cock, I felt myself edging closer. I began nudging my hips gently into the air. She began to pump my cock with one tightly closed fist, very slowly. My thrusts began to the speed of her strokes and soon we were in sync with one another. My breaths were coming quickly; I knew I would come soon. And that’s when she stopped.
When it was apparent she wasn’t going to resume, I opened my eyes to see she had left the side of the bed. With some effort I managed to lift my head. I could see her standing in front of the desk, looking for something in one of the drawers. She found whatever it was she was looking for and walked back to the side of the bed. This time she didn’t kneel, but bent over my exposed sex.
In one hand she held a latex ring. She stooped and grasped the head of my penis with her long, slender fingers and with the other she pushed the ring down over my shaft. It was a tight fit, but after a little prodding and pulling, she had moved it to the bottom my shaft.
She kneeled once again, picking up the lubrication from the floor. Reapplying a small amount, she began massaging my cock more slowly than before. Occasionally her hand would slip past the cock ring and she would massage my balls, spreading the warm lube everywhere it mattered.
The cock ring seemed to enhance the sensations I was feeling, rather than diminish them, as I’d assumed. Every stroke of her hand was like heaven. It took but just a minute for my thrusting to continue. She kept going, regardless, slowly teasing my shaft with her caressing hands.
Exhaling hard, I let a moan escape my lips. I hadn’t felt pleasure like this in years. Every movement she made pushed me closer to the edge. My thrusts were harder and faster than before. She sped her strokes to match my speed. I could feel myself getting closer.
Just before I popped, she changed up the routine. She let me hard cock fall to my abdomen with a wet smack. I could feel it throbbing with every beat of my heart; no, I take that back, it was almost thrumming with excitement. With one hand she cupped my balls. She then took the heel of her hand and pressed it firmly against the base of my shaft, just above the cock ring. She then slowly slid it along the length of my sex. It felt amazing, but at the same time it allowed me to cool off a little.
She continued doing this for a while, switching hands every so often. I was so turned on it was ridiculous. I felt like I was going to explode with every long stroke. My body would tense every time she would reach the tip of my penis. “Does it feel good?” she asked after a while.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, smiling.
“Good. It’s what you need. Prolonged pleasure. It’s much more than just sex,” she said in a whisper.
She continued for a moment then stopped and stood. Grasping the fabric of her dress near her hips, she slowly lifted it up and over her head, allowing it to fall gently to the floor. From my vantage point I could see everything from her head down to her waist. She was amazing. Her abs were tight. A straw-colored brassiere was supporting her large breasts, which seemed ready to jumble out at the smallest provocation. A similarly colored tangas encircled her waist. I could have come just from looking at her.
She kneeled down beside me again and began her ministrations once more. I grunted as she began, having been teased to the brink. My body slid along the top of the bed, trying to give her every millimeter of my cock as I thrust my hips forward. I closed my eyes, enjoying the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.
“I have a feeling you’re about to come,” she said, not slowing for a bit.
“Uh, huh,” I managed to grunt.
“Good,” she said.
She continued stroking me with one hand while she toyed with my scrotum with the other. I could feel the telltale sustained tickle spread out from my engorged sex. I was in absolute ecstasy. This probably only lasted a couple of minutes, but it seemed to last an eternity. I grasped the bedposts as I tensed, ready to come, but then, suddenly, she stopped.
It took me a moment to recover this time. By the time I opened my eyes, she’d already stood and moved around to the foot of the bed. She crawled across the bed on all fours until she had reached my throbbing member, whereupon she sat down. She reached up to the center of her brassiere and unfastened the clasp. Her breasts spilled out as the material shot backwards around her. She shrugged out of it and tossed it to the floor.
She lay down on the bed next to me, pressing her firm body against my own. She reached out and grasped my cock with her right hand as she wrapped her other around my shoulders. As she pumped my shaft, she began littering my chest with soft kisses.
Each stroke brought me closer to the edge. My hips surged forward each time she’d reach the base of my throbbing shaft. Between kisses she would nibble at my erect nipple and prod it with her tongue. At first it did nothing for me, but each time she would bite down gently it would add to the overwhelming sensations beginning to swirl around me.
She kissed her way up to my shoulder and began kissing my neck. She slowed her pumps and timed them with her kisses, each one long, slow and soft. I could smell the light scent of her perfume and it only served to arouse me further. Her breasts were now pressed tightly against my hot skin, her nipples hard.
The pleasure was so intense that I could barely breathe. She had now taken to licking the rim of my ear, sending tickling ripples of pleasure down my neck and spine. Her strokes were still slow and deliberate, each one sending a wave of untold bliss through me. I turned my head and looked into her eyes and she smiled.
She leaned forward and kissed me passionately with her silken lips, caressing my chin with her free hand. I was thrusting my hips forward forcefully now. I felt her perfect skin pressed against mine as I gave her everything I had. I was so close to coming. Just as I was nearing the point of no return, she stopped.
It took a moment to get myself back under control. I was so close. She kissed me once more, quickly this time, and sat up. She rolled over onto her back and hooked the band of her panties with her thumbs. She quickly slid these off and deposited them onto the floor beside the bed. Just as quickly she straddled my throbbing cock, pinning it between her pussy lips and my abdomen.
I could feel the blazing heat of her sex pressed against mine. She leaned forward; her perfect breasts so close now, a tantalizing offering. Placing one hand on either side of me, she slid her herself along the length of my cock, arching her back, thrusting her hips forward. I gasped, so close now.
She leaned down further, pressing her pale breasts against me, and kissed my gingerly on the lips, her hair spilling around her head. She sat back up and slid forward again, slowly. I tensed, my aching cock ready to burst. She paused again, letting the tension subside for a moment. I was aching for release, but everything she did kept me in a state of constant euphoria. I didn’t want it to end.
Grasping me gently on either side of my chest with her ivory fingers, she thrust herself forward smoothly again. I arched my back, feeling that I was about to come. Amazingly, the feeling subsided into a low, tickling throb after a few seconds. I was in a state of constant pure ecstasy.
She leaned forward, pressing her soft mounds against me tightly. Her lips met mine and I could taste her sweet breath. Leaning back she looked into my eyes and smiled, running her hand through my short, black hair. “Are you ready to come?” she asked.
I could hardly think, but I managed to answer her in the affirmative. She leaned back, whipping her hair back behind her with a flick of her head. Once more she grasped me on either side of my chest. She glided forward, pressing down harder than before. It was bliss, I could barely breathe. She slid forward again, the urge to come growing almost unbearable.
Martina thrust her wet pussy forward a third time, slowly stroking my straining erection. This time I felt the tickle suddenly grow in intensity and my whole body stiffened. I let out a harsh groan of satisfaction as I came. I could feel my molten come shooting across my abdomen, twice reaching as far as my chest. I fell back, exhausted, breathing hard, my body comfortably numb.
After my moment of bliss had passed, I opened my eyes. She was still straddling my cock, pinning it to my abdomen. I could feel it throbbing in time with my heartbeat. The cock ring was working its magic, as I was still rock hard. I looked up at her and saw that she was smiling at me.
“That was amazing,” I said, smiling myself.
“It was what you needed,” she said. She nimbly dismounted and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said, rubbing my chest. Standing, she crossed the room. Just watching her walk was amazing; she was incredibly beautiful, curvaceous, her long, red hair flowing down her back, hips swinging side to side.
She entered the door next to the armoire. I could hear the sound of running water. Moments later she returned holding some towels. She wiped me clean with the first one. It was intensely hot and stung my skin for a moment. Once done, she wiped my down again with a second wet towel. Finally, she dried me with a third, soft towel.
Bending over she teased and prodded the cock ring until it slowly slid up the length of my shaft. I could immediately feel the surge of heat down there as my blood flow was restored. And almost just as immediately, I felt my erection diminish. It was a bit disappointing; I thought we would have gone longer.
She picked up the towels and the cock ring and took them all back to what I assumed was a bathroom. She returned a moment later. “We have now explored the first two things that you need: freedom and sexual release. Now we will explore the third thing that you need,” she said, smiling, her breasts hovering mere inches from my face.
“What is that?” I asked; glad to hear things were going to continue.
“Air,” she said, still smiling.
I wasn’t quite sure I understood what she meant. I furled my brow and asked, “Air?”
“Yes, it is a basic necessity, yet you waste it. Trapped, suffocating inside an oppressive office. You never enjoy the times you are free of it, able to breath air freely, without the weight of business.”
I was still confused, “I’m not sure I’m following you.” I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going.
“For me to give you what you need, I first have to take it away,” she said, this time smiling.
Thoughts of her smothering my to death with her enormous breasts passed through my mind. Not a bad way to go, all things considered, but I was still nervous about where she was headed with this line of thought. “So, you’re going to take away my air?”
“Yes,” she said, standing upright, her full, soft breasts bobbing back against her chest, her hair falling in front of her shoulders, across her breasts.
“I don’t think I’m comfortable with that,” I said.
“Remember rule number two, Karl. Keep an open mind. Remember, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not here to punish you. I’m here to give you what you need. It may seem uncomfortable, or strange, but it won’t hurt you.” She smiled a reassuring smile.
“Okay, but if I get too uncomfortable, we stop, okay?” I said sternly.
“Sure, Karl, we can stop. But you must remember rule number three. We finish what we start. If we stop, we must resume it at some point.”
I mulled this over for a minute or so. My trepidation must’ve shone through in my voice as I heard myself quaver and crack the words, “Okay, let’s do it.” She smiled, leaned down and kissed me lightly, as a feather might, then more forcefully. Her tongue slipped from between her lips and found mine.
Finally, she straightened and walked back over to the ornate desk and retrieved something from one of the drawers. Holding it in one hand, she made her way back over to the side of the bed. “This will be a symbol of your inability to breath, both figuratively and literally. It will make you appreciate what you have.”
She held out the object, but I still couldn’t tell what it was. Moving forward, she slipped the object over the top of my head and pulled it snug around my neck. It was transparent, apparently made of latex. I sucked in a breath and felt it snug around my face. I exhaled and felt my own hot breath. Inhaling again it collapsed across my face again. When I exhaled, I finally panicked, rocking my head to and fro, trying to, unsuccessfully, dislodge whatever she’d placed over it.
“Relax,” she said, smiling at me, her head on the top of my head.
“How the hell am I supposed to relax,” I said, breathing heavily. “I can’t breathe!”
“It’s okay. You can breathe,” she replied, still smiling. She reached out and pinched the front of the mask, for that was what it most resembled, with her index finger and thumb and pulled it away from my face. “There are small holes in front. You can breathe.”
“No, I can’t!” I said loudly.
“Yes, you can,” she said, reassuringly. “Just relax and breathe.”
“No! Take it off!” I said, almost in a blind panic. For the first time, she did not smile, but she reached down and whisked the thing from my face.
“Just give me a minute,” I said. I realized what she’d said was true. I could have breathed. “I just wasn’t prepared. I thought you had taken my air away completely.”
“It’s okay, take your time,” she said.
After a few minutes, I had calmed and was ready to try whatever it was she had in mind. “Okay, I’m ready.”
She smiled and slowly fitted the hood over the top of my head once again, making sure it was snug against the skin of my neck. I took a deep breath and felt the latex collapse onto my face, but I could still feel cool, fresh air entering through the small holes. I exhaled, feeling my warm, wet breath fill the space. I inhaled again, my hot exhaust intermingling with the fresh air. Exhaling, the air under the hood was even hotter.