Posts Tagged ‘exotic’

Part One:



My name is Vincent and you may have heard some nasty rumors floating around about me. They are all a lie, okay most of them are lies… alright, truth be told most of them are spot on… okay, okay they are all true! There, feel better… screw you!



I blame my cock… it’s all its fault… that and the drugs… and all those damn slutty women! I can’t help it if they were my friend’s sisters, moms and cousins… my penis is possessed! It’s pure evil I tell you! Don’t believe me I’ll prove it!



Possession is 9/10th the law:



It was the summer of ’82 and I had just graduated from high school and it was deemed fit and proper that we do something really fucking stupid. Thus and therefore we sat in council, all proper gentlemen were we, and discussed the weighty matter of what we should all do for our last summer together before we were scattered to the four winds.



My mom’s basement was large and mainly unfinished and we were sitting on the concrete floor passing the sacred weed from man to man. An acrid smell filled the air and we were in the proper frame of mind to determine our fates.



“Dude, we should like totally road trip to Vegas,” offered one William of Patterson street.



“No man I say Miami, all the bitches are fine down there,” spoke the wise and honorable ‘Duke of Lafayette’ or known in other circles as John Rankin.



“I think we should head down to Jamaica,” I offered and continued to explain my thought, “you can get the best shit down there and we can bring some back and grow our own!”



There were murmurs of approval and other voices began to chime in when ‘she’ slunk down the stairs all ninja-like and we were in a word busted.



“You guys are so in trouble,” Heather hissed when she smelled the herb and saw us passing it around. “I am gonna tell mom and…”



“…want some?” I said offering her the joint.



“Dude that’s my sister,” William protested.



“Dude if she blabs we won’t have a summer vacation,” and my logic won out.



Heather walked upstairs and disappeared and we all moaned thinking we were busted but she returned a minute later with air freshener, candles and sat down next to me. Lo did she greedily toke the sacred weed and did in time get sagaciously stoned. So with air freshened and candles lit we did continue our discussion.



“I would so go to Jamaica,” Heather offered in her sweet voice, “Carol my next door neighbor got some shit from there and we got so fucked up…”



William looked at his sister twin and shook his head.



“You never told me you smoked,” William did grill her.



“I never told you a lot of things,” she countered.



The sibling rivalry was getting heated and was diminishing my buzz so I performed the time honored intervention.



“Dude… she’s YOUR sister… does anything she has done, spoken or otherwise, really surprise you?”



“Hmm… no I guess not…”



“Okay now before you slay my buzz completely let us take a vote,” I said raising my hand, “okay all in favor of Jamaica raise your hand.”



I looked around the circle and all hands were raised including Heather’s.



“Heather sweetie you can’t vote…” I whispered.



“Oh sorry,” she lowered her hand before leaning into me, “if you need help with the growing part when you guys get back I know a guy…”



“Heather!” William cried out and at that it was time for our group to disband the buzz was officially killed.



Everyone save Heather and me got up and left. William stood at the middle of the stairs waiting looking at Heather.



“Well,” he asked.



“Vincent and I are going to talk agriculture I’ll be home soon,” she said smiling.



“Okay…” and with a reluctant look back he climbed the stairs and we heard the door close behind him.



“So I was thinking some glow lights on timers…” I began but Heather put her finger on my lips.



“You know what happens to me when I get stoned?”



I shook my head and she smiled and continued.



“I get all wet and horny,” she purred and saying that she straddled me. “I hear it from the most reliable sources, namely one Sue Grant, that you are hung like a beast… is that true?”



“Um…” was all I could get out before she leaned down and kissed me.



I will tell you now this was no sisterly kiss of friendship but a gut wrenching, tongue dueling, cock hardening embrace of epic proportions! Heather’s long black hair tumbled down and like the curtain of night fell over my face and I saw nothing but I did feel her hands rubbing between my legs.



“Jackpot,” I heard her exclaim as she deftly unbuttoned my jeans and then unzipped them freeing my aching shlong. “Damn, she was right, you have a monster cock down there lover.”



At hearing ‘cock’ and ‘lover’ I knew my wet dreams had come true! I was going to fuck the very cute and very busty Lady Heather! I felt her dainty hands wrap around the shaft of my dick and moaned as she double stroked me.



“How does that feel baby,” Heather moaned in my ear, “I can’t wait to suck you off. Ever since I heard about you… this…,” she gave it a gentle squeeze, “I have masturbated dreaming of tasting it and feeling it inside of me.”



“Taste away…” I moaned as I reached up and cupped her firm tits through her shirt.



“Mmm you like my tits,” she said and leaned back and yanked the shirt off of her and her bra went flying moments later.



She took my hands and placed them on her naked flesh before returning to stroking my cock. I leaned up and kissed and suckled her tits and nipples. She growled in my ear how good that felt and I let my tongue flicker over her puffy nipples and I felt her grind her denim clad pussy against my thigh.



“Want to sneak up to your bedroom and fuck me up there,” sweet Heather asked.



“Yeah, got to be tons more comfortable than concrete, but you have to be quiet or we will get busted.”



“I promise…” she lied.



She stood up and grabbed her fallen shirt and bra and then she grabbed ‘me’ and led me upstairs. We didn’t need to worry about sneaking through the house it was empty, except us of course. But my mom would be home in an hour or so. As Heather with me in hand, literally, made our way to the second floor and my bedroom my mind momentarily slipped from the green fog and drug induced erection to ponder the morality of what I was about to do.



One… you are about to violate your best friend’s trust and sister.



Two… you are risking getting busted for smoking and fucking in the house, again.



Three… Heather is going to suck you then fuck you.



I actually hesitated for a single, long moment and Heather noticed. She turned and kissed me again with all the hunger and lust she could summon and it was a lot!



“I understand you are feeling weird about what is about to happen. I get that. But, I will share with you a secret no girl or woman would normally ever expose. So here it is in a nutshell. Nice guys do not repeat do not get laid. We like the bad boys and do all sorts of naughty things with those kinds of guys. Need I say more?”



I scooped her up into my arms and carried her, the rest of the way down the hallway to my bedroom and dropped her on the bed. I closed the door and walked over to the bed where she stopped me with a grin.



“Don’t move, stand right there,” she said as she got onto her knees and slowly peeled off her shirt revealing those gorgeous C Cup tits of hers.



The shirt dropped to the bed and she grabbed her tits and began to massage and tease them. I reached down and began to stroke myself and her eyes lit up and as she moaned then growled as she unbuttoned her jean shorts. She got onto her hands and knees and facing away from me began to slowly pull them down over her bubble butt. I saw her crack appear and then her puckered asshole and then at long last her wet slit.



“I need help getting them off,” she moaned/purred.



I walked over and tugged them the rest of the way off as she turned around and took me into her mouth while I stood at the edge of the bed.



“Oh god damn girl,” I moaned as I tore my own shirt off and reached down and played with her hair.



She moaned when I stroked her hair and that sent shockwaves through me. I grunted when she moaned and Heather took this as a good thing and kept on moaning as inch by inch my cock slid between her lips. Heather stopped at about half way and I couldn’t blame her. When my cock is soft it’s close to seven inches long. Fully erect as it was now it was a very prodigious thing indeed. I rocked my hips just a little and started fucking her mouth and she seemed to like this a lot as I saw her hand move up and between her legs getting her pussy ready for me.



“Are you ready to feel this inside of you,” I asked and she broke her ‘kiss’ and for answer spun around and scooted until her upraised ass was mere inches from me.



“Slide it in, slowly…” she begged.



“I know the drill,” I told her as the head parted her tight pussy lips.



“Unnn… that’s it nice and…” Heather moaned.



“…slow,” I finished for her as she buried her face in my covers.



I was about half way inside when I stopped and began to move my hips in and out of her. She was panting and moaning louder and louder.



“Oh god… deeper lover… deeper…” she begged.



I inched my way forward letting her take one, two and finally three more inches before her hand went up signaling me I had hit bottom. Again I began rocking gently and her incredibly tight pussy gripped me like a fist. I was moaning softly as we fucked, I say fucked because there was absolutely no love involved in this union. Okay maybe the love of an eager slutty girl, or the love of her talented lips licking and sucking me or even the deep love a man feels for a woman with a real tight pussy. But not the icky squishy love they show in the movies. I felt that wonderful tingling sensation start in my toes and began to thrust faster into her and she was pushing back now meeting me stroke for stroke.



“OH GOD…” she screamed, “FUCK ME LOVER! Drive that long… fat… cock into my tight little pussy!”



So much for being quiet; I told you she lied to me. I thrust harder and a bit deeper into her and felt her pussy clench around me tighter still and knew that she had just climaxed. That’s always good for a second date or in our case a second grudge fuck. My cock swelled up inside of her and she knew I was going to cum.



“SPRAY MY TITS AND FACE LOVER…” Heather begged/howled.



When I couldn’t fight it off any longer I yanked my dick from her pussy and she flipped over onto her back and I let go and I painted her body with pulses of hot cum.



“Oh shit…” Heather said looking passed me and there in all her terrible glory was my mom.



She was staring open mouthed at the scene before her and I shriveled to nothing in seconds flat.



“Ummm… hi mom this is…”



“Heather… get dressed and out of this house and never set foot here ever again or I swear your mother will hear all about this. I won’t tell her today because I know she has a weak heart and this would kill her dead.”



Ninja-quick Heather was dressed and leaving. She turned around and mouthed those immortal words, ‘call me.’ I hid the smile and did the walk of shame after I had put on my own clothes.



The kitchen table, it was the place where we gathered for meals, played board games and asses were severely chewed. My mom was sitting there pale and shaking in her rage. I sat without a word knowing she would launch into her tirade soon enough.



“How could you,” she snapped at me.



Three seconds I had counted from the time I sat to the first word. I could tell by that short wait that she was way beyond upset.



“She is William’s sister for Christ’s sake.”



Eep! She invoked her lord, god and savior; I was in serious shit now!



“I know you were gifted with a fine specimen of manhood, but that doesn’t give you the right young man to share it with the entire world.”



Blink… blink… was that a fucked up twisted sort of compliment? This was getting creepy weird like when my step sister got drunk and sleep fucked me before going off to college last month. Or the time the young nun came a calling to bake bread with my mom and caught me in the shower when she came upstairs to use the bathroom.



“I…” mom was having none of that.



“You… young man need to learn some self control and discipline.”



“Not the military…” I begged.



“No, heavens no… you need religion. I have been far too lax on that front since I married your father and didn’t feel it was my place to take a stand. But sweetie it’s been five years now and I feel I am ready to support you in this case, for your immortal soul.”



“The seminary,” I asked.



“No, that would be a decision between you and god. No I was thinking of Sister Mary Margaret having a nice long talk with you.”



“Not placing the name…” I said my face screwed up in puzzlement.



“You know that sweet pious thing that came over and helped me bake bread just before Easter.”



Ding! That cock hungry redhead who nearly deep throated me in the shower? Oh hell yes!



“I seem to remember her a little,” I said softly.



“I bet if I asked her she would meet with and discuss the bible in length. Show you the errors of you ways,” Mom beamed at me.



“Not a priest,” I asked full well knowing her thoughts on that subject.



“I will not let a child raping pedophile anywhere near you Vincent! I mean you are a ‘fully grown’ young man but still.”



“I appreciate your concern… if you think it’ll help I will give it my all!”



“That’s the spirit! There’s hope for your immortal soul yet.”



A week later, there was Sister Mary Margaret in all her nakedness bent over the altar of her dead and risen god begging for my cock.



“Please Vincent don’t make me beg for it,” She said smiling. “Is that is you want me to beg? Okay. Please lover… darling fuck my tight little pussy! Please ram that fat cock of yours into me!”



The acoustics in this place were phenomenal and I am sure if there was anyone else in the church they could have heard her from the very back row. I walked up and aimed the head of my cock between her glistening pussy lips and pushed.



“YES… oh Lord Vincent your cock feels so good!”



“Push back you dirty slut,” I told her fully embracing my soul burning bad boy persona.



“Yes baby… watch me fuck you with my pussy!”



Sister Mary Margaret thrust her tight wet pussy backwards and nearly impaled herself again and again. The few women I had been with had never been able to take as much of my dick into either mouth or pussy as this talented young woman.



“It’s going in so deep,” I moaned.



“My pussy adores your cock lover!”



“So does your mouth and throat…”



“…Mmm yes they do. You know what else adores your hard flesh?”



“I have no idea but I bet you are going to tell me.”



“NO…” she purred loudly, “…I am going to show you!”



“Lucky me… mom said you were going to take my education in hand…”



“…hand and mouth and pussy and…”



“And..?”



“Pull out and go over and sit on those stairs right there,” she said pointing to the pulpit, the place where the priest preaches from.



I did as I was told and slowly pulled out of her pussy and went and sat down.



“I was so thrilled to hear you were going to visit me I prepared a little something special.”



“Special…” I asked.



“Not a lot of women would suggest this and many don’t enjoy it as much as I do so…”



She walked over to me with her long legs, shaved pussy and evil smile. Sister Mary Margaret turned around and grabbed my cock and bent over and eased backwards guiding the head of my dick to her tight puckered ass. With practiced ease and I suspect some prior fingering I slipped in with little pain to her and a lot of pleasure for me.



“Oh my god that’s fucking tight,” I moaned.



“Yes, yes it is,” she growled. “I am going to start but when you are ready stand up and finish me off… its okay to cum in my ass they all do.”



She let half my length into her butt before she started rocking her hips and letting me feel how deliciously naughty it felt.



“Oh I don’t know how long I can last…” I warned her.



“Don’t fret I already cum twice already…” she moaned as another two inches slid into her, “…this is for you lover so enjoy it.”



I felt like I was going to blow my load any minute so I stood up slowly and grabbed her hips. I tested the waters and pushed my hips forward to see how much of me should could accommodate and when her hand finally came up all but a few inches were inside of her.



“Damn Sister, your tight little ass just swallowed up most of my cock!”



Then I began to move slowly not wanting to hurt her and not wanting this to end too soon. I savored every moment of this and let her know.



“Nnnn so fucking tight,” I moaned.



“You feel so good in my ass lover…” she purred, “…I can’t wait to feel you cum deep inside of me.”



“Not long now…” I growled as she felt me swell inside of her.



“Oh god you are stretching me… so fucking big…” Sister Mary Margaret said as she began squeezing me with her ass. “…fill me up I need it so bad!”



It didn’t take much of that to push me over the edge and thrusting harder now I pulled back and with one last shove of my hips I painted her insides. My knees almost buckled I came so hard. My cock twitched inside of her as the last of my orgasm shook me.



“Mmm I want to do that again sometime,” I said out loud thinking how wonderful it felt.



“Sure lover, how about next week,” she offered. “I told your mother that if things worked out I would tutor you at least once a week.”



“I don’t know what to say?”



“Say that you’ll change into this… for little ‘ol me,” she said holding up the garb of a local priest.



“Isn’t someone going to miss that?”



“Nah… he thinks it’s still at the dry cleaners.”



“You are…”



“You’re not jealous are you?”



“Not at all just a little amazed,” I said.



“Oh its okay he hasn’t taken his final vows yet…”



“You are so going to hell…”



“Eh… I only joined the convent to get cock…”



“What?”



“That and travel,” she said as she began to dress me in the black attire of a priest, “Since I was young I always thought priests were sexy. Come on admit it, defiling a nun is like number two on a guy’s wish list.”



“What’s number one,” I asked as she began to dress herself leaving panties and bra on the floor, “everyone knows that busty Asian twins are number one.”



“Hmm… never having fucked Japanese twins before… I don’t know; defiling a gorgeous nun like you is my number one.”



“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said picking up the clothing that was left on or around the altar. “Now follow me to the confessional… I have some things to be forgiven for.”



“I’m not really a priest… I can’t forgive your sins…”



“…who said anything about forgiving them I have some more to commit.”



“Oh, well that explains a lot…”



One month later thanks to my stellar review from Sister Mary Fucksalot my friends and I were landing in the island nation of Jamaica. William was blissfully unaware of my devirginizing of his sweet twin sister. She didn’t tell me until a few weeks later when she showed up at church for confession and told me all while on her hands and knees before me. The priest’s outfit still hangs in my closet to this day. The plane jerked a bit as the landing gear touched down and that shook me out of my pleasant reverie. We had two weeks in paradise and little did I know that my doom would be sealed on board a luxury yacht.



We decided to get a better look at the beach and on our way we met a charming man with dreadlocks named Paul. His devilish good looks and outstanding fashion sense were nothing compared to the wickedly good shit he was smoking. Being a good and decent fellow he shared some, for a price. The beach was populated by beautiful people and off in the ocean was anchored two large yachts that gleamed in the noon day sun. We were walking passed a line of reclined sun bathers when a voice called out to us.

“Excuse me young man, can you help me?” Her voice was cultured and oozed sensuality.



I turned and saw an olive skinned beauty looking up at me. I pointed to myself and she nodded so I walked over and squatted next to her.



“How can I be of assistance?”



“How polite and cute,” she said biting her lower lip. “Would you consider it bold of me to ask you to rub some sun tan lotion on me?”



“Would it be bold to tell you how beautiful you are and how lucky I would be to roam my hands over your body?”



“No,” she purred, “Here’s the lotion.” She said lifting up revealing her bare breasts with their hard pointy nipples.



I took the lotion and drizzled some on hands and applied some to her upper back. Immediately she let out a low moan/growl. I rubbed it in and slowly made my way downward towards her ass. When I reached her lower back I muttered low enough for her to hear.



“Mmm pity you have those bottoms on I would love feel your ass in my strong young hands.”



“You are a very naughty boy,” she purred, “take them off… slowly.”



I gripped the first side of her bikini bottom and as she asked so nicely I pulled the string slowly watching as the bow got smaller and smaller and then… poof it was now two pieces of string. I leaned over her my hand resting on her thigh and felt her leg quiver as I untied the other side.



“I think I came…” I heard her whisper.



“…and you called me naughty.” I said.



I gently pulled the material away from her ass and smiled.



“Damn, you have the finest ass I have ever laid eyes on,” I told her.



“Prove it, apply some of that lotion,” she purred/moaned.



I drizzled some lotion onto my hands and began to knead her cheeks and she was squirming beneath me. I could see that her pussy was absolutely soaked.



“You my dear are practically dripping with need,” I said as I continued to rub the suntan lotion in.



“I blame you,” she moaned.



“I could help you with that but…” I said softly, “I don’t believe they allow love play…”



“You mean fucking… they don’t allow fucking on the beach! That’s true maybe we should adjourn to more private quarters.”



“What did you have in mind?”



“Just this, I am going to stand up and you follow me to my boat and you can bend me over and fuck me rotten. Afterwards I will let you shoot your cum down my throat… so what do you say?”



“I say… lead the way.”



So there I was walking down the beach following this hot older gal and my friends were looking at me with a mixture of confusion and envy. I shrugged and walked along the beach to a pier and there a motorboat took her and I to one of the yachts anchored in the bay. Her ‘boat’ was the second largest of the luxury ships in port and as I tossed the mooring line an attractive young girl caught the line and tied us off.



“Welcome back Madame,” she girl said smiling and offering her a terry cloth robe.



“Thank you Celine fetch us some wine, glasses and a snack,” my hostess said walking towards the front of the boat.



The woman sat in a comfy looking deck chair and pointed to the one next to her.



“We have not been properly introduced, I am Madelyn Anetakis and you are,” she asked.



“Vincent, Vincent Majors.”



“May I call you Vin?”



“Sure,” I said taking out the plastic bag with my herbal distraction in it, “you mind?”



“Only if you don’t share…” Madelyn said with a smile.



In no time at all the cigarette was measured, rolled, lighted and shared. The cute brunette had returned with wine and food but this was ignored as the three of us partook of the smoke. I learned that Celine was born here in Jamaica but her mother was from a commune near Paris France called Saint Maur des Fosses. After we were nice and toasty Madelyn nodded to Celine who pulled me to my feet and began to undress me while the older gal watched. Celine tugged my shirt off and kissed and suckled my nipples. I quivered a bit because no one had ever done that to me before. Then with a dramatic tug my swim trunks hit the deck and both women gasped.



“Mon Dieu what a monster,” Celine whispered, “This will prove a challenge even for my unusual talent.”



“What is that,” I asked as she dropped to her knees to get to know my cock better.



“Up until recently I was a very accomplished,” Celine moaned as her tiny hand wrapped around my quickly hardening dick, “…sword swallower.”



“Damn, this I gotta see,” I moaned as her lips and tongue began to pleasure me.



“Me too,” moaned Madelyn who had two fingers stuck in her pussy.



“Are you getting that tight pussy of yours ready for a pounding,” I asked watching Madelyn masturbate.



“Oh baby you know I am… that beast of yours is going to touch me places I have never felt before.”



“Mmm I love anal…” I began to say and Madelyn smiled wickedly.



“Well, well I suppose you can fuck me there too…”



“She meant her pussy monsieur…” Celine explained with her sexy Jamaican accent.



Celine shakily got to her feet and undid her top revealing her small but cute tits and then untied her bikini bottom and let them drop to reveal a neatly trimmed pussy and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. She slid a few fingers into her sex as she got into the proper position to deep throat my cock which was at full staff. With a few cautious moves she found the correct attack angle and inch by inch my cock slid into her mouth and then her throat until her lips brushed against the base.



“Oh god damn girl… no one has ever done that!”



“I believe you Vin… I believe you…” Madelyn moaned.



Celine began moving up and down on my cock and I stood there in lust and if I were rich as hell would have proposed on the spot.



“Mmm that feels fucking amazing…” I growled.



“Wait until I wrap my pussy around you lover…” Madelyn purred in my ear as she moved to stand behind me; her tits pressed against my back and her lips on my neck. “…I will milk your cock with my pussy muscles.”



“I can hardly wait…” I groaned, “…Mmm Celine if you keep that up, I am going to blow down your throat.”



“Go ahead Celine darling you have earned it I am sure we can get him hard again in no time he is so young and virile.”



Celine’s head moved up and down my length licking and sucking and driving me headlong into a mind blowing orgasm and I just let it happen. Madelyn’s hands roamed over my body as her lips teased my neck and ears and she whispered all the dirty things she wanted to do to me.



“Move so I can taste those fine tits of yours,” I said to Madelyn and she eagerly stepped around to my front and cupped her breasts offering them to me.



I leaned down and licked and suckled her large breasts loving the sounds she was making as I did so. I let my tongue flicker over her dark sensitive areoles and watched Madelyn’s eyes roll up in her head. All the while I felt my toes start to curl and warned Celine I was getting real close to shooting down her throat she never slowed down.



“Eager cocksucker you have there,” I told Madelyn as she knelt to watch Celine up close as she gobbled up cum.



“Can you blame her,” Madelyn moaned.



“I am so fucking close,” I hissed and Celine pulled her head back and made a tight seal with her lips around the head of my cock and she and Madelyn stroked the shaft furiously.



The feel of both their hands on me was too much and with a roar I sent a torrent of cum down the sword swallower’s throat. I was panting and a little weak in the knees but eager to feel Madelyn’s tight pussy wrapped around me.



“Still want me to bend you over Madelyn,” I asked.



“Most definitely I trust you will not pierce me too deep lover,” she moaned and stood up and walked over the side of the ship and assumed the position.



I followed her and pondered licking her pussy first but figured there was time enough for that later. I placed the head of my cock between her pussy lips and pushed slowly Madelyn began to moan as I filled her up little by little. I stopped when half of my dick was in her but she wiggled her ass begging for more so I pushed my hips forward until with a squeak of surprise she waved for me to stop. When I looked down most of my cock was buried in her pussy.



“Wow… you have most of me in you… how does it feel,” I asked her.



“Mmm no one has ever made me feel so complete before… fuck me lover nice and slow for now.”



I pulled back a bit and then started driving my dick in and out of her setting up a nice leisurely rhythm.



“How’s that,” I asked and felt her pussy muscles give me a healthy squeeze, “I’ll take that as a yes.”



After a few minutes I pulled back a bit further and began thrusting into her harder and faster now and her panting told me that she liked how my dick felt inside of her. Her pussy gripped and massaged me like no woman I had ever been with before. This was a day of firsts. Celine watched intent and was using lube she had gotten from below and was working two fingers in and out of her tight ass. Five minutes later Madelyn was crying out and I felt her sex grip me like a velvet fist and held me where I was. Her body shuddered and she had dropped her head and was moaning and growling as the last tingles of her orgasm passed. I pulled out and Madelyn literally threw her arms around me and molded her body to mine kissing me like she would die otherwise.



“Lover,” she said breaking our embrace, “we are sailing to Crete tomorrow I want you to come with us!”



“Umm… I never dreamed of sailing to Crete… don’t take this wrong but I need to tell my friends and contact my mom. She’s a worrier you understand.”



“Mmm,” she kissed me again, “I would be disappointed if you didn’t tell your mother. She would worry sick otherwise. You are a good son I appreciate that in you. Family is very important!”



“Okay… then sure I’d love to go with you two,” I said.



“Oh Vin it will be nine of us in all, most of the crew are ashore right now…”



“Makes sense you’d need more people to pilot something this big,” I told her.



“Vin…” Celine called out to me, “before you leave the boat… can you treat me to that cock of yours?”



She was bent over with her hands gripping her ass cheeks and even as she spoke she pulled her cheeks apart showing me her glistening asshole so very eager to be fucked.



“I’d be a fool to turn down such an invitation…” I said looking at Madelyn who smiled and nodded.



“Don’t leave the poor thing begging Vin, that would be cruel,” Madelyn whispered in my ear.



I walked over and moved behind Celine and pressed the head of my cock against her asshole and gently and very slowly pushed. Her preparations made it easier for me to get the mushroom shaped head of my cock in passed that tight ring of muscle. Before long I was as deep as she could handle and I let her get used to me before I started moving my hips.



“You said you enjoyed anal NNNNN how does that feel lover,” Celine asked.



“Fucking amazing,” I moaned in her ear.



“Good, now start fucking my ass… yeah… like that…” she growled.



I fucked her nice and slow and she let out a little grunt each time my cock moved into her and sooner than I thought possible she was gently pushing backwards when I thrust foreword. We were both grunting now and I was fighting my orgasm with everything I had. Her ass was so fucking tight! After ten minutes or so I felt my self control slipping and knew I would be coming very soon.



“Can’t fight it any longer…” I moaned.



“Cum in my ass, I want to feel it spray my insides!”



I thrust hard and fast now knowing I had less than a minute left before my orgasm hit me. Celine was screaming to me and with a single final thrust my cock pulsed hot cum into her tighter hole.



“Damn but that’s one hell of a sight,” came a new voice, a male voice.



I looked over my shoulder and there stood a man of average height with an olive complexion and bright blue eyes.



“Honey this is Vin, Vin this is my husband Cronus Anetakis.”



I eased my cock out of Celine and shook his hand and he looked down and went pale.



“Damn Vin how do you keep from passing out when you get hard?”



“I really don’t know,” I said shrugging. “Mind if I get dressed?”



“Didn’t mean to stare but… god damn you put us to shame…”



“Vin is travelling with us back to Crete,” Madelyn said.



I noticed she didn’t ask she just said it like ‘oh by the way…’ and her husband just nodded then went to grab something from the fridge. I turned to Celine and asked her if everything was okay.



“Am I fifth wheel around here,” I asked.



“Oh not at all don’t worry about a thing.”



“I need to take a shower before I head back to shore…”



She smiled and dove off the boat into the ocean I leaned over and she was waving me in. I dove in after her and the cool water felt amazing after all that had happened on the boat. Celine and I swam in slow circles kissing and holding each other tight.



“…does he know…” Cronus’ voice filtered down.



“…I don’t know… she told him… yet…” replied Madelyn.



“What are they talking about,” I asked Celine breaking our kiss.



“My dad, it’s about my dad…”



“What about your dad… is he going to be upset you are leaving Jamaica?”



“Oh he knows and is disappointed but not mad… he’s just a little over protective is all.”



“Great… is he going to shoot me if he sees us holding hands or something?”



“No… he is the local Vaudoux… a sorcerer of great power…”



“So no gun, but curse… yes?”



“I am sorry…” but I cut her off with a kiss.



“Do you regret what you did,” I asked. “Do you feel bad about the pleasure you gave me?”



“NO…”



“Then I will face your father’s anger knowing neither of us has any hard feelings over this.”



While I floated in the water I didn’t fear a curse or evil spirits… I was a fool and would learn the wrath of the old gods and would suffer til the day I died.



The stars were blazing in the night sky, Celine and I had hooked up with my friends and I told them I was leaving for Crete the next day. It was a mixed reaction but William gave me the thumbs up after meeting Celine.



“You’d be a fool not to dude,” William said as we pounded a few shots of local rot gut in the neighborhood bar.



“I am going to help Celine get her stuff on the boat later tonight, can you mail this letter I wrote my mom so she doesn’t lose her mind,” I asked William.



“Sure dude no problem, consider it done.”



We drank for another hour before it was time to get Celine’s things and meet her father. I was a little nervous but chalked it up to meeting some scary Jamaican dude with a machete. But to my surprise he was a laid back looking man in his early fifties with salt and pepper dreadlocks and skin the color of ebony. His bright green eyes were a shock though and Celine said that is why he was chosen by the previous magician as his successor. Celine did a very brief introduction and left me there to face her father alone as she grabbed her meager belongings.



“So your daughter is a sword swallower,” poor choice of ice breaking topic?



“She was before the Greek lured her away… you don’t look Greek you are very white!”



“I am American…”



“…that is worse than Greek… she is better than you but you will never see it…”



“Listen I am not here to disrespect you or your daughter…”



“Your very presence here is an affront to the spirits and my family…”



“I came here to help Celine to carry her things to the boat…”



“You are not worthy to say her name…” he spat on me… I think that’s when I snapped.



I looked down at the loogie on my nice new shirt and I felt the blood rush to my face.



“Motherfucker! That was the last fucking straw… I am not going to beat the piss out of you for her sake but the next time I have her bent over, moaning and calling out my name I’ll be thinking of you!”



It was his turn to lose his temper and it was a terrible thing. He never said a word, he walked over to the altar at the back of the room and picked up a wooden bowl and hurled its contents at my crotch and cried out in a wordless howl and pointed at me.



“Now my fucking shorts! Have you lost your fucking mind?”



“You are cursed…” he said in a low cold tone, “that thing between your legs you are so proud of will bring you nothing but misery from this moment on. You shall never sire children and you will die alone and unloved.”



“FATHER!” Celine was standing in the doorway her dusky complexion pale and she was shaking in fear… for me. “What have you done?”



“He has defiled you and he will pay the price!”



“Daddy… he didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want to happen…”



I could see the regret in the old man’s eyes but he shook his head and walked passed her never saying goodbye.



“I am sorry Vin,” Celine said approaching me slowly staring at my stained shorts as if it were blood that had marked me.



“Me too, I just bought these clothes…”



“But the curse,” She said softly.



“No disrespect but nothing bad is going to happen…”



The words were barely out of my mouth when three girls walked by and saw us and the one in the middle stopped and whispered in the ear of the girl to her left and then the one on the right. There was some discussion and muttering before the one in the middle broke from the group and walked up to me.



“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t help but notice your stain…” her English accent giving her an almost sexy air.



Her breath reeked of alcohol and she smiled brilliantly before saying…



“…outlining that HUGE cock of yours that we can see from the street…” she said and looked back at her friends before saying, “…we want to buy you a drink or two… before we all take a ride on that beastie of yours!”



I blinked a few times and looked at Celine who shook her head.



“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said softly so only the girl who had approached could hear, “my girlfriend here is a sword swallower I doubt you or your friends have much to offer me…”



“Sword Swallower… damn… so is that a no? I mean three girls at one time…”



“Yes that’s a no,” Celine added.



“Bitch! I wasn’t talking to you!” The girl turned on Celine and her friends approached to back her up.



“Then talk to me,” I said and the three strange girls looked at me and were all smiles, “I am not interested even if there were ten of you.”



“Oh you don’t mean that,” said the tall busty blonde as she lifted up her skirt revealing a bald pussy dripping with need. “…my pussy really needs a cock right now… you can take me in the alley and fuck me there if you want?”



“You have a lovely pussy,” I said trying to be nice, “but…”



“You like butts… check out mine…” the short brunette said as she turned and tugged down her denim shorts. “Look at that… see how nice and round it is… and I am at least as wet as Sheila is…”



“Yes very nice…” I said trying to keep things civilized.



“Nice… NICE…” the brunette’s voice gaining in volume, “…nice is how tight my pussy is and how good it will feel wrapped around that fine cock of yours!”



“Mmm all three of us could take turns sucking you off and swallow every fucking drop, isn’t that right girls?” the first girl added before I could respond and her friends nodded.



“What are you going to do suck me off right here in public,” I asked knowing they wouldn’t.



“If that’s what it takes to get your attention…” and the deed was done.



The first girl dropped/fell to her knees in front of me and yanked my shorts off of me and began giving me head right there in front of Celine’s home. I tried to force her off but when I grabbed her head she just moaned and bobbed her head further down the shaft. I tried to bite back the moan of pleasure but it snuck out of me and Celine turned to face me and to my horror she smiled.



“Serves you right for pissing off my dad…” Celine said turning to face the other two, “he’s all yours girls… Vin… I’ll see you on the boat later.”

Linda Jamison stood in front of the man and fought back tears, determined not to cry. The news that she had just received from this man shook her to the core. She would never have believed it, not about Michael. He just didn’t seem to be that type of person.



Then again, what did “that” type of person look like? She knew judges, policemen, doctors, lawyers, bankers, people from all walks of life, shared the same affliction as Michael.



“So, what are we going to do about this?” Mr. Foswell said as he looked over at the obviously-unhappy brunette. He knew that she had dolled herself up to convince him to work out a deal and he was willing to cut her some slack, but not too much slack. She was a looker, but men with his kind of money could snap their fingers and find twenty more just like her. He looked at her again. Okay, maybe five, ten tops. She was sure a gorgeous woman and he thought Michael was an idiot for risking his marriage in this way. The more he looked into Linda Jamison’s beautiful almond eyes, the more she seemed to draw him in. Maybe only one or two women had what she had. Yeah, Michael was a fucking idiot for risking his marriage to this gorgeous and exotic-looking honey.



“How much?” Linda asked, trying to keep the tears from her voice and remain calm. “How much does my husband owe you?”



Foswell looked at the brunette beauty and he had to admire her strength. She hadn’t crumpled when he called her home and she hadn’t panicked when he said he was sending someone to pick her up. The men that worked for him were a bit scary looking, but it was all for show. Foswell ran a legitimate business after taking over from his father – who didn’t. He used his gangster dad’s reputation to handle cheaters and welshers and 95% of the time, it worked out fine.



“He’s into me for a quarter million,” Foswell said to the young woman. He watched her jaw drop and her eyes go wide. To her credit, she did not cry, faint or crumple to the ground. If anything, she looked furious.



“That’s almost what he earns in a year,” Linda said with anger in her soft voice. “How could he be so damned stupid?” She loved Michael. She had been the happiest girl in the world when they had married two short years ago. She had known a number of men, but none like her husband. She had waited 33 years for a man like him, tall, handsome and successful. They had even talked of having a family. That would have to wait. It was obvious her husband had a problem and she needed to do something about it. First, she had to find a way to settle things with Mr. Foswell.



“We don’t have that kind of money,” Linda said and looked at him with pleading eyes. An idea struck her. “We have a huge home and it’s all in my name. I can take out a second mortgage on the house and pay you most of the money – in a week, would that be okay?”



Foswell admired the young woman, she had moxie. “Yeah, but what about the rest? Tell you what – I need a few cocktail waitresses to take some extra shifts. You’re hotter’n hell, you come work for me and I’ll deduct the remaining debt from your wages.”



“I’m sorry, but I don’t intend to work for free,” Linda stated plainly.



“Doll, with your face and body, you’ll clean up in tips,” Foswell told her. “Believe me; you won’t be workin’ for free. Do we have a deal?”



She extended her hand and Foswell didn’t think he’d ever touched skin that soft. “We do,” Linda said to him with great appreciation. “Thank you, I’ll make sure you get what you’re entitled to.”



As she drove her sporty little MG home, Linda’s wheels were spinning, but not in the car. She now knew that Michael was a compulsive gambler and his “poker nights” were spent losing most of their savings. She was going to find a way to put a stop to that. She thought that part of Michael knew he had a problem and that is why he had insisted the house be in her name only. That had saved their bacon, now what? She would have to find a way to pay off their second mortgage. Michael could easily gamble away their money again.



Then, it hit her. A Linda Michael had never met resurfaced. It was the survivor instinct of a young woman who was on her own at 16 and at 18, had done what she needed to do to survive. A Linda who was wily and smart and who got whatever she went after. This Linda was going to insure their future and if Michael got out of line, she could deal with his ass. She loved him, but the Linda that was now driving the MG was a survivor above all else.



Michael had met the attractive brunette in a nightclub and offered to buy her a drink. They got to talking and he danced with her. She was surprised because most men couldn’t dance, although he could – very well. She was dying to know if he moved equally well in bed. As it turned out, he did. So well, that she never bothered to tell him why she had been in the club in the first place.



Linda had been a high-class call girl since the age of 18. A friend had shown her the way and helped her set up a website presence. She had been doing very well and was supposed to meet her date at the club when his wife got sick and had to be rushed to the hospital. Linda got paid in advance, so she had time to kill. She was in the club looking to see if she could attract another man – or hot lady, Linda sometimes partied with women. In a leopard print hat and matching boots, with her hair down and a very short skirt, she remembered Michael telling her that she stood out from the crowd like sunshine through a field of black clouds.



She found herself falling for Michael after their first-ever “date”. He was funny and chatty and talkative. She also found out he was very successful. He took her to a restaurant where dinner cost as much as she earned for a few hours of kinky sex.



So many times over the next few weeks, Linda had wanted to tell Michael what she did for a living. She didn’t intend to be deceptive, although she wondered if he’d end it if he knew. She scaled back her working schedule; she was no longer the desperate woman of some years earlier. She had savings and investments and owned her small condo outright. When Michael asked her to marry him, she accepted. She had a few final flings with favorite customers and left that world behind.



Now, it was time for THAT Linda to return. She had to control their life and she knew how. The same way she had for most of her life – with sex.



Michael had a higher sex drive than many of her former clients. Linda rarely went unsatisfied in bed. Okay, it was time to up the ante. Michael wanted this and he wanted that. She was going to treat their sex life as a game, but completely everything was in favor of the house. He could have whatever it was he wanted – but everything as of now was going to cost him. She walked into their spacious home and looked in the mirror. She hadn’t lost her looks, not one iota.



She called the bank and made arrangements for their second mortgage. Mr. Dillon could not have been more helpful and he told her no, as she was the sole name on the mortgage, Michael would not necessarily have to be informed. Only in case of an emergency. When she finished the arrangements, knowing how much debt Michael had put them into, Linda was seething. She looked in the mirror again.



Oh yeah, sex was going to cost her husband big-time.



Michael came home on time from his job and acted as if nothing was wrong. She had to give him credit; he knew how to keep a secret. His was almost as big as hers. All throughout dinner, he didn’t mention Foswell or his huge debt, although Linda knew Foswell had contacted him. She tried to push her resentment down, telling herself he had a problem. She needed to deal with things one step at a time. She went upstairs and came down dressed in a slinky black teddy and her sluttiest pair of 5-inch stiletto heels. “In the mood for a fuck, handsome?” She purred as she leaned in close. She knew her husband would never turn down a horny woman, so she had his interest.



“Of course, what did you have in mind?” Michael asked as his sexy wife sat on his lap. He’d never seen this teddy before and there was a wild, feral look in her eyes.



“Baby, we’re going to play a game,” she purred, keeping up the pretense of knowing nothing about his problems. “I’m going to act as a call girl and sex is going to cost you. A blowjob and a hot fuck will cost you – oh, let’s say, $1500. What do you think, am I worth it?”



“Of course you are baby, but are you serious?” Michael chuckled.



Linda kept up her act. “Uh-huh, I could use a little mad money so that I can buy more naughty things like this little outfit,” she grinned and did a small pirouette. “Do you like it?”



“You bet I do,” Michael grinned as he got out his wallet. “Okay, I’ll play along.” He handed her 15 $100 dollar bills and watched in amazement as she put them in a drawer for safe keeping. She led him upstairs to their bedroom and he couldn’t help noticing her persona seemed different. She seemed wilder, nastier, almost – dare he say it – a bit of a slut?



Whatever had gotten into Linda, that night he got a far different wife than the one he was used to. She sucked and fondled and gave him the noisiest, wettest blowjob of his life and instead of spitting out his cum, she swallowed it and made quite the production out of it. He got her wet by eating her, but she wasn’t as anxious for oral as she normally was. He waited for her to mount him, as she usually liked to be on top, but she looked at him with her gorgeous dark eyes and asked him how he wanted to fuck.



“Well, we always …”



“You’re the customer lover, you get whatever you want. You paid for it,” Linda smiled.



Michael looked at his gorgeous wife as if he was seeing a different woman. She had even kept her sexy heels on in bed, something he found to be a real turn-on! “Are you serious?” He asked with a chuckle.



They almost always fucked with Linda on top, because it was her favorite and he liked to please her. It wasn’t his favorite, he liked doggy, so he requested that. Linda nodded and let him slip it in from behind. She let him slam her pussy with as much strength as he could muster up. Linda wasn’t totally mercenary about it, she enjoyed the fuck and let him go as long as he wanted. She made him cum again and then, they were done.



“Another round?” He asked with a happy smile.



“If you’ve got another $1500, sure,” Linda told him. He looked at her with astonishment. “I told you babe, I want to have a bit of mad money, so you’re going to provide it for a while. In exchange, you get a whore for a wife. A slut who will please you in bed. I might decide to fuck you for my own pleasure every so often, but get used to the new status quo.” Linda rolled over and fell asleep while her husband stared at her. Something had changed, drastically changed. He liked a bit of it, the unbridled Linda was incredible, yet it troubled him somewhat as well. Oh well – they were still newlyweds in a sense, they’d adjust.



Linda went to the bank early the next day, about an hour after Michael had left for work. She wore a clingy white sweater and a short black skirt with high heels. She got a check from Mr. Dillon and he gave her a reasonable rate for her second mortgage as she was such a “valued customer”. Linda smiled and thanked him, sure her naughty attire had nothing to do with it. She handed back $1000 in cash towards her first payment and banked the remainder in her account. Michael never checked there. She would buy some new pieces of lingerie from that account every so often. In the meantime, she had several trashy outfits from her former career that he had never seen before.



Michael had a busy week at work and Linda played the supportive wife, cooking all of his meals and keeping the house tidy. She also started her job at the casino and found she liked it. The other hostesses were cute and Foswell had been right, the tips were enormous. She was astonished to find out what he paid his girls. “I pay the best, so I get the best,” he told her as she moved about in her new, short black uniform. He still couldn’t believe the hot brunette cookie had managed to come up with 200 Grand on her own. He had underestimated her.



Linda could easily have started up her old career again and was occasionally tempted. Part of her was still furious with Michael, addiction or no addiction. A lot of the customers were good looking. She could have gone the “women only” route and done fine, it was easy to spot girl-loving girls because of the way they tipped or looked her over. Linda’s survivor instincts were still working, she wasn’t ready to make any moves as yet, but she wasn’t ruling anything out either.



By the end of the week, Linda was horny as hell and almost abandoned her plan. Fortunately for her, Michael was not a man who could hold out for sex too much longer. He needed a release after a stressful week. He asked Linda if they could go upstairs and fuck and she smiled sweetly. “Certainly darling, did you have anything particular in mind?”



He smiled back at his sensual, exotic wife. Part of this arrangement might work out to his advantage, although he couldn’t afford to play poker and screw his whore-wife. His libido won out, of course. “I’ve always wanted to fuck those great tits of yours, maybe give you a pearl necklace?” He grinned. Linda had many customers in her past career who had done that, it was no big deal. Still, she wasn’t telling Michael that.



“Sure tiger, I think with the other things included we can do that for 2 Grand,” she smiled sweetly. Michael’s eyes rolled back in his head, but if sex with Linda tonight was anything like it had been before, it would be worth it. The money had turned her libido on to overdrive. He handed her two $1000 bills, which she put in her purse. “I’m going upstairs to shower and put on something really slutty,” Linda told him. “Finish loading the dishwasher and join me when you’re done.”



Michael got his chores done and almost ran up the stairs. It seemed odd, to be doing chores and living with a woman he was paying to fuck, but it also had an air of kinky fun to it. He stopped in his tracks when he got to their bedroom. Linda was wearing a white lace bodysuit with holes cut out on the sides. She wore another pair of stilettos, this pair white and also with a silver tip. If his money was going towards buying clothes like this, it was money well spent.



“Come on in handsome, I don’t bite,” Linda said with a throaty purr. “I might scratch and nibble, if you get me too hot. I hope you’re ready for a hot fuck baby, this gets me really fucking wet.”



Michael had never seen this side of his wife before. Yeah, she loved sex, but this Linda almost craved it and wasn’t afraid to be a total slut. She had a good time undressing him and then sucked his cock even more vigorously than the last time. Again, she swallowed his cum and then she let him have fun with her tits before undressing her. Her bodysuit was flimsy and she was glad he was careful with it, because it had been expensive. He ate her cunt with more vigor than she had ever known. When Linda was a “working girl”, very few of her customers ever got to do that. She afforded Michael that honor because he was her husband and he was very, very good at it – now he was even better.



This night, Michael fucked his whore wife in the Missionary position, something they had only done a few times during their sex life. Then Linda got some oil and lubed up her titties. She squeezed them together and let her man fuck her jugs before cumming all over her. It wasn’t something she wanted to make a habit of, but she was now 2 thousand richer and another step closer to paying their bills. Plus, Michael hadn’t gone to “poker night”, she knew he couldn’t afford to do both.



She went to the bank before going to work the next day and got some astonished looks when she made another payment on their mortgage. She deposited the remainder, plus her tip money, into her other account. Linda decided to go shopping the next day and get some new lingerie, a pair of heels, some toys and other supplies. To be the perfect whore-slut, one had to stay on top of things. She sailed through work that afternoon and walked away with a few hundred in tips and an offer from a very attractive black woman. She smiled sweetly and told the girl she’d think about it – and she would. The woman was hot as hell.



The lingerie boutique Linda visited was very upscale, she had used it in the past because everything they sold was of the highest quality. Linda figured that she would likely end up spending four figures on her new inventory, but it would be money well spent and she would reap some of the rewards as well. The new-old Linda was getting some of the best fucking of her life.



She was putting items on the counter that she intended to purchase when a woman she recognized approached her. It was the store’s owner, whom Linda knew from years earlier. “I thought I recognized you,” the woman said, giving Linda a small kiss on the cheek. “I haven’t seen you in years!”



“I got married,” Linda smiled and the woman – what was her name? – looked back at her.



“Oh, I see,” the owner – Jen-something? – Linda knew she’d get it “The marriage didn’t work out?”



“No, we’re still married, I’m not in the business any longer,” Linda told her. “We’re just experimenting with some new ideas.”



“I see,” the owner – Colleen, that was it! – said to Linda. “My husband and I have experimented for years, that’s why we own the store. I was actually hoping that you were still in the business, actually,” Colleen sighed. She began to put Linda’s purchases into a neat little pile while they talked.



“Why?”



“My husband and I were looking to have a threesome, but not with anyone we know,” Colleen told her. “We just want to have a no-strings-attached fucking good time and both of us thought of you. As if by magic, here you are.”



The old Linda popped up at that second. “Okay, I might be interested – can we make a deal?” Colleen’s blue eyes lit up and she nodded. “I’ll come over to your home and fuck with the pair of you for an evening. I’ll be a total whore, for one night – and in exchange, you give me a good deal on all of this stuff!” Linda knew she would be cheating on her husband, but at this point, it was more money in the bank. A one-time deal that she could use to make another payment on their home.



“You have a deal,” Colleen smiled. “I won’t charge you a thing for your items, they’re on the house. I remember that some of my regulars partied with you. They said that you’re a total slut in bed, which is just what Aaron and I want.”



The two women worked out the particulars. The following Saturday, Michael was going on a fishing trip with his friends. He had heard from Foswell, who had informed him a “friend” had paid off his tab, but that he shouldn’t come to his tables again. Michael thanked his lucky stars and hung up. It couldn’t have been Linda, she knew nothing about his addiction and if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet about it. He went on his trip and decided to join Gamblers Anonymous when he got back and rebuild their savings. Linda deserved a secure future and she’d been so wild in the sack lately. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea of kids?



Linda watched her husband drive away and phoned Colleen. She got dressed in a slutty PVC outfit and called a cab to take her to Colleen’s home. She wasn’t there 15 minutes before she had Aaron’s big cock in her mouth and Colleen’s lips glued to her pussy. She felt like such a slut again and realized that this woman was the true Linda. She loved her husband, but she needed the excitement of extra sex. She was going to work again, just every so often, to keep her slutty desires at bay. Michael would never find out because she intended to keep blinding him with kinky sex.

Bodie was a farm boy from North Carolina with big, weed-pulling fists that could thump the biggest of enemies into the ground. He was a sweet boy with docile blue eyes and a mean temper. He had never gotten an A in his life, but that didn’t matter to Bodie because he had no plans to go to college this year. After school he’d work on his family’s farm until the day he inherited it, and that was just what he wanted; to be the proud, hard-working king of his domain.



Vikas had a sweet face too. He, on the other hand, was small and lean and charismatic. The young heir of India’s wealthiest family, he was essentially royalty, and with that came a certain measure of justified smugness. He had never been refused a single indulgence in his life and never would.



And so, with Vikas’ 19th birthday approaching and Bodie setting off on a backpacking trip around India with his buddies, it came to be that these perfectly opposite boys from opposite ends of the worlds would come to meet.



On the morning Bodie’s plane launched into the sky, while a stewardess insisted he and his jubilant friends stop jumping in their seats and shouting across the aisle to each other, Vikas was finishing his birthday wish by lamplight, in bed..



- iPad 2



- Ferrari Enzo, yellow



- Dr Dre Beats headphones



- American boy. Blond, blue eyes, nice



* * *



Bodie was 6.3, but in Vikas’ hands he was kitten-sized.



No-one could explain exactly how. It was the way the blond boy instinctively cowered at his master’s feet, perhaps. It was the fact they he was never allowed to be eye-level. Wide green eyes, staring up at brown eyes. It was the way Vikas would stroke Bodie’s face with just his fingertips, tickling him with a smile both adoring and comfortably superior. It was the dainty way Bodie would kiss the Indian boy’s shoes. Forgetting his years on the football field, forgetting the concept of his masculinity, he would pucker his lips and dab them against the shoes’ long, square toes, making cute little smooching noises.



Their size difference was unnoticable as Vikas rubbed his hand over the crouching slave’s face. As long as Bodie could be kept on his knees with the whisper of a command, they appeared as they were: a boy and his pet, nothing more.



* * *



Vikas sat in the vast front room of the family mansion, conversing with his father’s friends during one of the regular dinner parties that were held here. The boy exhaled long white streams of smoke through his nose, playing with the hookah hose between his slim fingers. He talked and laughed while his shoes sat on the floor by his seat, and his feet rested on Bodie’s bowed head.



Bodie was dressed as always in clean white boxer briefs. Clothes were a status symbol that he was not permitted, but to maintain his modesty his sizeable manhood was always encased in cotton. Bodie remembered when having a big dick made him feel like a man, back in a time when he was allowed to feel masculine. Before the smallest display of pride or confidence resulted in a decorated whip slashing at his back or buttocks, or even his face if he was audacious enough to speak directly to his master. The first time, the pain took his breath away for a minute. After that he learned fast, and now whenever Vikas entered the room he was greeted by a silent storm of kisses all over his feet. Vikas adored this, just as he enjoyed seeing a big muscle-bound man roll on his back on command, accepting whatever baby talk or delighted laughter his Master dealt him. Once his masculinity was plucked away from him forever, Bodie made one adorable pet.



Vikas shuffled his feet back into his shoes and snapped his fingers, commanding Bodie to follow him upstairs. In his room, away from the noise of the party, a darkly gleeful look took over the young man’s face as he pushed his door shut. He stood in front of Bodie, who posed stiffly on his knees, his eyes staring straight down at his owner’s jeweled leather slippers. The toes curled upward, seeming to naturally sneer somehow, just like the boy who wore them. “You love your master?” Vikas asked, arms folded.



Bodie nodded silently. Just in case this was a test, he didn’t make eye contact without permission. “Yes, you love your master. Very.. much..” As Vikas spoke his delicate hand descended past the kneeling boy’s bare abs. Bodie jerked back, shocked, when the long fingers stroked his most shameful and private of parts.



Not a second later the whip thrashed his cheek and he bit down on a howl of pain. Adamant, Vikas reached down again and asserted himself. “I said, you love your master.” He squeezed the other boy’s large testicles in his palm, inspiring the dormant cock to unfold in a single long stir, pitching a tent thicker than the rich boy’s wrist. Vikas’ eyes glowed hungrily. This sort of behaviour was strictly forbidden in his family. He knew he would never have a real boyfriend. But a mute, humble servant was the perfect toy to explore his burning curiosity with. He stroked the long, cotton clad pole while Bodie struggled to balance on his thick, trembling thighs.



“You seem to like me very much. I think you may be in love with me.” Vikas suggested as he thumbed the damp, bulbous knob at the end of the rod. He had never seen a penis this big in person before, even wrapped in cotton. He couldn’t believe that he finally had his very own well hung man to toy with at his leisure. “No wonder you hurry always to kiss my feet, to be by my side. Do you wish you were my boyfriend?” He enquired cheekily.



Quietly sobbing, Bodie nodded. He wasn’t gay. He had no idea what kind of sick game this was, but to disagree with this kid would be suicidal. If Vikas wanted an admirer, that was him. If Vikas wanted a cock to tease and play with, it was his to take. Because if Vikas ever became upset and wanted Bodie turned to dog food, it would be done within the hour. “I love you, Master.” He whispered through his tears.



Vikas’ smirk grew, ear to ear. This was the best birthday present ever.



The boy’s thin, agile fingers scratched lightly, stroking the rock hard tent from base to tip, until Bodie’s body was blushed all over and his muscular farm-worked legs were quaking with painful restraint.



“I think you are very close to proving your love for me.” Vikas said with a smile. He was about to witness something he had always wanted to see the expressions, the sounds, the smells associated with a man’s orgasm. The total vulnerability. And it would happen when he chose, probably at his very next touch.



“Vikas! What are you doing up here? My guests are asking after you.” The boy’s father, a tall, broad, suited man in his 50s bellowed from the doorway. Vikas jumped in shock. With his back to the doorway, Bodie closed his eyes and prayed to disappear. “What are you doing up here with your American boy?”



“Father! He followed me up here. He.. He says he is in love with me.” At that moment Vikas lifted his foot as if to plant it on Bodie’s chest. Instead he brought it down, applying just enough pressure to step on the slave’s covered cock head, squashing the knob ever so lightly under his hard shoe sole. One twitch, a rush of blood and Bodie was helpless. The orgasm devoured him.



His big, beautiful body bucked involuntarily on the bedroom floor. Torrents of cum spurted into his underwear, the hot cream seeping through to and drizzling down his thigh. Vikas looked on with wide, ecstatic eyes while the young man yelped in conflicted pleasure, finally falling on his hands and slumping his humiliated face against his cruel teen master’s shoes.



The father roared. Vikas stepped back, concealing a hysterical smile as he demanded indignantly. “Father! He is mad! I want a new servant, one who won’t throw himself at me this way!” It was only the older man’s rage that kept him from realising his son was laughing.



Two hulking guards appeared and threw a collar around Bodie’s neck, whipping him savagely as they dragged him out of the room, choking for mercy. On his way to the cellar his soiled underwear caught and tore half way down his reddened legs, but the lashes continued until the cellar doors were slammed shut, not to be opened until he was dragged back out and auctioned off to the first owner of a sweat shop or whore house.



Upstairs, the boy’s father paced Vikas’ room. “That kind of behaviour! In my house!” He fumed.



Vikas did his best to soothe him. “You couldn’t have known, father. But you must make sure his replacement is older and not as foolish. Some-one big and mature, who is nice and developed for me.”

The men cheered as she removed one more tiny layer of gauzy veil, leaving her tanned, smooth flesh even more bare than before. As she danced lithely away from some casually groping fingers she spun the flimsy piece of silk over her head and let it flutter to the floor where the rest of the many nearly invisible pieces lay on the floor.



The heat in the Inn made her slim, tight body slick with perspiration as she danced sensually among the men, the last remaining pieces of silk clung to the contours of her breasts and sex like a lightly shaded blue skin, revealing as much as they hid.



These Northerners had never seen anything like the dance of veils that Talia performed now, and they were mad with lust for her. Rarely would even the most callus of whores reveal this much skin in public, for whatever reason, and Talia was not any run of the mill whore. She was more than even these ill-bred Northern barbarians could imagine. And yet she danced for them. She danced a sacred, profound dance for them because it earned her a lot of golden coins.



And because it made her feel wonderful to dance like this. As she whirled and undulated before them her muscles rippled gloriously beneath the silky sheath of her flawless skin. The thin gauze of her remaining costume showed the blush of her tight, hard nipples, the points of them lifting the filmy material and leaving a clear outline of her excitement. Below, her sex bloomed pinkly and a moist line ran down the centre making men moan with passion, her small tuft of well groomed hair a dark shadow through the blue silk. Even back home most women didn’t groom the hair of their sex, but Noblewomen did, and Talia had once been as Noble as they come.



The tiny chain around her waist tinkled softly in the sudden silence as she ran her hands along the swell of her pert breasts and aimed them at the man in the purple robes. The chain lead to a small dangly piercing in her navel, something else these Northman never saw, ands as she rapidly swayed her hips back and forth the tiny bells in the piercing jingled delicately, the cymbals on her fingers momentarily quiet so they could all hear.



The man in the robes had remained still during the whole performance, but as Talia focused her attention on him he began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Trying to adjust some discomfort below the belt perhaps?



As she brought the dance to its climactic end Talia arched her back low, pushing her sex toward the man in the purple robes, her breasts high and pointed at the smoke stained rafters, and as she beat a speedy rhythm with her finger cymbals she let her body lower to the stained floor her legs folded beneath her buttocks and her practically nude body sprawled out at the feet of this man, an offering. Then she went still, all noise ceased for a heartbeat.



Then the tavern exploded in loud male voices and the banging of tankards on the table top.



Once again she had bewitched the lot of them. Coins flew through the air toward her, and bounced off of her supine form. Talia didn’t move until the tide of money grew slow and then she stood up in one fluid motion and walked upstairs to the room she rented for the night, and a serving woman from the tavern gathered the coins for her, no doubt pocketing as many as she dared.



It didn’t matter. The money down there was nothing compared to the money she was about to earn up here. And that money would still be only a drop in the large bucket of coin she had.



Talia quickly bathed off the sweat of her dance in a basin, and donned some more of the silky scarves that made up her dancer’s costume. As she finished tucking the last scarf into a band at her wrist the knock she had been expecting came. With one last pat to be sure the veil over her face was in place she went to the door and opened it



“Madam,” the serving girl said with a curtsey, her hands full of Talia’s coins, “A man wished to call on you.”



Looking past the girl, Talia saw the man in the purple robes, he was standing as far from the door as he could get, trying to look aloof and above it all, but he glanced at her quickly and his eyes were wide with lust.



Without a word Talia gestured the girl and the man into her room. The girl put the coins on a table by the large comfortable looking bed. Talia went to a pair of deeply upholstered chairs by the richly curtained window, and sat. She then poured two glasses of a fine wine while the serving girl let herself out, closing the door behind her.



The man in robes stood awkwardly for a moment, and then made his way to Talia. He bowed low in the Northern fashion and cleared his throat.



“I must introduce myself, I am Shel Nathar, a merchant of some small reputation, ” He smiled quickly, then it was gone, “I have been many places, and seen much, but never before have I seen anything like the performance you just gave, my Lady.”



“Thank you.” She said simply, her voice low, and her accent heavier than it need be.



“May I have your name Lady?”



“You may call me Dancer. It will suffice.”



“As you say.”



Talia gestured for him to sit. He did so, and took up the proffered wine. After a sip his eyes widened.



“A very fine wine.”



“I prefer the best.”



“As do I Dancer, as do I. And you are the best.”



Talia nodded a polite acknowledgment.



“Dancer, the nature of your dance, it would seem it has a great meaning, but I admit to not being sure of what that was.”



“It has layers of subtlety, but also a more obvious objective… which I believe you have already felt.”



“Ah, ahem, I believe you may be right.” He sipped his drink, “I do not wish to offend Dancer, but I find myself at somewhat of a loss for words.”



“That would be a pity, if it were so.” She let a little chill into her tone, implying that she would not be the one to proceed, and he had best be a man.



Shel, understood, and it gave him some manner of courage. “I find myself aroused by your mere presence, you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I would very much enjoy it if you would dance for me once more. A private dance.”



“I dance for coin good sir.”



“Ah, yes.” Reaching down to his belt he opened a purse and pulled out a stack of coins that he placed gingerly upon the table. Talia ignored them and sipped her wine. More coins appeared. She sipped delicately once again. Soon a large stack lay upon the table and as the last coin was placed Talia placed her glass down next to them and stood.



Moving to the bedside table she placed three rings on each hand. The rings had tiny silver bells on them and they pealed gloriously as she donned them. Then without a word she began a slow, sinuous dance.



Talia’s outfit looked like a billowing gown of sorts but as soon as she moved the gaps between scarves showed like slits revealing her long elegant limbs beneath. Her arms above her head, the rings tinkling a soft rhythm Talia danced a sultry dance that moved her around the empty space in the centre of the room.



The merchant’s eyes never left her form, his gaze tracking wherever she wanted it, a flash of leg there, an hint of belly there, she danced and made him dance with her, his eyes the most agile part of him.



Like the dance below in the common room she slowly removed veil after veil. Seemingly by accident they fluttered to the floor showing more and more of her tanned skin. When she was once more down to just the tiny slips covering her breasts and sex Talia moved in very closely to the man.



This time however she let slip the covering of her hair and her long black tresses fell in a cascade down her back and over her delicately muscled shoulders. As her hair fell a soft smell of jasmine filled the area as the spice wafted out from her.



Dancing closer still Talia let her legs spread wide around Shel’s where he sat still as a statue. Then she straddled him and began to undulate, simulating riding his cock passionately. As her hands played the gentle bells her fingers explored her body and seemingly accidently pulled the wisps of cloth from her heaving bosom.



Her proud breasts were now exposed, the nipples hard and rosy. The meat of her swells swayed with her movements, the small mounds firm and smooth. Talia squeezed her own perky orbs and moaned softly while her hips lowered and her sex ground down over his.



Lowering her hands Talia began to rub her toned belly, the muscles of her abdomen sharp and defined beneath the silky skin. Her belly encircled by the small chain seemed more bare for the tiny links enclosing it.



Lower still her fingers roamed and the wisps of string holding the silk over her sex fell away and the gauze dropped to his lap revealing the slick pout of her lower lips.



In a simulation of fever, Talia arched her back, hiding her sex from his gaze and then she curled her hips forward sharply letting her glistening slit wink at him. Back and forth she cavorted above him, her juncture leaving small wet marks on his robes where she pressed herself to him.



Then when she could take the teasing no more, Talia fell to her knees before him and lifted his robes. Undoing his small clothes she pulled his rigid member out of its hiding place and engulfed it in her hungry mouth.



By this point Talia was even more aroused than the merchant. Her body ached to be filled, her hungry slot demanded she satisfy it with man meat, but she needed to taste him first. The spear of his flesh slid to the back of her throat and she hummed a soft purr of pleasure, making him jump. With one hand she pumped his tool into her happy mouth, while she plunged the fingers of her other hand in and out of her grasping slit.



When she felt him grow tense with the need to climax she stood up letting his wet cock fall from her saliva covered lips and she went to the large bed and lay down on it, her body open to him, her legs spread wide.



He came to her, pulling his clothes off in a rush, and soon he lay atop her and plunged himself deeply into her steaming depths. Talia cried out a real cry of passion as he filled her needy chasm. And while he began to pump himself into her she had a climax of her own. As her passion tore sanity from her mind like one of her veils, she clawed at him like a cat, her short dull nails trying to rip him, which was one of the reasons they were so short.



When her orgasm subsided Talia opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her with a glazed expression, one of his hands cupped her breast, massaging it, and the other held him up over her as he drove himself into her hard.



Talia lifted a leg up over his hip and with a twist and a push flipped him over on his back, his member still wedged deeply inside her hole. The shocked look on his face made her smile inwardly. He hadn’t expected that sort of strength from her, she looked so delicate. Now Talia rode him setting the pace. She bucked quickly up and down on him, stopping every few plunges to grind her sensitive button down onto his pubic bone, thrilling her body.



His large hands reached up and began to both massage her tender mounds, making her sigh with lust. Milking him with her strong inner muscles, making him moan, she drew his seed from the depths of his heavy sack and she felt his rod swell up as he fought off his need to orgasm.



Talia dismounted and pulled his hand to make him sit up, then stand. Then she fell to her knees before him on the floor and took his member into her mouth once more. With her hands she showed him what she wanted. Taking one she placed it on her head, the other she placed on his shaft and she began to stroke him with it, while he was still in her mouth. Then he took over and masturbated himself into her willing orifice.



When he was doing it on his own Talia took her own hands and began to stoke his thighs and massage his testicles. Then with a grunt the merchant began to shoot his thick sperm into her mouth. As soon as the first gout spurted out onto her tongue Talia pulled her face back and put her hand over his to keep him pumping. She then aimed his cock at her face and made him shoot his seed onto her upturned features. Ropes of ejaculate sprayed out across her beautiful visage and Shel gave a long low moan as he did so. Looking up at him as his seed spilled over her Talia saw him looking down at her with a shocked expression, his face flushed and his teeth gritted.



She had discovered over the years that men loved to abase a woman like her, and she had grown to love it as well. The moment a man spilled out over her face it made her have her own climax. Something in the demeaning nature of it thrilled her.



As Shel’s sperm trickled down over her lips Talia licked it delicately allowing the pungent flavor to fill her mouth while her hips juddered a new kind of dance. One she could barely contain. Gasping with pleasure she relished the hot spray of his sperm as it drizzled over her cheeks and into her open mouth.



When he had spent himself she took his phallus into her mouth one more time and suckled him, pulling the very last drops of his essence into her thirsty mouth. The final tremors of her orgasm subsided and then, reluctantly, she let him plop out and she sat back on her heels.



She looked up at him and saw the now familiar mixed gaze of wonder, satisfaction and disgust. These Northern men couldn’t understand how she could abase herself like this. Their proud women apparently never wasted an opportunity to get pregnant, so dangerous their births. Medicine here lacked the knowledge her people had procured over thousands of years of civilization.



When the merchant left her there, on the floor still kneeling, his sperm slowly drying on her face, Talia rose, and dressed. Not in the gauze, but in armor. She exchanged her jewels for steel, and her silk for studded leather.



Garbed as a warrior she slid her twin blades out of their scabbards to check the blades for any marks.



There were none, she kept very, very good care of her blades.



When she was ready to leave, having gathered the coins in a pouch, Talia finally wiped the mess from her face, and the greatest swordswoman in the North left the room of her humiliation. Her fame as Talia the sword for hire far outstripped the growing fame of Dancer the Woman of Wonder, for now, but Dancer was becoming very well known, even if nearly impossible to find.



The Dancer only danced when she wanted to, and only took to her bed those whom she chose. Somehow anyone who ever sought harm against her was found dead and she vanished. The legend was growing.



None saw either The Dancer or the grim faced warrior leave the building; she was a Shadow Dancer they said, a Mistress of the Dark who changed her appearance at will, and gathered Shadows to do her bidding.



However it was done she slipped into the night before any thought to knock on the door to see to the Dancer’s needs.



Two famous women, both enigmas, both dangerous, and desirable, both the same woman.

I was bent over on my belly on the conference table and the hunky blond attorney was riding me hard from behind. I still had on my tie; my shirt, unbuttoned; and my shoes and socks clipped to supporters wound just below my knees. But otherwise I was naked. He started a maddening rotation of his cock inside me, and I was giving little urping sounds. To let the others see the pain and ecstasy this master cocking brought to my facial expression, he pulled my head up by pulling on my tie, which he had spun around to my back to give him reins for his hot ride of my ass. All the time he was telling me what a hot performer I’d be in his nightclub act. My own boss and the two Japanese businessmen were sitting there, mesmerized by the exhibition the blond and I were putting on, their hands in their laps, working their own meat. The blond released the tie and his hands went to holding my hips still as he stroked hard in and out of me. I could feel his gold cock ring kissing the sides of my inner canal as he pumped me.





The golden blond was telling me what a good fuck I was, that he wanted to have more of me. He was asking me how I was enjoying the ride, and I was panting and groaning my approval of his eight inches working hard inside me.



My boss rose from the table, engorged cock in hand, and came over and tweaked one of my nipples while he kissed the blond deeply. Then he told the blond that it was time for the Japanese businessmen to take over with me and that he wanted the blond’s cock in his own ass now.



The blond withdrew from me, the Japanese businessmen already eagerly standing in line behind him, and a large cock was exchanged for a medium-sized one, which, however, was more active and inventive in its exploration of my ass; the other Japanese businessman knelt between me and the table and started playing my cock and balls like a flute with his sensitive mouth.



The blond had planted my boss on his back across the narrow conference table from me, and my boss and I engaged in deep kissing and exploration of each other’s torsos with our hands, as the blond spread my boss’s legs and plowed into his ass. I lifted my head up from my boss’s as the blond brutally entered him, and I held my boss’s head between my hands, both of us connecting on what was happening in our asses with a variety of expressions on our faces.



When the Japanese and their blond attorney were finished sealing our multimillion dollar deal, they left my boss and me there on the table, consoling and rejoicing in each other and at our success at and on the conference table.



In parting, the golden blond came back to me and gave me a kiss. He flipped a business card out and said that I should visit his nightclub for the experience of my life; that the card would give me a free pass and free drinks. And that he would throw in another wild, free fuck as well if I was interested.



Try as I might I couldn’t get the blond out of my mind. He had ridden me hard, but he hadn’t finished me off. I developed an obsession that he finish me off, that I feel the explosion and bathing of that eight-inch ring-headed cock of his deep inside me.



* * *



Three nights later, the blond’s business card in hand, I was standing at the dimly lit walk-down wooden door under the iron porch above of a brownstone on a dark street. Only the blinking sign announcing “Club Pan” beside the door assured me I was in the right place. At my ringing of the bell, the door opened just a crack, but enough for me to show the business card, with the scrawl of the blond across it. Then the door opened enough for me to slip through, but then it shut again with a solid, final sound. The vestibule was dark, black drapery on black walls, ceiling, and floor. The half man who admitted me was also dark.



I say half man, because he was togged out as a wood nymph, or a satyr, or whatever they call those horned men with the legs and feet of a goat. This one was slender as a reed, with black curly hair, a small goatee, little pointed horns above his temples, black eyebrows curled up at the ends, and an interesting array of black tattooing on his naked torso. The most prominent of these, as I could see when he turned to guide me beyond a beaded curtain into a large step-down, smoke-filled room, was a chain of interlocked heart shapes descending from this hair line at the back of his head down to where the goat’s pelt started just above his crack at the bottom of the small of his back. His legs, as I already indicated, were pelted like a brown goat’s, and his feet coverings were made out like cloven hooves. Most distinctly though was that his cock and balls hung free and there was a circular opening in the pelt at his rear where his asshole lurked.



The nymph swished his tail saucily as he guided me through the dim, smoky room to one of four long bars by the back walls on either side of what looked like a small diner theater, with three tiers of descending levels going down to a circular stage in the center. Everything was black. The bars were black, the carpets and walls and ceiling were black, and the couches set around on the descending tiers, more like the lounges in those Roman banquet movies, were also covered in black material. Even the stage was black; it was square but had a round, revolving platform set into it. And standing up from this platform was an eight- or nine-foot high, widely spread X-shaped apparatus, with the cross-over set so that the upper portion of the apparatus was larger than the bottom. This was made out of some sort of transparent Lucite-type material. Near the four corners of the stage were poles made out of the same transparent material that went up to the ceiling. The poles were some sort of hollow tube filled with a liquid in which glittery gold confetti floated.



The theater was dark, although I could hear the sound of moaning and activity that told me that something was happening down on those lounges on the descending tiers—and as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I could see that there were pairings and small groups of men dotted here and there, becoming very well acquainted with each other. It must have been early, however, as the theater was only about a fourth full of these fully occupied patrons.



The nymph whispered something to the bartender, yet another satyr, but a larger version than the young man who had admitted me to the club—indeed all of those serving the patrons were decked out in the same motif. The younger man pointed to the business card that I carried and then told me I could order anything I wanted—that the bartender was at my beck and call. That was very nice to hear, I thought, as I checked out the very presentable, broadly smiling bartender, not leaving out a peek over the bar at what he was packing between his legs. There was nothing there for him to be ashamed of.



As I sat back and drank my first drink and observed the atmosphere, I saw that activity had started down on the stage. The four poles now were occupied by male dancers—all young, lithe nymphs just like the door keeper.



Strobing white lights started to work the room, and I now was getting a sparkly feeling of glitter everywhere. That’s when I noticed the decor of the room. Cylinders of glittery gold hung on wires above the stage area in thick profusion, and as the lights strobed, they bounced off the glittery gold sparkles and brought the arena to life. I noticed then that the lights were picking up glitterings on the tiers down to the stage as well—just here and there, but enough to make my eyes dart around the room, increasingly picking out very intimate embraces and activity going on at the lounges.



A few of the glittering cylinders were on the floor of the stage, and I assumed that they had fallen from the wires. But I felt a chill and a tinkling sensation going down my spine as I realized otherwise. From the third tier in front of me, my eye caught a naked figure rise from one of the lounges and I caught the bounce of strobe light off gold glitter as he glided down to the stage and came up with one of the gold glittery cylinders and threw it down on the stage floor. Condoms. These were glittery gold condoms. Used condoms, merging the activity in the audience with the entertainment on the stage. The club’s decoration was both evocative and functional. I watched in awe as the figure pulled another cylinder off a wire hanging down toward the stage and glided back up to the third tier, no doubt for another round of pleasure.



Four beefy satyrs had arrived on the stage now and were cuffing the pole dancers who had preceded them to the poles and, one muscled satyr to one lithe pole-dancing nymph, were beginning to perform a duet of love dance for the patrons. Each of the muscled satyrs was outfitted with a glittery gold condom.



The club was beginning to fill up now, and all of the patrons I saw coming in were handsome and well built. The club has developed a winning clientele. The performers on stage were turning me on. Already one of the beefy satyrs had filled his glittering condom and had thrown it to the floor and was pulling another one down from an overhead hanger and sliding it on his hard, curved up tool. He quickly was ready to resume his dance with the younger nymph, who was contorting his body around the pole, seeking a new and interesting position to be taken by his partner. All of this for the enjoyment of those in the audience, most of whom were so absorbed in filling out their own glittery tubes to give full attention to the floor show.



I felt my tool pushing against the fabric of my trousers, and I reached down to stroke myself, only to find that I’d been so absorbed in the atmosphere around me that I hadn’t notice there already was a hand there. I turned to see a nice, square-jawed face with bedroom eyes. But I only caught a glimpse of the man who had taken interest in me when the bartender said something gruff to him and he was gone. I was a little annoyed, because I hadn’t asked the bartender to run interference for me.



And I was about to say something to him, when the lights went brighter on the stage and the heart-stopping golden blond who had invited me here appeared. He was decked out in leather, but it was all of a glittery gold color, from the chain criss-crossing his chest, to the boots, and arm bands, and a riding crop with a billy club-like handle—but no other body attire except for the glittery gold condom trying its best to cover his eight inches of horse-hung meat.



He walked the four corners of the stage briefly, flicking bottoms here and there with his riding crop and inserting hands into this and that undulating position, and then he came in front of the revolving transparent X apparatus and spread his arms wide, muscles rippling in the strobe lights, and all action on the stage stopped in mid fuck.



“Do we have a volunteer this evening, gentlemen?” he asked the now-filled house in a booming voice.



The strobe lights revolved wildly around the theater and then all merged—on me.



Before I had time to react in any way, I was being bustled down to the stage by my babysitting bartender and a few of the other club satyrs and was finding that the transparent X apparatus had cuffs on it that, when I was trussed up, stretched my arms and legs out wide and securely in place.



I had become a focal point for the floor show. For the next half hour or more, as the satyrs returned to pole fucking the nymphs and the well-used glittery condoms from the audience and the corners of the stage continued to build up on the floor of the stage, the blond god teased and tormented me. He prodded and pinched and kissed and tongued me endlessly and to distraction, as I revolved around the arena, cuffed to that transparent X. He flicked me with his riding crop and applied love slaps to my butt and hips and thighs and chest. He twisted and pulled at my nipples and balls until I screamed my awareness of the sensual cruelty in him. And then he fucked me with the greased butt end of his riding crop, stretching and preparing me for his even longer and thicker gold-glittered tool. All the time I was revolving, giving the club patrons a look at the glorious torment from all angles, writhing and bucking with and against the butt end of the riding crop, testing the rock-solid holding strength of the X apparatus.



The tiers running up from where I was being displayed were a teaming mass of undulating bodies and young, naked men descending to the stage and tossing their offerings of spent glittery gold condoms at my feet and then grabbing a replacement off the handing wires and remerging with the slithering pile of man flesh stretched around the room.



The golden god was behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, and his glitter gold cock slapping on my butt cheeks and working its way up and down across the puckered, moist rim of my asshole as he stroked up and down inside my butt crack. The bulging head of his dick came ever lower as he stroked up and down inside my crack, with each stroke now more centered at my hole, until with one long stroke he entered me deeply, strongly, and painfully. I lifted my head and howled to the ceiling and a cheer went up around the theater.



There was more of a hush now, much of the attention on the blond god and me rather than on each other, as two the satyrs left tormenting their nymphs and uncuffed my legs and held them higher and stretched out more as the blond relentlessly pumped my hole with long, deep thrusts, giving all in the audience a good view of my plowing as the stage revolved slowly around and around.



I was not shy in voicing being well fucked, and another cheer went up as my ejaculate shot out across the dozens of glittery-gold used condoms littering the stage below me.



The golden god also yelled his delight and joy when he had cum deep inside me, and he swiftly parted from me and jerked off his spent condom and tossed it out into a roaring audience. Then he strutted around the stage, flicking the poled nymphs playfully with his riding crop as, one after the other, the four muscled satyrs plowed me and added their glittery gold condoms to the offerings at my feet.



When they had done with me, my wrists were uncuffed. But then I was pushed to my knees, with my heaving chest forced into the V of the X apparatus, and my wrists were cuffed again at a lower position. The blond then presented his cock to me, me knelt on one side of the X and he standing at the other side, and I sucked him to life again as the stage continued its endless revolutions to show the entire audience the full effect.



When he was once more in engorged full-eight-inch fucking form, I was uncuffed and simply sank to the floor, exhausted. But once more the golden god’s tool was adorned with glittering gold and he took me one last time on the floor at the base of the X apparatus. He fucked down into me deeply and strongly as I lay whimpering and moaning on my belly on a pile of used glittery gold condoms on the revolving stage—loving every golden stroke he took.

The second of five stories written for Phoenix, the great love of my life. Drawn from our own experiences, and her complex, beautiful, wicked imagination.



————————————————-



Villa in Bali, deep in the jungle. In the sun room: surrounded by



lustrous brown teak, the sunlight slanting through the leaves



overhead…



We are here. Naked as Eve, in what may as well be the garden of Eden, for our ceremony.



A ritual, not for the benefit of society, but ours alone.



Slowly, delicately, with infinite patience, I apply the henna to your skin. Your miraculous skin, the customary rose-tipped cream coloration now tinted with a hint of cinnamon from the tropical sun, and lightly sheened with sweet sweat…



Delicate patterns take shape under my hand…. vines spiral up your arms, bloom on the backs of your hands, trace your long, tapering fingers. They twine up your elegant throat and burst into flower on your face, trace the dramatic sweep of your high cheekbones…. and as the hours go by, caress the curves of your back and your incomparable ass.



You quiver with pleasure at the delicate, deliberate, careful probing of my brush, but dare not move for fear of smearing our creation…. I, too must concentrate solely on my sacred task, in spite of my obvious arousal…. The vines continue, augmenting the breathtaking length of your magnificent, flawless legs, delicately garlanding your ankles, and each of your toes.



Then up, in from your hipbones, and rising: a rampant dragon clawing at the sky in ecstasy, as her fiery breath scorches the air. Lastly I adorn your shoulder blades and back with her great bejeweled wings….



Now the work is complete, and it’s your turn… but there is something you must do, first.



You begin to shave me…. carefully, with tremendous concentration, and for good reason, for the implement you are using is no common safety razor…but a great ceremonial kris, with an ornate handle decorated with beautiful patterns of shell, and a blade of obsidian, sharpened to a nearly translucent edge for this very purpose… You scrape the oil from my glistening body, and the hair comes away, easily, leaving smooth skin behind, a blank canvas awaiting your own art.



My chest, shoulders, arms, back, nipples…. then down to my buttocks, legs…. and back up to the junction of my legs and pubis. I could not be more vulnerable and exposed, but in spite of this I am almost painfully aroused. You oil my balls, my aching sex, grasping it with both hands, squeezing and twisting, and a single crystalline drop appears at the tip. You flick it away with your tongue, without touching me, and proceed to shave everything, the underside of the pulsing organ, the full to bursting orbs, the smooth frenum, the valley below. For the first time in my adult life I am truly as naked as the day I was born.



Then you take me outside in the sun, by the jungle pool and its



purling waterfall, and lave me with a sponge, washing me clean. And your real work begins… you take up the brush, and I watch in wonder as: a spiraling, tapering shaft is drawn from my bellybutton to my sternum… and a form: a unicorn, rising from my pubis.



Lastly, you crown my shoulders with his sweeping angel wings.



Then, taking up a small baton, you strike the first of the the chakra chimes at your side, and begin a chant. Ever so carefully, as not to disturb the patterns still drying on our skins, you crouch over my sitting form and lower yourself onto my sex, slowly, deliciously, sliding down, but stopping short of the base with exquisite control.



You strike the second chime, and your song climbs higher, ancient words I know not the meaning of, but for the images and feelings that start to swirl in my head. Another chime, and another. Your voice rises higher and higher.



And now my head itself rings like a beaten gong with the heat, and your song, and the sensation, and time lose all meaning. We seem to rise above our bodies, high above the earth, one with the sun, becoming only expanding awareness, encompassing all creation…



As your song descends, so does the sun, finally coming to rest in my groin… I come back to my body and open my eyes, meeting your level, kind, compassionate gaze. Your eyes glow, and are seemingly twice their normal size – hypnotic… An enormous, black and brilliant blue butterfly has landed on your shoulder, and rests, wings slowly beating. The patterns on its wings mirror your eyes.



You rise, smoothly disengaging from me with a long drawn-out sigh, and turn to the sparkling green pool. After a moment of contemplating your reflection, you plunge in… then surface, the water streaming from your lean, streamlined, hydrodynamic body as you turn to look at me over your shoulder… smiling coyly. Clearly, inviting me in.



In spite of my prolonged immobility I am energized. Hearing your laughter, I plunge in after you. Catching hold of you, I pull you down for an underwater kiss… that seems to go on forever… then we break the surface, gasping for air. You lead me under the waterfall, and we tenderly rinse the henna from each other’s bodies.



You turn your face up to the cascading water, your back to me as my hands freely roam your body…. my cock rises between your legs as I reach under the water and find you already wet. I delicately massage your clitoris as I slip into you…. your lovely neck arches back as you turn to kiss me. The water drenches both of us, splashing and streaming off of our faces, spilling into our mouths and over our entwined bodies…. The sound of your breathing, the splashing of the water, your cries mingling with those of the birds and echoing off the rock faces around us, as you reach your climax…. it all sets me off, finally, and I drench the walls of your own grotto with spurt after spurt of my hot life.



The sacrifice made, you fall back into the water and float, cradled in my arms, as the sun goes down.



Aeons later, It is night. In the house, we realize we are hungry, and sit down to eat. After, we light candles and sandalwood, and,



sprawling across sumptuous cushions, feed each other dessert.



Mango. Fresh coconut. We separate the pieces with a blade, and our fingers, and pass them from mouth to mouth. Tasting one, then the other, the textures mingling. The juices spill and we follow them, down. Then, further. Our mouths tracing the elaborate patterns etched on each others bodies.



I kiss my way down your taut belly to the planes of your hipbones, the slope of them leading me inexorably to your mons…. I inhale, first, savoring the delicate fragrance, then exhale, stirring the fine down above it. You stretch, yearn, wriggle, the small, sweet lips opening slightly to me. I can resist no longer.



I descend, first exploring the contours around the mound with my nose, then taking it whole in my mouth…. parting your lips with mine, and tracing the slit with my tongue. I feel the sweet, slippery, buttery texture of it, and know you are ready for what comes next.



I pull you over my face… now you are above me, and I prop my head up with a pillow… this is going to take a while. I begin to explore you in earnest…. first, penetrating your delicious canal to the limit of the reach of my tongue, then above, to the rim of your tight, sweet, clean anus, lubricating it with my saliva and your own juices. I feel you engulfing me in your mouth… and inserting… something…. into my own anus….



a point, at first, widening to a ring, stretching me,



becoming almost unbearable… with an effort of will, I relax,



accepting, loving, trusting you…. at the height of the pain it



overcomes the tight, resisting flesh and pops in…. I sigh with



pleasure and relief, but none is in sight…. the stretching begins



anew, bigger this time, and when I can no longer bear it, is relieved again.



The cycle continues, each ring unpredictably bigger and smaller, until I am full. And you begin to slowly work my cock in and out of your beautiful throat, no mean feat – as it is nearing the limit of its uncommonly large size.



I produce a string of ebon beads, the dark wood catching glints from the candlelight, and work it one bead at a time into your taut anal opening. I begin sucking you fervently now, pulling your labia into my mouth and working them in and out, all the while delicately flicking my tongue back and forth across your clitoris…



I hear you crest and moan, the deep vibration of your larynx swelling my convulsing cock to yet greater size, drawing the eruption from deep with in me like molten lava… I pull the cord out of you as you come, the beads popping out one by one, the cries ripped out of you by your own orgasm, choked and muffled by my thick, surging column as I burst directly down your throat, into your belly…



Then I flip you over and regard you, flushed, panting, gasping,



beautiful, magnificent, still coming… I take your head in my hands and kiss you, passionately, tasting me on you, my cock still hard, feeling the object, too, hard within me. I plunge into you and feel your endless legs close on me, surging, urging, riding…. you reach around and work the toy in and out of me, and we are one, it is impossible to tell who is man, woman, who is penetrating who, we are one creature…



I am dimly aware of the gleam of curious animal eyes



in the darkness, drawn by the sound and smell of our lovemaking, mute witnesses to the dawn of the creation of consciousness itself. You pull it out of me and I too withdraw, coming again, this time covering the capering form I drew on your belly with my issue, consecrating it, blessing it, bringing it to life…

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