Authors: Lexi Duval
Before the convulsions die down, with my eyes closed and
my entire being unaware of anything but the pleasure between my
thighs, I suddenly feel the shape of a large dick enter me.
I open my eyes, my entire body shimmering, and look up
to see him, pants down, cock sliding inside my gaping hole. He leans
back, shirt still on, abs clenching, and delivers the first of many
pulsating blows.
I'm so wet that he slides right in, despite his
considerable size and girth. I feel him fill me up, penetrate deep
and hard and with a long breath of pleasure rolling out from behind
his mask.
Then he slides back out, quickly leaving me hollow once
more, before thrusting again, slightly harder, slightly more
forcefully. But, every time, my body reacts with the rhythms of a
continual orgasm that shows no signs of going away.
I lie back, and feel my skirt now ripped off. It's
thrown aside, torn and frayed, as his mouth and tongue once again
descend into me. As I start to get used to the more delicate motion
of his lips, however, he's up again, sticking me hard, and bearing
his weight down onto me on the bed.
I can hear his breathing now as he pumps at my pussy,
heavy and lustful and without restraint. Small groans fall out of
him, joining my larger moans of pure delirium.
I slide my hands inside his open shirt, my fingers
running along his chest and abs and behind his back, scratching and
digging in to get a grip as he pummels me harder and harder.
He grabs at my bra, pulling the cups down so that my
breasts pop out. He leans down, his tongue zipping from beneath the
mask, sliding out of a square jaw dusted with black stubble.
He licks at my nipples, runs his fingers across my body
as his groin continues to thrust and pulse inside me. I want to grab
his face, pull him toward me, remove the mask and kiss him deep.
But I don't. I was told never to remove the guy's mask,
never to kiss him on the lips unless he did so to me.
So I just lie back, let him take control and keep me in
the state of paradise that I'm in. Let him lick and touch and pump me
deep. Let him explore my body, salivating as he begins to lose
control, letting the carnal beast inside him roam free.
That beast is even better than Brett.
He's more forceful, fucks me harder and the way I like
it. He fills me to overflowing, then leaves me bare. He devours my
pussy with his mouth, lets my pussy devour his cock, shifting from
one to the next before my body can settle.
By the time he's lifting me up off the bed, I can hardly
stand, my legs are so wired, so shaky, my entire body tremulous.
He drops onto the bed, his big cock standing up in front
of me, raised to attention, ready to impale me. But first, I slide it
up and into my mouth. I climb onto the bed, grip the shaft, wet with
my juice, and send as much of it as I can between my lips and toward
my throat.
I suck so deep I gag, gargling his dick at the back of
my throat and quickly pulling back. I watch as his mouth opens,
tongue dangling out of it, legs shimmering to my lefts and right as
they sweat and shake.
He's going to come soon. I can feel it. The extra
movement of his legs, the tensing of his muscles, the heavy breathing
and pulsing of his heart.
I prolong his agony, as he did mine, and climb up onto
him, lowing my pussy down onto his cock and straddling him like a
horse. I ride slow, at first, arching my back and pulling my ass up
and down so that I slip the entire length of his cock out of me, and
then slowly swallow it up again.
Soon, however, I quicken my pace, pumping harder,
faster, bobbing my ass up and down, slapping against his thighs as
the bed shakes and the entire rooms starts to swim in front of my
eyes.
It's too much for him to bear. He grips me either side
of my ass, takes control again, and pumps even harder. His movements
start to turn erratic, but he maintains enough control to lift me off
him at the right moment.
To my surprise, he turns me over, lying flat on my
front, and slips his dick inside me from behind. Then he keeps
pumping, keeps of going, and just when I thought he was about to
come, he's taking charge again.
It doesn't last long, though, and I suspect he wanted to
come in this position.
With the new angle of his dick bringing me to orgasm
again, he pumps so hard, slapping his groin against my ass, that I
scream with delight and feel my body return to the lofty position of
an amazing climax.
And just I'm overtaken my the whims of my body again, I
feel him pull out of me and shoot his warm goo all over my lower
back, hitting my soft, sweaty skin with several powerful bursts as
his balls are emptied out.
And lying there, with my shirt still on, riding up my
back, and my tits hanging out of my bra, I feel like I must have been
premature last time in thinking Brett would be the best fuck of my
life.
Because this guy was even better.
Chapter Three
My mind still slightly in a whirl, I twist on the bed,
feel the warm come dribble down my back, and stand up. Naked from the
waist down, I pull the cups of my bra back over my breasts and feel
my shirt fall down over my lower back, soaking up the man's
discharge.
And then something completely unexpected happens.
As I'm pulling my panties back up and looking at my torn
skirt on the floor, wondering whether it's still wearable, I see, out
of the corner of my eye, the guy slowly removing his mask.
The movement draws my attention, and I turn to see a
gorgeous face revealed. Eyes shine in the dim, romantic light with a
mixture of green and blue. Dark brown hair, shortly cut at the sides
and longer on top, frames his head. His cheekbones look so sharp they
could cut glass, his jaw so strong and stoney it could withstand a
barrage from Tyson.
He smiles, his eyes looking alert and alive, but with a
hint of carnal exhaustion, and speaks, his voice low, sexy, and with
a slightly gruff edge to it.
“
Wow, you're just as good as I'd hoped.”
And as I'm wondering what he means, something else
happens, even more unexpected.
The room changes.
The walls lose their reflection, the glass turning
suddenly clear and see through like a regular window pane. I look out
to see large, comfortable leather chairs set up, facing the room.
Blood red booths run along the walls beyond, and I see two bars, one
on either side of the room, both with marble counter tops and stocked
with various spirits behind.
The lighting is moody, as in the show room I'm in now,
and has the feel of a jazz club. Only the stage in the middle isn't
fitted with musical instruments and a band, but only a bed and two
half naked people.
But the most striking feature isn't the layout of the
bar, but its contents. Or, lack thereof.
Because outside of the show room there are no people. No
one at all. Not a single person watching. Not a single waiter serving
drinks. The only people here are me and the man who's just taken off
his mask.
With a confusion settling inside me, I turn to the guy
and see that he's not sharing the same expression. He looks at me
with a smile on his face and the sort of slant of his eyes that
suggests he knows exactly what's going on.
“
You look confused, Ashley,” he says, the mention of
my name making me feel even stranger as I don't know his.
“
Um...I am. Do you know what's happening? Why is no
one watching?”
“
Because this wasn't a public show. This was private.
It was only for me.”
And now I'm even more confused.
“
What do you mean? Randall said it was a show.”
“
And he was right. But a show without an audience.
Randall Taylor caters to his client's needs, Ashley. And I'm one of
his major clients.”
I lose my breath for a moment, suddenly feeling more
naked than if I'd lost my clothes again.
Who is this guy? A client? That makes no sense.
“
I thought the clients only watched?” I say. “
You're
a client?”
I repeat it again, needing confirmation. The guy looks
nothing like the sort of man I'd expect to be watching me from
outside. He's nigh on perfect. Young, handsome, tall, muscular and
strong.
And, clearly, rich as well.
He nods.
“
I am a client, yes. And you're right, we only usually
watch. But, sometimes, we just can't help ourselves.”
A devilish smile crosses his lips.
“
Now, Ashley, let me explain this to you further. But,
not like this.” He references our semi nude states.
“
Go and get washed up, change, and meet me at the
front of the building in 30 minutes. I'll be waiting for you there.”
He smiles again, turns, and disappears through the door
at the other end of the room leaving me completely in the dark about
what the hell is going on.
I gather my torn dress, button up my shirt, the bottom
quickly sticking to my semen covered skin, and escape down the
corridor and into my dressing room. Thankfully, it's empty, Charlotte
and Matilda now absent. The idea of them seeing my post coital state
isn't a nice one.
I quickly shower, washing the guy's fluids off my body
along with all of the sweat and other bodily secretions that cover my
skin, and quickly get dressed into the jeans and light summer sweater
I was wearing on arrival.
I quickly make sure my hair looks OK, tie up up in a
ponytail, and apply some regular make up. One final look in the
mirror tells me I look nothing like the girl who just walked into the
show room to have sex. I look far more natural now and, to my own
tastes, much nicer.
With the 30 minutes about to expire, I beat a hasty
retreat and escape into the warm summer sunshine to find the guy
standing outside in a razor sharp suit and smoking casually on a
cigarillo.
His eyes lift to mine as I come down the steps and meet
him on the sidewalk, and he takes my hand and kisses it gently. It's
a strange sensation meeting a guy for the first time when they've
already fucked you to heaven and back.
“
Ashley, my name is Grayson, or Gray for short. It's
nice to meet you officially.”
“
Um, thanks. You too, Grayson.”
“
Please, my friends call me Gray. After what we just
did, I think it's fair to say we've crossed that line.”
He begins walking toward the road, ushering me across in
the direction of Central Park.
“
Now, let me explain what's going on here for you. I
think you deserve that much.”
I stay quiet, and let him speak, walking side by side
with him through the warm sunshine as we reach the park, filled with
joggers and dog walkers and sunbathers enjoying the final moments of
evening light.
“
The reason it was me in the the show room tonight is
simply because I find you irresistible.”
His words catch me off guard.
“
Me? Really?”
“
Perhaps you don't realize it, Ashley, but you're not
only a stunning young woman but you're a sensational fuck. I watched
you the other day and, well, I needed to experience you for myself. I
don't want to speak too loudly about this in public, but I've never
tasted anyone quite so delicious as you.”
I've had these sorts of compliments before, usually from
guys just telling me I'm the best fuck they've ever had. They never
tell me it in quite such terms as Gray is going now, though. It's
enough to make me blush a little and duck my head out of
embarrassment.
“
I wanted to experience you just as you were the other
night. You needed to think that it was still a public show, that
there was an audience on the other side of the glass walls. It was
all about repeating the same conditions so I could see just how you'd
perform with me first hand.”
“
And, did I live up to your expectations?” I ask,
growing in confidence.
His smile and intense intake of breath tell me all I
need to know. But he tells me anyway.
“
You were spectacular. Like I've told you, I've never
had better.”
“
Neither have I,” I say quickly.
“
Really?”
He seems surprised, perhaps thinking that I've done this
a hundred times with plenty of other guys.
“
Yes.”
Our eyes meet in a moment of attraction and something
inside me sparks. I only wish I could have slept with him in private
now, with the knowledge that we were alone, and without the mask
covering his beautiful eyes.
We keep walking through the beautiful park, the sun
starting to set, the world growing dimmer and more magical with each
minute that passes. Yet, strangely, there's no awkwardness between
us. Not the sort you'd expect in such circumstances.
I feel natural with him, comfortable and confident
beyond all expectations.