Authors: Georgia le Carre
BJ
I
stand at the curving windows with my back to the party and watch her leave, Jake’s arm curved protectively around her narrow back. Something within the darkest recesses of me whirls loose and flaps noisily in the wind. I had managed to ignore it for this long, but I know I cannot secure it back the way it was. You could say that the old hand is back, knocking at the old door.
I don’t open the door.
My fists clench tight. I’ll find release in another body. It was only a base animalistic reaction. There is nothing special about her. I’ll find a body more suited to my taste and fuck it. A lush, full-figured woman. A pair of hips I can grab while I am ramming into her. Someone who won’t look at me as if I have crawled out of the sewers, as if I make her feel itchy and unclean.
Yet my behavior was rotten. I shouldn’t have given in to my crazy impulse. So unlike me and so fuckin’ foolish.
I turn away from the window. The party is still in full swing, but it is as if all flavor has been sucked out of it. A hand lands on my arm. I look down at it. Oval-shaped nails painted pearlescent, good skin. I let my eyes flow upwards.
Mmmm … tight, yellow dress clinging onto breasts like planets. Well, big enough to feed a small African tribe anyway. I like that. Abundance. That’s what stuck-up, spoilt Layla lacks.
And blonde. Yeah. I’m
very
partial to blonde pussy.
My eyes rise higher up to a plump, slightly sulky mouth. Perfect for sucking cock.
By the time I reach her eyes, it’s a done deal. Cornflower blue, of course. As pretty as flowers and no hint that she sees anything unclean or itchy about the view in front of her.
I vaguely recognize her. The memory is fuzzy, but I think she’s candy from one of Shane’s clubs. I sort of remember flirting with her at the party Jake threw to celebrate the reopening of Eden. However, if I remember correctly, I ended up leaving with another dancer. It occurs to me that I had seen Layla that night too, and she had been rude to me then too. Bitch.
‘Hello,’ Blondie drawls. ‘You went home with the South American dancer the last time.’
I smile, letting it reach all the way up to my eyes. ‘I might have been a bit drunk and my cock might have been waylaid around the corner from you.’
She leans closer. ‘You’re not drunk tonight, are you?’
‘As sober as a saint.’
‘Good. Cause my pussy’s been aching for that great fuck you promised ever since.’
My smile widens. I could do with a dose of random cunt. There is comfort, immense comfort in anonymous curves. ‘I remember you now. You’re the one who can suck cock for days.’
She smiles with satisfaction that I have remembered her. ‘That’s right. I can suck cock like you can’t believe.’
I grab Blondie and, swinging her around, walk her backwards until her back presses against the wall, and she is hidden from the room by my bulk. I slide my hand under her dress and she helpfully spreads her legs. She is not wearing panties. Perfect. My kind of girl. She moans as my fingers part her slippery folds. She is so wet, even I am impressed.
‘What’s this?’ I ask.
‘Tug it and see,’ she suggests.
I tug at the metal stud in her pieced labia.
She wriggles and tilts her pelvis towards me.
I insert a finger into her and slowly fuck her with it.
‘Harder,’ she urges throatily.
I fit another two fingers in and pump her so roughly her body jerks.
‘Yes, yes,’ she encourages fiercely, her eyes glazed with lust.
She’s great, but she won’t be enough. Not tonight. Not when I am this wired. I’ve got too much energy to burn. She’ll be out cold before I’m finished.
‘Listen cupcake, I’m looking for a threesome tonight,’ I whisper in her ear.
‘I have a friend,’ she gasps immediately.
‘Good. Go get her.’ I take my fingers out of her pussy and hold them in front of her mouth. She tilts her head forward and sucks them greedily the way she would a dick, while staring boldly into my eyes. Yup,
definitely
my kind of girl.
My fingers exit her mouth with a wet pop.
I step sideways to let her pass, and watch her truly round and wonderful ass samba as she goes off in search of another body for me. I feel rather pleased with myself. It’s gonna be a goooooood night, after all.
I bring my hand up to my nose and smell it, but she has sucked away the smell of her pussy. All that is left is Layla’s scent, lingering like a rare perfume from a lost garden.
Damn you, Layla Eden. Just damn you.
Her friend is a Rita Hayward look alike, but with flaming copper hair. Obviously another dancer; I can always tell by the confident way they move. Unlike women who don’t use their bodies to earn money, dancers get that their physical form gives them immense power over mere men. She slides up to me sinuously. I swear I have never seen a woman to walk in such a serpentine fashion before. It is actually fascinating to watch. My cock twitches with interest.
‘I have a thing for men with gleaming raven hair,’ she says, stopping less than six inches away from me. The tips of her perky breasts almost touch my abs.
‘Oh yeah?’ Her obvious attraction is a balm after Layla’s unconcealed contempt and disgust.
A knowing smile stretches across her scarlet lips. ‘Yeah. Is it true what they say about you?’
‘I don’t know, what do they say?’
She lays her palms on my chest, stands on tiptoe, and whispers into the side of my neck. ‘That your mama gave you a horse cock.’
I grin slowly.
She puts her hand on my hardening dick, rubs along the length of it through the material and slowly opens her mouth as if she is becoming unbearably sexually stimulated. It is a practiced but highly effective move.
‘Oh! That’s no horse cock. That’s a whole python you have there in your jeans, Mister,’ she teases with a sly smile.
Yeah, she’ll do.
BJ
T
he party is still going strong but I know my housekeeper, Marcel, will see to throwing everybody out when he starts to miss his bed. With a hand resting lightly on the small of each girl’s back, I herd them away from the party and up to the Green Room.
I throw open the door and they enter like frisky lambs to the slaughter. I close the door, hit a switch, and a rotating disco ball with hundreds of colored LEDs comes on. Multi-colored light scatters around the room. I flick another switch and rap music throbs to life, Jason Derulo and Snoop Dogg go, ‘Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.’
The Green Room is the ultimate in bad taste. It has a mirrored ceiling, the largest bed in Britain dressed up with black satin sheets, red embossed wallpaper, a glass-fronted fridge with all manner of drink, and an Aladdin’s showcase of sexual toys. The girls squeal with delight. They know that when something is this fucking bad it has to be good.
‘Want something to drink?’ I ask.
‘No thanks,’ Rita says and Blondie giggles.
‘Get naked then.’
They waste no time. Quickly and expertly they shimmy off the few garments they’re wearing. Blondie has the better body, but Rita’s ass makes my jaw hang. Her flaming copper pubes are trimmed into a heart over the top of her pussy and Blondie is freshly shaven, which kinda makes me think she isn’t a real blonde. In my experience, real blondes generally leave something behind as their badge of authenticity.
As if one mind, the girls gambol over to the showcase of toys. Both know exactly what they want. Rita gets a strap on dildo and Blondie chooses a vibrator and a long leather belt. They walk over to the huge bed with their toys and crawl to the middle of it. Getting on their knees, they face each other. Dappled light flows over their bodies, like they’re creatures from an eighties porn flick.
Blondie leans in and pushes her tongue into Rita’s mouth, her golden flesh pressing against Rita’s pale skin as they deepen their kiss. Then Rita, obviously the stronger character of the two takes over. She breaks the kiss and with a coy glance at me, bends her head and begins sucking Blondie’s red-tinted nipples. Blondie moans. Her hand moves downwards to finger Rita’s pussy.
It’s a cute show. Real cute. My cock hardens, but my heart remains utterly unmoved and cold. I stroll over to the fridge and get a bottle of beer, uncap it on the side of the fridge, take a swig, and turn around to watch the girls.
Rita falls away from Blondie. She lands on the bed on her back and spreads open her creamy alabaster thighs. Blondie immediately dives face first into her flaming muff and starts licking her out. Rita’s pussy must be a juicy thing. From where I stand I can hear the wet sounds of Blondie slurping and licking while Rita mews with pleasure.
I concentrate on Blondie’s beautiful ass. She has it stuck high in the air in a deliberately provocative way with her legs stretched far enough apart to give me a graphic view of her pussy. It’s fucking beautiful. All baby pink and luscious. The stud catches the light and glitters. She bobs her hips suggestively to make it obvious that she is inviting me to fuck her.
I smile inwardly. As if I need an invitation. This is my show, babe.
Then, all of a sudden, unexpectedly and for no good reason I can think of, a black string rudely separating Layla’s salmon-colored folds flashes into my mind. And I remember the heady private smell of her that made me fantasize about grabbing her by the waist and dropping her on my upright dick. The craving to see her securely impaled on my dick had been almost overpowering. Not even Blondie and Rita together could bring forth such an overpowering desire. The thought irritates me.
I’m fucking invincible. I have no chinks in my armor. None.
And I don’t need no stuck-up princess in my life.
I put the bottle on the top of the fridge, undress and stroke my throbbing length as I walk over to the side table. I take out a condom and roll it over my length. I see both Blondie’s and Rita’s eyes excitedly swivel in their heads to watch my inked body and my horse cock.
I kneel on the bed, grab Blondie by her full round hips and fucking bury myself so deep inside her, her head pulls back violently and her shocked mouth emits a strangled cry. Rita’s hands grab Blondie by the hair to guide her mouth back onto her shiny pussy.
I pause. ‘Too hard?’
‘No. She likes it rough,’ Rita says quickly.
Full of Rita’s pussy, Blondie nods her agreement.
That is all I need.
Like a jackhammer I pump my cock balls-deep into Blondie. Her whole body jerks with the force of my thrusts even if her cries are muffled against Rita’s snatch. We keep this up even while Rita climaxes with a howl to wake up the dead. Blondie’s job is clear. It’s licking up Rita’s juices until Rita says otherwise.
One final slam and I explode with a great roar.
I pull out of Blondie’s swollen, thoroughly fucked pussy and immediately Rita’s voice rings out, ‘Suck him.’
No rest for the wicked.
Blondie immediately makes a hundred and eighty degree turn on her hands and knees, her pendulous breasts bouncing. With admirable expertise she peels the condom off my dick with her lips and tongue. Opening her mouth, she takes my semi-hard cock deep into her warm velvety mouth. As she begins the task of sucking it into a full erection, I knot the used rubber and fling it over my shoulder.
Meanwhile, Rita ties on the strap on dildo and roughly plunges it into Blondie. Rita is so brutal I almost feel sorry for Blondie. Although, to give Blondie her due, she never complains or attempts to dislodge my growing dick from her mouth. The bigger I become, the more impressed I become with Blondie’s dedication and skill. Fuck, with Rita slamming into her, I am so deep inside her throat my balls are pressed into her chin, but the girl doesn’t even exhibit a gag reflex.
Instead, incredibly, she is not only moving back and forth along my length, she is also slowly moving her tongue from side to side underneath my dick. It’s like a deeply satisfying and completely sensuous massage. Frothy white streams of pre-cum and spit gather at the corners of her mouth and dribble down her neck.
I throw my head back and look up at the mirror.
It’s fun to watch my dick disappear so completely into a pretty face and I dig the sight our bodies make in the mirror overhead. I am face-fucking Blondie while Rita batters Blondie’s poor pussy. With a grunt of satisfaction I shoot my load directly into Blondie’s stomach.