The Diamond Club (4 page)

Jason wound down the privacy class between passenger and drivers compartment and started to move the car down the road, I could feel him looking at me in the mirror. I like the feeling of being watched. I slowly uncrossed and crossed my legs, I think they call it the Sharon Stone.

After driving about 500 yards Jason turned the Limousine into an underground car park, he used a security access card to get into the garage and drove all the way to the back corner of the garage and switch off all of the external lights, If there was any doubt before about what the payment was, it clear as day now.

My driver moved down the car and opened the back door, I noticed he had a bottle of bubbly in his hand as he deftly climbed in. French by the look of it… There were glistening beads of moisture running down the bottle, cold french champagne in the back of a limo, at least he was doing it right.

Jason efficiently popped the cork and grabbed two glasses from the limousines cabinet and filled them to the brim.

I was still feeling the effects of whatever alcohol and drugs that had last evening but I couldn’t refuse. The Champagne was sweet yet bitter all at once. I skulled the whole glass, no point going in half-cocked.

Jason looked into my eye’s “So why should I go out of my way to get you to where you need to go, what’s in it for me?” I looked deep into his eye’s and moved onto my knees in front of him. I moved my hand to his knee and let my fingers creep up to where there was an ever growing bulge in his tightly tailored suit pants.

Jason leaned forward , softly kissing me on the neck, his tounge traced a line up to my ear where he placed another kiss, he ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my head and followed as I moved my head down to his crotch.

He panicked and fumbled for a second and with his belt and zip. He was trying to make it looked like this was going to his plan, but really he could not quite believe what was happening to him he wanted to look like he was in charge, he wanted to feel like he had all the power but I knew deep down, that I had the power.

I always have the power, I know that really I am always the one in charge no matter who has the money, no matter who has the keys, no matter who has the name on the sign. When it comes down to the point when the man has his pants down. I am in charge.

I took his engorged cock into my mouth, I tasted his pre-come on my lips, I ran my tongue from the head down the long shaft. I gently moved up and down sucking my drivers cock, gently caressing his balls like I have done many times in the past weeks.

He ran his hands down the back of my neck across my back and unzipped my dress, he gently rubbed my shoulders and moved one hand to my breast tweaking my nipple just a little, just a little too hard, but I enjoyed it. I always enjoy it.

I can feel my wetness growing, the warmth in my tummy as it moves down to my pussy. I tried to tell myself that this was his idea, but deep down I knew from the moment I tapped on the window and poked my tit’s into his face, this was the way this morning was going to turn out.

Jason slid my dress down over my hips. At this point I realised I had somehow lost my G-string as well….. How does someone lose a G-string and not realise? I thought to myself. My mind was wondering while I was still sucking cock. Suddenly Jason forcefully grabbed my hair pulling me off his cock. He pushed my onto my back sprawled across the leather and swiftly maneuvered himself to be between my legs. He glared into my eye’s with a new found passion and swiftly removed his shirt and tie.

He was actually was quite well built I noticed for the first time, not superfit that just nicely solid with a hint of a little tummy.

Every woman always dreams of a superfit Adonis of a man but truth be told this is what we end up with and are pretend we are happy with it. Reasonably fit but no sixpack.

Once again, i just close my eyes and imagine my Adonis.

Jason thrusts his hips forward, forcing my knees further apart, pushing this throbbing cock against my wet outer lips. There was going to be no resistance, I was soaking and hot for cock, he pushed his bulging head against my clit and moved it slowly down until it disappeared into my velvet lips. His cock whilst not enormous compared to some, had some girth, and slowly, slowly slowly inched its way into my wetness.

Jason moved a hand from my hip and licked his thumb and moved it down to my cunt. With each small thrust, he circled my clit with the wet digit. The slow pulse of his thrusting cock, the painful pleasure of my massaged clit and the champagne bubbles coursing through my system was enough to bring me to a sudden climax. I felt the wetness gush over his cock and down his leg.

He suddenly grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and in one fast movement pulled out of me and spun me over and entered me from behind. The shock of it happening so fast, he buried his cock all the way to the hilt with the very first push which pushed me over the edge once again. Jason was suddenly fucking me like a man possessed. This feeling of being taken from behind, each push slamming his pelvic bone into my cunt, his fingers frantically working at my clit, grabbing my tit, squeezing my nipples and slamming again again again. I feel my sweat running all over the leather.

He slows momentarily while he uses his finger to scoop the juices from cunt, then while using his other hand to hold me down onto the seat he swiftly lubes his cock, my arse and slides into my darkened hole. I wince in pain as he pushes into my surprised arsehole. He quickly takes up his fast paced motion courteous enough insert his thumb into my cunt and use his fingers against my clit to bring me to climax for a third time. The clench of my muscular arse is too much for him, I felt his body stiffen, I knew from much experience that he was filling my arse with his seed.

He stopped a few doors down from my house, and came to the back of the car to open the door. “There is no ladylike way to exit a limousine” Jason states as I attempt to eloquently remove myself from the vehicle.

I give him a quick peck on the cheek, a cheeky wink and a “Thanks for the ride honey” as I disappeared into the dark.

It was some weeks later that I learned about the CCTV cameras that Dia Monde had installed in the rear of the Limousine to try to stop drug use in the car.

But that is another story.

No Lights, No Camera, All Action

When I entered The Diamond Club, I instantly felt as if someone was staring me down as walked in. It was an eerie feeling, but I brushed it off as being nothing. At least I tried to. I went and got myself drink and carefully looked around, with the hair standing up on the back of my neck.

That’s when I saw him, he was looking at me, checking me out.

“He’s been eying you ever since you got in, hun.” Dia Monde, the owner of The Diamond Club, quietly told me.

“I had a feeling someone was…” I replied, “He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and tattered jeans. I thought there was a sort of dress code?” I said, eyeing the his ripped arms .

“He’s got a waiver.”

“Oh, so he payed a little extra, I get it.” I took a sip of my brandy, “Thanks for the heads-up!” I said as Dia strolled away. Just like clockwork, the man started to approach me. I attempted to pretend not to notice him until he sat next to me.

“You know, you’re really bad at pretending not to see me,” he smirked.
“Why are you dressed like that? This place has a dress code, you know.” I snapped.
“I just got off set, someone told me this place was happening, and I thought, ‘What the hell?’ and came on in. What’s your story?”

“Off set?”

“Yes. A film set. I’m working on this movie being shot a few miles down the way. Something about an assassination attempt, or something. I don’t know. I just do all the heavy lifting and back breaking work.” He went to take a swig of his drink, and I couldn’t help but have my eyes drawn to his arms again. I’d be lying if I didn’t find this guy attractive; not like there was anyone around here who was that good-looking, tonight.

He reached his hand out, “I’m Vincent. Vincent Bradshaw.” I grabbed his hand and it was one of the firmest handshake I’ve ever had.

“Brianna. Brianna Young.”
He leaned forward, “Well, Ms. Young. It’s a little too public in here. What say we go somewhere a little more…private?”

I finished off my glass of brandy and leaned in toward him, “I think that would be a fine idea.”

We exited The Diamond Club, and started walking down the street, Vincent telling me random things about being on set, and that’s when I noticed clothespins handing off his shirt. It was odd, so I asked.

“These C47s?” he asked, grabbing one of the clothespins, “We use these to attach stuff to the barn doors of lights, among other things.” He pinned one to my blouse, “It’s extremely important to have them on you at all times.”

We stopped walking in a mostly deserted parking lot, in front of one of those moving vans. Vincent went to the back of the truck, opening up the back, put one foot on the step, and held his hand out. I hesitated. He reached around my waist and lifted me up to him, and pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and gave in. I wrapped my arms around his head, grabbing his thick dark hair, passionately kissing him and shoving my tongue down his throat.

He stopped and turned around and lowered the truck’s door, with just enough room so there was enough light to see.

I layed down on what seemed to be a piece of wood on the floor, Vincent grabbed me, lifted me off the wood, and whispered in my ear, “that dolly is somewhat fragile, and we’ll break it.” He spun me and forced me against the wall, and ferociously started kissing my neck, going lower and lower by the second, getting more and more forceful as he went.

I couldn’t take it, I wanted him, now. I pushed him off and took hold of his shirt and ripped it off, sculpted was his chest and abs. He trusted his hands down my skirt and he realized I wasn’t wearing any panties. I reached down and grabbed at his crotch and felt his hard member. As he took his hands from my skirt, I grabbed his belt, ripped it off, and threw it to the side. We heard a crashing sound, as if something broke, but neither of us cared.

He kneeled down, put his head between my legs and thrusted himself upward, sweeping me off my feet, holding me up with his arms and the wall I was leaning against. He reached down and removed his throbbing member from his pants.

He entered me with such force, I let out a scream of passion without sound. He continued, to rock me like I had never been rocked before. The sheer force he exerted sent me wild.

We ended up at my place going all night. When I finally passed out, I remember seeing the sun rise and when I awoke, Vincent wasn’t on the kitchen floor with me. I checked around my entire apartment. The only hint he was even here was all the furniture thrown about, cushions scattered all over the floor, one of my plants toppled over, his boxers hanging from the ceiling fan, and the clothespin clasped on my blouse.

Sizzling Griddles

With my hungry libido satisfied for the evening after my encounter at the Diamond Club, I found myself wandering around the town in the early hours of the morning, surprisingly famished. My striped heels clacked on the warm pavement, calming my mind. I felt confident, cool, and alive. Suddenly, I sniffed in the sweet scent of poignant pancakes, wondrous waffles, and ostentatious omelettes. My nose led me to the local IHOP, a breakfast realm I had not entered before. As I passed through the threshold, I took in the bright colors, the empty tables, and - oh my - the savory greeter behind his post. I scanned his nametag; Michael, it read. Michael’s skin matched the color of perfectly prepared waffles, his eyes held the color of bursting blueberries, and his hair was a gleaming fountain of honey.

“Just one?” he asked me in a voice rough like tweed, but inviting as cotton.

“Yes,” I whispered, tilting my head downward and batting my eyelashes like a schoolgirl.

“Follow me,” he told me, unabashed, leading me to an empty table. He set the menu on the table with such precision and gentleness, I couldn’t help but look at his large hands. They held signs of work, but were lithe like the wings of a moth. He told me he’d be my waiter this morning, and I resisted a small smile at the thought of it. I bit my lip in desire at the sight of his butt as he sauntered away. I checked my emotions and came to the conclusion that I was, in fact, horny. Very horny. Two partners in one night - rarely was I so lucky! I scanned the menu for something appealing, but nothing was as appealing as sex. Michael returned to take my order as I sat up, my back arching already in need.

“Choose anything?” he asked in that sultry voice that got my griddle sizzling.

“Only if your dick is on the on the menu,” I replied with confidence and control.

He took my hint with a deep breath and a glance around the empty restaurant. In a snap crackle pop, his pants were down, my shirt was off, and we were on the table kissing. I could feel his chiseled chest, hotter than a frying pan, on top of me. He slipped his hand in my jeans, feeling his way through my gorge. My mouth broke from his only to moan with pleasure. He hummed as he performed his task, a lullaby to my sexual groans. It was then my turn to pleasure him, bending over the table where he lay. I took his beefy sausage in my mouth and sucked, licked, rubbed, and cleaned my plate. His hot syrup erupted in my mouth and I greedily licked it up - I had never tasted anything better! He lifted me back to the table on all fours and he began to pound his erect whisk into my anal region. Shortly, he switched holes as I lie in content face up on the slippery table. His lovepole was long and strong, and I rubbed my breasts in sync with his incredible thrusts.

My climax was coming, and soon. His nethers kept coming, my legs were open like the Grand Canyon, when all of the sudden my breakfast juices exploded from my lower safety square. He lay back on me, both of our chests heaving in harmony.I gave him one more toasty kiss and dressed myself. I strutted out the store, no longer feeling hungry.

Three-Legged Larry

Patriotic. That’s how I was feeling today. And horny of course. There’s been a lot of that feeling lately, but patriotic was a new one for me. Roman had me searching for inspiring clips from what he referred to as the classic “patriotic” movies. We were planning on theming the site for the upcoming July 4th holiday and he wanted some clips to run on the sidebar. So I spent the day watching the likes of Rocky IV, Independence Day, and American Pie. I tried to explain to him that American Pie wasn’t technically a patriotic movie, it just happened to have “American” in the name, but since when did he listen to my advice when taste or culture was concerned. That’s the domain of the little hussy he’s fucking now and she’s young enough to think of the American Pie franchise like most people think of silent films.