Epilogue
-Dylan Drake-
Six days later…
Getting caught with my trousers down in this place would be a bad thing.
But that’s what closed doors are for, right?
It’s not like all the cameras can see through wood or the guests at the LGBT+ Awards all have X-ray specs.
And maybe, just maybe, I don’t actually give a shit if they do find me in flagrante.
It would only prove I’m every bit as roguishly wicked as my television counterpart, and viewing audiences do love him. That is, after all, why I’m here.
All right, sensible head on, so maybe while I’m up for LGBT+ Celebrity isn’t the best time to announce there are a couple of things about me that aren’t precisely as advertised.
Like the fact I’m not entirely bent and have in fact recently discovered an obsessive taste for pussy, which also happens to be why I’m having to take five in a store room.
Kira snorts as I push her through a door into the air conditioning cupboard. I’ve trodden the boards in this place before. I learned all its secret places during a two week run of The Judas Kiss. Not once did I get caught in here.
The dry hum of the machinery is exactly how I remember it, as is the flattering buttery orange glow of the lighting.
“Is there some kind of danger I should be aware of?” my paid escort asks. She’s attending tonight’s awards in the guise of my bodyguard as that was a whole lot easier to arrange than her negotiating time off to attend.
Yeah, I’m at a severe risk of passing out due to low blood pressure and my dick’s about to explode.
“You’re driving me crazy. I can’t get through the night like this.
” From the moment she slid into view this evening my cock’s been butting up against my fly threatening to bust its way through the zip.
Okay, so that was only five minutes ago, but the effect this woman has on me is that extreme.
Disbelievingly, she rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Dylan, I don’t know what you think I’ve done.”
I grab hold of her hand and turn it so that it’s pressed over the bulge distorting my fly. “This. You’ve turned me into a walking tripod, that’s what.”
Kira fights to stop her lips quirking up into a smile. “Oh dear, yes, you do seem to have a bit of a problem there.”
A bit! Like I only have a semi, or something, not the sort of raging boner that could probably drill holes through the door shielding us from all the other guests. “I fear it needs urgent care.”
I press into her, savouring her scent as she slides the teeth of my zip apart.
“Then I’d best take a look.”
She smells so damn good, midnight and engine oil… No, not really, but it sounds romantic, and she’s not floral or aggressively spicy like the women I’m paid to fake it with. There’s no faking anything with Kira. She lays me bare.
“Yes, there does seem to be quite a bit of stiffness. Can you flex it at all?”
Damn her, she’s killing me with her first-responder-like assessments. “Kira…”
Her hand wraps around my dick, and instantly I’m all groan and zero resistance.
Actually, you know what? We can play this however she wants.
I’m absolutely fine being the patient if she wants to be the doc.
I’ve no complaints over her bedside manner whatsoever.
The slide of her hand around me feels amazing, if not exactly soothing.
When she exposes the tip, I can’t help but buck against her.
“What the hell do you do to me?” A few more touches like that and she could have me shooting.
She laughs, a sound that gives me eargasms. “All the things you love, and think you shouldn’t.”
Too true. “Succubus,” I hiss. It’s still the only rational explanation for any of this.
“That’s right,” she nods sagely, before bursting into a grin that paints licks of silver through her eyes.
Our lips meet. Her tongue presses home, subduing mine.
I love how we kiss; how it gets so breathless and frantic, and how even when my breath is all sucked away all that matters is the burn of possessing her and being possessed in turn.
It’s a long kiss as she strokes me. Neither of us want to let go, until I tease the tip of my tongue against the roof of her mouth and feel her shiver right the way down to her toes.
I’m not sure how I discovered that particular electric point, but I’ve been ruthlessly exploiting it ever since.
Then again, nor do I specifically recall putting my hands on her arse, or hitching up her long skirt so that her legs are bared. She’s wearing lace topped stockings tonight, held up by suspenders. I follow the line of her lingerie upwards to where they meet her… No panties.
Oh dear God! My throat goes dry. No panties.
Kira without panties is more temptation than I can possibly resist. I groan loudly into her mouth, while clamping a hand around the back of her neck and drawing her close, as if my little show of strength proves I’m in charge of this situation, and not that I’m putty for her to play with.
“See something that interests you?”
She makes a fist around my cock, and I buck into the tunnel she’s formed.
“Could be.”
“Something you might like to pet?”
Playful stroking isn’t quite how my thoughts are leaning. They’re more inclined towards something decidedly energetic.
I pull her closer, lifting one of her legs so that it’s slung high around my hip, and grind our loins together.
“Ten minutes, Dylan.” I can hear the muffled hum of the Tannoy system announcing that fact to the attendees lingering in the vestibule.
Kira’s teeth nip my earlobe. “That’s how long you’ve got before we’re obliged to be in our seats.
So, whatever it is you think you want, you’d better get on with taking it. ”
I don’t need to be instructed twice. Immediately I let my trousers drop, so that they pool around my calves.
Kira’s hands find purchase on my arse, her fingers clenching and relaxing in time with the unconscious roll of my hips.
I can’t keep still, even as I’m tearing the foil and sheathing my cock.
“Lube?” she enquires, knowing that I carry it as well as condoms in my pockets.
“Not necessary.” A fact I ascertain with a quick check—sliding my fingers through folds of her sex. Yup, we’re good to party. Only she wriggles about until her back is facing me, and it’s her shapely bottom I’m being presented with, not her wet and hungry pussy.
So, I’m definitely no expert on women, but it doesn’t require any mental gymnastics to figure out what she’s asking for twerking her arse like that. She rubs herself against my thinly sheathed cock, driving me mental.
Ah, fuck. “Are you sure about this?”
This is not something the two of us have done before.
It’s not necessarily anything I anticipated us doing.
There’s not really the need to use the backdoor when she’s a perfectly accommodating pussy that’s plumped up and ripe for some action.
Then again, I do like the contrariness of defying convention and slipping it to her in the arse.
Her response is to jiggle against me some more, so that my cock rides the channel between her cheeks. “Feels so good, Dylan.”
I’m not denying that, but… “Has this little pucker ever even been breached?”
“I’m hungry for it.”
That may well be, but we’ll still be starting with a finger.
I wet one with saliva, and stroke it around her hole, only slipping her the tip when she starts restless groaning and begging me.
Her body swallows it up without protest, to the first knuckle, then the second.
I add another and she writhes on that too, mewling softly when I scissor them apart, and then curl them to stroke her inner walls. “Am I making you tingly?”
“Horny,” she insists, grasping my free hand and directing it to her sex, which is wet and swollen and definitely hungry for dick.
I ride out the temptation to plough into her right then and surround myself in her heat. Once I’m sheathed within those walls, there’ll be no pulling out before seeing stars, not even to slide into her arse.
“Dylan.”
“I got you. Let me just get…” There’s a sort of low shelf behind me, probably boxing for some pipes.
It serves well enough as a place to balance my arse, while I rifle some lube out of a pocket and slather it up and down my erection, working quickly but not so fast that I can’t enjoy the motion.
Only when I’m satisfied, do I draw her back to me.
It’s her first time, and she’s hungry for it, but the last thing I want to do is wind up hurting her.
For good measure, I slick up with another sachet of lube. “Okay, sweetheart, we’re good now. Lower yourself slowly.”
I guide her, hands on her cheeks, spreading them. My thumb preparing the way, until the blunt head of my cock butts against her hole. “Take a deep breath. Remember how good my fingers just felt. Then just sink right down. No rush.”
She struggles with that last bit, growing agitated when the head of my cock doesn’t immediately impale her, but instead slips and slides against her entrance. “It’s okay. Chill. There’s no need to force it.”
“We’re running out of—”
“Babe, we’ve plenty of—”
“Ooh!”
“There see.” Her back arches as I press inside. I kiss her shoulder blades and the back of her neck, endeavouring to loosen the tension in her muscles. “Too much? Not enough?”
“You feel bloody enormous.”
I chuckle, and accept the compliment, susceptible as any guy to being told he has a big dick. “That’s just the tip. Think you can take a bit more?”
Please take a bit more.
She lifts then falls cautiously, and repeats the motion twice before releasing a grunt and sinking down so that I’m inside her halfway, and then down to the root. “That’s—”
“Good?” I spit out quickly, needing the reassurance that this is still something she wants, ’cause things are storming from where I’m sitting.
“If feels like you’re going right through me into my cunt. Like you’re hitting my clit from the back.”