9 #2
I enter into a short vestibule, only a few feet wide, and turn to face the next door. An identical black door stands between me and my clandestine activities. It’s hard to see in the small dark space, but a red light illuminates the small lock, allowing me to use my gold key once more.
Black turns to fire as I’m surrounded by bold red walls and what looks like blood under my feet. Red lights hang overhead, and a neon sign reading Lascivious in bright red hangs on the wall.
My feet move towards the sound of low music and voices. It’s a sound I’ve come to know well. It’s a sound that gets my blood pumping and my heart pounding. The only feeling that rivals this is the thrill of being on the field.
The large room comes into view and just like last time, bodies are everywhere. Some dressed and some wearing only the thin red string bracelet that anyone who steps foot in here must be wearing.
In some cultures a red bracelet symbolizes protection or good luck. But here at Lascivious, it means sin. It means lust and hunger. A hunger for things that most people don’t want to know or admit they desire.
I walk through the room, scanning for a playmate for the night.
Many eyes look my way, all with the same craving.
In the corner a woman sits on the lap of an older gentleman.
He wears pants but no shirt, and she sits in only a black pair of panties.
Thong is my guess since her luscious ass sits plump on his thigh.
“Would you like a drink, Mr. Love?” A waitress strides over to me, her body clad in red nipple pasties adorned with a tassel, red fishnet tights, and fire red heels.
Everything and everyone here looks straight from the devil’s lair. In this crowd, I stand out like a fallen angel in my jeans and white button up shirt and sneakers.
“No thank you. I’m good.” She smiles, batting her lashes and rubbing her thighs together.
“Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” I dip my chin and dismiss her, walking further into the bowels of debauchery.
I turn my attention back to the woman in the corner and her eyes are still watching me.
Her fingers scratch at the man’s chest, but her body is turned in my direction, letting me know he is not what she wants.
She captures her lower lip between her teeth and I see her beautiful brown nipples harden.
She tilts her head, leaning into the man and whispering in his ear. He looks at her, somewhat disappointed, and she caresses his face. He nods and places a kiss between her full breasts and she stands. His eyes watch her hips as she sashays away, her destination set on me.
She captures me and I know exactly why. Her dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin…they remind me of a woman I can never have.
As she steps closer, I see that she is barefoot but walks on the balls of her feet as if she is wearing heels on a runway.
I smell her sugary perfume when her body stops just inches away from mine, and it’s not what I wish it were.
Valentina smelled like a summer day, fresh and sunny with a hint of floral.
This woman smells like freshly spun cotton candy.
And though I may not have a sweet tooth, sometimes you must take what you can to satisfy a craving.
“Hi,” she whispers, her voice seductive.
“Hi.” I lift my brow, scanning all the fine details of her face.
Her nose is too narrow, making me think it is not original to the owner.
Her lips are too plump, and her eyes sit too close together.
These are all things I would never have noticed or even cared to pay attention to before Valentina came into my life.
Now, all I can do is compare others to her perfection.
But hers is a beauty no one will ever touch .
For tonight, however, none of that matters.
“Are you free?” I ask her and she nods. “Want to play?” A wide smile spreads across her face and she grabs my hand.
I let her lead me through the couches and tables and booths, all filled with promiscuous people. We turn down a darkened corridor and find many doors closed. My favorite one, in particular, is closed, and I make a mental note to reserve it for another night.
Room 11 remains open, and we lock ourselves in.
A bed, a swing, stool and bench are placed around the room, giving us everything we may need for the night.
I don’t plan on this being an all night indulgence.
I need something hard and fast to help rid me of the itch that I feel whenever I’m around Valentina.
I grab the woman –whose name is not important– and spin her around, causing her to crash into my chest. Her fingers splay and she immediately goes to work, undoing my buttons one at a time. I let her take her time because this will be the end of her control.
“Any limits I need to know about?” Her eyes stay focused on my buttons and she shakes her head, giving me the green light to let loose. “Good.”
She pushes the shirt off of my shoulders and I let it fall to the ground. I grip my belt buckle, the metal clanking as I open it up, and rip the leather from my jeans like a whip. The crack makes her jump but her smile tells me she loves it
“Turn around,” I command, and she does as I say.
Working the belt, I loop it around her wrists, twisting in figure 8’s and tightening it until her hands turn pale.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she chokes out, looking over her shoulder.
I step back and admire her form. From this angle I can pretend Valentina stands before me, waiting to be ravished.
I quickly undo my jeans and kick off my shoes. My hard dick is gripped in my hand and I squeeze it, the blood rushing to the head. It throbs and I breathe deep, ready to let out the inner beast that I hide from the world.
My feet take me to her and I move to stand in front of her, those brown eyes taking in what she will feast on.
“Knees.” No please or asking.
I don’t do that. Behind these doors, I demand and take what I want.
Slightly awkwardly, she lowers herself on one knee then the other until she’s knelt before me.
I push my hand through her long hair, the strands move through my fingers like water.
The back of my hand runs down her cheek and across her jaw, giving her the sense of comfort.
It’s what I always do before they meet the harsher side of the man behind the dazzling smile.
Her jaw is squeezed in my large hand, the strength forcing her mouth open, and she stares up at me like a fish about to take the bait.
Bending over, I gather up the moisture building in my mouth and let the spit fall from mine to hers.
She sticks out her tongue, waiting for it like the drink of life.
“Don’t swallow,” I bite out.
With one hand still gripping her jaw, I fist my cock in the other and push it between her lips. I guide her head just where I need it to be, and thrust deep. It’s harsh and her muffled gag makes my dick pulse.
She closes her eyes as her jaw strains to take all of me in, but she doesn’t try to pull away. I release her jaw and dig my hands into her hair, using it like a reign to keep me seated. My thrusts are deep and slow at first, but it isn’t long before I lose myself.
My body shakes as I force myself down her throat and keep her anchored until her body convulses, searching for air. I pull back and out, and saliva drips from her mouth as do tears from her eyes. The black mascara begins to run and mix with the rivulets that stream across her cheeks.
I only give her a moment to catch her breath before I do it again. Over and over, I deprive her of the breath she needs to survive, only to bring her back. There’s a clicking in the back of her throat, bile working its way up.
“Don’t you fucking vomit. Swallow it down.” I pull out and she nods, gasping for air.
Her throat moves to work it back down, and she immediately lets her jaw hang open. My hand runs up and down my length, calming the flood that is ready to explode. I lift her with my hands under her arms, and carry her to the bench.
Her feet dangle and her chest heaves. I place her on the black leather horse-like bench, and bend her over, pressing her cheek to the cool surface. She pulls her legs, resting her knees on the ledges made for them.
I smooth my hands over her apple ass and spread them wide, opening her up for me to inspect. I lick down her seam and run my tongue over the rim of her puckered hole. She shivers but doesn’t stop me.
Members here have to submit physicals and blood tests to ensure their health.
Some don’t want the barrier of condoms between them, and women either agree to birth control or ask that the man wear a condom or pull out before ejaculation.
I don’t deal with the question of going in bare or sheathed. I always suit up .
Leaving her to rest on the leather bench, I step to the nightstand that houses a plethora of assistance one may need, and pluck a gold packet from inside. The condom is pulled free from the foil, and I slide it down my thick shaft.
With rushed movements, I remove the belt from around her wrists and her arms fall limp. She knows exactly what to do and grips the cold handles. I shove my fingers into her soaked pussy while the head of my cock slides over her hole.
“Can I take this?” The wet head circles her tight asshole as she clenches.
“Y-yes.” Her voice trembles, but it’s laced with longing.
“Soon. First, I need to destroy this needy pussy.” Removing my fingers, I shove my thick cock inside of her and she moans.
I wrap her hair around my fist and pull it tight. My hips piston roughly, my groin slapping against her ass. My fingers dig into her hips, leaving red marks along her tan skin. The need to bring pain overwhelms me, and my hand slaps against her smooth ass making her yelp.
A red handprint mars her flesh, yet it’s still too perfect.
I slap her three more times, two on each side to match.
She pants and moans and her body slides forward on the slick leather coated in sweat.
I dip my thumb into her hole, massaging the tight muscle.
She relaxes and I feel her clenching subside.
Harder and faster I fuck her, my hold on her hair never loosening. My grunts are feral and the roar that begs to be let free is held captive for just a bit longer.
I don’t use any words. No praises, no good girl or slut or choked words telling her to take it. None of that tonight. I just want to close my eyes and let my body speak.
The only words I do speak is when I give her a warning of what comes next.
“I’m going to fuck your ass. Scream, cry, shout in pain or pleasure. But if it’s too much, say penalty . Got it.” With her still tight in my grasp, she does her best to nod.
With that, I pull my dick from her tight pussy while dropping her hair. Her head hits the bench with a loud thud. My fingers work her cheeks apart, readying her to take me. The base of my dick in my fist, I begin to slowly breach her opening. Her breaths are heavy and her body tenses.
“Shh. Just relax.” She regulates her breathing then nods that she’s ready.
I feed her inch by inch, stopping to let her adjust. When only a couple inches remain, I slam into her and the rumble in my chest breaks free. She mewls but continues to breathe when my hips move slowly and controlled.
Soon her tense mewls turn to blissful cries, begging me for more and more. My balls tingle and tighten as a jolt of electricity shoots up my spine. This is where the Nic that those close to me don’t know about. And never will.
I reach for her neck and wrap my hands around her slim column. The muscles in my thighs flex as I ram into her tight asshole. The sounds are lewd and send chills from my fingertips to my toes.
Her forehead presses into the bench and I move harsher, still. I grunt and my hands squeeze tighter. A slender hand brushes against mine and I open my eyes to see her touching them. I loosen my hold and she jolts her head .
“Tighter,” she begs with barely any air in her words.
A devilish smile forms, and my hands close tighter around her throat.
The smacking sound blares through the room and soon it’s mixed with my groans. The fire in my body ignites and there’s no stopping me now. Blood rushes to the head of my cock and I slam into her.
My dick throbs and with one last plunge, the dam breaks and cum floods. Hot and thick, it spills until I’m empty.
I let go of her throat and no sound nor movement come. My heart ratchets up until a loud gasping of air calms my worry. Her back moves up and down rapidly, and I slide out of her without any ease or care for the pain.
She releases a cry like a newborn when my thick head breaks free. Little tremors or delight roll through me and I can finally breathe with ease.
For now my appetite has been quenched, but how long will it last?
I’m afraid that as long as Valentina remains off limits, my hunger will never be satisfied. And that…is a recipe for disaster.