♥ For some, nothing beats the taste of something new -X
He seemed out of place surrounded by all of the middle-aged men that clung to me like spider webs. I couldn’t help but wonder about him. Was he here out of sheer curiosity, or did he know exactly what he wanted?
I couldn’t deny that he was my type in the vanilla sense – tall and slim, with hazel eyes that were glossy as wet sea-rock. He lifted the painfully stylish porkpie hat off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He licked his lips as he looked at me from top to bottom, and a blush rose from my tits to my face.
I squinted to see the color of the plastic band around his wrist. A top.
The plot thickens.
I turned my back to him to converse with a potential Daddy, but I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. His gaze was as tangible as searching hands on my ass, and when I turned to look for him he was right behind me, chatting with a matriarchal Domme in a latex bodysuit.
He raised an eyebrow. As gorgeous as he was, he wasn’t who I envisioned as a Sir – he was too young. In fact, he might be younger than me.
He walked up to me and took his hat off respectfully, which I found disarming.
“You’re beautiful, and I’m Seth.”
I cocked my head to the side and smiled at him. “I’m Mena,” I said, giving him the name I used when in those circles.
“Bride of Dracula, huh? You into bloodplay?” I smiled and remained silent.
We both tried to speak at the same time, but I put my head down and let him talk.
“I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you all afternoon, and would consider myself lucky if you’d let me spank you.”
I looked into his eyes, and they were earnest. He didn’t seem like a poser. He was so very young though…the skin over his forehead was still completely lineless, and he looked like he didn’t even have to shave every day yet. My eyes fell to his flat belly and his narrow hips. His hands were large and strong, and his arms were corded with muscle that stretched the short sleeves of his t-shirt.
I nodded my head and waited for further instruction. When he just stood there, I wondered whether he was aware of the protocol, or whether I had made him feel clueless.
“Follow me,” he said, and I walked behind him as he led me toward the private little alcoves at the back of the club. I wondered why he’d picked me. After all, there were other women at the club…the young, slightly unkempt looking waifs that seemed to normally attract young men like him. I looked down at my full breasts and the hourglass shape of my body and sighed.
I hoped he wasn’t into cruel verbal humiliation.
He guided me into a room with cushioned leather benches and pleasant lighting. I was surprised to see no mirror or steel o-rings attached to the walls like in the other rooms I’d visited…this was nice. He closed the door and smiled at me, then sat down. He pointed right in front of him.
He traced my body, his hands just centimeters away from actually touching. They moved over my narrow waist, up to my breasts, then back down to my hips. He sighed.
“Just perfect,” he said. “Show me your ass.”
Although I was used to these demands, it felt different coming from him. Almost more kinky.
I lifted my tight skirt the best I could over my hips and turned around. I wasn’t wearing any panties, but I still wore a garter belt and silk thigh high stockings…the ones with the line up the back. He sighed so hard that I felt his warm breath on my skin.
“Turn around.” I obeyed, and his hand was already extended to pull me on his lap. I put a knee on the seat and he saw a flash of my pussy. He cursed underneath his breath.
I sat gingerly on his lap since I didn’t want to ruin his black pants with my cunt juice, but pulled me onto him until I could feel the heat of his cock. He was a big boy, and he was very hard.
He caressed the overflow from my bustier with his knuckles. I arched at his touch. He pulled down on the bustier and my breasts popped out, my nipples already hard.
He grunted, and sweat beaded his hairline. He pinched my nipples so hard it took my breath away, then slapped my tits. He watched them jiggle, and then traced his red hand print with his tongue. I moaned and squeezed the back of his neck. He stopped licking and looked at me.
“Lay over my knee.”
My heart beat faster, but I wondered how it would be to be spanked by someone younger. Would it make me crazy like it did when an older man or woman did it? I lay over his long, slim legs and arched my back. When I turned to look at him, his face was suffused with a light that made him even lovelier. I smiled and turned to face the floor.
I felt his hand on the insides of my thighs right over my stockings, and his fingertips slid on my wetness. He traced the line between my thigh and my ass, and then gave my ass a slap that made me groan.
His other hand moved underneath me, and his fingers fondled my clit as he spanked me. The skin of my ass soon stung viciously, and I had to bite back my screams because he was relentless.
He cursed underneath his breath again and slid three fingers into my pussy as he spanked, so every time I bucked inward they would go deep inside me. His thumb made firm circles on my clit and I started to ride his hand although intense pain radiated from my ass. He pulled his hand from between my legs and tugged at my nipple with slippery fingers.
“Don’t get greedy.”
He squeezed my tits and weighed them in his hands while his other hand rubbed painfully at my sore ass.
“To live without this…” he sighed, and his voice sounded far away. I turned to look at him and his expression was wistful. How strange. He bent to rub his lips on the bruised skin of my ass, and both of his hands eagerly caressed and pinched my breasts and ass – even the soft skin at the insides of my thighs. He stopped and looked between my legs.
“You have a perfect cameltoe.”
I blushed, and he squeezed the solidness underneath his jeans.
“Get on all fours and show it to me, from the back.”
I slid off his lap and knelt with my forehead nearly touching the carpeted floor. He pressed my knees closer together, so my plump pussy lips would swell tantalizingly underneath my ass. My mouth watered because I knew the loveliness of what he was looking at – I loved to see women bending that way to me.
I heard him unzip and spit undecorously into his hand. I turned to look at him, and he rubbed the slickness on the purple tip of his cock and groaned. I bucked at the sight of him – the crown was almost impossibly fat, and the shaft curved upward. My favorite. If only…
I wet the tops of my stockings and suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing a gold circlet on my left hand. I felt a sudden flash of shame, the bad kind, and faced the floor again. He gave me everything but this… I looked at him again and shivered with lust.
“Face me, on your knees.”
I turned and my breasts bobbed pertly on his lap. He squeezed them together and rubbed his saliva moistened thumbs on my nipples, and then he moved forward until the head of his cock slid on my cleavage. He thrust his hips and his cock was between my tits. His face was ecstatic as my titflesh gave to his hardness, and the head of his cock popped up underneath my chin.
“If only…” he echoed, more to himself than to me, and I saw an all too familiar feeling cloud his expression for split second. I moved so his cock would slide between my tits and make him forget. His eyes snapped back into focus and he started to fuck my tits with a passion that made me reach between my legs to rub my clit.
I looked at his face as he used me. He was beautiful, and he was mine…at least, for this moment, for tonight. I turned my head and looked at my face in the mirror, and I had to blink to recognize myself. I was flushed scarlet and on the brink of an orgasm; no amount of makeup could make me look as good as I felt. He stopped and reached down to fondle my cunt again. He pulled me up onto his lap and buried two fingers in my pussy.
“Grab onto my shoulders and lean back so I can see your tits.”
He put his hand on my hip and started to press into my g-spot. I moaned but I didn’t close my eyes because I wanted to see him – not the him he presented to his friends or his family or his coworkers – but the man who bared his teeth like an animal at the feel and smell of a fantasy made flesh.
I was his fantasy tonight, what he might jerk off to tomorrow, and that’s why I loved the way his dusky pupils dilated to take in the way my hair stuck to the sweaty skin of my neck, or the way my tits jiggled just inches in front of his face.I lay my cheek on the dirty floor of his id, the very bedrock of his being, and I groaned knowing it was why I risked everything.
This was real, unburdened by wit or grace or love, and it was the only way I could come. My lips curled into a grin as pleasure exploded in my belly, but I still watched him taking in the way my hips bucked and my cunt tightened around his probing fingers as I came.
“Pretty boy,” I said, and it came out slurred because my tongue was heavy with lust. I leaned forward to lick the sweat from over his lip and he kissed me. He slid his tongue into my mouth and traced my teeth with the tip while he slid another finger inside of me; he wanted to memorize me inside and out. When I reached down to stroke him, he was still hard but sticky with come – he must’ve come while watching me. Ah, to be young and always horny…
I slid off his lap and took him into my mouth as deep as I could, and my pussy contracted with longing. He was so young he even tasted new, resinous and syrupy as a persimmon. He put his hand on the top of my head as I sucked him and he looked down at me, the tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth. I caressed his balls while I sucked, hoping he’d give me a proper taste before our time together was through.
I rubbed the rough side of my tongue on the underside of his cock, moaned into him and wished I could feel that sweet friction inside me, but even as jaded as I’d become, couldn’t break my only rule. His balls tightened in my hand and he pulsed into my mouth, again. I reached up and pressed the flat of my palms into his taut belly to feel the muscles rolling with pleasure underneath, and didn’t stop sucking him until he stopped pulsing.
I let him slide out of my mouth.
“Thank you,” he said as he tucked himself back into his jeans, and I chuckled – no one had ever thanked me before.
I pulled my skirt back down and straightened my hair, and he opened the door and led me back to the main room. He gave me a nod and walked toward a pretty young woman with a pixie cut and clothes-hanger clavicles. He wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered something in her ear – his manner toward her spoke volumes.
She gave me a frank look, then her slim shoulders rose in a shrug. I smiled knowingly, then turned when I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder wearing a wedding ring that matched mine.