Four writers for the price of one blog
I was on my third shot of vodka when she walked in the door.
She was tiny, much shorter than me, but her shoulders were strong and squared against the hostile gazes of the people in the room. She grabbed a glass of amber liquid that looked like scotch from a passing waiter and walked into the shark tank with a smile that showed all of her teeth.
Ah, she’s smart, I thought, and traced the rim of my glass. Her big, chocolate-brown eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. Her smile blinked on and off, then turned up as she found someone she knew…she walked confidently through the crowd and caressed the naked arm of an older woman wearing a vintage strapless gown.
I didn’t know how intently I watched her until she turned toward me and raised an eyebrow. I nearly dropped my drink. She smiled again, the same broad smile. It was warmer, but no less predatory.
I turned around and asked for another two fingers of vodka. As I waited, I smelled a deep caramel-infused musk.
“I’ll have the same,” she said, and turned to me. “I have to wash the taste of that shitty whiskey from my mouth.”
Up close, her feline eyes had gold highlights that played beautifully with the amber paillettes in her gown. I took a searing gulp of my vodka and tried not to wince. The top of her head barely reached my chin, but her presence was intimidating.
“You don’t look sufficiently amoral to be a producer – you’re either a composer, or a writer.”
She gave me a slow up and down look and licked her lower lip mischievously. She leaned down to smooth her dress, and her small breasts bounced pertly underneath the light fabric.
“The latter, not the former,” I said, and drained my vodka. She smiled again, then raised her arms and moved them up and down dramatically.
“So I’m one of your marionettes. That’s what actors are, after all…beautiful, but empty.”
“That sounds mildly pessimistic.”
“It’s the truth.” She shrugged and put her elbow on the bar.
She looked down into her untouched drink, and the fluid lines of her chin and neck made my eyes burn with their beauty. She was so lovely…I wanted to reach out and touch the delicate mole on the top of her cheekbone. Or better yet, lick it.
I put down the heavy glass and looked toward the hallway, and she seemed to read my mind. She linked arms with me, and the feel of her skin against mine made my hairs stand on end.
“Come on, I’ll show you where the bathrooms are.” The crowd parted for her, and important looking people nodded their heads and stared daggers at us. Her grip tightened, but her face remained serene.
Just as soon as we stepped out into the empty hallway, she pulled me into a dark corner and wrapped her arm around my waist.
“Tell me, Writer, can you keep a secret?” Her sweet breath made my nostrils twitch. My heart was beating fast, but I tried to remain calm – I was familiar with the histrionics of actresses, and I’d promised myself not to fall for it.
“Depends on what it is,” I said. Her hands moved up to my ribcage. I was afraid she’d be able to feel my rushing pulse.
“I can’t tell you here.” She traced my lower lip. Her nails were unvarnished, her fingers long and slim. She pulled me toward a darker alcove at the end of the hallway. Although I had an idea of what might happen, there was a part of me that couldn’t believe it…I took a deep breath. Maybe she just wanted to smoke a joint with me or something – it couldn’t possibly be what I wanted it to be.
“What’s the big secret?”
She pressed me up against the wall, grabbed my hand and shoved it underneath her gown. My fingertips grazed smooth thigh, then she pressed my hand to her hot center. My mouth dropped open, but she just ground her hips into my palm.
“Ahhh…” I said, and it came out sounding like a groan. She was already very wet, and the way her silky pubic hair brushed against my fingertips made my nipples hard. My fingers twitched to part her pussy lips and find her clit, but I was afraid to move lest I wake from the dream.
“Kiss me, Writer,” she said, and got on her tippy toes to reach my mouth. Her tongue danced around mine hungrily, and my other hand finally squeezed her ass. I opened my eyes to study her face. Her eyes were closed tight and her brow was furrowed with lust.
How many men wanted what I was getting right then?
She untied the satin strings around her neck, and the top of her gown fell to her waist. I stopped kissing her and gaped at her breasts. Her nipples were fat and brown but she hardly had any areolas, and she was so pert she never needed to wear a bra. She guided my head down to her breasts, but my lips had to graze a hard nipple before I reacted.
I sucked her sweet little tit almost entirely into my mouth, and she shivered. I pinched her other nipple with my pussy-stained hand. Her warm, clean musk was less savage than the perfume she wore. I sucked so hard I feared I might leave passion marks, but she just buried her hands in my hair and groaned. I was so eager saliva made my chin slippery, but licking her taut nipples only made me hungry for her clit…
Again, she seemed to sense my desire.
She pushed me down between her legs. Her plump pink pussyflesh pulsed, and her scant pubic hair stuck to her lips. She pinched her clit in between her index and middle finger and thrust her hips into my face.
“It you don’t suck it, I swear I’ll cry.” Her eyes were liquid with longing.
I pulled her hand from her cunt and looked at her. Her inner lips were swollen and glossy, and her cunt tightened in my gaze. I pulled back the little hood and licked from the opening of her cunt to the underside of her clit. She sighed explosively, then bit her lip when we heard laughing not too far away. I was so focused on her I’d forgotten we were in a dark hallway.
I sucked her clit into my mouth. Her back arched and her hands clamped over my shoulders as I rhythmically rubbed the rough side of my tongue underneath her clit in slow circles. My eyes were closed, but they still rolled to the back of my head with lust. I pinched her nipples, squeezing her preternaturally firm tits. Sweat rolled down my temples.
She sounded like she was in pain, and I stopped.
“Don’t you stop!” she said, and I gave her now hard clit a slow, delicate lick – maybe I had been sucking too hard. She caressed my cheek and shook her head.
“No. Do it like before, Writer.”
I moaned and sucked her clit into my mouth again, and her hand tightened into a fist in my hair.
“That’s right. Eat it,” she said as I rubbed her clit eagerly with a broad tongue. I was so aroused it was hard to breathe. I cupped her firm ass in my hands and pressed her into my face.
“I want your tongue in my pussy,” she said. I slid my tongue into her. She was already tight and she tasted like she was on the cusp – less salty and oversensitized, if that was even a flavor. I smiled into her cunt and made sure to not rub or touch her clit as I tongue fucked her as deeply as I could. She squeezed around my tongue and reached down to rub herself over the edge, but I grabbed her hand.
“Uh-uh.” I moaned roughly into her pussy. She trembled.
I ran a finger down the crack of her ass and pressed the tip into her winking asshole. Her ass grasped at my finger as eagerly as her pussy grasped my tongue. I ached with my need to come, but I wanted to taste her first. I made my tongue as fat as possible and slid it in and out of her while I fingered her asshole, and her belly tightened until I could see the lines of her abdominal muscles. I got lost in the perfect pressure and taste of her cunt, but soon she tightened around my tongue and released a warning squirt of amrita. I lifted my head and smiled at her, and she had trouble focusing her eyes on my face.
“Why’d you-” she started, but I gently sucked her clit into my mouth and slid three fingers into her pussy. She sucked in breath and shook her head, but I wrapped my other arm around her waist and began to suck her clit and milk her pussy as hard as I could. She grabbed my shoulders and curled into herself as the strengthening waves of her orgasm made her knees weak. She wheezed and groaned over me as I coaxed another orgasm from her, and her juices were so copious they dripped past my wrist and wet my bracelets…
My face was slick with her her by the time I slid my fingers out of her cunt. She pulled me up with preternatural strength and pushed me against the wall, face-first.
“Time for the second act, Writer,” she said, and slid her hand between my legs and found my clit.