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Closing her eyes as her face burned hot, she spread her thighs for his hand.
The stranger was stroking her through her panties now, playing with her pussy more masterfully than anything she had ever experienced. As he fingered her clit, her thighs became wet with a warm surge of arousal. His touch was so intimate, as if he already knew the needs and responses of her body. Who was this man? Once more she tried to twist around to see his face. But the crowd was so intense that she could only view the men on each side of her, both absorbed in their own conversations. She wiggled helplessly, both wanting him to continue and appalled at her own complicity.
Gently, he dragged her panties down her thighs, stopping them just before the hem of her short skirt. She swallowed, another wave of fever staining her face as he brushed his fingers over her exposed sex. Never in her life had she allowed anyone to take down her panties in a bar or feel her up in public or arouse her so fiercely without even showing his face…
His talented fingers circled her clit until it seemed to glow in its hood of skin like a jewel. She dropped her face in her hands, concealed by her long hair as she moaned with helpless lust. She was breathing hard and her thighs shook and she was so afraid that at any moment someone would realize what was going on. But in the loud chaos of the bar, both the bartender and the crowd seemed oblivious as her Muse pushed two fingers deep into her heat and began to slowly thrust in and out.
Chelsea gripped the polished wooden edge of the bar for support, struggling to stay balanced on her boots as he stimulated her with deft skill. Back and forth he flicked his fingers inside her, making her delicate flesh swell with excitement.
Lifting her head, she took another desperate look around the neon-lit bar, as anxious to escape detection as she had been to escape his hand just moments earlier. Her stiff nipples chafed against her lace bra like a maddening itch she couldn’t scratch. To be touched in this way, so sensually and inescapably, made her yearning almost unbearable. Who was he? It was ridiculous but something in her Muse’s touch made her ache for all of him, anonymous as he was. She longed to be naked with him and returning the favor with her hands and mouth, making him as thrilled and inflamed as she felt right now. Instead, she was forced into paralysis, their clothes and the crowd separating their bodies like a heavy, constrictive barrier.
Once more she tried to turn back toward him. Immediately his hands ceased their magic and rose to her hips, forcing her to face forward.
Okay. If that was how it had to be. She was determined to pass this test devised by Professor Deveaux…even if it did entail being intimately caressed by a complete stranger in a bar. Somehow, her Muse did not feel like a stranger. Crazy as she knew it sounded, she recognized something about him—an energy, a familiarity. It was as if they shared a connection between them that was more exciting and more erotically authentic than any attraction she’d felt before. Logically, she knew that he could have been anyone and yet something in his touch evoked one consistent mental image—the gorgeous brown-eyed man from last night’s Society party. Could it really be him? Professor Deveaux had to have noticed the steamy stare they had exchanged…
His fingers expertly continued to penetrate her wetness. Chelsea’s blood swam with a delirious fever that had nothing to do with the heat of the bar. Loose blonde tendrils clung to her flushed cheeks as she leaned over the bar, thrusting her bottom back at him in utter surrender. Both of his hands were under her skirt now, one playing inside her pussy with mindblowing skill. The other hand knowledgeably stroked her clit, pinching her swollen nub lightly until she moaned. She opened her legs as wide as she could in the tight crowd. As her arousal reached burning heights, he applied a light pressure from within that met the opposing touch on her clit at the same time.
A lightning bolt of white-hot lust rocketed through her body. Chelsea collapsed on the bar as she came, hiding her burning face in her hair. A deep moan wrenched itself from her mouth as her pussy clenched around his fingers with primal, ecstatic throbs.
Her Muse slipped his fingers from her wet, clinging sheath. Both of his hands retreated from her skirt to adjust her coat back in its proper position. As he stepped back, she felt the cool absence of his body behind her, but she was too agitated and disheveled to turn around and face him just yet. Her panties were still tangled around her thighs and her hard nipples poked painfully through her black cashmere sweater. Catching her breath, she composed herself and drew her coat together before discreetly reaching inside it to pull up her underwear. Then she turned to face her gifted Muse.
Only a crowd of drunken sorority girls stood behind her now, cackling over a round of Cosmos.
Bewildered, Chelsea pushed past them in time to glimpse a brown head slipping through the back door of the bar. She charged after him, scrambling over feet and muttering apologies as she pushed through drunken students and kissing couples. She couldn’t let him go—she had to meet him. Quickly, she threw open the door and burst into the alley behind the bar.
The alley was empty.
As the door swung shut behind her, the welcome coldness of the January night cooled her feverish flush. She stared in disappointment down the dark, narrow alley, hearing only the drip of melting snow into a drainpipe. The icy air danced up her bare thighs and made the damp panties between her legs feel even more sodden. Where had he gone?
He stepped up behind her and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. She knew immediately it was him; she recognized the electrical current that seemed to flow mysteriously from his fingertips to her blood. Faceless her Muse might be, but somehow he radi
ated a magnetism that convinced her he was the most attractive man in the universe. She closed her eyes and thought of that brown-haired masked man whose dark eyes had seared her heart last night.
“Who are you?” she whispered, knowing better than to try to turn around.
Instead of answering, he drew her against him and kissed the back of her neck. Her body shivered as his teeth gently bit her throat with a pressure that made her swoon. As his hands slid down to feel her breasts, Chelsea stayed perfectly still, afraid to end his caresses by moving. The recently satiated spark within her returned to life now, growing into a demanding inferno. The aftershocks still tingling in her pussy shifted into a questing, throbbing ache for his cock.
Her silent Muse pushed up her sweater and bra, exposing her nipples to the winter night. The chilly air felt delightfully naughty on her stiff pink points as she leaned back against him, surrendering to the moment. This yielded her first clue of his body. Now she knew that he was fairly tall and hard-muscled, with large yet sensitive hands that easily cupped her full breasts. Once more her mind filled with the memory of her dark-eyed mystery man from last night. The passion of his touch and the effortless chemistry between them convinced her it was him. Yet even as she yearned to know his face, she reveled in the anonymity of their encounter.
Her Muse massaged her bare breasts, apparently unworried at the possibility of interruption. The sound of car engines and voices on the sidewalk out front reminded her of how easily anyone could catch them as he rolled her nipples in his fingers. She was breathing hard and close to her second orgasm when his hands slipped lower to lift her skirt and stroke her pussy once more. She groaned, pushing against him. Yet his hands retreated all too quickly.
Impatient with need, she twisted in his arms. His iron grip held her still once more.
He surprised her by pressing down on her back. She obediently bent forward as he did the unthinkable. He threw her long, leather trench coat over her head, eclipsing the alley light and shrouding her in darkness. Breathless with excitement, her heart pounded wildly as her Muse pushed her skirt up around her waist and pulled her panties down her thighs. She heard the rustle of a condom wrapper a moment before he mounted her with expert swiftness.
His cock drove into her folds with one smooth, deep plunge. She gasped as he insistently pushed into her tightest depths. Surely this couldn’t be happening. She, Chelsea Becker, honor student, bending over for a stranger in an alley behind a bar. She would never do something like this. Never…and here she was panting with animal desire as he plunged in and out of her tight, wet pussy. She dropped her head, her long mane brushing the ground, as she surrendered utterly to the masterful thrusts of his hips. Her Muse held her tightly, working in and out of her tunnel with long, vigorous strokes. It was exactly the way she’d always wanted to be fucked and, as he touched her clit, she wondered dizzily if he had stepped out of her dreams. A hot, shivering electricity spread over her body, making her feel as if she’d scream or go insane if this incredible pleasure did not crest soon. A tight groan escaped his lips and at that first admission of need from him, her orgasm broke over her body like roaring light. Delirious contractions wracked her body as his own orgasm shuddered helplessly inside her.
For a long minute, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the drip of melting snow in the cold night.
Slowly, her Muse pulled out of her. The tip of his cock lightly brushed her thigh before his body again vanished maddeningly behind her. This time she quickly pulled down her skirt and stood up, throwing her coat off her head. It was too late. Her exciting stranger, her erotic Muse, had faded into the night, leaving her only a glimpse of wavy brown hair as he vanished. Chelsea knew it would be futile to chase after him. Instead, she was left standing alone in the alley, reveling in the certainty that she had just met her sexual soulmate—and almost as certain that he was none other than Jonathan Danvers.
Chapter Three
Dear Chelsea,
Congratulations. We have read your story with delight and are pleased to inform you that you have passed your first test. You will be informed of your second test in the coming days.
The coming days?
