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I take the hallway toward the ladies’ room, my taut nipples and ass brushing against the silky fabric of my dress as I stroll in my fly heels. I can feel the stares from both men and women as I pass them by. The adrenaline rush is powerful. It feels damn good to be noticed tonight!
I take a right turn toward the entrance to the restroom. A tall, dark-skinned sister with short caramel hair and large hoop earrings comes out and puts up her hand.
“Sista—trust me, you don’t want to go in there! It is way too foul. Take those stairs,” she says, pointing to the end of the darkened hallway. “There’s another one on the second floor.”
I nod and thank her as I head for the steps.
I climb the narrow stairs slowly as the pulse of acid jazz beats invades my chest. The space darkens and I have to hold on to the railing for support as I come to the landing, and proceed into a fog of smoky incense and near darkness. My fingernails trace a path along the wall slowly as I try to find my way. My heart begins to pound—is this the right way? Perhaps I should turn back. Before I can complete the thought, something brushes against my ass, and before I can react, a hand is thrust between my legs as I am pushed against the wall.
“Let me feel that puddy cat!”
The deep voice coming from behind me is completely unfamiliar, but his tone and the way he speaks those words has me pausing as a tremor runs the length of my spine. I try to turn my head in order to discern shapes, but it is of no use—the hallway is almost completely dark save for sparks of light that, like lightning, seem to come from overhead. I feel something on my backside again—a hand that palms my cheeks and traces the G-string downward toward my core. I shift to the side in protest, alarms going off in my head. Where is Damon? Who is this man? But then that soothing voice returns, and I can feel his breath on my cheeks as he presses himself fully into me from behind. He pins me to the wall, the rock of his manhood pressing into the cleft of my ass as he grinds his hips into me and whispers, “Don’t worry, Josey, everything’s cool. It’s time for your birthday gift.”
A part of me wants to scream for Damon. In fact, I feel his name form on the tip of my tongue and lips, but I can’t say whether anything emerges at all. The thumping in my chest is overpowering, excitement drowning out everything else.
I am led into a room off the hallway. It too is almost completely dark, but my eyes seem to be getting used to the dimness. I spy a red velvet couch by a dark window. I am led to it and made to sit down. I try to glance upward to see my abductor, desperately needing recognition to flood through my insides so that I can feel okay about what I’m experiencing. The intensity is rising in me like mercury, but the man gently turns my head away and grasps my hair firmly in his powerful hands.
I am blindfolded with a silk sash and commanded to lie down.
I do so, not knowing what else I can do. I feel my thighs begin to quiver, with anticipation or fear, I do not know.
At some point I call out for Damon, sensing him near, but the man with the deep voice is by me in a flash instead, his sweet-smelling breath on my cheek again.
I feel a pair of hands raise my dress and touch my inner thighs. My legs are gently parted as I feel a second set of hands circle my breasts. I suck in a breath as I feel my nipples tighten and stretch. My G-string is pulled to one side and instantly I sense fingers brushing against the lips of my sex. It is sticky with juice and I am breathing heavy as a mouth covers mine. I taste a warm tongue as someone else’s tongue begins to probe my cunt. My back arches as my legs widen. I am in heaven. My mind is racing. Where is Damon? I know this is his doing. I can feel him in the room—don’t ask me how I know, but he is close by. I just know he is.
The tongue deep inside me takes my breath away. It is not Damon, I am certain of that. The way this person is working me down there is unlike the way my man does. Don’t get me wrong—Damon is an excellent lover and can send me to heaven and back just with his lovely tongue, but he has a rhythm that is all his own. After sleeping with someone for over nine months you get to know their patterns and M.O. This isn’t him.
My breasts are freed from the confines of my dress; both nipples are taken hold of, squeezed, and twisted simultaneously. Then a mouth attacks them, first licking across and under my mounds before they are sucked into a mouth, one delicious nipple at a time.
A pair of fingers finds their way into my drenched slit. Before I can moan with pleasure, a tongue is thrust far inside my mouth, glazing over my teeth and fluttering against my own frenzied tongue that quivers like a flame.
“Does that feel nice, Josey?” the low, sexy voice asks me. I try to respond, but I find that I can barely speak. My breasts are being kneaded together, my tits pushed together like twin peaks until my nipples almost touch, and that wonderful tongue—which one I can’t tell you; I am losing track of the numerous tongues and appendages—flicks back and forth from one taut nipple to another, glazing my skin and raising gooseflesh. Down below, one of my many unseen lovers has begun to play with my clit, rubbing the engorged piece of flesh between a wet thumb and forefinger before tugging on it in a teasing kind of way. And then just as I spread my legs farther and think I’m gonna lose my mind, those quick fingers are replaced down there by an expert mouth—a mouth that slurps me up whole like an oyster and squishes my hot flesh between its teeth and tongue.
That’s when I cry out and come.
My nipples are pulled hard, enhancing the sensation as the waves of my orgasm roll through me.
Oh yeah, ya’ll. I come hard!
I attempt to holler again, but a slender finger is inserted into my mouth. As I suck on it longingly, I suddenly feel a long fingernail scraping against the roof of my mouth. The thought of a woman in the midst of this lovefest strikes me like a devastating blow to the face. I had thought about this a million times over, the possibilities of another female joining in, but Damon and I hadn’t made any firm plans yet. And now this! It is all happening so quickly that I feel myself grow dizzy. I try to concentrate; attempt to decipher which of my new lovers are male or female as they work their magic on me. Suddenly, the possibility of a woman kissing and licking me down there makes my face flush. This isn’t happening, I tell myself, but the head moving purposely between my legs says otherwise.
Abruptly I am yanked up to a standing position; my arm is held tightly as I am led out of the room. I can hear muted voices. I protest, yelling for Damon and demanding to know where I am being led next, but no one answers my calls.
Presumably, I am led back into the hallway, my fingernails finding the wall as they scrape across the smoothness of the surface.
Then we stop as quickly as we had begun. My breasts are heaving in front of me, remaining unsheathed from my dress. I try in vain to reposition my G-string, but a hand brushes my fingers away. I am pressed once again to the wall, and the hot breath on my face returns—the silky, sexy bass voice whispering in my ear, “Don’t move, birthday girl. Gotta hang here for just a moment more.”
I turn my face to the source, open my mouth to protest, but a large hand covers my mouth, preventing me from speaking. A finger slips in and I suck on it as if it were a candy cane.
I sense the back of my dress being raised, my ass cheeks are kneaded and palmed, and I spread my legs in anticipation. In a sudden flurry my G-string is ripped off my body. A stinging pain runs from my waist to inner thigh. I yell out, but the thick hand returns to cover my mouth.
“Sssshh!” a voice whispers forcefully as the full weight of his body presses against my bare flesh. I can feel him coming to life through the fabric of his jeans. My hand snakes down behind me, fingers spreading over the material of his pants as I feel his hardness. I leave my hand there for a moment, feeling him as he becomes engorged. My fingers alight from his pants as if they were on fire. The thumping in my chest has returned and I find that I am out of breath. I try to reconcile everything that has just occurred, attempting to decide what to do next. But it is hard—too many distractions, everythi
ng feeling better than it should.
Behind me, my abductor moves away from me for a few moments, and I have time to catch my breath, but barely. Then I feel him reconnect. This time, his sweet member is unencumbered—it is free. It bobs against my ass; without thinking I reach for it and take it in my palm. It is thick and pulsating as if it were alive. I rub my thumb along its latex-covered girth before my hands are removed and placed in front of me on the wall.
He presses into me, his breath tickling my neck as I sense him moving into position. His penis is close to my pussy—dangerously close. He rubs it against my lips, from side to side, and my flesh quivers with every stroke. My face is pressed against the cool wall; my thighs tremble as my eyelids flutter.
