Entries Tagged 'One Night Sex Stories' ↓

    When Tim woke the next morning, he filled his car and headed

off.  From town their was only two ways to head, North or South.

As he flipped a coin he said to himself “Heads North, Tails South.”

He looked at the coin,  “South it is.”

    The second day of driving, he stopped for lunch and realized

that he would run out of gas before the next town.  The more he

looked around, the more he came to realize, this place was

different.

    In the town  he had left the day before, the women were still

wearing coats and sweaters.  Even though spring had just started,

hear the women were running round in Bikini’s and shorts.  Tim

looked around and found a casino to go into.

    Tim had just finished loading his remaining quarters into a

slot machine, when over at the bar, he noticed a petit oriental

woman staring out onto the gaming floor, sort of looking off at

nothing in particular.

    As she turned her body toward Tim, he looked at her, and her

short red dress might as well have had neon letters on it saying

suck my tits and fuck my pussy.

    When the slot came up blank, Tim moved over to the bar and

said, “waiting for somebody.”

    The young lady looked at him, wet her lips and said, “No.

But I am meeting Mr. March in a half hour.  But While I am

waiting, I thought I would begin the search for Mr. April.”

    “Oh, you like more than one at a Time, huh?”, said Tim.

    She spun her stool so she was facing Tim and extended her

hand and said, “My name is Miyoko.  You sound like a sexually

liberated man.  Well, I’m a sexually liberated woman in search of

a mate.”

    “Sounds interesting,” said Tim, “what do I have to do.”

    “Well,” said Miyoko “I don’t want to sound like some kind of

slut, but I could give you a suck job like you’ve never had

before, and then slip you meat into my tight cunt and milk you

dry.”

    Tim answered, “If you feel up to it, we can rent a room and

see if your body agrees with what you think.”

    “I’d love to, but like I said, in a few minuets I’ve got to

meat a gentleman.  Right now, I’m just looking for Mr. April.”

Said Miyoko.

    “Who the hell is this Mr. April.” Asked Tim.

    “Actually, I don’t know.  I hadn’t picked him yet.”

Answered Miyoko.  “But you never know you might be Mr. April

yourself.”

    “I have no idea what the hell your talking about.”  Said

Tim.  “I’ve never laid eyes on you before tonight.”

    Miyoko explained “March and April are just names that I use.

Like I said.  I’m looking for a sexually liberated man.  Last

names aren’t important.  Besides, I only spend one month with a

guy then I move on.  The Mr. March that I’m meeting in a little

while is the gentleman that I’ve been fucking and sucking me for

the past month.”

    “I see.” Said Tim.

    “And you know,” continued Miyoko, “Their is only a Week in

March, and.” as Miyoko ran her leg up Tim’s to his crotch, “that

means that it is Time for me to start looking for a new cock.

Are you interested.”

    “Keep your panties on bitch.” Tim said as he lifted her

dress a little.  “Or in your case keep your dress on.  Their are

some things I don’t buy without sampling.”

    “I think I understand what your saying.” said Miyoko as she

moved her stool closer to Tim’s.  “You want to take me upstairs,

slip me out of this flimsy dress, and find out just how tight my

snatch is, how suckable my nipples are, and how talented my

tongue is.  Right.”

    “You read my mind.”  Said Tim.

    “I’ll make a deal with you,” said Miyoko as she handed Tim

some money.  “You rent us a room.  And as soon as I’m through

with Mr. March.  I’ll call the casino and have them page Mr. P.

F. April and then I’ll let you know wear to pick me up.”

    With not knowing how long Miyoko would be, Tim rented a room

and took the remainder back to the casino and sat down at a

blackjack table.  Tim knew that with how much was left, he could

spend several hours on the table, and with the free drinks, he

would be feeling pretty good by the Time Miyoko was ready. 

    To Tim, it seemed like it took forever, but it was actually

only a couple of hours before he heard over the casino speakers,

“Mr. P. F. April pick up a house phone.  Mr. P. F. April please

pick up a house phone.”

    It was only a couple of blocks to wear Miyoko said to meet

her.  She walked over to the car now wearing what only looked

like some kind of oriental wrap.  She leaned in the window and

asked, “Did you get us a room.”

***He***

I’m in my element now. I kiss and nibble my way down her heaving

abdomen, pausing to play with the ring in her navel, then working my

way down to the supersensitive flesh at the crease where thigh joins

torso.

Shivers race through her as my tongue plays in the soft flesh of this

forbidden valley. My fingers play a concerto inside her. I know the

places that women like to be touched, and I play them like a fine

instrument.

My tongue circles her throbbing clit, then flicks rapidly back and

forth across it as the pads of my fingers caress her G-spot.

BAM! Her first climax has her screeching into the back of her hand!

**She***

This is not going my way at all! My orgasm rips through me as he takes

over control of my body!

Twice, three times more his magic fingers and tongue wrest spasms from

my heaving body!

Like a rag doll, he turns me onto my knees. With three fingers inside

my sopping pussy, his tongue plunges deep into my ass!

Oh no! He’s discovered my secret! I wail in despair and surrender to

his invading tongue as it ravishes my quivering rectum! My orgasm is

almost continuous now, I scream and writhe on the ottoman, not sure

whether I want to escape or push back and impale myself more deeply on

his cursed tongue!

Suddenly, my gaping orifice is empty, and I shriek in frustration.

***He***

She’s mine now! I kneel up and align my throbbing manhood with her

quivering pussy.

One long, slow, plunge, and I’m nestled hard against the musclular

lump of her cervix. Her vagina heaves and caresses the length of my

hard shaft as a guttural moan escapes her throat!

Hard and fast, I plunder and plow her tender tissues, swiveling my

hips at the far end to prod and stretch new places within her. Her

moans are continuous and her hips drive backward to meet each thrust.

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my orgasm from

tearing itself out of my rampant shaft, but there is one more conquest

I must make to complete my victory!

***She***

Heaving and grunting like a pig, I revel in my subjugation! His

conquering shaft drives me through climax after climax, as I wait,

with fear and anticipation for what is to come.

We both know how this must end, and my cringing rectum opens wide

around the plunging shaft, screaming in pain, spasming in ecstasy!

Deep into my bowels he plunges, taking what he wants - what I must

give! Hard and strong, his conquering spear stabs my guts, rearranging

my intestines, making a permanent home for its victorious presence!

His hips swivel, and the bloated plum of his glans swirls and hollows

out my colon.

No climax in my life has come from so deep in my soul! No orgasm ever

wrenched itself from my body with such violence, such utter

indifference to what might or might not be left in its wake!

***He***

Her final orgasm begins as a subsonic rumble in her chest, then rises

to a growl, a cry, a scream, a screech, and finally, a shriek that

fades into the ultrasonic!

Her body goes rigid around my exploding shaft, and blackness threatens

to engulf me as my body empties its entire store of pent-up passion in

a series of violent explosions! My lava coats and fills her bowels as

I savor my victory with tiny strokes in the gritty velvet of her

quivering fundament!

***She***

As, with effort and his help, I extract myself from the Ferrari, he

hands me a calling card. With a tiny smile, he accepts the one

extended from my fingers.

His smile broadens as he reads what I’ve scrawled on the back:

‘Rematch?’

He gives me a curt nod as I turn to head for my Porsche, realizing

with shock that we have yet to hear each other speak.

***She***

My passion play has the desired effect, and soon his muscular body

appears above my head where it hangs off the edge of the ottoman.  His

long, hard cock accepts the invitation of my half-open lips.

My left hand slips between his legs and urges him inward. I haven’t

had a cock like this in ages, and I savor every thick inch of it as it

slips further and further down my throat!

My middle finger toys with the crinkled ring of his anus as my lips

bury themselves in the sandy thicket of his pubic hair, causing his

prick to pulse in my throat.

With a quick thrust, I bury the finger in his rectum and use it to

pull him away from my face, only to force his rod back in, knowing the

effect my moans would have on his sensitive glans!

***He***

The sight of my cock stretching her bulging throat, and the combined

sensations of her finger in my ass and the velvety heat of her mouth

have pushed me to the edge and I know it won’t be long.

I fuck her willing mouth and throat with long strokes. Faster and

faster I plunge into the inferno, finally stopping, buried as deep as

I can go! My explosion blasts cum straight into her stomach!

Pulling out, I let the last couple of spurts go in her mouth.

Gazing defiantly into my eyes, she swirls it around with her tongue

before swallowing.

***She***

Elation fills me as he cums in my mouth! I have won! Now I can dress

and leave!

But, wait! What’s this! He’s still rigid as an iron rod!

He pulls me up and kisses me deeply, not caring that his cum still

coats my mouth! Lips, tongue and teeth assault my senses as he works

his way down my neck to my breasts!

He is not gentle, and my body responds to his urgency with passion.

His teeth set my screaming nipples on fire, and my loins burn as his

finger plunges deeply, then withdraws, dragging deliberately across my

G-spot!

My other breast is totally engulfed as he sucks the entire orb into

his mouth, battering it with his tongue. As it slips from his

moistened lips, sharp teeth on hard nipple send lightning down my

spine!

Two fingers plunder my dripping sex, now, and withdraw to slip up the

sides of my distended clit! Oh God, he is a masterful lover!

***She***

I lick and chew at his hard, tiny nipple, trying to regain some lost

ground.

The zipper at my back slips downward and a large hand finds its way

inside my top just as the doors of the elevator ‘ding’ and open.

Muscular arms sweep me off my feet, and without apparent effort, he

carries me to an apartment door.

Somehow, without disturbing me as I recline in those strong arms, he

manages the unlocking and opening of the door.

Lights come on as I’m transported into a spacious living area that

fairly screams ’seduction zone’!

I’m deposited on a large ottoman in the center of the sunken living

area, and music fills the room from unseen speakers.

A drink is thrust into my hand and I sit up to take a sip, not

bothering to pull my top up as is slips down my arms.

He sits, watching, sipping his own drink, on the circular sofa

surrounding the ottoman.

I am on display, so I take the role and run with it.

***He***

She extends the almost empty glass and I take it from her, admiring

her bare shoulders and the upper slopes of her breasts.

Slowly, gracefully, turned half away from me, she removes the silky

fabric of her top, putting on a show.  The skirt follows and she

reclines her deliciously naked form in the center of the ottoman.

On her petite frame, the smallness of her breasts makes her look more

vulnerable, more fragile.

She writhes upon the ottoman, one knee up, the other leg extended. An

elegant finger slips eagerly into the thatch of curly brown hair at

her vee, parting the moist folds and penetrating far inside.

The other hand clutches a small tit, squeezing hard before taking the

rigid little nipple between thumb and middle finger, pulling it far

from her body. Her hips rise to meet her two middle fingers.

***He***

Pulling away from the kiss, I grasp a ringed earlobe between my teeth

and bite gently, eliciting a lustful gasp!

Slender, sharp-nailed fingers slide through my hair, sending chills

down my spine! They grasp a double-handful of my hair pull my head

away!

Warm lips and sharp teeth leave a trail of fire along the inner curve

of my chest muscle as those nails dig into my scalp!

My erection is trapped painfully in the leg of my slacks, and I pull

back to give it room to rise.

***She***

We pull away and gaze into each other’s eyes, passion smoldering just

beneath the surface as we both realize we’re in the wrong venue for

the next round.

Without a word, we head for the door. In the dark of the small parking

lot, we each press the keyless entry buttons for our cars.

Damn! His Ferrari trumps my Porsche, and I push the other button on my

key tab, re-locking the Porsche.

With aplomb, he offers a hand to help me into the passenger seat. I

have no choice but to accept.

Nothing is said as the powerful engine of the red, low-slung car

sweeps us toward his home-court and away from mine.

***He***

I can’t help feeling a little smug as I offer my hand to help her out

of the car.

In the elevator, I use the back of my middle finger to caress her

slender neck down to the point of a white shoulder bared by the

slippage of her top, leaving her looking somehow vulnerable.

She shivers and turns to me, slipping a small hand inside the open top

of my shirt. Her eyes burn into mine as those fragile fingers caress

my pects and push the shirt off my shoulder.

An electric current shoots down my spine as her teeth close on the

bared nipple and instantly release, followed closely by a quick, wet

tongue.

***She***

The kiss to my neck has almost undone me! He is not playing by the

rules!

Very well, then, no holds barred!

I stand. I will walk away without looking back.

I turn away, but he’s standing in front of me, and now my face is

nearly pressed into the vee of his unbuttoned shirt. The valley

between his pects is as deep as that between my breasts. That SMELL

almost overwhelms me and I can’t help but look upward.

The challenge is clear in his eyes, and it steels my resolve. I look

him up and down and toss my head in disdain, then try to push past

him.

His crooked finger under my chin stops me…

***He***

This is getting interesting!

I stare into her eyes, putting passion into mine as I let the finger

under her chin slip down to trace the curve of her neck and the soft

valley of her meager cleavage.

She doesn’t turn away as I bend to kiss her. Her lips melt for a

moment, then press tightly together.  As I start to pull back, she

follows, softening again, and accepting my tongue.

Lips or no, she can kiss!

I feel my cock stirring in the leg of my trousers!

***She***

Well, now! No wonder he’s confident! My pussy starts to weep from the

passion in his kiss! At first, I want to escape, but realize it’s

futile. I must play this out, so I go on the offensive, and kiss him

back!

My tongue explores playfully inside his mouth, refusing to duel with

his, but not avoiding it either.

His hand just above my buttocks covers most of my back with heat, and

my nipples harden as I feel a large bulge start to grow where his

trousers press into my belly!

***She***

I’ve got the itch tonight, but it seems a slow night.  There’s only

one unattached guy at the bar, and he’s not my type.

I’ve seen his kind before. He’s my male counterpart - handsome, almost

pretty, experienced at seducing women, but slightly jaded by the sheer

numbers of his conquests.

No, I like them a bit more naive. More… Tender.

Still, a little practice never hurts…

***He***

Nothing’s happening here tonight. Once I finish this drink, I’ll move

on and see if the action’s better somewhere else.

The only unfettered female in the place is not my kind of girl - not

enough tit, too thin lips.  She looks like she’s trolling too.

Definitely not the innocent, adventurous sort I prefer.

Standing up from the barstool, I glance over at her table, for no

particular reason.

My gaze sweeps past her without really looking as I head for the door.

Then something niggles at my mind and I turn back… There! She’s got

this LOOK on her face - Catherine Zeta Jones eyes. Smoldering,

inviting, laughing and daring.

I always was a sucker for a challenge…

***She***

The LOOK got him. He’s coming over.

The trick now is to brush him off, preferably with a hard-on.

I look elsewhere as he approaches. He doesn’t speak, but stands so

close that if I turn, I’ll be staring at his zipper. I can smell him.

Just a hint of cologne, or possibly soap, underlaid with a feral

masculine scent. This is… unexpected.

I feel my silky brown hair guided away from my face with a single

finger. The game is well afoot now. He has picked up the gauntlet.

***He***

She pretends to ignore me. I know a challenge when I see one, though,

and decide to change the rules of the game.

Standing at her shoulder, I say nothing. Her nostrils flare as she

picks up my scent. I pull back her hair and bend, kissing softly at

the nape of her neck.

I feel a shiver in response…

  Vincent lowered his head to hers and breathed in.  He

caught a strange fragrance caught in her hair, which puzzled him.

Then he knew - she had been baking.  He was in the ‘twilight

zone’ for sure.  Then her hands were on his face, drawing him

down, bringing his mouth to hers, her tongue darting out to

taste his lips before they joined with hers.

     Then they were together, exploring each other with

fierce abandon, before breaking apart breathlessly, to rid

themselves of their remaining clothes.

     Vincent looked down at Janet’s naked body and shook his

head in wonderment.  “You are truly beautiful,” he told her,

knowing that she had to hear this, hear the words, though

his expression surely conveyed that to her.

     She was beautiful and she was ready.  His fingers

discovered this as they sought out her moist center.  Those

long, slim fingers found his hardness and traced his outline

before grasping him, pulling him to her, drawing him between

her legs . . .

     She hesitated and his eyes sought hers.  The eyes mirrored

the action.  Something was wrong.  Then the hesitation was

replaced with resigned determination and Vincent laughed out

loud.  He knew.

     “I’ll be right back,” he told her.  The relief and gratitude

in her eyes as he returned, unrolling the condom over his

hardness, told him he had been right.  He also carried with

him his silk robe.  He didn’t want her - or him - to get carpet

burn.

     Now the hesitation vanished.  She pulled him forward

and positioned him at her entrance.  Her heels at his buttocks

urged him onwards and he obeyed.  Together they gasped out their

pleasure.

     His excitement burned like a hot coal through his mind

as he slicked in and out of her, breathing tender endearments

into her ear as he did so.  Then he could no longer concentrate

and his body went rigid as he drove into her hard, once, twice,

again, and again.

     His senses returned and he took his weight off of her

and carefully pulled out, ensuring that the condom came with

him.  Then he began kissing her breasts and touching her sex,

stroking and caressing, playing her body like a musical

instrument, bringing to her the pleasure which she had brought

to him, glorying in his ability to please her.

     Janet’s breath came in gasps, then she, too, went rigid,

raising her hips from the floor before relaxing with a long

sigh.  Vincent continued to caress her as she slowly came down.

Her eyes opened and she smiled up at him.

     Her smile faded.  She looked about wildly, grabbed his

watch from the floor and gasped.  “Is that the time?  I have to

go.”

     With a bemused look on his face, Vincent watched Janet

dress and replace her barrette.  He found it hard to believe that

just moments ago she had been moaning, rocking her hips and

urging him on to greater and greater speed as he made love

to her.  Now she was all business again - in that strange way

of hers.

     His bemused look turned to one of consternation as Janet

walked over to the table, removed the dish-towel and picked

up his gun.  She pointed it in his general direction, though

not directly at him.

     “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked him.

     “Yes, very much” he answered cautiously, wondering what

would come next.

     Janet studied the revolver for a moment, then fumbled it

open.  She ejected the single bullet and returned the gun to

the table.  Vincent let out a small sigh of relief.

     “Yet you are willing to forego the possibilities, willing

to use this,” she held up the bullet, “because of this?”  She

picked up the envelope, then dropped it on the floor, a look of

disdain on her face.  “It doesn’t make sense to me.” 

     Vincent stared at her in shocked disbelief.  How could

she know?

     “Well, I guess it’s your choice.”  She tossed the bullet

to him and he caught it by reflex, his eyes never leaving hers.

His face was stone.  She looked at him, her confidence fading,

a fear coming to her eyes.

     “Do me a favour?” she asked.  He said nothing and her

hands began to shake.  “If you see me - you don’t know me.”

He sat, silent.  “Please?”  He didn’t move.  Then she was

gone, fairly flying out of his apartment.

     Curious, he moved to his window, putting on his robe

as he went.  Sure enough, Janet exited the building and

crossed to the apartment block opposite his.  He nodded.  It

was the only thing that made sense. 

     He saw her breath, condensed in the cold air, as she turned

and glanced back once, and then she was gone.  He looked to

the sky.  It had clouded over and it the darkness loomed.  He

moved back from the window and waited.  Sure enough, a light

came on in the apartment directly across from his.  He sat in

his chair and watched, not moving.

     She appeared and, suddenly, two children, still clothed

for the out-of-doors, came running to her.  She picked one up

and spun him around, giving him a hug and a kiss.  The second

child got the same treatment.

     Vincent waited, still, quiet and unmoving.  After a

long time passed, a man appeared, crossed over to where

she worked in her kitchen and gave her a perfunctory kiss.

     Vincent shook his head.  The man didn’t know what he had.

He lowered his gaze to the table, to the bullet, ugly and

stark against the wood.  How could he ever have thought it

beautiful?  It was hard and cold.  He remembered her breasts,

soft and warm.  It was they which were beautiful.  His nose

wrinkled in disgust at the cold metallic smell of the gun oil.

He remembered the smell of the baking in her hair, the smell

of her excitement, and sighed.  He pictured, in his mind, her

face, animated, filled with joy.  He remembered beauty.

     Eyes are the windows to the soul, it is said, and her

eyes were wary, frightened.  She walked, with her husband,

towards their apartment and he walked away from it.  He envied

the man, seeing how she almost melted into him, her arm around

his waist.  They would pass within centimeters of each other.

Would he stop, would he talk to her, would he *tell*?  Vincent

read all that in her eyes in the fraction of a second they met

before his gaze continued on past, to the sign on the corner. 

He didn’t know her, wouldn’t recognize her.  His face betrayed

nothing.

     It was the neighbourly thing to do, the least he could do.

  “He doesn’t say it much anymore, and I’m often tired

by the time we have time to ourselves.  Oh, I can look in the

mirror, but I don’t think I’m the woman I see there.  All I

see now are the labels.”  Janet fell silent once again.

     Labels he could understand and his expression softened.

He was ‘the manager’, ‘the boss’, ‘the husband’, yet somehow

‘Vincent’ had disappeared in the eyes of the others.  He

wondered how that had happened.  He suspected that the same

had happened to her.  This didn’t explain her presence, of

course, but it seemed to explain something.

     Vincent wondered who the ‘he’ was.  Boyfriend?  Husband?

The plain gold ring on her finger gave him his answer.  Had

he, too, been like that?  No.  He had been devoted to Leslie,

and because of that the acrimony and venom in her letter hurt

so badly.  He didn’t understand how she could see him thus.

     It didn’t matter.  The pain and the anguish would soon

be gone.  Nothing would matter.

     Vincent became aware that Janet was watching him, reading

his expression.  She sighed at something only she knew.  Again

she looked tentative, then once again composed as she made

whatever decision she needed to make.  An interesting woman.

     Vincent blinked.  She began undoing the buttons on the

flannel shirt.  He swallowed convulsively, unable to take his

eyes from her fingers as they deftly undid each button in

turn.

     “Sometimes I wonder,” she began again and he raised his

eyes to hers.  “Sometimes I wonder if they are too small, if

they are not beautiful.”  She looked down at her breasts as

her hands, with their long, slender, fingers opened the shirt

and bared them to her eyes and his.  “I see how men look at

women with larger breasts, how their eyes trace the curves,

then I think of my own and sometimes I wonder.”  The

wistfulness, bordering on pain, in her voice caused Vincent

to react.

     Why not do a final kindness?  It would soon make no

difference to him, yet it might make a difference to her.

     “They are beautiful,” he affirmed, his voice husky,

“and they are not too small.”  He was relieved as his

voice regained its normal timber after the first few

words.

     Janet looked up at him and smiled and he felt a sudden

lurch in his stomach.  Something different showed through her

smile, something he couldn’t place.

     “And the nipples?” she asked, delicately stroking them

until they stood proud.  Her head was bowed and she looked

coyly up at him from under her eyebrows. 

     Vincent had to smile.  “Your nipples are beautiful, too.”

And they were.  She had lovely breasts, and lovely nipples,

and the sight of them, of her stroking them, excited him.

     “And the skin?  It isn’t too rough?  I know I don’t have

the complexion which once I did.” 

     There was no way he could answer that without touching

her and he knew it, and she knew that he knew it.  An

invitation.  Would he accept it, he wondered.  Distress appeared

on her face and he knew he would.  She had risked too much for

him to be able to deny her without hurting her, and hurting as

he did, he found it unbearable to think of hurting another.

     Vincent moved forward and gently stroked her skin, lightly

caressed the undersides of her breasts, circled the nipples

stroked them as well.  She was breathing through her mouth,

now, he noted, and her respirations became fast and shallow.

He reached around her head and began to unclasp her barrette.

As he did so, he could feel her fingers unbuttoning his shirt.

     The barrette fell to the floor and his hands moved

through the silky hair, enjoying the feel of it as it slipped

through his fingers, while her fingers lightly stroked his

chest and tweaked his nipples.  His breath came breathing faster,

now, too, he noted.

 ”To come in,” she replied and pushed her way past Vincent,

catching him off guard and too surprised to stop her.  He

followed behind her as she walked past the kitchen and

into the living room of his small apartment.

     “Ah, a minimalist,” she commented, looking around at the

bare walls and lack of furnishings.  Only the table and one chair

remained in the room.  “Very Spartan.  I like that.”  She

looked up at him.  “Shows a strength of character.”  She nodded

as if confirming something to herself.  “Mind if I sit down?”

     “Yes.”  Too late.  She lowered herself to the floor even

as he spoke and came to a rest in a cross-legged position. 

     “You’re not being much of a host,” she complained.  Vincent

gaped at her.  “You haven’t offered me anything.  I’d like a

glass of water, please.”

     Stunned, Vincent turned and made his way into the kitchen

through the fog of the situation.  He needed time to think.  He’d

never dealt with such a situation before.  He gathered his

thoughts while allowing the water to run, testing its temperature

with his finger.

     This Janet was a reasonably good looking woman, mid-thirties

he guessed, no longer slim, but with a nice enough figure.  She had

her longish brown hair pulled back and clipped with a barrette at

the back of her head, exposing her face.  A good face, he thought

as he allowed the glass to fill with cold water, nothing

extra-ordinary about it, but a good face with a nice smile.

     Vincent walked back to the living room and handed her the

glass.  She hadn’t moved.  He glanced to the table, to

the envelope and the dish-towel, and grimaced.  What was he

doing?  He’d have to get her out of here.

     He looked back at her, but Janet sipped at the water,

making no attempt to make known her purpose in appearing at his

door.  He’d have to prompt her, he decided.

    “So, you live here and just decided to go visiting?” he

asked, forcing a smile to his face.

    “No, I don’t live here,” she replied.

    That surprised Vincent.  It was cold outside.  He took another

look at her.  She wore a flannel shirt, jeans and runners.

That was it.  Not even socks.  How could he have ever thought her

a JW?  What *was* she doing here?

     “You said you wanted to talk to me.  Talk, then.”

     “Please sit down.  I’m getting a sore neck looking up at

you.” 

     She smiled at him again and he cursed her under his

breath.  Nevertheless, he sat, uncomfortably, on the floor.

She was much more limber than he.  He’d have to exercise more,

he thought, then almost laughed out loud at the incongruity

of that last thought.

     “Okay.  I’m sitting.  Talk.”

     Janet nodded, yet made no attempt to begin.  Vincent

waited, knowing, somehow, that she was gathering her thoughts,

putting them in order.  Finally she looked up at him.  He waited,

expectant.

     “Sometimes I wonder.”  He heard a hint of desolation in her

voice.

     Vincent waited, but nothing more came.  The the unreality of

the situation struck him and shook his head.  He returned his gaze

to Janet and noticed that her eyes had that far away look in them.

     “Sometimes I wonder if I am still pretty.”

     Vincent made no attempt to respond.  She wasn’t really

talking to him at all.  He somehow doubted that she was even

aware that he was in the room.  He felt like a character in

“The Twilight Zone”.

 Eyes are the windows to the soul, it is said, and that one

eye, grey, with the large black pupil, held his attention as no

other could.  In the eye he glimpsed eternity.  He lowered his

gaze.

     Only two things sat on the table in front of him:

a dish-towel and the envelope.  The envelope had only one word

on it:  Vincent.  She had scrawled it in her inimitable style.  A

shudder went through him and his gaze rose again, to contemplate

the grey eye with its large black pupil.

     It wouldn’t be so hard, Vincent thought, it wouldn’t be

difficult at all.  This vaguely surprised him.  He had thought

it would be otherwise.  Vincent grinned ironically, what would

life be, if not for its surprises?

     His arm grew tired, for the gun was heavy.  Reluctantly,

he turned the barrel away, causing the grey eye to disappear,

and lowered the gun to the table, to rest on the dish-towel.

     As he shook out his tired arm, Vincent looked around the

room, then out, through the window, to the apartment building

opposite.  Empty, all empty.  Faceless people, big city, all

empty and devoid of all that mattered.  It would be a relief,

he decided.

     His hand didn’t tremble at all as he reached into his

shirt pocket and pulled out his bullet.  Not any bullet, but

‘his’ bullet.  It gleamed in the afternoon light which streamed

through the now uncurtained window.  So beautiful.  Such utility.

He marveled at the simplicity, the stark majesty of it.

     The revolver, with that heady aroma of gun oil, was in his

hand.  Practiced fingers unlatched the cylinder and swung it

open.  Practiced fingers picked up the bullet and slid it into

the chamber.  Practiced fingers spun the cylinder, until the

loaded chamber was in the proper position, then swung it closed.

The sharp click sounded very loud in the quiet room.

     A last look around?  Why?  There was nothing to see anyway.

All that he needed to see he could see in his mind’s eye.  The

cold grey eye as it rose and . . .

     The knock on the door startled him.  What to do?  His mind

blanked.  The knock repeated, a little louder, a little faster.

     “Damn.”  Why couldn’t he think, make a decision?  Shoot or

answer the door.  The knock came again, insistent.

     “Damn.”  Vincent lowered the gun to the table and carefully

covered it with the dish-towel.  He stood as once again the

visitor rapped upon the door.

     “Coming,” he called, irritated by the insistence of the

rapping, by the delay this person was causing.  He swung the

door open quickly, catching the woman by surprise, her fist

poised to knock yet again.

     He had startled the woman with his sudden opening of the door

and the way he thrust his face forward.  He could see it in her

eyes.  Her expression, at first determined, seemed tentative now.

Her whole posture spoke of indecision.

     “Yes?” he asked, his voice harsh.  Best to send her on her way

at once, to get back to what was important.

     Her face composed itself before his eyes.  She straightened

perceptibly.  A bright smile appeared, as if by magic and he

had a sinking feeling.

     “I’ve come to talk with you about . . .”

     “You’re a JW, right?”  Vincent interrupted her.

     The woman’s smile dimmed then brightened again, her eyes

laughing.  “I guess you could say that.  My name is Janet and

my last name . . .”

     “Starts with a W,” he finished with her.  “Well, Janet W.

what do you want?”  He wasn’t about to let her get started

with anything.

In these hazy postclimactic moments, Alexis enjoyed just laying

alongside another, resting his tired head on her breast, like

an unholy satire of the virgin Mary.  What was any less blissful

about her experiences?  To acknowledge and act upon her inner

feelings for another was to recognize the truth, and she always

frowned upon the repression of the classic religions.  Alexis

certainly lived an alternative lifestyle, however, it was one

where the emotional truth was not denied, warped, repressed,

or shunned into a little black box of sin in the center of one’s

resentfully chaste heart.  They both knew what they were

doing, they both harmed no one, and at this phase in both of

their lives, they sought out what they truly wanted or needed -

a companion of the moment, gasoline poured on the urges

of unabashed carnality.

Some time later, she got up, gathered her clothes, and quietly

slipped them back on.  The dull yellow glow of the light

illuminated her body gracefully as she put her sweater over

her arms, and pulled it down over her perky breasts.  She sat

on the bed and laced up her Docs, then found her leather

jacket and put it on.  At the sound of her doing up the zipper,

he awoke.  “Leaving so soon?…” he murmured, half awake.

“Yup, I have school tomorrow.” she laughed,  and he buried

his face in the pillow, grinning.  After a pause, she walked

over to him.  Poised there, she held out her hand and touched

his cheek. “I had a wonderful time.  Thank you.”  He took

her hand and held it for a long moment, their warmth

mingling. “No, thank you.  It’s so refreshing to find someone

like you Alexis. I won’t soon forget it.” he murmured, letting

his fingers roam up her thigh and under her skirt for a moment.

She smiled, turned off the light, and slipped out like a breeze

out the door, which clicked closed behind her.

A soft nighttime rain was falling, and there was a misty

ring around the moon.  She walked alone down the

dark, reflective streets, looking somber and downcast.

She hated feeling like a wet dog in the rain, as the

soft water dripped warmly down her hair and off the

tip of her nose.  Something else dripped down the

inside of her leg, warm like the rain, but it soon

disappeared into the rivulets of water on her ivory legs.

Not a single car passed her as she purposefully made

her way across the sleeping town, and climbed back

into the window from whence she had arisen.  Her

bed greeted her like a rewarding embrace as she fell

into it half-dressed.

The morning came too early, the sun was a curse that

peeked annoyingly through the basement window.

She didn’t get up until she heard her father’s voice

calling down to her from the kitchen.  She sat up like a

bolt, and changed into something fresh.  She looked at her

leather jacket, which still had a few beads of rain in the

crevices.  Alexis smiled coquettishly to herself.

Upstairs as she made breakfast, her mind slowly began to

clear and she pushed aways thoughts of last night and tried

to concentrate on the upcoming mundane inanity of the

school day.

“Boy, you’ve got one bad case of bedhead today, Alex!”

her dad laughed from behind his paper.  She wondered

how many people he had fucked in his life, how, when,

where….

“Yes. I had a rough night, kinda restless.” she turned away

from him and put the milk back in the fridge, smiling

at something only she knew about, in her little world.

“I love mirrors.” she whispered breathily into his ear as their

bodies rocked together.   He stopped for a moment and told her

to close her eyes.  She did so, and he leaned as far back as he

could and turned on the bedside lamp.  She heard a click, and

the blackness of her vision became a dark grey beneath her

eyelids.  With a bit of awkward twisting, they managed to stay

coupled together as they reversed positions on the bed.  She

figured she would be facing the dresser (and perhaps a mirror

over it, opposite the bed?).  He pulled her onto him as deeply as

she could go, so deep that she could have sworn his glans

rubbed against her sensitive cervix.  She took a ragged breath in

his ear, an erotic hiss escaping her dark lips.

“You can open your eyes now,” he whispered lowly.  They were

coupled together upright on the bed, him facing the headboard,

her facing the mirror atop the dresser on the wall.  After such a

long period of visual impairment, the scene she saw was

shocking in its sudden detail and brightness.  Dark bedsheets,

and the pink glowing expanse of his back and the dark hair atop

his head.  her hands were two pale spiders clutching his back,

tipped in their shiny black nail polish.  Beneath the ruffled tresses

of her long, auburn hair, her shadowed eyes looked back at her

dispassionately, erotically, from over his shoulder.  There was a

smug smile across her lips, resting on his shoulder.  She still

could not tell how old he was, but by the smoothness of his back,

she figured he could not be over 30.  She stared transfixed at her

reflection as they began to move together again, gentle thrusting,

getting harder and more urgent.  Alexis barely blinked as she

watched his body moving in the reflection, a faceless creature

driving nails of pleasure up the length of her body.  She wanted to

reach out and caress the perfect surface of the reflection, almost

desiring it to come over and join her.  She whispered in his ear,

between gasps, how much watching the reflection turned her on. 

He responded by pounding even harder, clutching her like a

clamp, fucking her like an animal in heat.

She forced him down on his back, yet still did not see his face

clearly, for her hair hung everywhere like a wild amazon woman’s. 

He was getting very close, she could tell. There was a nice little

sheen of sweat lubricating their moving bodies, and he felt even

bigger inside her.  Sometimes when he thrust particularly deeply,

she would feel a little shudder of pleasure ricochet through her

body, right down to her toes.  She couldn’t take much more of

this!  With a quick hooking drag, she raked her sharp nails down

his back and he cried out.  she watched the red welts seem to

appear instantaneously all down his back.  He was into playing

rough as well.  With the peaked excitement caused by her

scratching, he grabbed her ass and slid his still-juicy finger into

her anus at the same time as he grabbed her lower jaw with his

other hand and penetrated her there with his gagging cluster of

fingers.  Somehow she became intensely excited by his

dominance, and as every orifice of her body held a part of him,

she writhed like a mad woman atop his spike, driving her nails in

hard, and within an incredible few frenetic seconds, they both

cried out almost in unison as they felt their respective shuddering

implosions of orgasm.  For several long seconds they were

shuddering in each other’s arms, Alexis letting out a tight-throated

moan past his fist, and she felt the deep pumping and flexing of

his ejaculating penis deep within her.  Her eyes rolled back under

her eyelids, her pounding arteries felt like they would explode,

and finally she stared at the scene in the mirror; the shaking

mass of limbs at odd angles on the bed, jerking slower and

slower, until all was calm, and the breaths subdued.  They held

each other as if holding onto life itself.

She closed her eyes, halfheartedly kissing the side of his neck,

as she slid off his bending rod.  She felt full inside, and satisfied. 

He placed his hand on the curve of her waist, and they recovered

in the afterglow of their tremendous union - physically exhausted,

mentally mellow, and completely satisfied.

He lay on his side for a very long time, barely moving, looking

totally relaxed, like a dog lying in the sun.  Like most females,

Alexis looked at him in narrow eyed amusement, for she had

the ability to go over and over again.  But, tonight had been

an excellent and rewarding singular experience.  She felt no

need to try and raise the dead with her sensual witchcraft.

His hands gently yet firmly clasped her head, and directed her

forward.  She willingly obliged and licked her lips until they were

nice and wet, closing her eyes, getting ready to take it all in.  And

that she did - in one long sliding motion, she took his entire rod

deep into her throat, and his body stiffened in reaction to the

sudden, intense feelings it generated.  Interestingly enough, it

made her squirm slightly, for she was imagining it entering

someplace else as well.  She dug her fingers in to his hips, as if

steadying herself.

Alexis continued for a while, varying the pace of her rhythm,

tickling all around the ridge with the tip of her tongue, tickling his

frenulum with her spherical tongue piercing.  Nothing equaled the

cool yet sharp sensations created by rubbing her stainless steel

piercing all over his penis.  She had yet to find any guy who did

not adore her adornment.  One of her hands traveled down and

began to lightly pinch the wrinkly denseness of his scrotum, in

rhythm with her sucking.  After a while he began to get even

harder and longer, and she knew that it would not be long before

the shuddering blossoms of ecstasy would take flight within his

loins.  With a wet slurp, she let his penis slip out of her mouth,

and she slid her hot body all the way up until her lips were level

with his, and his rod left a kiss of wetness in a line down the

middle of her body.  “Alexis, you’re amazing…” he murmured, as

he leaned into her face and they briefly kissed.  He was certainly

a good kisser, and she ground her hips  into him as they did that.

The cool sphere of her tongue piercing danced inside his mouth,

tickling his gums,  hiding like a mercury pearl between their

two tongues.

He responded by sliding his fingers slowly down the mound of her

crotch, until they waded in the wet entrance.  She held him tightly

as he slowly eased two of his fingers into her hot folds, as deep

as they could go.  The slow penetration made her take a quick

breath, and she felt as though someone had poured gasoline all

over her labia and then set it all afire.  She tightened, but could

not resist his probing fingers of delight.  She loved it, perhaps due

in part to the fact that she was so used to this feeling, alone, yet

now being generated by the nubile fingers of another.

Alexis imagined what they must look like in this room, two bodies

enmeshed in a tangle of round, fluid lines, and streaks of

wetness.  Moving slowly, in and out, in circles, as if trying to

mesh into one being, in slow motion.  It was a wonderfully erotic

thought, and she smiled to herself as she climbed up higher on

him, pushing him back on the bed until she straddled his hips, his

penis jutting out directly against her clit.

She would wait no longer!  Leaning forward until her firm little

breasts brushed his lips, she kissed him on the forehead, and

lowered her wet, waiting vagina onto his lusting penis.  He raised

his hands to her smooth round rear, and lifted his hips to meet

her halfway as he slid into her tight, exceedingly hot passage.

It was a sensation that sent jolts of pleasure through them both,

even getting a gritting moan out of Alexis.  For her, one of her

great turn-ons was the spreading feeling and subsequent

pressure of penetration.  They grasped each other tightly as they

developed a nice rhythm of penetrations.  The blackness of the

room was pierced with fast, heavy breathing from the both of

them, and some wonderfully wet grinding sounds.  She leaned

over him, ravaging his lips with hers, as her disheveled hair fell

into a wispy tent around his face.  He ground into her quickly and

forcefully, and they both fucked with all the enthusiasm their

bodies could handle.  The seduction was over - they were both

animals now.

When his hand finally made it under her shirt to the bottom of her

soft, curved breasts, she turned and leaned until her soft lips

lightly contacted the side of his neck.  He was stiff for a moment,

and then completely relaxed and inviting.  While he continued to

feel and experience the shapes of her body, she slid off the bed

to a stooping position, now facing him in the black room.  For a

minute there was nothing but the sounds of her removing her

clothes, and the soft plunk as they formed a pile on the carpet.

She wondered if he was imagining the vision of her body, slowly

revealing itself in front of his face, yet completely invisible at the

moment.  Turning to him again, she placed her hands on his hips

and traced her firm, wet tongue all the way down the front of his

chest, across his now-hard nipples, tweaking them, feeling the

nuances in the body temperature as she traveled down, lower

and lower.  It was not the goal she sought, but rather the infinitely

glorious process.

She knelt in front of him and her long hair flowed across her

shoulders.  He stroked it, and stroked her neck, moving up to her

face to memorize every shape of her fine features with his

fingertips alone.  The feelings that ran through her body were

dazzling spears of sensual enjoyment, and she smiled as he

traced the heart-like curves of her plump lips.  As he did that, she

suddenly opened her mouth and grasped his finger between her

teeth - firmly yet sensuously.  Still firmly clasping her hands on

his bare hips, she rocked her head back and forth and took her

fingers in and out of her wet, pursed mouth in the perfect

imitation of something they both were fantasizing about.  She

perked up as she heard him mutter some sound of enjoyment

from deep beneath his breath.  Nothing impacted her more

greatly than hearing and experiencing the effects she was having

on her lover.  Nothing turned her on more in every way than

knowing how much pleasure she alone would be creating in

another person.  To her, it was amazing, and to her body, it was

electric.

As she distracted him with her oral teasing, her right hand was

slowly making its way diagonally down his groin, reaching the

shocking fuzz of his pubic hair, slithering her nails through the

bristly little bush which hid her goal at its center.  In one quick

move, she grasped his rod firmly (it was naturally erect and had

been for some time), and he gasped, as she sucked hard on his

fingers at the same time.  Her little diversion had worked, and he

let out a low complimentary groan of satisfaction.

Her hand explored up and down its soft-skinned length.

His penis was hard and long, its three longitudinal cylinders

completely engorged with blood, every nerve ready to explode

with her touch.  Alexis loved to gently caress and stroke, feeling

how the textures changed from wiry pubic hair at the bottom, to

the soft cylinder of the main body of his penis, to the sudden

ridge of the nipple-like-skin of his sensitive, warm head.  She

gently squeezed it, and squeezed her own legs together, for she

suddenly realized she was becoming very wet.  She held his

organ firmly, rubbed her thumb over the opening of his penis, and

felt a slight slick wetness, and she smiled to herself.  She lightly

bit her lip, finding it hard to hold back and take her time at this

point.  Alexis knew she was in for one wild night.  Her many

lovers had never disappointed her, each had been so unique, and

she certainly tried to achieve the same reputation in the art of

sexual indulgence.