© Copyright 2004 - Shakes Peer2B
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If you're not both of those, don't read it. Characters in a FANTASY don't get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't live in a FANTASY so be safe. The fictional characters in my stories are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what they do - someone could get hurt.
If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.
This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.
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...
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...
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.
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...
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...
This is getting interesting!
I stare into her eyes, projecting passion from 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 a stirring in the leg of my trousers!
Well, now! No wonder he's confident! My core starts to melt 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!
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 lust has grown too painfully large for its confinement, and I pull back to give it room to rise.
We pull away and gaze into each other's eyes, passion smoldering just beneath the surface as we 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.
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 delicate, 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 small white teeth close on the bared nipple and instantly release, followed closely by a quick, wet tongue.
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 restore my top as it 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.
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 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 soft mound, squeezing hard before taking the rigid little nipple between thumb and middle finger, pulling it far from her body. Her hips rise to meet two plunging middle fingers.
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.