Hot night. Loud music. Sea of movement. Perfect.

She is on the prowl! she in need, and the hunt has begun. Holding her drink, she let a current of bodies carry her slowly around the dance floor. The air is thick with energy and body heat. One can easily get lost in sensory overload: bass drumming deep in the stomach, a kaleidoscope of lights almost palpable on the exposed skin. Momentarily lightning-like flashes replaced by minute darkness …

~ where do all these hands go at those times? ~

Couples moving in unison, making dance look like love, girls huddled in little giggling groups, women focusing on someone, men looking …

When you hunt you observe, find the pray, single it out, mark it and then move in.

Many targets. Short white blond hair, tall, leaning against the bar, looking at her. Our eyes meet. He smiles. she appraises.

~ Next! ~

Moving on the dance floor, slower than the beat dictates yet pleasant, not in disharmony, just … on his own terms. Light sheen of sweat covering a tanned chest. Nice. she smiles at him appreciating the display. ~ Good boys keep it up! Next! ~

She moved too close to the dance floor and an attractive male couple moves towards her, inviting her to join them. They move with the practiced ease of lovers, two halves, brothers in arms … tempting offer. she smiles and let them pull her between them, allowing the music to move her body, reflecting theirs, an occasional touch, a brush against hot skin. They encircle her raising invisible barriers around us, creating our own space on the crowded podium. Tempting, but, too easy … time to move on. she pecks each on the cheek with a warm thank you, and extract her from their embrace, leaving them calling after her, smiling. ~ Next! ~

Floating with the crowd, she works her way towards a darker corner, a good, quiet place. Taking in the whole club, the MTV generation, the assault on all the senses seems more obvious from here. It is almost surreal, like watching a movie, a video, not being part of it.

Her eyes are drawn to a spot. Darkness moving in the dark. What am she looking at? Flash of the white light followed by thunder. Total blackout. Dizzying pulsing white light makes everything look like a broken movie replay. Usually, she waits this part out, with her eyes shut, but this time is different. This time she needs to see! A flash of obsidian skin tautly stretched over a wide chest. A glimpse of toned stomach. Hips encased in black leather. Black eyes focused on her.

Blackout. she has been holding her breath all this time she realizes, feeling light-headed … ~ must be from all that pulsing light ~. The music returns carrying the softer lights with it. Her eyes did not move from the spot, and he is still there. Leaning against the ledge of the wall, his arms spread out on his sides, a black short sleeved shirt doing nothing to conceal, but framing his smooth body. He is not moving. He is on display, allowing her to appraise him. Our eyes meet again, and she know he knows she like what she sees. she knows he can sense her pulse quickening. Her mouth is dry, and her legs are rubbery. And she knows he knows.

We are not smiling. We are not moving. He is willing her to come to him. she is waiting for him to come to her. Two hunters caught in no-man’s land. The song changes and she start swaying with the rhythm, bringing her drink to her desert dry lips. The ice rushes into her mouth and she play with it on her tongue. The crowd melts into background and there seems to be no one between us. His stomach moving slowly with his breath, his dark eyes still fixed on her.

she wants him! she can go to him, but that is just not her! she can walk out and … miss on this opportunity. But… that is not her either! Will he meet her halfway? she breaks the eye contact and lower her head allowing her hair to fall and form a curtain in front of her face. she turns slowly and leave her empty glass on the table behind her. Moving with the music, her eyes half closed she make her way towards the dance floor. Music speeds up with primal drums shaking her insides. It feels good to move. she concentrates on the drum beat and tune everything else out. People are cutting into her space. The movement of her hand, the dismissive gesture, a mental push – that is all it takes to be left alone.

Where is he? Sliding hands over her silk clad body, she wiggles like a snake shedding skin. The urge and heat are rising … where is he? she glances towards the empty spot, scanning around in panic! Where?! Frozen for a moment in mid movement, her hands entwined above her head, place closing in on her, focus lost …

she feel a rush of energy crawling on her back, thick darkness enters her field of vision, enclosing on her wrists, pulling them down and behind, pulling her backwards until her naked back meets hot silky skin. Every muscle in her body clenches and then relaxes, releasing, giving way, accepting guidance. she follows his movements, cradled in his arms, her eyes closed she am open to him, feeling, learning…

He moves us both, her ass in his lap, our hips gyrating, sliding against each other. Leaving her hands behind her back, wedged between us, he slides his right hand around her waist, while moving her hair out of his way with the other one. The tips of his fingers brush her cheek and she turn her face towards them, to find his eyes right next to her, his lips lingering above her shoulder. His gaze burns her lips, naked throat, bringing blush to her exposed cleavage. He closes his eyes and moves to her neck, inhaling her scent, brushing skin with his teeth, tasting her with the electrifying touch of his tongue. His big, wide shoulders wrap around her like Armor, melting her into his body, making her part of him. He withdraws like a shadow, spinning her around, catching her, making her straddle his knee, cold leather between her hot damp tights.

We are still dancing or is this foreplay? she cannot say. she is not the hunter, today she is the prey. Caught in his gaze like a rabbit caught in headlights, incapable of escape, unwilling to retrieve. As the music changes into something offensive, he peels her off his body and helps her stand on her own. He extends his hand and she take it knowing she am his now. We leave the dance floor and the crowd parts for him on our way out.

Salty sea air washes over us as the door closes muting the music we left behind. Not looking at her, he leads the way towards the beach. Her feet sink into the sand and she pause to take off her heels. He waits, intently watching her every move. she picks up her shoes and step closer to him, only to see him turn away and proceed towards the beach. Still holding his hand, she falls slightly behind watching him move like a big black cat. A warm night breeze pulls on his shirt making it balloon behind him, giving her glance of his tight ass.

We reach water line, sand feeling damp under her feet. The light of the moon is reflecting on mirror-like water and two dark pools on his face. He lets go of her hand and stands motionless in front of her, waiting.

Her turn … Good.

she drops her shoes, and they land with a soft thump in the sand. she look at him, his dark pupils swimming in the clear white of his eyes, his clean, sharp face lines, amazingly full dark lips, long hair spilling over his shoulders, muscles twitching as if pulled on by her gaze. His breathing is slow and relaxed. she looks in his eyes, expectant. she turns sideways to him and start walking around him, drinking in the sight. He is not moving. His back is perfect muscle disappearing in snug pants. she put her hand on his hip and drag it over his butt, feeling it clench under her touch.

She makes a full circle and stand in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes. Slowly she places both her hands on his chest and slide them over rock hard muscles, over his rippled shoulders pulling his shirt off, letting it slide to the ground. she leans into him and deeply inhale his masculine scent. Her lips connect with his silk-like skin and she lick him, cherishing that first taste. she let her hands roam over his shoulders, pulling him into a feverish embrace, running her nails gently down his back.

He reaches up and grabs a handful of her hair pulling her head back, while his other hand grabs her ass to prevent her from falling. He meets her lips slowly, tentatively, exploring, breathing her breath, smelling her, looking at her. He kisses her, possessively, taking rather than giving, grinding against her, almost bruising, taking her breath away, making her lose myself in his hot mouth, his strong embrace. He breaks the kiss, and his hands grab the dress and pull it over her head, leaving her shivering almost naked, gasping for air, her arousal obvious from rock hard nipples to soaking wet crotch.

He pulls her, once again, into the kiss, one hand in her hair, the other crushing her breast. Her knees give out and he eases her on her knees in front of him. As her eyes regain focus, she is holding onto his hips for balance and staring at a bulging hump stretching his pants, wanting to be released. His hand tightens in her hair and he forces her face against the lump, rubbing her gently alongside his painful erection. The pungent aroma fills her nose as she slides up and down, unquestioning, her tongue laps out and she lick the imprisoned hardness tasting the leather.

He yanks on her hair, forcing her to look up at his face.

His voice barely audible: “Take if off!” Clearly a command.

Without looking away, she moves her hands and undo his belt and fly, releasing his fully erect cock. It comes out with a pop, scarcely missing her face, standing in its full glory just inches to the right. she tugs on his pants lowering them to his ankles, and trace back with her hands sliding over muscular legs, up, all the way back to where she started, to his narrow hips.

He rubs himself over her cheek, heat radiating from the living stone. So smooth, so soft yet unyieldingly hard, crisscrossed with thick veins, pulsing with life. He brings it to her mouth and she open slowly, licking her lips, flickering over his twitching head, but he pushes hard, impatiently and she push back with her hands on his hips, stopping him. A tug on her hair pulls her head back, again, eliciting a surprised gasp from her.

“Who is in charge?” his voice hits her like a slap.

Hesitation. she swallows: “You.” Her response but a whisper.

“Who is in charge!” his hand crushes her hair, pulling on her scalp.

“You! You are in charge!” she pants.

“Sir.” he growls.

“You are in charge, Sir” she hears her saying.

Danger! Crawling on the edge here! Red light flashing in her head. Her cunt on fire. He is the one! He is the wild, dangerous animal she was hunting for, and now he has his claws on her, in her. And she is loving it!

His grip relaxes, a little, as he guides her into the position.

“Open.” His eyes cold, his lips, oh! So hot!

He enters her mouth and allows her to bathe him in her saliva. He smells clean and of leather. He tastes salty, like the sea. Her mouth’s full of him, so tasty, so smooth, so tender, so hard … He moves his hips like a lazy wave, flooding her mouth and withdrawing, working her spit all over him, farther and thicker on his shaft with every push.

Her hands, feather touch on his contracting muscles, sliding from hips to his tight, round ass with his every thrust. she is his tonight, for better or for worse and she beg those cruel charcoal eyes to do her right. He moves slower but deeper, and she tilt her head even further back, opening her throat for him. Every push makes her gag; every gag is battle of her will over her body. He enters slowly and she try to swallow, convulsing around him, tears in her eyes. Smile in his.

He holds her; her throat stretched to maximum, his hard cock deep in her, her stomach retching, choking, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes as she tenderly caresses his clutched buttocks. she need air, she needs to push him, she cannot push him, she must not withdraw. Her hands stop moving and her grasp on his hips increases as she is fighting the need to survive.

He waits, looking at her, enjoying her struggle. He pulls out, watching her convulse, fighting to breathe, fighting the urge to be sick. He gives her time to calm down, to be able to look back into his eyes, and then he enters her again, slowly, deeply, until her nose is grinding against his pelvis.

“Stick your tongue out and lick her balls.”

she cannot believe him. she cannot believe myself! With her throat convulsing around his thick shaft she sticks her tongue out and probe the silken skin of his sack. He slowly withdraws and she breathe, thick dribble coating her chin, sliding on her chest. she moves her hands to caress his taut stomach, and he moves, forcing her to swallow him yet again. she closed her eyes and welcome the painful thickness stretching her throat. she swallows and hear him draw in the air, music to her ears.

He withdraws leaving her throat raw. His cock glistens at the moonlight twitching in front of her face. He is looking at her with a smile.

“Well done.” Praise.

“Thank you, Sir” her voice hoarse, her breathing hard. she is kneeling at his feet, her legs spread obscenely wide, her cunt cold from the cooled down moisture soaked into her silk panties. Suddenly it hits her: what a sight we are! Ebony God and his ivory worshipper.

“Give her your panties.” He requests with his hand outstretched. Not daring to get up, awkwardly, she squirms out of her soaked underwear and hand it to him. He looks at it, feeling its dampness, brings it to his face and inhales deeply. Her heart skips a beat as he reaches towards her and wipes the drool off her face with the cloth saturated in her own scent.

“Lay down on your back and play with yourself for her!”

The heat rushes into her cheeks, she does not do that! That is so private to her, that is mine, she cannot do that in front of anyone. He is standing, in front of her, burning her with his stare, waiting. God! she moves slowly, unfolding her legs from underneath her, the sand cold on her skin, lowering myself to elbows, legs clenched together, her stomach in a knot.

she looks down, her heaving breasts topped with painfully hard nipples, softly moving with her breath, stomach seamlessly curbing into the denuded mound, hidden between tightly clenched thighs. Her legs stretch forever, and then abruptly the bluish milky white of her flesh meets obsidian black of carved stone. He forces his foot between her legs, and steps in, making her open for him. she clenches her teeth and close her eyes, relaxing her hips, her head touches the sand, red hair spilling around her like a bloody halo.

Reluctantly her hands reach to caress her breast, fine sand feeling rough on her skin. she tries not to think where she am. she can feel his legs between mine and she spread wider to avoid contact. He is quiet and still, as she slides her hands over her body, following familiar paths. Her hand descends between her legs, finding her slippery folds. The rings in her pussy lips chime while she plays with her clit. Her fingers soaked in her juices, slip and slide, coaxing the engorging nub out to the moonlight.

Her heart races, her breathing becoming sporadic, she holds her breath until it hurts, she is climbing the steep approach towards climax, so needed, so wanted…

“Look at her!” His voice brings her back from the verge; her eyes fly open, frustration making itself known in her hissing exhale.

“You are doing this for Me. So, look at her.” Yes! Looking at him, waves of hot and cold flushes dance over her skin. Black beast, the living statue cut out of stone, slowly moving, rocking hips, caressing himself with her silken underwear, black eyes burning with intensity, his breath coming in short saps. His breathing stops. He throws his head back and showers her with his milk. All over her, splatter hitting her tits, her stomach, her legs … He is breathing hard. His hand clutched on his still hard cock. He smiles.

“You are a bloody mess! Go wash yourself!”

she twitches, but move and start rising, attempting to maintain a semblance of grace when his voice cuts her: “Did she say you can stand? Crawl.”

she freezes, crouching. ~ why am she doing this? ~ she lowers her to hands and knees, moving slowly towards the sea. Her tits swaying underneath her, nipples dragging in the sand, her ass in the air, her wet slit adorned with gleaming rings, pouting at him. she reaches the water and stop to rinse the offending evidence of his release.

“Don’t stop, get in deeper. Keep going.” He is right behind her, and she continue to crawl, entering the warm water, her hands sinking in the sand, her breasts making splashing sounds…

He grabs her cunt rings, successfully stopping her, she gasps. Her head is just above the water, her pussy just out of it. He fingers her rings for a few moments, making funny noise, making her shiver. Then, he kneels behind her, forcing her legs apart, and enters her pussy in one smooth motion ~ He never went soft! ~ she cannot believe it, yet there he is, big and hard, filling her, stretching her, eliciting small grunts and squeaks from deep within her. With every push he hits her cervix, and she still do not feel the slap of his balls. she tries to move away from him, to slip slightly forward when he thrusts, but his hold on her hips is strong and he pulls her back, not allowing her to retreat.

she feels him bending forward, gathering her hair, wrapping his hand into it, right at the nape of her neck. He withdraws leaving her empty. she feels him push against her anus.

“No!” she gasps, not able to move, not able to look at him.

“Quiet!” he growls. “You are mine tonight, and you are going to please her! Quiet!”

He pushes and she try to escape, but his hold on her hair, water just under her chin, she cannot move. she feels him sliding in and the pain shoots from her bottom. she takes deep breath and start to scream when he pushes her head under the water. she holds her breath. Fear! she moves her hands up, to grab on his arm, but that causes her to lose balance and push myself harder on his shaft. Her hands find the sand and she try to push myself up, but she only succeeds in pushing herself fully on the intruder in her bowels. Our tights connect and he yanks her head out of water.

she exhales, coughing and gulping the air. He holds her still for a while, giving her time to recover, to take a deep breath. she starts to talk, and he pushes her under the water again. This time he starts pumping her ass, while she frantically struggles to get out. Panic!

Burning in her lungs, lack of air making her dizzy, a pull on her hair and she am out. Breathe! Air! He continues fucking her ass, effortlessly, as if she is a rag doll. Her lungs fill with air and she hold her breath. He pushes her down. she does not fight. He feels good in her ass. Rocking her, sliding in and out, stretching her, filling her up. Her pussy starts pulsing, clenching on empty …

He pulls her out. she breathes. she takes deep breath, hold. Under the water. No breathing. Concentrate on the sensation in her ass, in her crotch, in her clit! His hand on her clit. Gently, right at the root, just like she does it! He is fucking her ass; he is controlling her breathing and he is wanking her off! she climbs towards the climax fast. No breathing just feels between her legs! He pulls her out. Exhale. Inhale. He lowers her down. Water embraces her. Whooshing sound of our repeated encounter, thump of her heart. Building fire in her clit. ~ Push on it just a little harder! ~ There!

she impales her on him and freeze as the orgasm hits her. The current running through her body, firing every nerve. she is sitting in his lap, in his tender embrace. Safe. His breath on her ear, warm, comforting.

“Breathe! Easy … You OK?” he is concerned. she starts shaking violently and he hugs her closer, wrapping himself around her.

“she’s cold.” Her teeth chattering. ~This is funny! ~ she starts laughing.

“Hang in there. she’ll take care of you.” He whispers as he scoops her in his arms and carries her to his beach house. ~ we will get the clothes later…~ she wraps her hands around his neck and shiver. Feeling safe….


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